I dismounted and led the horse forward, staring at the ground. Dog footprints showed where the two had run. I moved forward, step by step, approaching the granite wall. When I reached it, I ran my hand over the warm beige surface. The wall ended. My hand slipped around to a narrow opening behind the large slab. Because of the uniform color, the space was all but invisible. I led the horse through, the stirrups scraping against the stone. We emerged on the other side.

A low hunter’s shack was tucked into the hillside. Beside the shack was a shed with an overhang to form a covered area for feeding livestock. Currently a very content mule was thinning out the hay supply. A small stream burbled nearby.

The dogs greeted me with mouths wide open in doggy smiles.

I had no doubt in my mind. I’d found Shadow Woman’s dwelling.

*  *  *

Bram started limping toward Mule Shoe. There was always a chance his horse would stop and graze, allowing him to capture her, or Liam would notice he was alone, but he wasn’t counting on either possibility. Hoofprints from their ride out were easy enough to follow.

Even though he was unarmed, returning to Mule Shoe did give him the element of surprise. He could find a vantage where he could see most of the resort. Whoever was out there would be focused on the lodge . . . unless . . . unless the killer had followed one of the three riders. Or there were two of them. If he could easily see the evidence of his passing on the ground, so could anyone else.

The thought slowed his pace. How far behind would the killer be? Could he find himself face-to-face with the stranger?

A branch snapped to his left.

He froze, then slipped behind a tree and listened. He caught the shuuuuush of wind through the pines. The chatter of a chipmunk. The stench of a wet dog.

A large black bear sauntered next to a tree, stood on his hind legs and scratched the bark, then dropped to all fours and rubbed his back.

Bram remained motionless.

The bear stopped and sniffed the air.

Bram couldn’t tell which way the breeze was blowing. At least it was a black bear, considerably less dangerous than a grizzly.

He looked at his watch. By now, anyone following him would have shown up. At least he didn’t have to worry about running into an armed killer.

As the bear wandered off, Bram continued his trek to the ranch. If nothing else, he could formulate a plan of action.

*  *  *