Brilliant. Ryan would probably propose my name for the detective’s exam.

I poked at the brown thing. Which, at one point in its life, may have been vegetable.

A different waitress appeared and, with a lot of rattling and clanging, resumed preparation of the breakfast spread.

I lifted my mug to drain the last of my coffee. My arm stopped in midair.

Nellie had said it was her job to organize the buffet. Only then could she leave.

So where was she?

After jotting my name, room number, and signature on the check, I bolted for the lobby.

Nellie was hurrying through the front door.

Call Ryan? Ollie?

Nellie was fast disappearing down the circle drive.

I scurried after her.

Chapter 18

MORNING MIST THICK AS GRAN’S FATBACK GRAVY SWIRLED IN the glow of the hotel sign. Though the sun had never totally yielded the night sky, it had yet to get organized for another dawn.

In other words, visibility sucked.

But the advantage in elevation worked in my favor. While Nellie’s torso was shrouded in a puffy gray jacket that blended with the fog, her bright red skirt was easy to spot. As I left the cover of the portico, the scarlet beacon was disappearing around the curve of the drive.

I hurried down the walk. Though I doubted Nellie would notice a tail, I kept to the inside of the arc for cover. I’d descended halfway when my quarry vanished. I kicked up the pace. At the bottom of the hill, I looked left and then right. The red skirt was swishing along Veterans Memorial Drive, which, at this hour, was largely deserted.

I made the turn, already regretting my decision to sally forth sans outerwear. Vapor puffed from my lips each time I exhaled.

Downtown Yellowknife has the look and feel of a movie set trucked in and assembled quickly. Think Northern Exposure, but ramp up the number of bars, eateries, shops, and nondescript office and government buildings.

I followed Nellie to Fiftieth Street, moving as fast as possible to generate body heat but slowly enough to keep some distance between us. Which wasn’t hard. Despite her short legs and considerable bulk, the woman was booking.

Yellowknife is similar to Charlotte with regard to street names. Shortly, Fiftieth Street met Fiftieth Avenue. Very creative.

Nellie trundled through the intersection without waiting for a green. To avoid detection, I hung back a few moments, then crossed and ducked into a recess at the front of a souvenir shop.

A half block below Fiftieth Street, I could make out a long orange awning spanning the front of a three-story building that had seen better days. A lot of them. Lettering on the awning and the second-floor stucco identified the place as the Gold Range Hotel. Without hesitating, Nellie pulled open the front door and slipped inside.