Angus turned to examine one more time the place the victim had been. He looked up as Jethro descended the embankment. The bridge caught his attention. Swirls and lines. Gang tags. He recognized a couple, and then the muscles down his back tensed. “Nari.” He grasped her arm to turn her toward a concrete piling. “What do you see?”

She turned and squinted, tiling her head. “Is that a dog?”

“Yeah.” The outline of a German shepherd was barely discernible, laid over several gang monikers. He moved forward, squinting as the sun went down. “Ah, crap.” Lifting his phone, he pressed Redial.

“I told you not to call me,” Tate said by way of greeting.

“You’re gonna want to get down here.” Angus leaned closer to the painted message. “I found the note.”

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

Dinner had been a quiet affair with the team before everyone left. Exhausted, Nari had gone to bed and snuggled down. The cabin was warm, even a little steamy, with the rain continuing outside. So she’d worn a pink cami with matching shorts. It was more than warm enough, yet she couldn’t sleep. Her body hurt, her mind ran too fast, and electricity arced between her and Angus.

They were in bed together. Again. The memories of what Angus could do in bed made her restless. And needy.

Several hours later, after listening interminably to the fire crackle, she couldn’t take it anymore. The man in the bed with her was too quiet. “Are you sleeping?” she whispered, turning on her side to face Angus.

“No.”

She hadn’t thought so. “Are you still trying to figure out what that phrase means?”

“No.” He stretched, and the firelight licked along the smooth muscles of his arm. “Jethro will figure it out tomorrow.”

She sighed. Jethro hadn’t returned to the cabin with them, saying he had a meeting at the college. “You’re not sleeping, which means the case is on your mind. Right?”

“Yeah.” He turned to face her, mumbling the quotation they’d found painted inside the dog outline. “The forest watches, the darkness knows, the time is coming—can you feel the change?” He levered himself up on one arm. “It sounds kind of dumb, if you want the truth. I’m more interested in the outline of the dog’s face and the symbols scratched into the rock beneath it.”

Her breath quickened. It was totally inappropriate right now, but with all that powerful muscle so close, she had to force her brain to stay on track. “The symbols might’ve been left by the gangs.”

“Maybe,” Angus allowed.

Roscoe snored softly at the edge of the bed.

Angus studied her, his eyes blazing through the soft light. Tension rolled from him, thick with lust. “Um.”