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the abandoned ski resorts."

His emerald eyes met hers with a sort of boyish innocence.

She licked her lips and frowned in a way that told him she was trying to recall seeing anything like that.

"No," she said finally. "Sorry, I don't think we have anything like that here. You might be able to get one at the main resort in town. It's just a park now."

"Thank you," he offered. "I heard there were two abandoned resorts. Is that right?"

She nodded. "Yeah, but Purgatory got bought up by some young fella a while back. Moved here from out of town. Bought the whole mountain. Don't know where a man his age got that kind of money, but he must have a lot of it. Built himself a cabin up there several months ago. Must be quite a view, not that he can enjoy it anymore."

Dak noticed there was no malice in her last words. "What do you mean?"

"Cops found him and the sheriff both shot dead up there earlier today."

The breath caught in Dak's chest. "Dead?"

"Yep." She crossed her arms. Her voice took on a somber tone. "They're still investigating, but it sounds like Sheriff Sanders went up there to talk to Tyler Mumford—that was his name—about the killings that happened last night at the bar."

Dak didn't bat an eye, a statue in the face of a tempest. "Killings?"

"I know," she exhaled. "I've lived here for nearly thirty years. I don't recall anything like this happening before in our little town. It's a quiet place. Now, all of the sudden, four murders in twenty-four hours? It's all so sad. Poor Andy."

"Andy?"

Her eyes had wandered down to the countertop. She lifted them when she heard his question. "Oh, yes. Andy Eller. He was a deputy, second in charge around here in the police department. He's the new sheriff for now until the next election. He must be overwhelmed. Terrible way to take over the sheriff duties."

"I'm sure it is." Dak couldn't tear himself away from the conversation, no matter how much he wanted to. "I'm so sorry, but you said the sheriff and this… Tyler fellow, were both killed?"

She nodded. "I've only heard a little more than you, but it sounds like they were both shot. I don't know if they shot each other, but that's what it sounds like. There must have been a bad disagreement. I can't imagine why those two would kill each other. Maybe the sheriff blamed Tyler for his son's death. They were friends, after all. Still, it's very strange."

Dak decided it was time to end the conversation. He'd hung around too long already and the less memorable he could make himself, the better.

"Well, thank you. I appreciate your time."

The man in the back of the store had selected his beer and was walking toward the counter holding a twelve pack.

"Have a good day," Dak offered.

"You too, hun," she said and turned her attention to the other customer as Dak quietly left.

Outside, he casually glanced around, climbed back into the SUV, and started the engine. Several thoughts swirled in his brain as he backed out of the parking spot and eased back onto the road.

Someone had killed Billy Trask. While he was satisfied that his next target had been eliminated, more questions bubbled to the surface. Who had killed Billy and Sheriff Sanders? Had it been the deputy whose wife Dak saved the night before? Had Andy Eller learned about what happened and taken out his revenge on the elder Sanders and the man he knew as Tyler Mumford?

That was doubtful. He'd done a little digging into the local deputy and learned that the man, like his wife, was a good person. Any smidge of guilt Dak felt over killing Tripp and his two cronies in the bar parking lot vanished when he learned more about the woman he'd saved—and her husband.

Andy Eller was honest, not given to the Romanesque way of getting ahead. He'd worked hard as a cop, always doing things by the book. The lady at the general store was right about one thing: Andy Eller was going to have his hands full.

One thing was certain in Dak's mind: the two men hadn't killed each other. It made sense on the surface. The new sheriff would probably make a statement in the coming days about the double homicide, how the two men had shot the other over some sort of disagreement.

Based on the scant amount of information Dak had gleaned—some from the server, Merrick—there might even be a paper trail of money connecting the two men. From there, disagreements, arguments were easy to put together as motives.

That was fine for the town of Cuchara. As grisly as it all seemed, the townspeople could have closure and eventually move on with their lives.

For Dak, however, this twist of events had brought about more problems. As he drove down the road heading back to the cabin to collect his belongings, he was left wondering—who killed Billy, and if they could find Billy, could they find him too?

Was it Nate? Or had Bo resurfaced here in Colorado? The coincidence in timing seemed unlikely, but the evidence was written in blood soaked into Purgatory Mountain.

He had to leave town immediately.

Suddenly, Dak felt the overwhelming sensation that he'd gone from being the hunter to the hunted.

Fifteen

Cuchara

The Southern Rocky Mountains cradling the small town of Cuchara gradually grew smaller in the rearview mirror as Dak headed east. He held the phone against his ear, thinking hard about the problem.

"You still there?" Will asked.

After a few seconds, Dak answered. "Yeah."

"I've been working on this one the last few days. I know that these things take time—months, maybe even years. But it could help expedite things if you gave me a little more information."

Dak made the call the second he passed the signs announcing that he was leaving Cuchara. He needed to track down Nathaniel Collier as fast as possible, in no small part because Dak feared the crazy ex-teammate might be on his trail.

Someone had

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