Ava didn’t respond. Her full attention remained on Shadow. The dog suddenly shifted in a direction that headed downhill pulling Ava toward a narrow game trail. The snow was thinner here. Towering spruce trees protected the ground.
She stumbled on an icy patch. Caleb reached for her arm to steady her. “Careful,” he said softly. “This is a narrow trail with drop-offs on either side. He probably knows this, too. That’s why he chose it.”
“Thanks. I’m okay.” Ava quickly pulled free, more rattled by his touch than the killer they were tracking.
Shadow’s pace quickened again. His nose held high picking up airborne scents, his bark breaking the tense silence. The K-9 was closing in on something.
The dog suddenly froze at a clearing, his sides heaving, hackles raised. He stared into the nearby black pines beyond. His tail lowered, and his body became rigid and alert.
Ava dropped to one knee near the K-9 and scanned the area, her Glock held tight. Nerves on edge.
Caleb swung his rifle into firing position.
Rachel unholstered her service weapon. “Where is he?”
Snowflakes continued to drift from the sky impeding their vision. There was no sign of movement. Just Shadow’s low growl deepened Ava’s fears.
A single sound split the silence. A downed branch snapping.
Another deep growl reverberated from Shadow. “Easy, boy. I got you.” Ava’s gaze continued to scan the black pines while her pulse pounded in her ears.
Beside her, Caleb shifted, every line in his body taut, his rifle focused on the trees using the scope to see. “That wasn’t an elk,” he whispered. “It sounded human.”
“How can you tell?” Rachel asked, her tone surprised.
“Experience. I’ve heard them both enough to tell the difference.”
Quiet replaced their whispers, intensifying the dangerous situation. Even the wind appeared to have died out.
Shadow suddenly lunged toward the trees. Ava dug her heels in. “Shadow. Hold.”
The Malinois immediately obeyed, yet his attention remained fixed on a single spot in the woods.
Ava rose and followed the dog’s gaze aware of Caleb edging closer in a protective gesture she’d known from their past. Before, she’d remind him that she was a trained FBI agent. Now, having him close gave her comfort.
Her mouth went dry. “I can almost feel him.” She shifted her gaze to Caleb. “He’s close.” The right thing to do would be to hold their ground and call for reinforcement. But by doing so, the killer would have an opportunity to escape.
Sweat beaded Rachel’s forehead as she followed Ava’s gaze. “You’re saying the same creep that turned that woman into a wax statue is still out there watching us?”
“Without a doubt.” There was no doubt in Ava’s mind. Wax was enjoying their hunt.
Shadow pawed at the ground several times before sitting.
“Ava, I don’t like this,” Caleb whispered in a tight voice.
A sharp crack of another branch being broken. Too close together not to be deliberate.
Ava focused on the sound and caught a whisper of movement. “There.” A figure weaved through the trees and then he was gone.
Shadow erupted with aggressive barks straining at the leash. She did her best to anchor herself and him. “Shadow. Heel.”
Caleb’s eyes cut to hers. “If he wanted to take us out he could have by now.”
That wasn’t Wax’s style. “He’s toying with us.” The steadiness of Ava’s voice surprised her. Inside, she was falling apart.
This wasn’t part of Wax’s ritual. It was all about Ava and him. He wanted her to know that he’d brought her back here and that he could reach her at any time.
Her hand tightened on Shadow’s lead, the material rubbing against the faint scar on her wrist beneath her glove—another reminder of her time with Wax.
