went down over there, that means either the shooter closed the distance . . . or, there are at least two people involved.”
“Two people missing,” Lola mused. “It would take more than one to carry them away.”
“Or one of the Meads is also a kidnapper,” the judge said. “Nothing people do surprises me anymore.”
“I hear that, Judge,” Lola said. “I hear that . . .”
“One thing is certain,” Cutter said. “At least one of the Meads was struck violently enough to break a tooth. Judging from the frozen saliva in one spot, the blow was enough to knock them unconscious so they could be taken to a second location.” He shot a glance at Ned Jasper. “And when there are two separate crime scenes, the second is almost always a homicide.”
“That puts them gone for two days,” Lola whispered. “Not good.”
Ned took an evidence baggie from his jacket and held it open so Lola could drop in the frozen disk to retain its DNA before it melted, along with the tooth.
Birdie stared at the bloody ice as if hypnotized. Her head suddenly snapped up and she looked toward the river, as if she’d heard something through the fog. “Okay,” she said, sounding like the principal that she was. “It’s twenty minutes to five. If you want to get back to Stone Cross tonight, we gotta be on the boat in no more than one hour. Less is better.”
Markham gave a soft smile. He surely meant well, but his words came like a condescending pat on the shoulder. “Homicide investigations take time, Ms. Pingayak.”
“I’m sure they do,” Birdie said. “But the river doesn’t give a shit . . . Your Honor. Either you finish up in an hour, or this turns into one of those Agatha Christie–type deals where we’re all stuck here together playing gin rummy and trying to figure out which one of us is the killer—maybe until the ice gets thick enough for someone to come get us on snow machines.”
“You guys should go ahead and wrap it up,” Ned said. “Me and Vitus are gonna stay here anyway.”
“Isn’t somebody going after the Meads?” Birdie asked, looking directly at Cutter.
He gritted his teeth. Thinking through all the possible outcomes. It felt so very wrong not to leave now, to go after them at this moment. The storm would blow in and cover any remaining tracks, and likely make travel impossible.
Lola spoke next, while Cutter lay down again to study the ground where he’d found the tooth.
“There’s this scenario question we always hear about in the Marshals Service,” she said. “You’re working the back of a residence, assigned to guard this mob witness with a serious threat on his life. A little girl runs up to your post crying her face off and saying her kid brother is drowning in the pool a few houses down. She begs you to come save him. You call for backup, but the instructor tells you the radios are down. The scenario is a no win. There’s no way to know if it’s a trick or not without abandoning your post. If you stay at your post like they tell you, the kid drowns. You go check on the kid, the mob comes and whacks your witness.”
“I’d fail that scenario,” Birdie said.
“Ah,” Markham said. “Reality isn’t a scenario, Deputy . . .”
“True enough, Your Honor,” Cutter said, rolling back to his feet. “This reality is even more stark. We don’t know if there’s enough of a trail to take us to the Meads, or if they’d be alive when we got to them. But I’m certain there’s a woman back in Stone Cross who wants to see you dead.” He looked up at Jasper. “It’s up to you and the lieutenant, of course, but I’m not comfortable leaving you here. There’s too great a chance Rolf Hagen’s killer will come back.”
“I know,” Jasper said, resigned to it.
Cutter gave a curt nod, coming to a decision. “Warr seems like the type to trust the boots on the ground. I’ll give him a call. Nobody should stay here under these circumstances.”
Vitus slumped in relief. “I wouldn’t mind not staying out here all night. I saw some big tracks downriver. A mile or so back when I was riding in.”
“What do you mean by big?” Cutter asked.
Ned closed his eyes and groaned. “Let me guess: Arulutaq?”
“I think it was,” Vitus said.
“The Hairy Man,” Birdie said. “It’s like the bigfoot.”
“Worth checking out the tracks,” Cutter said.
He’d seen