If the partnership with Cross had changed his life—and he’d been all over the world with Cross and his man Digger, who’d become his mentor—it was Cyrus Beck who had given Ice purpose. By the time Cross got tripped up by kiddie porn, Ice was freelancing. He’d learned how to speak fluent Spanish, and he’d become a master at procuring women and girls for Cross’s vast network. Cross had even created a new identity for Ice, complete with a forged driver’s license and a bank account.

Cross’s arrest and subsequent death had rocked him hard. Ice couldn’t figure out how the canny Cross had let it slip that he had so much kiddie porn for the Feds to find. He believed someone had betrayed Cross, and it made him furious. At first, he’d wanted to find the leak, deal with the person who’d betrayed Cross. But then the Boss killed himself, and for a brief time, Ice was adrift.

Then Cyrus stepped in and saved Ice from aimlessness. Cyrus had been there the night Royal earned his chops and called Ice ever since, and Royal liked that.

He liked thinking of himself as cold as Ice. Nothing bothered him, and nothing could touch him. He believed he was smarter than any cop, especially a Fed.

His phone dinged with a text. Ice punched in his code and saw that Cyrus had texted him a brief message.

FBI Agent Bass recently traveled to Medford, southern Oregon, went private, so my bet is he’s hidden the girl there somewhere. Suggest you check it out.

Ice knew that Bass was the agent who’d made catching Cyrus his personal crusade. At one point Cyrus had played around with the idea of having Ice take Bass out, but at the last minute backed off. As Ice reread the text, he thought maybe Cyrus had made a mistake. Bass was like a pit bull, hanging on to Cyrus’s leg, desperate to take him down. It would be best to put Bass down first. The thought of killing an FBI agent didn’t bother Ice in the least.

He punched southern Oregon into Google and checked out Medford and the surrounding area. Small town, small potatoes. If the girl were there, it’d be a cinch to find her. Another text came through: Maybe Shady Cove?

“Hmm, is that a town?” Ice asked out loud.

He typed, Why there?

Then he put that name into his search and found it. A check of Wikipedia told him that Shady Cove, Oregon, was a dinky place, population just over three thousand. A recent news article from another nearby small town, Rogue’s Hollow, indicated the area had been devastated by a fire just days ago.