“Let me tell you something, Constable Chalker. I was working crime scenes when you were still hoping for your big-boy shorts. The combined fucking genius of the RCMP and the SQ couldn’t find Annaliese Ruben. But I did.” I jammed a trembling thumb to my chest. “Ruben reached out to me. And some motherfucker put a slug through her skull!”

“We’re done here.”

Chalker brushed past me and strode out of the woods, his boots softly rustling the tangle of wet needles.

I turned to Ryan. “That guy has it in for me.”

“Let’s go,” he said gently.

“I’m not crazy.”

“I believe you.”

*  *  *

Back at the hotel, I stripped off my wet clothes, showered, and pulled on sweats. It was going on two, but my brain was wired on adrenaline and booze.

I was booting my laptop when I heard a knock.

As before, I hit the peephole.

Ryan was still wearing the jeans and sweatshirt. He held a flat square box in front of his chest. I opened the door. “Pizza?” he asked.

“With anchovies?”

“You’re finicky now?” Ryan’s brows floated up.

“A girl can’t be too picky.”

“No anchovies.”

“I accept.”

As we ate, I briefed Ryan on every detail I could remember, from Ruben’s call to my showing up at his room.

“How could someone launder a scene that effectively?” I was incredulous.

“The rain helped.”

“They moved fast.”

“Very.”

“Do you think Scar’s the doer?”

“I’m looking forward to asking him that.”

We each helped ourself to a second slice.

“You’ll make them put full effort into investigating Ruben’s murder?”

“I will.”

“Thank you.”

“Under one condition.”

I cocked a brow.

“You clear something up.”

I nodded.

“Who the hell is Trooper Murray?”

“What?” The question was not what I’d expected.

“You threw the name at Chalker.”

“I did?”

Ryan nodded.

“Trooper Stephen Murray of Lincoln, Maine. You’ve never seen the video of his traffic stop?”

Ryan shook his head.

“It’s been on Court TV, YouTube. The thing went viral. Murray’s been dubbed the most patient cop in America.”

Ryan reached for more pizza. Said nothing.

“Come on. Chalker’s long-suffering forbearance act didn’t make you want to puke?”

“The guy was doing his job.”

“The guy was acting like a supercilious ass,” I said.

“I doubt you’ll be topping his hit parade, either.”

We ate in silence awhile. It felt easy. Like old times.

Then I thought of something. “If Scar wanted to send a message saying he’s a badass, why take Ruben’s body? Why not leave her where she’ll be found?”

“Remember the gatecrasher from Jasper?”

“The guy with the collie?”

“Someone whacked him and his dog and hacked off their ears.”

I pictured Ruben’s face in the moonlight.

Something cold crawled my spine.

Chapter 27