get to the parking lot at Bear Lake until . I realized it was just as it had been for my deserted. The, lake was frozen and the temperature was dropping quickly. The sky was already purple and going dark. It wasn't much of a draw for locals or tourists this late in the day.

As I drove through the lot I thought about why he had picked this place to come. As far as I knew it had nothing to do with the Lofton case. But I thought I knew why. I parked where he had parked and just sat there thinking.

There was a light on in the ceiling of the overhang above the front of the ranger shack. I decided to get out and see if Pena, the witness, was there. Then another thought Struck me. I slid over to the passenger side of the Tempo. I took a couple of deep breaths, then opened the door and started running for the woods where they grew closest to the car.

As I ran I counted by thousands out loud. I was at eleven thousand by the time I had gotten over the snowbank and reached the cover. Standing there in the woods, a foot deep in snow without -boots on, I bent over and put my hands on my knees as I caught my breath. There was no way a shooter could have gotten into the woods to hide if Pena had been out of the shack as quickly as he had reported. I finally stopped gulp ting the air and headed toward the ranger's shack, debating how to approach him. As a reporter or a brother?

It was Pena behind the window. I could see the nameplate on his uniform. He was locking a desk when I looked through the window. He was calling it a day.

"Can I help you, sir? I'm closing up."

"Yes, I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions."

He came out, eyeing me suspiciously because I obviously wasn't dressed for a hike in the snow. I had on jeans and Reeboks, a corduroy shirt beneath a thick woolen sweater. I had left my long coat in the car and I was very cold.

"My name is Jack McEvoy."

I waited a moment to see if it registered. It didn't. He had probably only seen the name written in reports he had to sign, or in the newspaper. Its pronunciation-Mac-a-voydidn't jibe with its spelling.

"My brother ... he was the one you found a couple weeks ago."

I pointed toward the lot.

"Oh," he said, understanding. "In the car. The officer."

"Uh, I've been with the poice all day, looking at the reports and stuff. I just wanted to come out and take a look.

It's hard, you know ... to accept it."

He nodded and tried to hide a quick glance at his watch.

"I just have a few quick questions. You were inside there when you heard it? The shot?"