“. . . you’ll return here for lunch. And be sure you fill up those water bottles you received in your welcome bags. As refreshing as the ponds and streams look, you can’t drink the water. Beavers live in the pond and the water is full of giardia, a parasite. We’ll assemble outside in”—he glanced at his watch—“twenty minutes.”

Everyone rose and funneled out to head to their cabins.

The raccoon had been removed, and the dogs were sprawled across my cabin’s small porch. Maverick took up most of the space, with Holly staking out a spot in the corner. The dogs stood at my arrival and trailed me into the room. I dropped off the book, found the water bottle and filled it, then attached it to my belt by the carabiner. Grabbing a lightweight jacket, I looked around the room. My neck tingled slightly. I didn’t like the idea of leaving my things in an unlocked cabin and going for a long hike. Roy may have felt everyone was honest at the ranch, but the condition of the art room proved him wrong. That room, at least, would now be locked.

I tucked my wallet and the letters from Scott Thomas and Roy inside my Mule Shoe bag. Shadow Woman’s drawings were still there.

I checked my watch. Still time to do a little work. Opening a notebook, I started a new page on what I’d learned and seen, along with questions I needed to follow up on. It seemed strange to use a pen and paper rather than my laptop. Once again I went over the materials from Roy—insurance statements, letters from guests, a timeline of events, employee information, and resort reservations. The problems seemed to start in the spring with a wrongful-death lawsuit over a hiking accident. Insurance claims for water damage, electrical problems in the staff building, and injuries from a horseback riding incident followed. A letter from the insurance carrier noted they would no longer cover the team-building activities, and any more claims would result in their dropping Mule Shoe entirely. The final set of papers were various offers, dating back to the first of the year, to purchase Mule Shoe. The offers came from a variety of real estate agencies and appeared to be generous at first, but considerably lower after the lawsuit and accidents. That did raise the possibility of deliberate sabotage, in which case I’d need to find out who wanted to buy the resort.

I closed the notebook, removed Shadow Woman’s drawings from my bag, moved to the table, and spread out the artwork. There were eight drawings, all well rendered and dated.

The drawings the clerk had placed into the old phone book were a portrait of Sam and a rather odd sketch of two men standing on what looked like a cloud with two lines coming out at the bottom.