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And Andi didn’t even want to start thinking about someone doing the same thing to her as they had done to poor Craig.
The front door opened, and her lungs froze.
What was happening? She needed to know!
She crept closer to the studio door, ready to peer around the corner and into the hallway.
Not that she’d be able to see much. But knowing something was better than going in blind.
Then a voice cut through the air. “Duke McAllister?”
“Logan Gibson? Hey, man. I wasn’t expecting you to show up.” Duke’s voice turned warm.
Wait . . . Duke knew this person?
That was a twist she hadn’t seen coming.
Her shoulders relaxed slightly, and she shoved her gun back into her waistband before stepping out into the hallway. When she reached the living room, she saw Duke talking to a man in uniform.
A state trooper.
The guy was probably in his early forties with thick dark hair and vibrant brown eyes. He was tall and fit with a tattoo peeking out from his sleeve and onto his wrist.
Something about the man gave Andi a bad boy/rebellious vibe.
They both glanced over when she stepped into the room.
“Gibson, this is Andi. At Simmy’s request, she and I came here to check on Craig.” Duke’s voice turned notably somber.
“Logan Gibson.” The trooper nodded at her. “Nice to meet you. Sorry about the circumstances.”
Andi nodded back at him. “Me too.”
“Someone want to explain the ladder?” He swung his head toward the door, questions in his gaze.
“It’s a long story,” Duke muttered.
“We can get to that in a moment then.” Gibson turned toward them both. “What’s this I hear about a body?”
“We’ll show you.” Duke motioned toward the hallway.
Andi hoped this guy might be able to offer them some information so they could put this behind them.
But the hardest part was yet to come.
She still had to tell Simmy the news.
* * *
Duke ran through what he knew about Craig with Gibson.
When he finished, Gibson let out a sigh. “We don’t see murders out here very often.”
“That’s what I figured.”
The trooper slipped on some gloves and pulled several evidence markers from his bag.
“I’m not sure how long it will be until anyone else can get here, unfortunately.” Gibson placed a marker by some blood spatter on the wall. “I’m thankful I got here when I did. One of the workers up in Prudhoe Bay went a little loco. Lashed out, beat up three people. Then he went on the lam. Found him in Coldfoot and locked him up for the night.”
