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  He stayed silent as the news sank in. “Our guy was murdered,” he said, breathless at the thought.

  “I’ll continue looking over the remains and running tox screens,” Les continued. “Maybe I can pull something else out of this, but I have to tell you, this is one of the more gruesome sets of remains I’ve seen in a while. This one time, we had a guy who’d died in his apartment, midsummer...”

  The man droned on about the gory details of his former case, but all Casper could think about was the skull he’d held in his hands, the feel of the oil from the man’s bones on his gloves. His stomach roiled, threatening to empty, and he forced the images from his mind. Sometimes the strong just had to muscle past the things that made the average man pale.

  “Least this guy’s death makes for one heck of a story,” Les continued with a dismissive chuckle. “Would’ve hated to be in his shoes.” Les laughed at his stupid joke. “Gunshot wound and a bear mauling... It’s like the double whammy of deaths. Hell of a way to go. I guess the fates wanted this guy double-dead.”

  Chapter Ten

  There hadn’t been a single day that she had thought about playing hooky from work. Lex loved her job, and the fact that each day she could help people and the occasional animal. In her line of work, she never knew what was coming around the next corner, and that level of spontaneity always made her come back for more. It wasn’t just the normal nine-to-five where she was stuck in some cubicle with a heinous boss coming down on her. In fact, today was the first time Dragger had really said something to her that was less than cordial.

  Yet she was tempted to call in and tell him that she wouldn’t make it in tomorrow.

  She snorted at the thought. That would go over like a ton of bricks. By the end of the phone call she’d have no job, no place to live and no way to help Casper solve the case. She’d have nothing.

  But there was a nagging feeling in her gut that told her she couldn’t quit—she couldn’t just let him take her back home for the night and leave things as up in the air as they were. She wanted—no, she needed to get to the bottom of this.

  Maybe she could push the issue with Dragger that it was vital for them to figure out a way to stop the flow of drugs through their park—especially if it led to murder. They didn’t need that kind of publicity. No doubt Dragger would simply tell her that nature would stop the drug running long before they could. And maybe he was right. Maybe this drug running had just been a one-time thing. Maybe she and Casper were doing nothing more than chasing rabbits.

  He had to see that if and when the media got their hands on it, their office’s role in the investigation would inevitably come into question. They’d have a royal storm on their hands if they didn’t treat the situation delicately—there’d only been two other murders in the park’s history. This would draw headlines. She had to make Dragger understand that this investigation had to come first.

  She reached for her purse on the car’s floor.

  “What’re you doing?” Casper asked, carefully keeping one eye on the road as they drove back toward the main park entrance.

  “I’m going to call my boss. Maybe I can convince him to let me keep working on our investigation.”

  A look of concern flickered over Casper’s face. “You can’t. No, Lex. I don’t want you to screw up your life over this. I want you to be at my side, but don’t risk your job over this case. You’re kidding yourself if you think calling in again is going to help anything—it’ll only piss him off and put you on his radar.”

  “I don’t get how winterizing is more important than letting me solve a murder. I just don’t understand his thinking.”

  He reached over, putting his hand on her leg and slowly stroking her thigh. “Lex, I don’t know how this thing is going to play out. For all we know, we might hit a dead end on this and never find who was behind this guy’s murder—if that happened, would it be worth compromising your career? And don’t get me started on your safety. You know how I feel about that. We’re dealing with a biker gang here. If you want an idea of what they’re capable of, all you need to do is take a look at Razor’s body.”

  She hit the button on her phone that lit up its screen. They still had service.

  “You’re right, Casper,” she said, staring at her wallpaper of the jagged Citadel Peak. “These guys are dangerous, but I’m not afraid. I’m not the kind of woman who passes the buck when things get hard. If I was, I wouldn’t be working at one of the most rugged national parks in the United States. Instead I would have a safe little desk job. I want my life to be an adventure. I want to help people. Most of all, I want to make sure that justice is more than just lip service in this world. This is my way to make a difference.”

  She set her hand on his, stroking the lines that ran over the backs of his hands.

  Casper nodded with a tired, handsome grin, the kind that told her he’d known what she was going to say and wasn’t surprised. “I love that about you, Lex. I do. But you need to know exactly what you might be walking into with this. I don’t want you to have unrealistic expectations.”

  Her thoughts moved to Travis. He had always accused her of living with “unrealistic expectations,” no more so than when she had tried to talk to him about their relationship and how she had wanted it to be. It wasn’t that she had wanted the perfect marriage, but at the very least she had wanted a marriage based on honesty and enough mutual respect that they would talk and work together to make their relationship stronger. Instead he had pulled further and further away anytime she had asked him about anything beyond their four walls or the simple events of their work. In the end, her “unrealistic expectations” for a marriage that was something more than her waiting for him had cost her the man she had once loved. Yet she was glad she hadn’t let it go on. She couldn’t have suffered any more of the deafening silence and the complacency.

  “Don’t say that, Casper. I know what I want. I know what I’m doing. Trust me,” she said, her voice flecked with old hurt.

  His eyes widened slightly, as if her words had caught him off guard.

  She lifted her phone and dialed Dragger. He answered on the first ring.

  “Are you ready to go to the chalet in the morning?” he said, his voice gruff and unwavering.

  She thought about avoiding giving him a piece of her mind, but after telling Casper how strong she was, how she believed in herself and in her boss’s ability to accept this, she couldn’t back down. “Mr. Dragger, so glad to catch you. I just wanted to give you an update on the situation.”

  “Unless it’s to tell me that you’re ready to hand off the investigation, I don’t want to hear it.”

  “That’s exactly why I’m calling, sir. I think it would be ill-advised to pass this to someone else at this juncture.”

  “It’s nothing more than a bear attack. Let it go—Travis is supposed to be working up there tomorrow and he will take care of the last bit of cleanup as far as this case goes. It’s time for you to move on. We don’t have time or the budget to deal with this right now. You are aware that our tourism rate fell twelve percent this year? This is going to cut into our budget significantly if we’re not careful.”

  Her mouth dropped at the sound of Travis’s name. There was no way she would let him take this from her. He had already taken so much.

  “Actually, sir, I was calling to let you know that we’ve just talked to the medical examiner who was handling the remains.”

  “What about them?”

  “According to him, sir, we’re no longer dealing with an accidental death. I’m afraid to tell you he believes that this case is a homicide.”

  There was a moment of loud silence between them.

  “Sir, I was hoping that, as this case has grown and the media will no doubt be involved, I could continue my work on furthering the efforts of the investigation,” she said, s
tumbling over her words as she tried to make it sound as respectful but necessary as possible.

  Dragger made a sucking noise. “I appreciate your enthusiasm and candor in this, Alexis. I do. However, that doesn’t change the fact that I’m giving this to Travis and his guys. I want you to meet up with him in the morning at the ranger station. You can give him your notes and findings. He will do an adequate job, I’m sure. After your accident, I would hate for you to put yourself in harm’s way any more than necessary.” The tone of his voice was dry and threatening, a sharp contrast to what might have been caring words.

  “I’m fine,” she said, rolling her neck as if Dragger could see just how fine she was through the phone. “I’m not feeling dizzy. It was only a minor concussion.”

  “With that type of injury, you shouldn’t be putting any more stress on your body.” Dragger sighed loudly into the phone. “Don’t fight me on this. No matter how this investigation plays out, this guy is dead—so don’t risk harming yourself.”

  “You’re right, sir,” she said, “but the fact remains he was smuggling drugs across the border into our park and then was murdered. Who’s to say something like this isn’t going to happen again? If it gets out that we aren’t doing everything in our power to stop murders within our borders, our tourism next year may drop even lower.”

  “This investigation isn’t yours to worry about anymore, Alexis. Travis will get a handle on this, and winter waits for no one. If you don’t have your butt up at the Sperry Chalet in the morning, I will consider that your resignation.” He hung up the phone.

  “That bastard,” she said, throwing the phone into her purse. “He’s giving this case to Travis... Travis. Can you freaking believe it?” She slammed her hand against the dashboard, making pain radiate up from her hand and into her arm.

  Right now, he must have had his lips planted squarely on Dragger’s butt in order to get this case. No doubt Travis begged him for it. He’d always been the kind of guy who wants all the glory.

  This time she couldn’t let him have it. She had to stop this from getting into Travis’s hands, but if she didn’t follow Dragger’s orders she’d be fired, and then that was exactly where the case would end up. There was only one thing they could do—they had to get on top of this. They had to figure out who was behind the murder before she was supposed to meet up with Travis.

  “Travis is going to be working with me?” Casper pointed at his chest as though he was as taken aback as she was by the information.

  “Sounds like it. Aren’t you the lucky one?”

  Casper clenched the wheel.

  “I have an idea,” she said, sweeping through her memories for anything that could help their case. “There’s a biker bar just north of us here in Columbia Falls. It’s called The Pig Snout.”

  “The last thing you need right now, with your recent concussion, is to go tie a few on.” Casper cocked an eyebrow as he looked over to her.

  She smirked. “That’s not what I was after, smarty-pants. It’s a place where I’ve seen bikers hang out. I’ve never been in there. It may be nothing, but there’re always Harleys parked out front. Maybe someone there will know something.”

  She was grasping at straws. Even if the bikers that hung out there were affiliated with an MC, there was little to no chance that they would give them any more information than Lois Trainer had, but she had to do something. She couldn’t let Casper down, and she couldn’t let her ex move in and screw up not only her investigation, but also whatever was happening between her and Casper. Nothing good could come of their budding romance if Casper was forced to work the investigation with her ex-husband.

  * * *

  BEFORE LONG, THEY were parked outside the bar. Its sign was missing some of its lights and it read nothing more than “Pig not.” Its defunct sign matched the building perfectly, listing to the left as though it had seen a few too many drunken men stumble from its doors and was simply following their lead. The gravel parking lot was littered with a variety of bikes. She didn’t know much about motorcycles, but a few looked like the ones that she always saw on the shows about choppers, with their too-long handlebars and their intricate detail work. One bike even had skulls machined into the chrome of its wheels.

  She thought back to the paint job on Razor’s bike. Two skulls. Was it possible that these guys were part of the same motorcycle club? Had Razor been here, at this bar, in the days before he was killed? Could one of these men be responsible for his death?

  Her mind raced with unanswered questions, her gut roiling with nerves. If these men were involved with Razor in any way, she’d be walking into a snake’s den. The men who made up the one-percenter motorcycle clubs were the type who didn’t just think, but knew, that they were above the law. One word came to mind as she thought about biker gangs: hubris.

  “Are you sure that you want to do this?” Casper asked, motioning toward the listing bar. “We could look more into the bag we found. Maybe it can tell us something about the guy and where he came from. Heck, maybe we can find the woman from The Prince and the Pea. Maybe she bought the bag or something.”

  It was a cop-out. He knew they wouldn’t find anything from that bag. It was nothing more than a run-of-the-mill, every-survivalist-owns-one kind of bag. There had to be millions of those things in circulation around the country. It would be safer to go down that path, but she didn’t have time for safe—she only had time for answers.

  If nothing else, at least he hadn’t warned her about her safety again. Maybe he was learning that she was tougher than she looked.

  She opened the door and stepped out of the car. “You coming?” She hitched her thumb toward the bar. “I bet there’s somebody in there who just can’t wait to buy you a drink. Especially with that badge hanging from your waist.” She nodded in its direction. “Just a suggestion, but you may want to leave that in the car.”

  He looked down with surprise, as if he had forgotten he’d put it on that morning. “Good idea. I’m sure we’d get a real warm welcome with me wearing it.” He dropped the badge onto the dashboard and got out of the car.

  “We may get one anyways.” She led the way to the bar, keeping a comfortable distance between them in case any of the bikers saw them. As they approached the bar, she reached down her shirt and lifted her breasts so her cleavage could be seen just above her shirt line.

  “What’re you doing?” Casper asked, not taking his eyes off her hands.

  “I’m going to get us the information we need one way or another. If anyone asks, you’re my brother.” She stopped. “Actually, why don’t you hold back for a while, let me get a read on this place before you come in. While you’re waiting, why don’t you call your friend at the US Marshal Service and see if you can get more information on this Razor guy? Maybe they could at least get us his full name.” She motioned for him to retreat and then opened the door and strode in, not waiting for him to respond.

  Men were lined up at the bar. Most had beers in front of them, but a few had tumblers filled with dark amber liquid. Each had on a leather vest, or “cut” as she remembered them being called on television. On the back of the man closest to the door was a large patch. It was made up of the same image that had been on Razor’s bike—two skulls and a snake wrapping its body beneath. Above the image were the words “Hells Keepers.”

  She’d found the right place. Now she just needed to find the right man.

  As she started to make her way deeper into the bar, the conversations around her hushed.

  There was a gray-haired man with a nearly white beard sitting at the far end, and he waved her over.

  She looked back over her shoulder, but Casper hadn’t come in. Maybe she had made a mistake in not having him with her. At least she would have been afforded some level of protection from the bikers. Then again, she couldn’t be weak now.

  She picked h
er way over to the older man, trying to saunter as she moved through pushed-out chairs and steel-toed riding boots.

  A thin bead of sweat rolled down her back, making her feel even more afraid. If they noticed her acting nervous or off they wouldn’t give her anything, and it would only put her further into danger.

  “How’s it going, pretty lady?” he asked, motioning for her to take the unoccupied stool next to him.

  He had a patch that read “Madness and Mayhem,” and above it was one that read “Hells Keepers.” On the other side of the vest were two patches: “President” and “Montana Chapter.” There were a series of diamonds and letters over the rest of the front of his vest, but she had no idea what they all meant.

  “It’s goin’ real good,” she said, trying to act as innocent and as acquiescent as possible. “How about yourself? Long day riding?” She slipped onto the stool and the man motioned to the bartender.

  “You want a beer?”

  Drinking was a terrible idea, but she couldn’t fail now.

  “Sure, I’ll take a beer.”

  The man nodded toward the bartender, who grabbed a glass, filling it under the tap and then sliding it down the bar.

  She grabbed it like she had caught beers a thousand times, instead of just having seen the movement in the movies. In a way, the action made her feel even more like an outsider.

  “What’s a pretty lady like you doing at a place like this tonight? Your man get mad at you?”

  She took a long sip of the cheap and bitter beer and forced it down. “Nah, just saw you guys were here. Thought I’d stop by.”

  “We were here, huh?” He looked back at the man standing behind them like he was in on some inside joke. “I haven’t seen you around here before. You looking for someone specific?”

  “Actually, I met a guy a while back. He said his name was Razor. You know him?” She cringed inwardly as she thought of exactly how and why she had met the man.