“Did you recognize him?” Chris asked almost soundlessly.

Gianna shook her head, but her mind raced. Do I know him? But can’t tell? She reached out and scrolled back to the first picture of the body, seeking something familiar. “I don’t think I know him,” she whispered back. She didn’t explain that his face was unrecognizable—Chris would know she was going by his clothing, his build, and what was left of his hair.

Again she searched the body for something to trigger a memory.

“We need to get to the police,” she said again.

Chris didn’t answer. He scrolled through more pictures of footprints in the ash on the cabin floor and then stopped at wintry photos that’d been clearly taken from the porch. A few shots focused on the mystery path Chris had spotted.

They were the final photos on the memory card.

He died seconds after taking those pictures.

Chris was still silent.

Violet asked, “How long were you there?”

“Not long,” admitted Gianna. “I wonder if we scared someone away from the cabin when we arrived.”

“And they shot at you to get you to leave? Maybe there’s something else in there they didn’t want you to see? So they won’t come here,” Violet stated firmly. “They just wanted you to go away.”

“I can’t put any weight in that theory, Violet. They murdered a ranger, there’s a dead body in the cabin, and they shot at your mother,” said Chris. “They have to assume we’ll tell someone about that.”

“Maybe the fire was also started to get us to leave,” added Violet. “I’m sure they know someone will come to investigate, but perhaps they just needed us gone for a little while . . . I don’t know why . . . but maybe they needed a window of time to do something over there without us present. You know . . . dig up the buried treasure under the floorboards. Or to get the body out of the cabin before anyone got a good look at him.”

Violet’s theory spun in Gianna’s brain as she picked it apart and studied it from every angle. She didn’t see a reason it couldn’t be true. A small sense of hope went through her. Maybe no one will follow us here.

A glance at Chris’s determined face told her he disagreed with what Violet had said.

And no way in hell would he let down his guard.

Gianna silently watched as Chris paced the cabin a few times and then turned to face her and Violet, a decision clear on his face. “We need to be prepared to leave at a moment’s notice. I want to get the truck ready and packed. If it looks feasible, we’ll go.”

She and Violet glanced at each other and then nodded at him.

Gianna followed Chris across the deep snow to the detached garage, struggling to balance the two snow shovels on her shoulders and stay upright as she stepped in his tracks. To call the building a garage was probably a compliment. It appeared to be a large, long shed on the verge of tipping over. As they drew closer, she saw that parts of the roof had been replaced and a series of solid locks placed on the vehicle-size door. The paint job looked like it’d been finished in 1970.

Chris constantly scanned their surroundings, the rifle in his hands. Gianna tried not to breathe too hard, worried he couldn’t hear the sounds of the forest over her pants as she followed him through the deep snow. Nonstop flurries had fallen for hours and now there was nearly another foot of powder on top of the ice crust. So much for their predicted weather warm-up.

Packing the food had been assigned to Violet. While listening to Chris’s directions to her daughter, Gianna had had the impression he was preparing for four nights in the woods instead of a simple drive out to the highway.

Nothing wrong with being overprepared.

Or else he believes we’re going to get stuck.

Chris worked on the series of locks, and Giana dug into the snowdrifts that were deep against the door. He finished the locks and plunged his shovel into the snow after carefully studying the woods. He heaved aside a giant scoop of powder. “We just need to move enough snow to slide up the door,” he grunted.

“Are you sure we can drive your truck in this?” she asked.

“No.”

Shit. “We need to rethink taking the snowmobile.”

“It’s too tiny. There’s no room for three of us and there’s Oro to think of. I was surprised Frisco got the two of you on it.”

“Could the snowmobile pull something? Would it have enough power if we rig something behind it?”

Chris stopped shoveling and stared at her. “You’re brilliant. Why the hell didn’t I think of that?” He tackled the snow with a renewed vigor. “I have two plastic sleds we could pull behind the snowmobile. Brian and I use them all the time.”

“If we get out to the highway on just a snowmobile and sleds, we might not be able to go much farther,” Gianna pointed out.

“That’s why I want to try the truck first. If we can make it out to a plowed road in the truck, we should be able to get to town on our own. You can drive the snowmobile, and I’ll drive the truck with Violet and Oro. That way we’ll all stay together. We’ll pack a bunch of rope and put the sleds in the bed of the truck, and we’ll use them if we need to.” He grinned as he tossed aside a shovelful of snow. “Now we’ve got two options to get us out of here. Nice thinking, Gianna. Eight miles. All we have to cover is eight miles to get to the main highway.”

“Towing us on sleds could be a strain on the snowmobile engine,” Gianna said.