“And his father died, and he has no friends,” Teresa said in a sing-song voice. She took a step closer and lifted her chin to look him in the eye. “I don’t give a damn if you think that means he can’t be the man we’re looking for. I don’t give a damn if you’re incompetent. But don’t try to derail my investigation again.”

Knauss seemed to have stopped breathing.

“I never tried to derail it,” he said.

Teresa did not move a millimeter from where she stood.

“If you withhold any information ever again, or so much as put a foot wrong, I swear I’ll kick you off the case.”

-46-

-46-

There was no sound left in the world except for the subdued crackle of fresh snow falling over the old. The night had transformed those early, timid flakes into a silent blizzard. It was a formidable winter. The forest was an expanse of crystal, of creatures curled up in cozy lairs, and tree branches weighed down with a heavy whiteness they would periodically shrug off, bending all the way to the ground as they did so. A few animals were still out in search of food, their eyes gleaming in the darkness, their coats white, shards of ice sticking to their whiskers, and steam blowing from their nostrils.

From his hiding place at the foot of a centennial fir tree, he observed the forest, hugging himself for warmth, biding his time.

He was hunting for a prey he’d been stalking for weeks. He had studied its habits, its routes, its encounters with its own kin. He knew that sooner or later that night, it would pass by that spot, and he had readied his welcome accordingly. His prey was a creature of habit; even the blizzard wouldn’t change its plans.

He soon saw it approaching. The lights of the metallic vehicle on which it travelled cut into the depths of the forest, and as they came around the first bend of the road, they briefly illuminated his hideout.

He got up to follow, bending low into the undergrowth as he walked. The vehicle made slow progress. The darkness had caught it out on a particularly insidious stretch where the mountain was at its harshest, and the ice so thick that it wouldn’t melt until spring. The vehicle scrambled and lurched forward, spreading pungent fumes into the air.

His prey was nervous. He could tell even from that distance by the tension in its face. Its sunken eyes were narrowed in an attempt to recover their focus. Its lips looked as if they were being pulled into its mouth. It was agitated, and probably also scared. This was his kingdom, and his prey felt out of place in it. It was already trapped.