North Country(93)

“Holt would know if someone dug a hole on his property,” I agree.

“But what about the one hundred and sixty acres behind our property that no one ever used or touched?”

“That Jon and Sarah own now.” I see where he’s going with this. “You think Jay buried it back there.”

“I don’t know what I think.” Logan toys absently with the buckling mesh fence that he’ll need to fix today, before the wolves find their way back tonight. “Why would he keep pressing me like this if it was just a hunch?”

“He sounds pretty certain.” It clicks. “Which means he had to be a part of whatever they were into.” A second piece fits neatly right after. “And Travis Dorsey probably was too.”

“My PO said Travis had specific restrictions against associating with Hank while on parole.” Worry etches his handsome face. “So, what are we talking about here?”

I shrug. “Drugs? Guns? Cash?” The three basic food groups for anyone in Murphy’s orbit. “Whatever it is, I doubt they planned on leaving it buried for this long. It’s probably decomposed by now.”

“Yeah? What if there’s a fucking body decomposing with it?” Logan mutters, wandering back to the snowmobile. He pulls off his helmet to set it on his seat and then collects the toolkit strapped to the back.

I’d love to ease his worry and say that’s not possible, but I can’t, not after what Jay and Ian did that night. “We’re not gonna find anything now, in this.” I gesture to the snow. “But we can try looking in the spring. I can probably get my hands on a trained dog. And I can bring Duke out. See if he picks up a scent. He’s trained for cadavers.” Twenty years buried is a long time, though.

“And what about this?” He juts his chin toward the sabotaged fence. “You think this is Hank too? Or do I have a problem with someone else that I don’t know about yet?” Anger laces his words.

“Hank doesn’t make sense for this,” I admit. “Let’s start by searching the area for anything unusual, which, given the snow, we’re unlikely to find.” It’ll be the proverbial needle and haystack. “Then we follow your trail around to look for any human tracks, especially toward the closest road access.” We likely won’t find anything because someone obviously did this before the heavy snowfall. “And let’s see if Jon’s cameras picked up anything else.” He has several that he repositions based on where the herd is. “Jon said this was the second time this month, so we look at the first night to see if there are any patterns. We lay it all out in front of us and see what shakes loose.”

He nods slowly. “What are you doing tonight?”

“I … uh …,” I stammer, caught off guard by that question. “Isla’s going to Barrie overnight for back-to-back games. Dillon’s taking her.”

“So, you can come over then. See if there’s something here.” He watches me, his expression hopeful.

“Yeah, of course. If someone’s intentionally sabotaging the ranch, we’ll figure it out.” Even as I voice this valid reason for accepting his invitation, I know it’s a mistake. I’m terrified of how easily my resistance vanishes when I’m near him. Every minute more that I spend with Logan, every trip down memory lane we take, chips away at my common sense as effectively as a chisel against ice. I can see it happening and instead of fighting it, I’m charging headfirst toward the other side.

His chest lifts with a deep inhale. “Okay. Where do we start?”





Chapter 30





Emery




It’s midafternoon by the time Logan delivers me back to my house, with a back that screams and a bladder that’s about to explode.

I groan at the sight of Dillon’s minivan parked in my driveway. I was hoping to get home before he arrived to pick up Isla.

Logan eases the snowmobile next to the porch. I should have told him to go around back.

“We’ll talk later!” I yell over the noise, hoping he catches the gentle dismissal.

He cuts the engine instead, flips his visor open, and rests his elbows against the handlebars, making it clear he’s not going anywhere.

I don’t know what words were exchanged between Logan and Dillon that night at the arena—I never bothered to ask—but I sensed they weren’t pleasant.

Dillon steps out, saying something to Donna and Tanner inside before shutting the door. “Isla said she’d be ready,” he announces, fussing with his coat zipper as he strolls over to us.

“You’re early.” I climb out from my seat, unfastening my helmet.

“It’s a four-hour drive, and Donna wants to get settled at the hotel before we have to head to the arena.”

Whatever Donna wants … Mention of her reminds me that I should be a mature adult. I cast a reluctant wave .

From inside, an equally reluctant wave answers.

“So …” Dillon surveys the snowmobile but doesn’t acknowledge Logan. “Fun ride?” Two simple words and yet they’re steeped in allegation.

“I wouldn’t call it that, no,” I say evenly. “Someone’s been tampering with the fences on the Landry property.”

Dillon’s eyebrows arch. “What’d they do?”