She grabbed his arm and managed to turn him toward their truck.

And wouldn’t you know it, right then—like a spark to a fire—Ray Kelly appeared. He wore a grimy down jacket, a wool hat, and a beard, like he belonged in the bush.

“Hey, Adams,” Ray said, smirking. Her dad bristled.

Adams, as in Grizzly Adams from the old television show from the ’80s. Apparently the main character had a pet bear.

So what? Bears had been known to be tamed from the days of the Wild West shows. It happened. Get over it.

Besides, she knew for a fact that Ray was from Idaho. Or had been. He’d arrived, a cheechako, three years ago. She couldn’t prove it, but she’d bet he hadn’t survived one full winter here, just south of Denali State Park, in the wilds north of Anchorage.

Which meant that any Alaskan hunting guide license he possessed was a fake. But she hadn’t dug, and her dad couldn’t prove his words. She needed to get him away before things really got ugly.

“Get in the truck, Charlie,” Hank said.

“She might have cubs, Hank,” her dad said, but he kept walking toward the truck. “It’s too early for them to leave their mother.”

He climbed in and closed the door.

She put her hand on the driver’s door handle.

Aw, shoot. Her dad was right. She walked over to Hank, who was now examining the carcass while Ray-slash-Idaho told him where they’d bagged it. He claimed they’d spotted the sow in 16a, a section a hundred or so miles west, very near the border of Peters Creek. “We were hunting moose, and the bear just came out of nowhere—”

Idaho pointedly cut off when Echo stepped up to Hank. “Listen. It’s one of Elsa’s cubs. Not a yearling but maybe three years old. She’s been tagged, so we can track her movements and get a fix on where she’s been and try to lock down what happened. She doesn’t look like she’s given birth—her teats aren’t swollen. But, if you want to take a look, we can return to the place of the kill—her cubs, if any, would probably be nearby.”

Hank pulled her aside. “If they’re still alive. Cubs that young would be easy prey. That’s wolf country.”

She glanced at her father, who was staring hard at her from inside the truck. She’d give him about ten seconds before he got out and tapped back in.

“If I need a guide, you’re my first call, Echo.” Hank nodded at her dad. “By the way, I’ll smooth things over with the hunter, but get him home before things get out of hand and we have to call Deke.”