snow he couldn’t see, picking himself up and falling forward. I will not die, I will not die. But his thoughts felt slow again, the same way they had at the top of that cliff. At the thought of that terrifying fall—that man with the loud deep voice—he pushed forward again, his strength getting less. So hot, so hotsohotsohot. With the last of his strength, he pulled off his jeans and his sweatshirt, leaving them in the snow.
His head swam and he tripped, falling to the ground with a crunch of ice and cry of pain, sharp needles sticking into every part of his naked skin. He reached a hand forward and felt nothing. He tumbled into it, rolling, falling, somewhere small and dark and soft where the cold and the wind couldn’t find him.
Will you die today?
No, he tried to yell. Live! But the words died on his lips as the world around him disappeared.
CHAPTER FIVE
Offered up her services? Which ones exactly? “Dwayne, what do I have to offer in a murder investigation?”
“No one’s asking you to be a police officer. Although I’m sure some of it is in your blood.” He gave her an affectionate smile. “What we really need is someone who knows the area very well and owns a four-wheel-drive vehicle. That’s you. You’ll meet the agent who’s been sent in. Nice guy it seems. New at the department and get this—a native Californian. The guy showed up wearing so much winter gear, he was walking like the Michelin Man, and asked me how to de-ice his windshield.” Dwayne laughed and Harper smiled at the image of the unknown agent. “He’s over at the Larkspur now, but he’ll be back soon, and he’ll let you know what he needs.”
A knock at the door interrupted them and without waiting for an answer, Keri stuck her head in. “Dwayne, line one for you. Bob Elders from Missoula.”
Dwayne’s lips thinned. “Thanks, Keri.” He looked at Harper. “I gotta take this. Do you mind waiting in here for the agent? Mark Gallagher’s his name.”
Harper gave a distracted nod as Dwayne left the room. She hadn’t decided if she would help out on this case. Something about it felt . . . risky in some personal way. She was sure it had to do with the fact that her dad had worked in this very building for so many years . . . she could practically feel him there, smell the aftershave he’d worn, hear his laugh . . .
Suddenly weary, she sat in one of the chairs at the table, glancing at the dark screen. Her attention was pulled by the thought of the man sitting alone in the cell, and she was grateful for the shift in focus. The soft sound of her fingers drumming on the table filled the room as she wondered what he was doing right then. Still sitting there? What else would he be doing, Harper? Was Dwayne right when he said the man hadn’t seen a car before? Curiosity needled her, the fact that he might be a killer—one who had a penchant for nailing his victims to walls with sharpened arrows—not enough to douse that particular sensation. Apparently.
She drummed at the table for a few minutes longer, then fiddled with her hands, bit at her lip, looked over at the door, and hesitated only another moment before she stood quickly and walked to the monitor. It came on with a click, the view of the small cell where the man still sat blinking to life. He was in the exact same position as before. In fact, it appeared as though he hadn’t moved a muscle.
For a solid minute, Harper simply watched him as he sat on the bench in the other room, still and unmoving. Through the anonymity of the screen, she allowed her eyes to roam freely over him—from his unruly hair down to his strange footwear. He was lean but muscular. Solid. He’d have the strength to shoot an arrow straight through a body. He was big. And strong. And wild looking.
Caveman, indeed.
She could see this man fighting wildebeest. And winning.
Who are you?
Her eyes moved to his hands, resting on his thighs. They were large, and even through the monitor she could see they had numerous scars. He had the hands of a . . . warrior, scarred and supremely masculine, and Harper wanted to study them, as though they were a work of art. They were . . . brutally