That meant someone killed the man while they were living together in Connor’s cabin. “And he’s just been out there, in the woods. All alone.”

“Damn.” Connor shoved his chair away from the table and took a long breath.

“You okay?” Ben asked.

“I’m not great with blood.”

Ben frowned at him. “It’s been hours.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not great with dead bodies either, I guess.”

Maddie knew Connor’s reaction was about more than the man in the woods. This reached back into his memories and his frustrations. Not that he would fully admit it, but after knowing him only a short time she could see it. She wondered how his family missed the distress he was in.

She tried to change the subject. “Does this mean we’re about to see more police on Whitaker?”

Ben nodded. “I have to make some calls, but I suspect I’ll have some patrol and investigative help by tomorrow.”

“Who’s the guy?” Connor asked.

Ben didn’t check the file for that answer. “Owen Pritchard.”

Nothing about that sounded familiar to her. “Never heard of him.”

“Sylvia says he’s not registered at the Lodge. She’s never seen him either.”

Connor tapped his fingers against the table. “Dom.”

Whatever Ben had been about to say cut off and he focused on Connor. “Excuse me?”

“Maddie and I talked with him.” Connor glanced at her before continuing. “He talked about bringing someone over from Arnold Island a few times and that he thought the guy was still here. Probably in a rental.”

And now dead. That reality started churning deep inside Maddie. A fear everything would start spinning. Tilt until she’d be unable to straighten it again.

Ben nodded. “I’ll check with him and about the rental properties. Thanks.”

She tried to hold her questions in so she could analyze and prepare, but they came spilling out. “What was he doing out there? Other than the cabin, there’s trees but he was off the hiking trail and not really dressed for that anyway.”

“Well, that’s the interesting part,” Ben said.

Connor groaned. “I’m almost afraid of what you’ll say next.”

“One thing first.” Ben held up a hand as if to calm her racing thoughts. “Keep in mind that he could be a tourist. This could be innocent.”

“Well . . .” Connor drew out the word for a few extra seconds. “He was stabbed to death.”

Her mind had already jumped ahead. She could feel that Ben was about to drop some huge information bomb on them. “But?”

Ben stopped looking around the room and following the conversation and stared at her. “Owen Pritchard was a private investigator.”

And there it was. The expected fall. “What?”

“His driver’s license is from North Carolina. I did a quick check into his background and he’s from—”