Bram picked one up. “What are these?”

“My graduation present from Clan Firinn. I’m pretty sure they represent the final burdens I carry. Or maybe my David’s ammunition against the Goliath hurdles I still have.” I’d so glibly suggested Bram and Wyatt sacrifice themselves by going for help while I was thinking about staying here. The words swarmed in my brain. Be strong and courageous! Do not be afraid or discouraged. For the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.

I looked across the table at Bram. “Do you believe in God?”

Bram’s eyes widened and he straightened. “Of course. Don’t you?”

“Maybe I need to find out. I’ll be the third rider.”

“But . . .”

I glared at him.

“Um . . . we can talk about it more in the morning. Maybe you should get some sleep.”

“I can’t sleep. Not just yet.” I returned two of the stones to my pockets, picked up the third rock and threw it into the trash, then pointed to his messenger bag. “Let me see those arson notes.”

Chapter 19

Bram handed the notes to me. “I appreciate you taking a look.”

“I’m afraid that’s about all I can do.” I stacked the notes neatly in front of me. “Didn’t you tell me that two men died in one of the arson fires?”

“Yes, a double homicide.”

“But none of the other cases involved the loss of life.”

“Right.”

I nodded and bent over the notes. “Could I borrow some paper?”

He handed me several sheets. “Coffee?”

“Love some.”

Bram pushed back his chair, stood, and walked to the kitchen.

I’d lost my computer, with the programs I used, over the cliff. I wouldn’t be able to do a comprehensive report, but I could certainly give Bram, or whoever followed up, a starting point. The lodge continued to settle into a creaking quietness with pings and groans from the metal roof as the night air cooled it. I had no idea how much time had passed when Bram appeared with a steaming cup of freshly brewed coffee.

“Thank you.” I took the cup. “How did you make coffee without electricity?”

“Gas stove, old percolator pot, Eagle Scout training.” He sat. “How’s it going?”

“I’m just about as far as I can go without my computer.”

“So how do you make the comparisons?”

“I look for style markers and linguistic variations. The unconscious choices a writer makes.”

“For example?” Holly had crept closer and leaned against Bram’s leg. He absently reached down and scratched her ear.

“Hmm. A writer can phrase the same object-clause elements in a sentence differently. For example, I can phrase this idea three ways.” I held up my cup. “You brought me this cup of coffee. You brought this cup of coffee to me. You brought to me this cup of coffee.”

“Sounds complicated.”