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‘Cold cases?’

‘No,’ Natalie said. ‘He was kind of cagey about it, wouldn’t say what they were about.’

Ben thought for a moment.

‘It would explain how Ethan got back into Israel so fast, and also why the CIA were taken out of the loop. The DIA runs its business with a certain amount of autonomy from the other agencies. CIA might have gotten pissed about that and kept Ethan under watch.’

Natalie felt a sense of dread creep across her shoulders. ‘They could be watching me right now,’ she said. ‘They could have bugged my phone, my apartment, anything.’

Ben nodded. ‘Especially now you’re part of an investigation into the CIA,’ he said. ‘You can’t trust anybody, Natalie. Not right now, anyway.’

They sat in silence for a long moment before a voice cut in between them.

‘Does that say what I think it says?’

Natalie turned and saw Guy Rikard’s beady little eyes scan the pages spread across her desk. She hastily swept them aside but Guy smiled at her.

‘Too late,’ he said, and tapped his head with one stubby finger. ‘All in here now.’

Ben stood up and confronted Guy. ‘How about you take off?’

Natalie stood up and put herself between them. She placed a hand against Ben’s chest to hold him back and shot Rikard a dirty look.

‘Good advice, don’t you think, Guy?’ she said.

Rikard’s face flushed red but his eyes flickered with panic as he looked at Ben.

‘Go ahead,’ he uttered. ‘You’ll be in jail by this afternoon.’

Natalie felt Ben press toward Rikard, but the older man backed away with a sneer and strode off back toward his desk.

Natalie turned away from him and thought for a moment before making a decision. The first thing she needed to do was confirm whether or not she was actually under surveillance, and there was really only one way to do that.

‘I’m heading out,’ she said, and picked up her bag and keys.

‘You want help?’ Ben offered.

‘I’ll be fine,’ she replied. ‘Try not to kill Guy while I’m gone, okay?’

Rikard saw her leaving and called across to her.

‘I can’t make lunch today, honey, maybe tomorrow if that’s okay?’

Several faces looked up in surprise. Natalie smiled back at Rikard as she swept from the office.

‘Sure, Guy, let me know when hell freezes over.’

A flutter of chuckles followed her out of the door.

19

WHITE BIRD, IDAHO

Ethan found the settlement of White Bird just off the US-95, nestled between the highway and soaring hills of sandy rock peppered with hardy cedars clinging to life on their barren slopes.

‘You sure we’re going to find our man here?’ Lopez asked, looking out of the window of their hired Taurus.

‘This is where Earl Carpenter told me he lives,’ Ethan replied. ‘Best tracker in the business, so he said.’

White Bird boasted a population of less than one hundred souls, and most of the homes were single-story clapperboard affairs with neatly kept yards. A colorful swing-sign welcomed visitors to the town, emblazoned with ‘Est. 1891’. The Sacred Heart Church was painted a pure white and the town boasted both a post office and a library. They passed a bar called the Silver Dollar, a bunch of well-polished trucks parked outside. The trees around the residential areas gave the little town a splash of greenery that contrasted with the rugged hills looming around it.

Ethan pulled in alongside the address he’d been given when he’d asked the sheriff for an experienced woodsman to act as a guide. The small, immaculate homestead looked like many of the others in the town except for one small detail. The truck outside was caked with mud and dirt, the mark of a four-by-four used for what it was actually designed for. Off-roading.

Ethan got out and let the Labrador that wandered over lick his hand and snuffle the cuff of his jacket as they walked toward the porch. The door opened before they even got there and a young girl of maybe eighteen or nineteen peeked out at them.

‘Can I help you?’

Ethan offered her an easy smile.

‘We’re looking for Duran Wilkes. We were hoping to hire the best tracker in Idaho.’

The silhouette of a man appeared in the hall behind the girl, who stepped back as the door opened fully and a bearded, wizened face peered suspiciously at them.

‘Who sent you?’ the old man demanded.

‘Sheriff Earl Carpenter,’ Lopez replied. ‘Said you were the go-to guy for tracking.’

‘Did he now?’ the old man asked, one hand reaching up to tug at his straggly beard. ‘Well, that all depends on what it is you’ll be wantin’ to track.’

There was a chance that the old guy might have gotten wind of the arrest of Jesse MacCarthy, and maybe even heard of the story that the missing Cletus had been taken by a monster. But Ethan doubted it. This man looked like he wasn’t in the slightest bit interested in the affairs taking place outside his own picket fence, much less in a town down the road. Ethan took a chance.

‘A man,’ he replied. ‘By the name of Cletus MacCarthy. He disappeared out in the forests of Nez Perce and we were hoping you could help us try to find him.’

The old man chuckled as though relieved.

‘A man? That’ll be easy. Cretins leave a trail like a herd of bison through a wheat field.’

Duran Wilkes stood back and held the porch door open for Ethan and Lopez to step through. He closed it behind them and followed them into the lounge. Ethan’s gaze was drawn immediately to what looked like half of a tree affixed to one wall. It was only when he saw the elk’s head in the middle that he realized what it was.

‘Jesus,’ Lopez said, flashing the old man a bright smile. ‘You bring that down with your bare hands back in the day?’

He cackled a laugh as his frosty demeanour melted.

‘Just last week, honey.’ Duran gestured to the teenage girl who watched them from the kitchen doorway. ‘This is Mary, my granddaughter. She travels with me and knows the land just like I do.’

Ethan nodded at Mary, who perched herself unobtrusively on the edge of an armchair. Duran gestured for Ethan and Lopez to sit down and looked at them both for a moment before speaking.

‘I like you, both of you,’ he said. ‘You don’t have the air of the city-boy jerk-offs I get coming down here offering a thousand bucks for day trips to shoot shit for the hell of it.’

‘For a thousand bucks I’d get some other asshole to shoot for me,’ Lopez replied.

Ethan leaned forward as he spoke.

‘We need you for a couple of days, is all. We have a good idea of where Cletus MacCarthy was when he vanished. The plan is to pick up his trail from there and see where it leads us.’

Duran nodded and waved airily as though he’d heard it all before.

‘What’s the last known location?’

‘Fox Creek, Nez Perce Forest.’

Duran Wilkes’s features froze in motion for an instant, as though he’d briefly forgotten where he was. He reached for his beard again as he spoke.

‘Okay,’ he said, his voice softer now. ‘What happened out there, anyone know?’

Ethan sensed an obstacle and let Lopez do the talking.

‘Cletus and his brother were out poaching elk when they were caught in the act by a park ranger named Gavin Coltz. As he was about to arrest them the ranger was attacked and killed.’

‘An accomplice,’ Duran said, ‘and a violent one. If it’s criminals we’re tracking my price doubles, you understand?’

Lopez, cornered already, glanced at Ethan before she replied. ‘We’re not tracking a criminal.’

Duran watched her for a long moment. ‘What happened to this Cletus fella?’

‘Cletus was also killed by the attacker,’ Ethan replied. ‘His body is missing. The only survivor was the younger brother, Jesse, who is now under suspicion of homicide.’