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“We’re hoping to get the dogs out later to track his scent.”
Duke’s gut tightened. “Why would this guy have taken the trooper in the first place? If he’d killed him, he would have left the body, right?”
Gibson rubbed his jaw, momentarily concealing his frown. “I would think so. It seems more likely that he’s alive. But I don’t know why this guy would keep Bosch alive. It doesn’t make much sense.”
“What can I do to help?” Duke needed to recalculate. He wanted to jump into this with both feet, but he couldn’t do that. He still had Mariella and Matthew to worry about.
“I think we’ve got a hold on things right now. But if anything pops up, we’ll let you know.”
“I’m here if you need me.”
Gibson shifted and nodded toward the sleeping bags around the fire. “You think this ragtag group of armchair detectives is really going to solve Craig’s murder?”
Duke shrugged as he remembered their conversation last night. It had been . . . surprising, to say the least. Everyone had something to offer and wanted to help.
“They all seemed interested in pitching in, didn’t they?”
“They certainly did.” His expression tightened. “But I don’t want them in any danger.”
“Mariella and Matthew only want to investigate online, so I think they should be okay. If we go to question anyone in person, I promise we’ll be on guard.”
Gibson nodded. “Everyone needs to remain vigilant. Because the chaos permeating this area appears to be more prevalent than the permafrost.”
“You can say that again.” Duke rubbed his jaw.
“The storm has lifted for a moment so I’m hoping we’ll make some progress while we can.”
“I hope you do also.”
And Duke was going to have trouble just sitting back and not doing anything.
Especially now that he knew Craig might have had some type of insight into Celeste’s death.
Or that he’d been involved with it.
Either way, Duke was now invested.
Right now, he was going to go clean himself up and change his clothes. Thankfully, he always brought an overnight bag with him on these trips.
Then he needed to get busy.
chapterthirty-two
When Andi emergedfrom the bathroom, she nearly collided with the person in the hallway.
Duke.
She gasped and drew back. Her mind had been in another world, and she hadn’t even realized anyone else was nearby. “Sorry about that.”
“That was my fault,” Duke insisted, his voice deep and soothing—and almost as engaging as Craig Rogers’ had been.
Instead of continuing down the hallway where the scent of bacon and eggs floated, they observed each other a moment. Unspoken conversations lingered between them. He’d clearly just taken a quick shower also—thankfully Simmy had more than one shower in the building for her guests. A soapy scent floated from him, and his hair glistened.
Duke studied her a moment, and Andi refused to look away. Yet she couldn’t help but think that this man could see through her. That he knew Andi had other reasons for being in this area rather than simply working as an ice road trucker.
He shifted and averted his gaze a moment. “Any word on the roads?”
She remembered her conversation with Lockjaw, and her back muscles tightened. “Still closed. I’m going to be stuck here for a while.”
