The man said nothing.

“Maybe you could help me with that?”

“Try directory assistance.”

“Could be unlisted. Makes it tough to call.”

“People do that for a reason.”

“Does Annaliese live here?”

“I’m thinking if the lady wanted you to have her address, she’d have shared it.”

“Do you know Annaliese?”

“One thing I’m certain, I don’t know you.”

I loosened the final tangle and freed my feet. As I stood, the man gathered the cords around one hand in even-sized loops.

“ID.”

“What?” Shit.

“Driver’s license? Medicare card? Something with a photo.”

“I have nothing with me.”

“I get a complaint that someone’s peeping windows on Ragged Ass Road. I come out and find you nose to the glass. Now you tell me you got no ID.”

“I’m staying at the Explorer. I wasn’t planning to leave the hotel.”

“Yet here you are.”

“My name is Temperance Brennan. I’m a forensic anthropologist.” Teeth chattering. “I am in Yellowknife on official police business.”

“And that business would involve spying on unsuspecting citizens?”

Though I hadn’t a clue who this guy was, I had no choice. And I was freezing. I gave a modified version. Ollie. Ryan. The possible threat to Annaliese Ruben from Ronnie Scarborough.

The man listened, expression neutral.

“I have my mobile. We can phone Detective Ryan or Sergeant Hasty. Or Sergeant Rainwater. He’s with G Division. RCMP. Here. In Yellowknife.”

Realizing I was babbling and seeing no objection, I dug my iPhone from my pocket and pushed the power button with a trembling thumb.

Nothing.

I tried again.

And again.

No amount of tapping or shaking brought the screen to life.

Shit. Shit.

I looked up. The man’s face was still unreadable.

“It’s dead.”

No response.

“It must have gotten wet in the koi pond.”

Eyes hard on me, the man pulled a cell from his belt and hit speed dial. “Zeb Chalker. Is Rainwater there?”

Pause.

“Living the life. You know a K Division guy name of Oliver Hasty?”

Pause.

“Why’s he in town?”

Long pause.

“Hasty traveling alone?”

Pause.

“Marsí.”

Chalker reclipped the cell to his belt, crossed his arms, and regarded me a very long time. Finally, “Here’s the deal. You get yourself back to the Explorer. Going forward, you stick with your pals. Got it?”

Chalker’s attitude irritated the hell out of me. Who was he to give orders? But I wanted nothing more than to return to my room and take a very hot shower. And I was in no position to object.

I nodded.

Without another word, Chalker strode off.

“Don’t worry about me,” I muttered to his retreating back. “I’ll flag a taxi.”