Black Hills

laughed at what we’ve done here. The new security. At the manhunt. He’s confident neither will stop him from the goal. The game. He said Carolyn gave him a good game.”
    “And Tyler was practice. Everything points to his driving Tyler off the trail, way off, pushing him toward the river. Tyler was a healthy man, in good shape. And bigger, heftier than Howe. The conclusion would be Howe had a weapon. A knife doesn’t work, not if Tyler managed to get any distance away. What’s the game if you force-march some guy miles?”
    She could see it now, the steps and the layers. And seeing it helped her stay calm. “We know he has a gun, and he knows the hills. He can track. He . . . he hunts.”
    “Yeah, you’d’ve held your own on the job. That’s the game—the hunt. Pick the prey, stalk the prey, make the kill.”
    “And he’s picked me because he believes I’ve violated sacred ground, sacred trust by building the refuge here. Because we share, in his head, the cougar as spirit guide. It’s crazy.”
    “He also picked you because you know the land. You can track and hunt and elude. So you’re a major prize.”
    “He might have come here before, for me, but Carolyn distracted him. She was young and pretty and attracted to him. She listened to his theories, certainly slept with him. And when she saw through enough to be afraid, or concerned, to break things off, he went after her instead. She became his prey.”
    Shaken, she lowered to the bench.
    “It’s not you, Lil. Not your fault.”
    “I know that, but she’s still dead. Almost certainly dead. And there may be someone else dead tonight just so he could get his hands on a computer to send that to me. If he goes after anyone else, any of my people, I don’t know what I’ll do. I don’t know.”
    “I’m less worried about that than I was.
    “He’s put you on notice,” Coop said when she looked up at him. “He doesn’t have to show you any more. Doesn’t have to bait you or taunt you.”
    She took a breath. “Tell me. Is Brad staying at your grandparents’ just because he likes Lucy’s cooking, or did you ask him to so he could keep an eye on things there?”
    “The cooking’s a bonus.” He got out a bottle of water, twisted the top off, and handed it to her.
    She drank. “He’s a good friend.”
    “Yeah, he is.”
    “I think . . .” She steadied herself with another long breath. “I think you can get an idea about someone by their friends.”
    “You need an idea when it comes to me, Lil?”
    “I need an idea when it comes to ten years of you.” She glanced toward the phone, wishing she could make it ring, make Willy call and tell her no one was hurt. No more death. “How do you stand waiting like this?”
    “Because it’s what comes next. This place is locked down. If he tries to come here, he’ll trip an alarm. You’re safe. You’re with me. So I can wait.”
    Trying to keep her calm, she reached out, smoothed a finger over the petals of a daisy. “You brought me more flowers. What’s that about?”
    “I figure I owe you about a decade’s worth of flowers. For fights, birthdays, whatever.”
    She studied his face, then went with impulse. “Give me your wallet.”
    “Why?”
    She held out a hand. “You want to get back in my good graces? Hand it over.”
    Caught between amusement and puzzlement, he reached back to pull it out of his pocket. And she saw the gun at his hip.
    “You’re carrying a gun.”
    “I’m licensed.” He passed her his wallet.
    “You had clips in my drawer. They’re not there anymore.”
    “Because I have a drawer all of my own now. Nice underwear, Lil. How come you never wear it?”
    “Another man bought it for me.” She smiled humorlessly when annoyance flickered over his face. “Or some of it. It didn’t seem quite appropriate to use it on you.”
    “I’m here. He’s not.”
    “And now, if I slipped that little red number on, for instance, it wouldn’t pass through your mind as you’re slipping it off me again, how he’d done the same?”
    “Throw it out.”
    For very small, smug reasons, his clipped suggestion made her smile and mean it. “If I do, you’ll know I’m ready to take you back—all the way back. What will you toss out for me, Coop?”
    “Name it.”
    She shook her head and opened the wallet. For a time, for her own satisfaction, she studied his driver’s license, the PI license. “You always took a good picture. Those Viking eyes, and the hints of