Jake and Mia had followed every lead, but Dirty Joy always seemed to be one step ahead. Then, a tip came in.... someone matching his description had been seen heading toward a remote canyon, miles from the nearest town. The canyon was known locally as a place where people went to disappear: a lawless patch of forgotten land, home to a dwindling coal mine and a handful of desperate souls.
The road to the canyon was rough, little more than a dirt track that wound its way through rocky outcroppings and patches of stubborn sagebrush. Their patrol car was ill-suited for the journey, so Jake and Mia commandeered a sturdy old pickup from the precinct's impound lot. It rattled and groaned as they bounced along, dust clouding the air behind them.
As they neared the canyon, the landscape grew more desolate. The sun was high, baking the rocks and scrub into a shimmering haze. The settlement came into view, a cluster of ramshackle buildings huddled at the base of the canyon walls. The only sign of life was a thin column of smoke rising from a chimney and the occasional figure moving between the buildings.
They parked the truck out of sight and changed into plain clothes, hoping to blend in. Jake stuffed his badge into his boot, just in case, while Mia tucked hers into the lining of her jacket. They had agreed: no one could know they were cops. Not here.
The old lodge stood at the edge of the settlement, a two-story building with a sagging porch and peeling paint. Inside, the air was thick with the smell of wood smoke and unwashed bodies. A few men sat at a rough-hewn table, playing cards and drinking from chipped mugs. They glanced up as Jake and Mia entered, their eyes narrow with suspicion.
"What brings you two out here?" asked a grizzled man with a scar across his cheek.
Jake forced a smile. "We heard there's work at the mine. Came to see if we can get hired."
The man grunted. "Mine's not hiring. Owner's gone. Won't be back for a week or more."
Mia stepped forward. "We're willing to wait. We've got experience. Coal miners back in Kentucky."
The men at the table exchanged glances. "Kentucky, huh? You don't sound like it."
Jake shrugged. "Moved around a lot. Need the work."
The man with the scar studied them for a long moment, then jerked his chin toward the stairs. "Rooms are upstairs. Pay by the week. Don't cause trouble."
Jake and Mia thanked him and headed up. The room was small and drafty, with a single bed and a cracked window that looked out over the canyon. They dropped their bags and sat on the bed, listening to the sounds of the settlement below.
"This place gives me the creeps," Mia whispered.
Jake nodded. "Me too. But if Dirty Joy is here, we'll find him."
Over the next few days, Jake and Mia settled into a routine. They helped out around the lodge—chopping wood, cleaning, and fixing broken furniture. The work was hard, but it gave them a reason to be there. They kept their eyes and ears open, listening for any mention of Dirty Joy or anything unusual.
The settlement was a strange mix of people: drifters, ex-cons, and a few families who had nowhere else to go. Most kept to themselves, but a few were openly hostile. Every night, the lodge filled with the sounds of drinking, laughter, and arguments. Fights broke out regularly, but no one seemed to care. The law was far away, and in the canyon, people made their own rules.
Jake and Mia tried to fit in, but they were outsiders. They didn't drink as much as the others, and they were too polite, too clean. After a few days, people started to notice.
"You two ain't like the rest of us," said a woman named Rose, who worked in the kitchen. She was sharp-eyed and quick with a knife. "You don't belong here."
Mia shrugged. "Just looking for work, same as everyone else."
Rose snorted. "Maybe. But you watch too much. You ask too many questions."
Jake tried to laugh it off. "Just trying to get to know people."
Rose didn't look convinced. "Watch your backs. People here don't like strangers."
As the days passed, the suspicion grew. People started to avoid Jake and Mia, whispering behind their backs. The man with the scar - his name was Boyd - watched them constantly, his expression unreadable. Even the children gave them wide berth.
One evening, as Jake and Mia sat by the fire in the lodge's common room, Boyd approached them. He leaned against the mantel, his eyes narrowed.
"You two been here a week," he said. "Still no word from the mine owner. What are you really after?"
Mia met his gaze. "Like we said, we're here to work."
Boyd shook his head. "I don't buy it. You don't act like miners. You don't drink, you don't fight, you don't even swear much. You're too clean. Too quiet."
Jake felt a prickle of unease. "We're just trying to stay out of trouble."
Boyd leaned in closer, his voice low. "Trouble finds everyone here, eventually. You'd best watch your step."
He walked away, leaving Jake and Mia to exchange worried glances. The atmosphere in the lodge had changed. The air was thick with tension, and every eye seemed to be on them.
That night, as they lay in their room, Jake whispered, "We need to be careful. If anyone finds out we're cops…"
Mia nodded. "We'll stick to our story. But we need to find Dirty Joy soon. Before things get worse."
The next morning, the settlement was quiet. Most of the residents were still asleep or nursing hangovers. Jake and Mia decided to explore the area, hoping to find some clue about Dirty Joy's whereabouts.
They wandered through the canyon, past abandoned shacks and rusted machinery. The only sound was the wind whistling through the rocks. Then, as they rounded a bend, they saw a lone figure standing by a fire, his back to them.
Jake's heart skipped a beat. There was something familiar about the man's posture, the way he held himself. Could it be Dirty Joy?
Mia grabbed Jake's arm. "Let's get closer. But be careful."
They crept forward, their footsteps silent on the rocky ground. The man turned, and for a moment, their eyes met. Jake felt a jolt of recognition....! it was him. Dirty Joy.
But before they could react, the man's expression changed. He knew they were cops. And in the canyon, where the law was just a rumor, that made them targets.