Tricia Salazar, the young deputy with wide-set eyes and chipmunk cheeks. That caring disposition, that deep concern for the well-being of others, was why the girl was on her team. Every agency in the world needed someone with a sense of empathy, a gentler view of the world. Someone who saw things through a softer shade of rose-colored glasses.
“It won’t take them long to get to Mrs. Usury’s house,” she said. “In the meantime, what else do we know about this guy? You’ve spent the last six months getting to know him.”
Salazar’s expression became strained. “He was that guy, Sheriff. The one who’s impossible to get to know. He never really talked about his life. He never went out for drinks after a shift. We didn’t even know where he was living for the longest.”
“And after a while,” Anita said, walking up and handing Sun a cup of coffee, “we quit asking.”
Salazar looked like she carried the weight of the galaxy, her guilt so evident.
“Deputy,” Sun said, “no one saw this coming. This is not your fault.”
“It kind of is,” she said, twisting her hands. When Sun raised a questioning brow, she explained. “I vetted him.”
“Yeah, well, I vetted him, too. I vetted all of you. He slipped through all our fingers.”
The girl nodded, then steeled herself to face the challenge ahead. “We checked his house again a few minutes ago. No sign of him.”
“And you never saw him with anyone? No friends or known associates?”
Both women shook their heads. He was probably too busy stalking the St. Aubins. Sun was a little surprised no one in the household had noticed him. But that was the thing about Price. He was so very ordinary. So easily dismissed.
Sun’s phone rang. It was Zee. She put her on speakerphone.
“Hey, boss.” Her voice sounded sad, and adrenaline shot through Sun’s body. “I didn’t want this over the radio.”
“No,” she whispered.
“I’m sorry. He’s definitely been here. Mrs. Usury is dead.”
“Mrs. Usury?” For some reason, she turned to Levi, and he stiffened.
“It looks like he’s been staying here for a few days. He must’ve wanted to keep an eye on Sybil while he had her in the well house.”
She studied Levi’s beautiful frame. His solid jaw. His full mouth. His presence was comforting. “If he was staying at her residence, why go to the well house from the opposite direction?”
“To throw us off,” both Levi and Zee answered simultaneously.
“Just in case,” Levi added.
“Well, it certainly worked. He’s not there now?”
“No,” Quincy said. “But his patrol unit is, and it’s still warm. There are some tracks beside the house, but hell if I know how old they are. Either way, looks like we just missed him.”
“And it’s getting dark,” Zee said. “We need to get on this. We need the tracker.”
Levi grabbed a rifle from the back of Sun’s cruiser. He started to take off, but he turned, grabbed the lapel of her parka, and pulled her close. With his mouth barely inches from hers, he said, “Keep your head down, and try to keep up.”
He didn’t wait. He took off at a dead run, following the tracks left in the snow, as the rest of the team did indeed try to keep up. Sun, Quincy, and Zee ran through the snow and brush as darkness crept in around them, and while Sun lost any sight of tracks a half mile back, Levi kept going at a breakneck speed.
Then, without warning, he slowed his pace so they could catch up. Their breaths fogged in the air, the altitude making breathing even harder. He knelt and held up a fist, signaling for them to stop.
They gathered around him and took a knee. “We’re closing the distance. We need to strategize.”
“What?” Sun gasped for air. “We need to catch up to them. That’s a good strategy.”
“No, we need to take the high ground.” He looked at Zee and then at her rifle, a rifle she carried like a newborn in her arms. “How good are you with that?”
“Very.”
“See this?” He pointed to a disturbance in the snow. “He was dragging her before. Now he’s carrying her, so I don’t know if she passed out or if he’s caught on to the fact that we’re behind him and has picked up the pace. He’s going for Joey Bachicha’s hunting cabin. He must’ve been scoping out this area for months to know it’s there. We can’t let him get to it.”
“Why?” Quincy asked. “Besides the obvious.”
“The obvious being the fact