Page 28 of Coordinates of Death

Aurora shot to her feet and turned, studying the tree line.

Was someone out there watching?

Kordell’s chest tightened at the thought of someone targeting Aurora. He whipped out his Glock and scanned the area, wondering what had caught Mya’s attention. But nothing materialized. He turned to Bertie. “What’s she alerting to?”

Mya stood tall, her tail high as if in seek mode, her gaze fixed toward the trees.

He shrugged. “Probably a doggone varmint. She barks at anything these days. She’s gettin’ up in age. Mya, silent!”

The dog stopped barking but kept her gaze on the horizon.

Somehow, Kordell guessed it was more than a varmint. “Rory, I’m going to check it out. You stay here. Keep your head on a swivel.” He shifted his weapon to the front.

“Be careful. The snow is getting worse, and visibility has decreased. Please don’t be long.”

“Copy. Bertie, I’m counting on you to watch over Rory.” Not that Aurora couldn’t take care of herself, but the more protection, the better.

The mountain man clutched his Remington tighter, positioning it across his chest as a shield. “You betcha. I won’t leave the purdy lady’s side.”

Kordell trudged through the deep snow, his right hand at his waist, ready to take action. He checked to ensure Aurora was safe, but the snow had intensified, and he could barely see a few feet in front of him. Not good. They had to get off the mountain soon, or they’d be stuck here overnight.

And he didn’t want to get stranded in the mountains in Alaska.

Move, Kord, and get back to Rory. He reached the woods and scanned the spruce, birch, and poplar trees. Nothing.

Not even a doggone varmint, as Bertie would say.

Kordell squatted and examined the ground from a lower vantage point. Nothing.

He stood. Either Mya had alerted to an animal or, if the suspect in the pig mask was here, they had disappeared. Kordell couldn’t fathom how. Right now, he had to get back to Aurora. He exited the trees and stopped short. The area had been replaced with a white wall, obstructing his view.

And Kordell’s earlier tracks were gone. Wiped out by the heavy snow. His heart rate increased as his survival instincts kicked into gear, searching for a plan. He checked his compass on his smartwatch and determined the direction, but Kordell needed additional help. Eyes and ears. Wait—

Mya.

If he could get the dog to bark, she would lead him back to the group.

He cupped his mouth with his hands. “Mya, speak!” Would the simple command work?

Kordell took several steps, checking his compass to ensure he was headed in the correct direction. “Mya, speak!”

More steps.

Still nothing.

“Mya!”

A bark sounded in the distance.

“Kord!” Aurora’s voice filtered through the blanket of snow but from the opposite direction.

How could that be?

The storm was distorting the noise.

“I’m here, heading toward the sound of your voice. Keep yelling.”

The group shouted. Mya barked ferociously.