Wolfe nodded. “Also, I talked to Brigid, and she looked over that mail you got from the ex-boyfriend of the first victim. As you noticed, the dog pamphlets didn’t go through the mail, but there’s nothing there. Just a hint to mess with you.”

“Okay,” Angus said, standing still as he looked at a picture of a blond woman to the right on the murder board. The one who smiled so brightly at the camera and had Angus’s eyes. “I’d rather have a smaller number of targets for this guy.” His jaw hardened and his shoulders went back. “Everyone get settled, and I’ll be back inside in a moment. Just want to double-check the perimeter.” He turned abruptly on his boot and strode outside.

Nari watched him go, her instincts flaring. Roscoe yipped. She faltered and started for the doorway.

“No. Let me.” Wolfe stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Finish your breakfast.” He grabbed his and Angus’s lattes and strode out the door.

Nari’s stomach lurched. Everyone had a breaking point. With a serial killer after them, possibly the same one who’d taken his sister, was Angus nearing his?

* * *

Angus couldn’t breathe. His body flared as if fire ants swarmed beneath his skin, and every joint protested. He hurried into the rain, toward the forest, and let the cool water wash over his face. Navigating a barely there trail, he reached the trunk of a tamarack and leaned against it, partially bending over to gulp in air.

“Panic attacks suck.”

Angus jerked and lifted his head to find Wolfe on the trail, lattes in both hands. His eyes were direct and serious.

“Go away, Wolfe. Just give me a minute,” Angus gasped.

“Nah.” Wolfe loped toward him, handing over a latte. “We need to talk, and you could use some sugar and caffeine. Sit and drink.”

Angus’s neck prickled. “No. Go inside.”

“Sit or I’ll put you on your ass.” Wolfe smiled, and the sight wasn’t friendly. “Sure, it’d be a good fight, but you’re injured from the crash yesterday and in the midst of a panic attack. We’d end up on the ground, regardless.”

Whatever. Angus dropped to his butt, letting the surrounding fir trees provide protection from the rain. “I would’ve won,” he grumbled, his lungs filling finally.

“Sure.” Wolfe sat across the trail against the trunk of a spruce tree, stirring wet pine needles as he did so. He extended his legs and crossed his ankles next to Angus’s thigh. “So.”

Angus took a deep gulp of the coffee and instantly regretted it. He licked sprinkles from his lips. “I’m fine. Just needed a minute.”

“Minutes are all we got.” Wolfe drank his coffee.