was her stalker. But if he was dead—then who was stalking her now? Was this the first book, or had that person mailed others?
Alan stared at the packed bookshelves.
CHAPTER FORTY
8:11 a.m.
Bridger County Sheriff’s Office
Liam cornered Sheriff Taggart at the county office. He was exhausted after his and Rae’s middle-of-the night exploration. Who was he kidding? More than their brief stakeout had kept him up all night. He hadn’t been able to shut his mind down after that kiss. His heart either. What had compelled him to invite a kiss? Rae had been caught up in the moment as well, or else why had she responded to him? She’d said nothing about it this morning, and that was just as well. He had better shake it off and put his energy and thoughts into their discovery. He needed to inform the sheriff as soon as possible about what they’d seen at the house. Rae waited in his truck so she could make phone calls. She’d left a voicemail for Astor but had not received a call back yet. Liam was relieved. He didn’t feel comfortable with what she considered the next logical step.
The sheriff went through a stack of phone messages. “I’m listening, Liam. Go ahead.”
“I need your full attention.”
“And you have it.”
Okay, then. “Yesterday, after you informed Astor of his brother’s murder, Astor and his associate transported snowmobiles by truck to a closed forest road, where they snowmobiled into the woods. We followed them as far as the truck, but we couldn’t go all the way. So last night, we snowmobiled into the woods along the same road coming from the east. We found a cabin with a lot of activity involving young women. I saw Astor’s associate there but not Astor himself. He could have been there but out of sight.”
“Is that it?” Sheriff Taggart asked.
“There’s something going on at that house. An armed guard was outside. The point is that I’m concerned those girls were being held against their will. Take a look at these pictures.” Liam held out his cell with the images he’d taken.
“You took pictures?” Taggart ran his hand down his face. “You’re stepping way over the line.”
“Am I? Look at these girls. This guy could be trafficking humans and drugs and who knows what else. They look too young. They’re at least underage to be drinking, if that’s all that’s going on.” What more did Taggart need?
A deep frown developed on Taggart’s face as he adjusted his glasses and looked closer at the photographs. “I can’t just go knock on the door. I have to have a good reason.”
“And these pictures aren’t reason enough?”
Squeezing his eyes shut, Sheriff Taggart rubbed his left temple. He dropped his hand, opened his eyes, and blew out a long breath. “You should know better, McKade. In the absence of a criminal background or arrest, or proof that a crime is being committed, I can’t get a warrant. These girls could be there for a slumber party. I’ll let Detective Moffett know. She’s digging into info on Astor for me. She’ll find out who owns the property, to start. We get a connection to a crime, then we can try for a warrant. But right now it looks like at least one of those girls in this picture could be his daughter. I need more. Like I said. Slumber party.”
“You have a connection to a crime. He’s connected to the masked man.”
Sheriff Taggart sighed. “It’s circumstantial. We’re not certain it’s the same person. I know you don’t do this kind of sloppy work in the DEA. Not if you want your charges to stick.”
Liam backed off. Fisted his hands. “Right. Okay, you’re right. Maybe I’m going after this too hard, but it’s more that I got a bad feeling. Seeing that armed guard—he was far from friendly. Something wasn’t right at that house, okay? And it isn’t easy to get in and out of there. Snowmobiles only.”
“Sounds inconvenient but not criminal.”
“Or . . . it’s exclusive.”
The sheriff looked at him long and hard. “I’ve spent a lifetime here in this county, so I have to say you’ve probably seen more of this kind of thing in your line of work.”
“Unfortunately. I want to be wrong. Please . . . just prove me wrong.”
“We don’t have a lot of human trafficking in this state, but it does exist. Traffickers prefer the bigger cities. More clients that way.”
“Maybe.” Liam couldn’t help but think about resorts and hotels for tourists—common places for