Gianna’s gaze halted on the burned cabin. Would someone hide in there?

Are we being watched?

The broken vehicle window simply made her sigh. There had been nothing to steal out of her old Suburban and there was nothing she could do about the damage right now.

“Maybe they were desperate. Perhaps their vehicle’s snowed in and they needed to get to town.” She scrambled to find a possible explanation for the broken window. One that didn’t alarm her. “I don’t know why the Suburban won’t start.”

“No one’s driving this out of here even if it would start. You wouldn’t get past the first turn in the road. The snow’s too deep. This was done by a jerk who was looking for something to steal.”

“Well, all they found was an owner’s manual. And my grocery bags.”

“I wonder what direction they came from.” Frisco gestured at the tracks Chris, Violet, and Gianna had made the previous morning. “I saw that path when I was here earlier.” Then he pointed at the far-off path that led east. “Is that the track you guys spotted when you left?”

“Yes, we made the ones that head west,” Gianna said. “But there’re definitely more prints now than when we left. Think he . . . or they . . . could be in the cabin?” she asked in a low voice.

Frisco looked in the cabin’s direction. “Hello!” he shouted, making Gianna jump. “I’m with the forest service! Does anyone need help?”

They waited. His shouted words were swallowed up by the woods and snow. They didn’t echo. They simply vanished.

“Anyone here?” he shouted.

Silence.

Frisco shrugged. “Either they don’t want to be found or they took off after breaking your window.”

Gianna felt as if a dozen eyes watched her from the woods, but she turned her attention back to her sad vehicle.

“Let me look in the truck first.” Frisco peeked through the windows, checking the back row of seats and the cargo area. “All clear.”

The vehicle was nearly ten years old but ran like new. It’d acquired a few extra squeaks and rattles since she’d first bought it, but it’d had no real problems until it had refused to start for Violet last night. “Are those marks from your snowmobile?” Gianna pointed at distinctive grooves in the snow and stepped carefully over to her vehicle.

“Yep. That’s where I turned when I came by earlier. And those are my tracks where I walked over to your vehicle. You were smart to leave it unlocked for me to find the note.” He winced and gave her an apologetic look. “I locked the doors after I found it. Maybe they wouldn’t have broken the window if I’d left it unlocked.”

“You did the right thing.” She sighed. “Wish I had some duct tape and plastic, but it’s not a priority right now.” She eyed the cabin again, curious about what might be inside.

Frisco slipped a small camera out of his pocket. “I’ll take some pictures before we make any new paths.”

“Good idea.” Gianna was a fan of as many pictures as possible when it came to collecting evidence. She’d testified in court several times and had found photographic evidence could be the determining factor when life insurance companies fought against claims. She’d seen a routinely snapped autopsy photo win a case for a mother with four young children after the death of her husband. Frisco took pictures of her truck’s window and the jumbled mess of deep footprints in the snow. He slowly expanded his range of shots, taking some far images of the cabin and then focusing on the path that’d been forged between the vehicle and cabin. Gianna followed as he moved closer to the cabin. She inhaled through her nose, searching for the odor that had convinced Chris someone had burned inside. She smelled only burned wood.

The mystery path traveled east from the cabin and away into the woods. Frisco took some close-up images of the prints in the snow, and from the cabin’s small porch he took a few of the path. He yelled again, asking if anyone needed help. Silence. “Let’s see if it looks safe to step inside for a few minutes.”

Gianna was ready. She hadn’t worked in a few weeks and the familiar excitement climbed up her spine, as it did when she received her daily assignments in the morgue. She’d been unable to get the possibility of a death in the cabin out of her mind ever since Chris had mentioned the smell. A puzzle to solve. She put her hand on the door handle and turned it, giving the door a push. It stuck.

“Let me try.” Frisco stepped forward as she moved back out of his way.

He turned the handle and pushed against the door with his shoulder. It flew open and ash billowed up from the floor.

Gianna’s heart dropped as she took in the blackened interior. “Ohhhh.”

We’re lucky to be alive.

The odor of death slapped her in the face. Burned death. It was unmistakable. A combination of barbecue and sewer. Chris hadn’t been wrong.

“Dear Lord,” muttered Frisco. “He wasn’t kidding.” He blocked Gianna as she tried to move past him. “Hang on a second.”

She stopped and took another look at the ceiling. Large pieces of roof hung from the burned holes.

“Someone’s walked in here since the fire.” Frisco pointed. “Look at the footprints. Is that from you guys?”

Gianna studied the large prints that led toward the back of the room. “Chris went back in to grab my boots. I don’t think he walked that far. My boots were right by the door and he didn’t want to be inside any longer than necessary.” Dread crept up her spine.