“She probably wasn’t using just her bike to go grocery shopping,” Alex said dryly. His brain was trying to absorb Jim’s story.

His mental hard drive was struggling to process all the data. How could someone do that to their kid?

“She had perfect grades in high school. Valedictorian. Full ride to college. Could have picked any school, but wanted to stay in Oregon and do nursing. Said she didn’t want to be too far from Anna’s parents. By the end of high school, she was a true member of that family. Anna has three brothers and one sister, all older. They gave Brynn the big family she’d always wanted.

“But Brynn’s got a pretty bad track record when it comes to men. I think her upbringing gave her a slightly distorted view of marriage. Most men she dates have walked all over her, and they’ve all been older than her. She seems to lean toward older men.” Jim looked at him sideways.

A touch of relief went through his head. Maybe he wasn’t too old in her eyes. But he didn’t want to be a father figure. Alex scowled.

“Liam is closer to her age and treats her like a queen.”

“I don’t see a ring on her finger.”

“Liam says it’s just a matter of time. They’re already talking about getting pregnant.”

“She might be pregnant?” Alex’s toe caught in the snow and he tripped again, barely catching his balance.

“She says she’s not.”

“Jesus, you asked her? You outright asked her if she’s pregnant? When?”

Jim looked uncomfortable. “Day before yesterday. I wasn’t going to let her come on this mission if she was pregnant.”

Alex studied his face. “I bet that conversation went well.”

“I think she was about to skin me. I’m glad she doesn’t carry a gun.”

They were walking just inside the tree line, moving quietly from tree to tree as they talked. Jim cut off the conversation as they drew within a hundred feet of the cockpit. Alex continuously scanned the area, seeking any movement. He didn’t like the constant prickle in his spine. He couldn’t see a reason for it. The avalanche had slammed the cockpit against a bank of firs and covered two-thirds of the metal. Alex couldn’t make out where Jim and Thomas had dug their way in yesterday. The men had hoped to find some extra supplies. Flashlights or tarps or even something to eat, but they found nothing.

Had someone beaten them to it?

The snow turned everything an innocent white. But tension hung in the air around the cockpit. Maybe it was simply from knowing there were two dead men still sitting in their seats and a third laid out on the floor. They’d argued about putting the men in better positions. Courtesy to the remains of a fellow human. But the pilot’s legs were horribly mangled in with the wreckage. Getting him loose would have been a messy chore. They’d reluctantly decided to leave them as they were.

Jim motioned Alex behind him and took the lead as they neared the plane. Alex wanted to argue, but he let him lead. He was part of Jim’s team, and Jim had impressed him several times with his leadership skills. And Jim was a cop. Not unemployed, former law enforcement like Alex.

The path Jim and Thomas had made yesterday was gone, buried in the fresh snow. Alex strained his eyes trying to see a new path made by different feet that had entered or left the plane. Blue shadows were everywhere in the snow, making him see footprints where there were none. His breathing seemed too loud in the quiet Christmas card setting; inside his head he sounded like a train struggling to make it up a long, steep hill.

Jim looked over his shoulder. Alex nodded and stepped to cover Jim as he turned the corner and pointed his gun into the open back of the cockpit. Every fiber of Alex’s being strained to hear. The inside of the cockpit was silent. Jim motioned him in. The two men studied the interior. Linus was still stretched out on the floor where Jim and Thomas had placed him yesterday after he’d been tossed out by the avalanche.

“Has anything been moved?” Alex asked.

Jim continued to examine the inside, his gaze constantly moving and sweeping. “I can’t tell. The wind’s blown some snow in. But I would think there would be more. You know how windy it got last night.”

Alex nodded. Three-quarters of the ripped entry to the cockpit was blocked by a bank of snow. It had been totally blocked until Jim and Thomas dug it out. His neck prickled again and he swung around, his gaze tracking the tree line.

Nothing.

“Fuck this. There’s no one here. There wasn’t anyone here last night. If Besand was on that plane—” Jim started to say.

“He was on it. He took Linus’s gun.”

“Well he’s gone now. He left before we got here yesterday. And unless he found a tent or tarp to sleep in overnight, we’re going to stumble across a human Popsicle on our way out. More likely a hunter or hiker will find him this summer.” Jim kicked at the snow. “Let’s get back and get packed. We need to head out too.”

“You think Ryan is ready?”

Jim frowned. “He seemed better last night. I’ll see how he feels this morning.” A myriad of emotions flickered on Jim’s face. Concern, determination, and exhaustion. “One more thing.”

“Yeah?”

“Brynn still believes you’re a marshal.”

Alex didn’t say anything.

“She might suspect something though. I nearly told her.”

“I’ll tell her.” Alex had never felt the loss of his job so keenly as at this exact moment. He had nothing but an inner burn to stand face-to-face with his brother’s killer.