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That had surprised Andi when she first came to the area. She assumed that dogsledding was a thing of the past or just a hobby for Iditarod enthusiasts. But it turned out there were people in Alaska who still used dogsledding to travel, hunt, transport items, and camp. It was very much a way of life in some of these areas.
She used to feel sorry for the dogs pulling the sleds, like they’d been forced into labor. But the dogs she’d seen seemed to love what they did—maybe even more than the dogs she’d had growing up who’d just lay around the house all day without purpose.
Finally, a little cabin with a smoking chimney appeared in the distance. Dogs could be heard barking somewhere not far away. A lot of dogs too, if Andi had to guess.
That made sense if the man used a dogsled to get places.
However, the closer they got, the more flashbacks of going to Craig’s house and finding him there filled her mind.
What if they found Obadiah dead inside also? What if the killer had been here?
A shiver raced through her.
Andi braced herself for whatever might wait ahead.
* * *
Duke bristled when he saw the front door to the cabin open and someone step out, shotgun in hand.
The man was probably in his mid-thirties. Much like Ranger, he had an overgrown, unkempt beard and shaggy hair, and he wore camo.
“It’s just me,” Ranger called. “These are friends of mine.”
The man stared at them a moment before lowering his gun.
“I wasn’t expecting you,” the man—Obadiah, Duke could only assume—said.
“I didn’t have time to call. This is an urgent matter.” Ranger paused. “Do you have time to talk?”
Obadiah glanced back and forth between them as if trying to surmise if they were worthy of his time. Finally, he nodded.
After Ranger introduced Duke and Andi to Obadiah, they all took off their snowshoes and went inside the cozy log cabin and gravitated toward the fireplace.
“Can I get you some coffee?” Obadiah asked.
Duke didn’t hesitate to say, “I’d love some.”
Obadiah grabbed a water kettle on top of his stove and poured the liquid into a French press. A few minutes later, they were all seated with warm drinks in their hands.
But the atmosphere wasn’t exactly laid-back and comfortable. It was more like if someone made a wrong move, the tension in the air might snap, causing some type of shift in the time and space continuum.
“What’s going on?” Obadiah’s words sounded just as stiff as his body language indicated.
The guy was clearly a homesteader, based on the walls of canned foods near the kitchen, the fur blanket across his couch, and the earthy smell inside the home.
Ranger nodded for Duke to start.
He tapped into his former skills as a detective. “As I’m sure you know, Craig Rogers was investigating the death of your mother . . .”
Obadiah tensed. “I’m aware of that fact. What about it?”
“Well, yesterday, Craig was murdered. When the killer was trying to escape, he took a state police officer hostage. We’re trying to figure out who the killer might be and where he might’ve taken the trooper.”
Obadiah stared at him coolly. “Who are you? Are you with the FBI or something?”
“I’m not a fed. But Iama former investigator with the CID. Andi and I found Craig’s body, and the killer now knows who we are. So you definitely could say that we have a personal stake in this.”
“Yes, I’d say you do.” Obadiah looked at Andi. “Are you a former investigator also?”
