Other businesses included the Evergreen Book Store and Thrift Shop, a grocery store attached to an Ace Hardware, a Family Dollar store, and a Speedway convenience store and gas station. For food, there was a pizza parlor, Jose’s Tacos, Josephine’s Espresso and Bakery, the Chamaya Café, the Buckhorn Bar and Grill, and the Franklin Family Diner.

A couple of motels sat along NM-17 at the edge of town, but Skye had booked one of the cabins at a place called the Antlers Lodge, which was west of town on Highway 84. Beekman’s phone continued to ping in that area. It was just a matter of tracking the signal down.

First, they wanted to get settled in.

Edge pulled up to the manager’s office. Skye went inside and got the key to their cabin, one of only five, from a grizzled old man named Charlie, who walked her back out to the truck and introduced himself.

“Nice to meet ya,” Charlie said to Edge through the rolled-down pickup window, his thin white hair wafting in the breeze. “You’re in cabin five. Best we got. It’s just down yonder.”

He pointed toward the wooden building at the end of the row, farthest away from the road. “Got nice views off the porch toward the mountains. Two bedrooms, so there’s plenty of room, and a wood-burning stove. Got a kitchen, fully equipped. If you need anything else, just come see me.”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” Edge said, still contemplating the fact Skye had booked a cabin with two bedrooms.

They unloaded their gear from the truck and went inside. The cabin was neat and clean, the kitchen compact but, as Charlie had said, fully operational. The sight of a coffeepot on the counter next to the sink was the best news yet.

“Let’s see if Zoe has any updates,” Edge said. “Then we’ll go to the grocery store and buy a couple days’ worth of supplies. If Zoe can find the exact location of Beekman’s cell, we can head out there tonight and take a look.”

“Sounds good.”

Edge watched her haul her carry-on into one of the bedrooms. It took every ounce of will not to follow, toss his canvas bag up on the bed in the same room. Instead, he stood in the doorway looking like a fool, hoping for an invitation that never came.

A disappointed breath whispered out. Turning, he carried his gear bag into the other bedroom, then returned to the living room.

“Decent place,” he said, surveying a dark brown sofa and chair with tan and burnt-orange throw pillows.

“Plenty of room to set up,” Skye said. They both had laptops, iPads, comms, and weaponry, including guns and tactical vests, and gear for colder weather. The altitude here was 7,800 feet, a high mountain valley surrounded by craggy, pine-covered peaks. The days were still warm, but the nights could drop into the twenties.