CHAPTER TWELVE
Tuesday, June 20
9:13 a.m.
Maggie huffed out a sigh of frustration when they got into Vic’s car. “Knowing that this guy doesn’t like getting his hands dirty, so to speak, doesn’t do a damn thing to help us figure out who he is or catch him.” She ran her hands through her hair, but all that did was make the chemical smell still lingering in her nose worse. Her chest tried to close up, her mind flailing to find an answer to a question that never should have been put into being.
She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply through her nose, filling her lungs to capacity before exhaling. The scent didn’t disappear, but her mind stopped its frantic circling. By the third breath, she felt something resembling calm. “It’s one step closer, which is better than what we had before.”
“Yes.” Vic’s voice was mild, and when she opened her eyes, it was to find him watching her with interest. He gave a half smile. “Yoga?”
“At least once a week—more if I can swing it.” She had a class that hiked into various parts of Glacier before doing the actual exercises, so they could be as close to nature as possible. She liked the peace it brought, liked the ability to be with people without them needing to fill the silence, just plain liked it.
Vic put the car into drive and headed out of the parking lot. A few minutes later, she realized where he was headed. “I’m not really hungry.”
“Neither am I, but Tucker likes the place, and we could both use a meal.”
She’d known he had a partner, of course. The BAU could send out a single agent in a pinch, but Britton had always liked to keep his people in pairs. She didn’t imagine that had changed much in the intervening years. People worked better when they had someone like-minded to bounce ideas off, like she and Vic had done in the morgue.
She hadn’t realized how much she missed it.
It doesn’t matter. That part of your life is over—by your choice.
It didn’t make the loss any less potent.
She recognized Vic’s partner the second they walked through the door of the diner. He was dressed in jeans, a henley, and a generic coat, which should have meant he’d blend in with the locals, but there was a stillness about him that said he saw everything in the room and had filed it away for later use. The fact that he was attractive and had hair a startling shade of red only added to the picture.
“Tucker is a good agent.” Vic touched her elbow, and she watched his partner note the move.
“Okay.” Interesting that that was the first thing he pointed out about his partner. She was curious, and not a little jealous. This man got to work with Vic daily and had the comfort of knowing that his association wouldn’t end when the case did.
But she couldn’t think about that right now.
He rose as they reached the table and offered a hand. “Tucker Kendrick. You must be Maggie Gaines.”
“I wish I could say whatever you’ve heard is false, but I’m sure it’s all too true.” She slid into the booth. Her heart lodged itself in her throat as Vic scooted in next to her, his thigh pressing against hers. He spread his arm over the back of the seat, not touching her, but she could feel the heat of him all the same.
“Hmm.” Tucker raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything else.
The tension radiating from Vic’s body wasn’t something she would have noticed if she wasn’t touching him. Vic gave him a significant look. “Let’s focus on the case.”
For a long moment, it seemed like Tucker would push the issue—and she knew exactly what the issue was. Me. Vic might not have shouted his interest in her from the rooftops, but Tucker was trained to watch people and see beneath the surface. Even if he wasn’t, Vic hadn’t exactly been subtle.
She could set things straight. It wouldn’t take much—a sarcastic comment and some distance between her and the man sitting next to her.
Maggie didn’t do it.
They weren’t breaking any rules by going on a date. It might be seen as a distraction—and it was—but there wasn’t much to be done about that. More than anything else, she refused to give up the chance to see if this thing between her and Vic was actually something.
I already know the answer to that.
They didn’t say anything until the waitress, a teenager named Becky, brought them coffee and took their order. Both Tucker and Vic loaded up on bacon and sausage, but she went with an omelet. She couldn’t stomach meat yet. After this case, she might have to take a page from Kat’s book and go vegetarian.
Vic’s thumb brushed her shoulder, almost imperceptibly. “We’re going back into the park the first chance we get. I need you to start putting things together on this end. The unsub orchestrated the husband’s face getting mutilated, though he didn’t do it himself.”
Tucker’s blue eyes narrowed. “Pretty damn personal to go for the face. Wonder if he backtracked to check out his handiwork after it was done.”
This, at least, Maggie had some authority to speak up about. “Almost impossible to track that, with the disturbances in the area from the animals—and it looks like two of our hikers found the body before they scattered. Wyatt should know more when we check in, but the whole scene was contaminated—all of them seem to be.”
Vic tapped one finger on the table. “What if the married couple isn’t connected to the missing hikers?”
“What?” She twisted to look at him. From his pensive expression, this was something he’d been chewing on for a while now. “Why kill both of them, then?”
“You mentioned eye for an eye. That’s one reason to go for the eyes of a victim. There’s another option, though.”
Tucker hissed out a breath. “He saw something he shouldn’t have.”
“Yes.” Vic nodded.
Maggie pressed her lips together and looked at the murders of the Haglunds in a different light. They were locals and avid hikers. In the report, David said they were hiking a loop on some of the primitive trails to hit the glaciers that West Glacier got its name from. “We’ve theorized that the unsub has some sort of camp set up. The Haglunds’ planned path took them close to Fifty Mountain, and then they veered west. It could be that they stumbled on that camp.”
“Would he really risk camping on one of these so-called primitive trails?”
She shook her head. “Probably not. But it wouldn’t take much—the Haglunds seeing something that caught their attention and going to investigate. Some sections of the trail they were on are so high, you can see for miles around.” She’d done the same thing in the past.
“That changes things—and nothing at all.” Vic caught her look. “We can guess that they weren’t far off Fifty Mountain when they found him—if that’s what happened—because of where the bodies were found. Even if he was capable of herding a victim to his chosen location, their time of deaths were too close together for him to have done it twice.”
That made sense. She followed his line of thought. “All it really means is that there might not be an apparent connection between them and the missing hikers.” It was a piece of the puzzle, but it wasn’t ultimately helpful.
And she still had to talk to her boss about the bear. Knowing the bear killed Lauren Rosario, rather than found her dead body, changed things. The fact that Lauren had been injured to the point of death was irrelevant. No matter how discreet Kat was, this information would have to be reported, and, as a result, it would get out. If they didn’t take decisive action, the local media would have a heyday. There was nothing people liked to read about more than killer animals, and the park had been fighting for years to keep the grizzly population growing. If some of those assholes had their way, they’d exterminate the entire species.
All of it meant that when a bear killed a person, certain measures had to be taken, and they had to be taken quickly.
It was a goddamn tragedy, as far as she was concerned—yet another blame to lay at the feet of the unsub.
“Maggie?”
She looked up to realize both men were staring at her. Obviously they’d said something that she missed. “I’m sorry, I was thinking about the bear.”
Tucker blinked. “You’re going to have to elaborate.”
“Lauren Rosario’s cause of death was blood loss from a severed femoral artery—severed by a bear’s bite.” She spoke quietly and clearly, hating saying the words aloud as much as she hated thinking them. More, really, because it made this whole nightmare that much more real.
Tucker shook his head, still looking shocked. “That’s a seriously shitty way to go.”
“Yes.”
Vic cleared his throat. “It doesn’t change anything. She was hit twice by the unsub, and if the bear hadn’t gotten to her, he would have. Find the connection, Tucker. Line it up, nice and neat, so when we bring this guy in, any jury they come up with will convict him.”
Maggie wanted to say that if—when—they found this person, then of course a jury would find him guilty, but she knew better. Innocent until proven guilty. Even if they caught him in the act of killing a person, there was room for doubt about a number of things, mainly his state of mind. Juries didn’t go for insanity pleas as much as they used to, but that was generally because there was concrete evidence of premeditation. That’s what they needed to ensure the unsub was put behind bars for good.
“I’ll start with the missing hikers and go from there.” Tucker drained his Coke. “You’re going to want to update Britton before you head back into the boonies again.” He stood. “Nice meeting you, Ranger Gaines.” And then he was gone.
She watched him get into his rental car and then turned to Vic. “He seems nice.”
“He’s charming.” Vic said the word like it was a bad thing. But then, he would think that. He was someone who valued deeds over words, so a partner who oozed charm on command would drive him batty.
She shook her head. “What was Britton thinking putting the two of you together?”
“I’m sure he’s trying to teach one of us a lesson, though whether that’s Tucker or me is up for grabs.”
Becky reappeared with their food, looking crestfallen when she realized Tucker was gone. Maggie started eating, only belatedly realizing that Vic probably should have moved to the other side of the booth. “I know we have plans tonight and Wyatt wants us to take another night before going back into the park.”
“I’m sensing a but coming.”
Because there was. She took a bite of her omelet, chewed, and swallowed. “But every hour counts right now. The more feet on the ground, the better.”
She thought he’d argue, but he just took several more bites before responding. “Let’s talk to Wyatt and then we’ll see where we end up.”
Though she wanted to argue that there wasn’t time for that, the reality was that they couldn’t get transport back to Fifty Mountain without Wyatt’s permission, not unless they hiked in themselves, which would waste even more time than being forced to wait for morning. She bounced her foot, irritated by the delay. “There’s got to be something to find. I know it. If we were just there . . .”
Tuesday, June 20
11:30 a.m.
Vic didn’t want to go back into the park, where Maggie would be in danger again. He wanted to pack her up and take her to a hotel and lock themselves in for a few weeks. By the time they surfaced, this would all be over and they could move on with life as normal. It was a childish desire, and unforgivably selfish in the mix. If he wanted to, he could send Tucker into Glacier in his place and take over pulling at the strings connecting the victims to see what fell out, but Maggie would be going back into the park regardless. It was her job, and his wanting to protect her wasn’t going to be enough to convince her to stay out of it.
Hell, she might lose her job even if she was willing to listen, and it was readily apparent that she loved her job, the last few days excepting. He couldn’t ask that of her.
They drove back to the ranger headquarters, each lost in their own world. He didn’t tell her what he was thinking, because it wouldn’t do a damn bit of good. She was right—there needed to be more boots on the ground, and they needed to do their part.
That didn’t mean he had to like it.
“Stop brooding.”
Vic looked over as he parked. “I’m not brooding.”
“Yes, you are. You’re thinking awfully hard over there about something that isn’t making you happy.” She hesitated, indecision written across her face. “Do we have to have another talk about my capabilities? Or are you regretting crossing the line with the kissing and talk of dates?”
“Never.” He reached over and took her hand, the only move he’d allow himself. Her calluses were a match for his, her nails unpainted, the skin on the back of her hand soft and sun kissed. “I should have found you after my divorce.”
“No.” She covered his hand with her other one. “No, it wasn’t right before, and that would have affected everything. Maybe it’s not right now and this is all a lost cause, but if we’re going to do this, it’s not going to be with the shadow of your ex hanging over us—or with the shadow of that case.”
“Do I have to tell you again that you were perfectly justified in walking away?”
Her smile was sad. “We all have our demons to answer to. I don’t want this to turn into another one.”
“It won’t.” He didn’t know what he could say to wipe that look off her face, and kissing her here, in front of her place of work, wasn’t an option. He wasn’t so far gone as to forget that. So Vic just squeezed her hand and reached for his door. “I’m being overprotective. Someone whose opinion I value told me that I need to knock that shit off, but it’s harder than I anticipated.”
“Packing me away won’t solve any of these problems, and it won’t bring you peace. You’ll still spend every waking second wondering what I’m up to and if I’m okay.” Maggie motioned to the park as a whole. “Statistically, I’m more likely to be run down by a drunk driver than get hurt here.”
“Statistics don’t mean a damn thing when there’s a killer on the loose.” It didn’t take much to superimpose her face over the victim’s, to see her skin gone pale with death, the two arrows protruding from her back, the lingering fear in her eyes despite the very thing that made her Maggie being gone.
He went cold at the image. “I won’t let him touch you.”
“I know.” She rounded the car, and this time her smile was a whole lot warmer. “And right back atcha. We’ll watch each other’s backs.”
There really wasn’t much more to say than that. He’d do his best to make sure she emerged from this case unscathed, and she’d do the same for him—as if they were still partners, though the new awareness simmering between them was something that could explode when he least expected it. Even now, knowing better, he wanted to reach for her, to press her against the side of his rental, to kiss her until neither of them cared about the case or the unsub or the missing hikers. Vic cleared his throat. “We should get moving.”
“Agreed.” But she reached up and pressed her hand to his chest. “Promise me that even if we don’t manage it today, we’ll find time for that date.”
“I promise.”
The wind chose that moment to kick up, and he held up a hand to shield his face. In the last few minutes, clouds had appeared to blot out the sun, the sky turning from a happy blue to something significantly more sinister. If he were a superstitious man, he’d take that as an ill omen. “Weather changes fast up here.”
“Hmm? Yeah.” She cast a suspicious look at the clouds. “It’s the Continental Divide. We’re a bit west of it right now, but when you get the wet climate of the west part of the park colliding with the more arid of the east, microbursts are the least of your worries.” She pressed her lips together. “This spells trouble for those missing hikers—and for our team out there. Rain masks the trails, and there’s a very real risk of exposure.”
The chances of their getting back the four remaining hikers unscathed decreased by the hour. “Let’s get in there and talk to Wyatt and see where they’re at with things.”
“Okay.” She led the way, marching through the doors and back to Wyatt’s tiny office. He was on the phone when they came through the door, and held up a finger requesting silence. He didn’t say much beyond “Yes, sir” and “No, sir.” Which meant he was getting his ass reamed by a superior over their current situation.
Vic’s suspicion was confirmed when Wyatt hung up the phone and turned to Maggie. “What have you got?”
“Only bad news. The male victim was killed before the female we found at Kootenai Lake, which we suspected.” She hesitated and then lifted her chin, looking like she was about to step into the ring. “And it was a bear who got to the other female—and it got to her before she died.”
“Shit.” Wyatt pressed his hands to his face for a long moment and then dropped them onto his desk. “I’ll take someone and go after the bear myself, though we’re going to have a hell of a time tracking it with this bitch coming at us fast.” He waved at the window.
From the shocked look on Maggie’s face, Vic would bet the other man didn’t swear all that often. Not surprising that this situation was bringing out the worst in him—it would bring out the worst in all of them before it was over. She recovered faster than her boss did. “We need to get back out there.”
“Impossible.”
“But, sir—”
Wyatt pointed again at the window. “We need more manpower—but no one is going to be flying in this until it’s over. The teams are going to have to hunker down where they can, and we’ll just have to pray for the missing hikers.”
“Prayers aren’t going to do a damn thing, and you know it.”
He raised a bushy eyebrow. “Neither is getting you, your agent, and a pilot killed because I made the wrong call.” He leveled a look at Vic. “You’re not saying much.”
“This is your wheelhouse. I’d like an updated report, if possible, before we head out.” He ignored Maggie’s staring daggers at him.
If anything, Wyatt’s eyebrows rose higher. None of that leaked into his voice, though. “Found three different trails leading from Fifty Mountain. One headed south toward Many Glacier, and they’re sticking to the path from all appearances. Hard to say how many of the hikers there are or what condition they’re in.”
Sticking to the trail was the worst thing they could do, even if it made the going faster. Vic straightened. “Could they reach the Many Glacier ranger station by today?”
Wyatt nodded. “Barring disaster or injury, it’s easily a day’s hike.”
Vic glanced at his watch. “From all accounts, those hikers have been missing going on thirty-six hours now. Shouldn’t that mean that whoever is headed south would have reached the station by now?”
“Hard to say,” Wyatt said.
“Not hard to say.” Maggie crossed her arms over her chest. “Did they find sign of injury? Blood? Anything?”
“No—nothing amiss other than the body you found.”
Which meant that either the party on the trail had gotten lost or met with something terrible. Vic sighed. He needed coffee and to get moving. It was the only solution, because if he held still for too long, he’d crash. When he was in his twenties, going for days on end with minimum sleep was barely a hiccup, but these days, the frenetic cases took a lot more out of him. The hike combined with tossing and turning in an uncomfortable hotel bed while thinking of Maggie hadn’t done him any favors.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and pushed his tiredness away. “And the other trails?” Maybe if the unsub had started tracking the easiest prey—the ones who kept to the trail—the others had escaped his hunting them.
For now, at least.
“One leads west, though the pair of rangers there are having a hell of a time tracking whoever it is. They keep zigzagging across Kootenai Creek,” Wyatt said.
“Dangerous,” Maggie murmured. “But smart if they think they’re being hunted.”
“It’s our people hunting them.”
“Maybe they don’t know that.” There wasn’t an easy answer there. If those hikers saw Bill Haglund’s body and thought his killer was after them, they weren’t just going to trust some stranger who appeared in the woods. “Are the SAR folk wearing some kind of uniform?”
“Some are.”
Which meant some weren’t—all the more reason for whoever it was to be cautious. “Damn.”
“Final trail leads east, but it went cold a few hundred feet in.” Wyatt sat back in his chair. “I have rangers coming up from Many Glacier, but the majority of our folk are after the other two sets of people. There isn’t an easy answer here, and I don’t like that this group split. They’d have had a better chance if they stuck together.”
Or they would have made a bigger target for the unsub. “Are you still doing flyovers?” Vic asked.
“We were before the storm made it too dangerous.” As if on cue, thunder boomed, nearly making the room shake.
Vic nodded, because there wasn’t anything else to do. Wyatt was right about hauling them out into the park being too dangerous right now. There were no new crime scenes to work or bodies to examine, so he would just be another set of boots on the ground. Not a bad thing, but also not where his area of expertise ran. “When’s the weather supposed to break?”
“Late tonight.” Wyatt stood as well. “We should be able to get you out early tomorrow—and hopefully I’ll have some good news by then.”
None of them commented on the fact that good news seemed to be in short supply with this case, or the very real danger the rescuers were in, both from the unsub and from the storm itself.
Vic followed Maggie out of Wyatt’s office. The rest of the building was nearly empty, only a single ranger working the radio and the phone. He nodded to Maggie, and she nodded back, but she didn’t stop to chat. The rain started to fall as they walked through the door, heavy sheets that obscured anything farther than ten feet away. He stopped just beneath the overhang. “Could be that the storm will slow him down the same way it’ll slow down the rest of them.”
“Maybe.” She didn’t ask whom he meant. There was only one he right now. “Or it could be that he’s better prepared than both the rescuers and missing hikers are.”
“Say he’s as experienced as he seems—what would someone who’s not a murderer do in this situation?”
“Find shelter and ride it out. The rock out here isn’t granite—it’s sedimented—so it can crumble beneath a person even if it looks solid. The rain makes that far more likely. Not to mention the potential for flash floods and slippery rocks and . . .” She nodded, her dark eyes losing some of their fury. “I see your point. He’s in this for his kills, but he’s not going to risk his life for it.” Maggie looked to the sky, now a gray so dark it was nearly black. “Storm like this, you can walk right by a person and not realize they’re there. Unsub probably knows that. If he has some kind of permanent shelter close by—and if he killed the Haglunds for the reason you suspect, that supports this theory—he’ll be there. He doesn’t, he’s probably capable enough to find a hidey-hole until the worst of it passes.”
Which meant they’d all been granted something of a reprieve. Everyone who could find shelter would do so until the storm passed, so they might as well head back to Kalispell and help out with Tucker’s part of the investigation. “Only one real downside to this.”
“The missing hikers.” She nodded, her quick mind already grasping where he was headed. “Right now, they’re in a lot more danger from the park than from the unsub.”