ONE
Searching for a skull in the dangerous northern tip of Asterbine National Park wasn’t where park archeologist Violet Hoyt wanted to be six days before Christmas, but her leader had tasked her to find the other Hancock family member who’d been missing for two years. Violet’s team had discovered three other skulls in early November while searching for artifacts where historians believed a trading post had once flourished in the park. The medical examiner had identified the skulls through dental records as three members of the Hancock family—mother, father and teenage son—all shot in the head, execution style. Someone had buried the heads in the middle of Violet’s excavation site. Not something she had expected to discover.
Violet adjusted her coat’s zipper to block out not only the approaching storm, but the foreboding creeping through every muscle in her body. Where was her colleague? She needed to get started before the weather turned nasty. After receiving a call at seven this morning from her leader with a tip from an inmate stating eight-year-old Amy Hancock’s skull was a few kilometers north of where they’d found the others, Violet had gathered her tools and headed to the park. She’d called Jill en route, but that was thirty minutes ago. She couldn’t wait any longer.
A branch snapped to her right.
Violet froze and pivoted, searching the area.
Crack!
She reached into the trailer hitched to the back of her ATV and grabbed her pickax. “Who’s there?”
She scanned the region, but nothing materialized. Violet expelled the breath she’d been holding. “You’re paranoid. This park is safe.” She chuckled. “And now you’re talking to yourself.” Get a grip. She’d been on edge ever since the media had thrust her into the spotlight after she’d discovered the skulls. She hated the attention.
Violet puffed out a breath, the vapors lingering in the frigid air, and texted her colleague Jill Mann, asking her whereabouts. She’d probably lose her signal once she ascended the steep path to where she had to begin her search. Violet tapped in her location and stated she was heading into the forest. After all, she’d been in this park by herself many times.
Her cell phone buzzed with a text.
I know who you really are. Let this family rest and stay out of the park. Or else.
She sucked in a breath. What in the world? Not Jill. Maybe she should wait for her colleague. Another ding. Her pulse revved up as she read her screen.
Have a family emergency. Should be there in an hour. Sorry. J
Ugh! Not good. Violet keyed in a reply, praying for Jill’s family at the same time. She swiped back to the first message and examined the text’s information. No Caller ID. She hit the block button to be on the safe side and stuffed her cell into her winter jacket.
Violet cleared the light dusting of snow off the yellow tape marking their original dig and studied the sky. Keep your eyes to the skies and ears in nature.
Her father’s saying popped into her mind. Frank Hoyt had made his children repeat his mantra until they all memorized it. Dad, you’re always right about nature.
Dark clouds were rolling in quickly along with a cool breeze, proof that the meteorologists were correct. Snow would soon hamper the region right in time for the Christmas season, which, of course, made Violet happy. She loved snow at Christmas.
A brisk wind whipped through the trees, snaking down her neck and adding to her already anxious mood. You can do this. She rolled her shoulders in determination, gathered her tools and backpack before heading toward the Hawkweed Mountain trail.
Forty-five minutes later, Violet unhooked her portable, ground-penetrating radar machine. Her team and police had searched all around where they found the skulls for the rest of the remains, but failed to find anything. They’d concluded that whoever killed the Hancock family had disposed the rest of their bodies elsewhere. Why, they didn’t know.
“Come on, Gus. I want to finish this and get out of the forest. I have Christmas gifts to buy.” Violet had nicknamed the device after Gustave, her favorite park custodian, who passed two years ago.
She waved the machine over the rocky terrain inch by inch, but nothing alerted her to skeletal remains. After another fifteen minutes of searching, she shut off the machine at the same time her sat phone rang. She jumped. Why suddenly was she scared to be in the forest by herself? Obviously, the knowledge that another Hancock family member may have been brutally murdered and buried there frayed her nerves.
Violet fished the phone out of her backpack. “Violet Hoyt here.”
“Anything yet, Hoyt?” her boss, Kevin McGregor, asked.
The older gentleman had taken Violet under his wing when she got the job, but his voice, usually calm, held concern, and she knew why. The mayor was breathing down his neck ever since their skull discovery.
“Nothing. Are we sure we trust this inmate’s word, sir?”
“We have no choice. The police have no other leads and deemed this a cold case. Wanted to give you a heads-up. Mayor Coble has brought in a human remains detection dog to help your team. Apparently, the dog specializes in archaeology finds. Constable Sara Daley is escorting them to your location. They should be there soon.”
“Thanks for the update.” Great. Another member to add to their team and risk contaminating the site. Not that she minded. She wanted to give the rest of the Hancock family closure. Two years had been too long to wait.
“Do me proud, Violet. There’s a lot riding on this case.”
He didn’t have to tell her twice. The press had been following the story, picking it apart with a fine-tooth comb.
And ridiculing Violet every step of the way.
“Understood, sir. I’ll report our progress to you later.”
“One more thing. Be careful. The inmate told the guard his cellmate has more information, so Constable Everett is at the prison questioning him. All we can ascertain at this point is it has something to do with you and the dig. It’s another reason I requested police protection for you.”
Violet’s jaw dropped as the earlier text entered her mind. Had it been meant for her, after all? Good thing her constable friend Sara was on her way. “How would this inmate possibly know that?”
“No idea. Just had to warn you. Stay alert.”
“Yes, sir. Tell Sara I’m at Hawkweed Junction. Talk later.” She clicked off the call, stowed the phone in her pack’s side pocket and picked up Gus. She must continue her search and vacate the forest.
After another thirty minutes of futile searching, Violet set her GPR device aside and removed her water bottle from her backpack. Jill, where are you?
Movement rustled the bushes behind her, and she pivoted, dropping her bottle.
A figure emerged from the shadows, dressed in camouflage gear and a white ski mask, beard and a Santa hat. He raised a rifle at her. “You can’t fool me, Violet Hoyt. I know who you really are, Baylee Peck.” The man’s lips curved into a sneer through his mask’s mouthpiece. “Where is it? I know you have it.”
Violet gasped and raised her hands. “What are you talking about?”
“The evidence you compiled against me.” He paused. “And now Ragnovica is out for my head, which means you’re on their radar, too. You should have left those skulls in the forest. It’s only a matter of time before you’re dead.”
Violet trembled at the man’s warning. Ragnovica? Who in the world was that?
He waved the rifle at her and moved closer. “Give it to me. Now.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
A dog barked in the distance, followed by muffled voices.
She turned at the sound. “Help!”
Santa Man yanked her into a tight hold. “No one can save you, Baylee. Not from me.”
His breath reeked with the pungent smell of stale cigarette smoke and whiskey.
Violet’s stomach lurched, her breakfast contents threatening to expel. Please help me! Her silent plea thundered in her mind.
The dog’s bark increased, and she glanced at the trail as the man tightened his grip. Spots prickled her vision, like fireflies, and her world spun. Fight it, Violet. Breathe.
A man and a dog appeared in her foggy line of sight. She recognized the blond from her past. Someone she had hoped never to see again, but was now thankful for his presence.
Maverick?
Santa Man raised his rifle. “Stop or she dies.”
Terror overpowered Violet, and her knees buckled. Lord, save me!
* * *
K-9 handler Maverick Shaw caught the woman’s contorted expression and stopped in his tracks. “Violet?” What were the odds she’d be here on his first assignment since moving to the area?
Next to none, but here she was. Directly in his path.
And in danger.
His Belgian Malinois growled.
“Wolf, hold.” Maverick couldn’t give the attack command until assessing the situation. He wouldn’t make the mistake he’d made back at university. The mistake that had contributed to Violet’s roommate’s death. And right now, the same look of panic flashed in her eyes.
“Let. Her. Go.” Maverick willed Constable Daley to reach them soon. Wolf had alerted to danger and zipped through the tree line. Maverick had followed. Sara was close behind.
He hoped.
“Not happening. Baylee has something I need.” The man with the Santa hat sneered.
Baylee?
He had to save Violet. Maverick knew Wolf’s abilities, but could Maverick get Violet to trust him after his brazen action to stop a shooter had failed miserably, and resulted in her roommate, Angie, getting shot? Something Maverick still wrestled with.
But he had to take the risk in order to save her. He caught Violet’s gaze and gave her a slight signal of thrusting his elbow back. Would she understand his cue?
She blinked twice. He prayed that was her acknowledgment that she understood.
Movement behind them caught Santa Man’s attention.
“Stand down,” Sara yelled.
Violet elbowed the man and fell to her knees.
He staggered backward, giving Maverick the distraction he needed.
“Wolf, get ’em!” Maverick’s command to his K-9 echoed throughout the area.
Wolf hurtled at lightning speed toward the masked man.
The suspect fired.
Wolf compensated his path to avoid the bullet, zigzagging.
Lord, don’t let my dog get shot!
The K-9 leaped into the air and snatched the rifle in his mouth, knocking the suspect to the ground at the same time.
The man cursed and scrambled to his feet, then retreated into the forest, abandoning his weapon.
Sara reached the group. “Violet, are you okay?”
She nodded and pointed toward the trees. “Get him!”
The constable once again readied her Glock and bolted after the assailant.
Wolf trotted back to their side, the rifle still in his mouth. He dropped it beside Maverick.
“Good boy.” Maverick brought out a reward from his bag and tossed it to the dog. Wolf snatched the treat, devouring it within seconds.
Maverick squatted beside Violet. “Did he hurt you?”
“No. What are you doing here?” Violet placed her gloved hands on the ground and pushed herself up. “Not that I’m ungrateful for you intervening, but I haven’t seen you in years.”
“I moved here two months ago to help start a new K-9 business at Hawkweed River Ranch.” But that wasn’t the entire reason. He pictured the five-year-old, red-haired girl living with him at the ranch. Riley. The daughter he’d been unaware of, whose trust he now struggled to earn. Becoming an instant father was not what he had planned. But that was a story for another time. Right now, he had a job to do.
Maverick tousled his dog’s ears. “To answer your question, Violet, the mayor hired Wolf here to find remains in the park. I’m guessing you’re the archeologist I’m to work with?”
“Yes.” Her lips flattened for a split second before her expression changed. But not quick enough for him to miss the frustration on her face. She didn’t like that he was here. Obviously, she still blamed him for Angie’s death.
He swallowed back his regret. Not only would he prove Wolf’s amazing abilities, but that Maverick had changed since university. He no longer made hasty decisions.
Angie’s death had taught him that much.
“Violet, why did that man call you Baylee?”
“No idea, and he seemed to think I had something of his and demanded it back.” Violet eyed the dog and her eyes softened. “He’s handsome. A Belgian Malinois, right?”
“I’m impressed. Some think Wolf’s a German shepherd. They look similar.”
“Love his name.” Violet took a step forward, holding out her hand. “Hey, Wolf. Nice to meet you.”
Sara returned and stowed her weapon. “Suspect is gone. Had an ATV waiting in a nearby clearing.” She squatted in front of the rifle. “We’ll get this dusted for prints, but I doubt we’ll find any. He was wearing gloves.” She gestured toward Wolf. “I’m impressed. How did you train him to find human remains and be a protector?”
“I used chemicals produced by corpses to train him on the scent of death, as well as other scents.” Maverick bent and rubbed his K-9’s back. “My brother and I also wanted to utilize Wolf’s protection skills, similar to a police dog.”
“So the best of both worlds.” Sara adjusted her duty belt.
Violet shifted her stance. “Sara, you don’t have a K-9 unit?”
“We do, but not an HRD dog. They’re not in the budget, so that’s why the mayor brought in Maverick and Wolf.”
“How many remains has Wolf found?” Violet asked.
A question Maverick dreaded. “Many, mostly in training. This is his first official assignment here in Alberta. My brother, Austin, and I trained him back on the Murray K-9 Ranch.”
Violet grimaced. “So, he technically hasn’t found any remains. In the wild, so to speak.”
“No, but he can, and will. If there are any here to find, of course.”
A wind gust whisked through the trees, bringing with it a flurry of snowflakes. Maverick analyzed the weather conditions.
Darkened clouds had rolled in within the last hour. They had to act fast to get ahead of the storm approaching Asterbine National Park.
“Time to show you what Wolf can do.” Maverick pointed to the clouds. “Bad weather is moving in. Do you know where the remains could be?”
“Our intel said this location, but I used ground-penetrating radar around a wide perimeter. It didn’t pick up a fourth skull or anything else.” Violet dug out a map. “We need to expand our grid a bit more. Maybe to Hawkweed River.” Violet folded her map and tucked it into her pack. “Time to work.”
“Wolf, ready,” Maverick commanded.
The dog hopped up onto all fours and barked.
“Wolf, seek.”
The Malinois raised his snout in the air and circled, smelling each direction before hurtling off toward the tree line in an easterly direction.
“He’s caught a scent. Let’s follow.” Maverick dashed after his K-9.
Fifteen minutes later, Maverick ducked under a cluster of trees and stepped into a rugged terrain close to cliffs.
Wolf barked and sat beside a rock formation, placing his paw on one end.
Maverick turned to Violet. “He’s found something. That’s his alert.”
Violet approached the formation and peered over the cliff’s edge. “Wow, that’s a long way down. Stay back.”
Sara’s radio crackled.
“Daley, come in.”
“That’s my partner.” She pressed the button. “Go ahead, Everett.”
“Beware. Convict revealed someone is stalking archeologist Hoyt.”
Violet pivoted, stumbling over a rock dangerously close to the edge.
Wolf barked and grabbed the bottom of her coat, tugging her backward.
Even before Maverick could act. “Whoa.” He brought Violet into his arms. “You okay?”
“Wolf saved me from a possible tumble over the edge.” She dropped beside the dog and hugged him. “Thank you.”
Woof!
Violet stood and marched over to where Sara was standing. “What did this inmate say?”
The officer repeated her question over the radio.
“Said there’s a bounty on the archeologist’s head. Seems she’s not who she says she is.”
Violet’s jaw dropped. “Sara, can I talk to him?”
The woman nodded and pressed the radio button, holding it up to Violet. “Nick, that’s absurd. Where did he get that information?”
“That’s all he knew.” A hesitation filtered through the airwaves. “Daley, I just arrived at the dig site. Where are you exactly?”
Sara gave her partner the location where Wolf had alerted to remains.
“On my way.”
“Copy that.”
Violet picked up her device, passing it over the rock formation incrementally. Moments later, she scowled. “Gus isn’t picking anything up.”
Maverick raised his brow. “Gus?”
Violet lifted her tool. “Gus, the GPR.”
He chuckled and knelt where Wolf had placed his paw, pushing on a large rock. “I trust my dog, not your device. No offense, but he can catch scents between rocks.” He held out his hand. “Pass me your shovel.”
She pursed her lips, but unclipped her folded shovel from her backpack before dropping beside him. “I’ll dig. You and Sara clear the rocks.”
“Where’s Jill, Vi?” Sara asked.
“She had a family emergency but should be here soon.” She lifted out a smaller rock and shoved it aside before digging.
Together, the group soon had a small opening cleared in the rock formation.
Violet dug carefully. Moments later, she stopped. “I grazed something. If it’s what I think it is, we’ll need to bring in our forensic anthropologist, Dr. Martin.” Violet tossed the shovel aside and pulled out her brush, gingerly exposing what Wolf alerted to.
A skeleton.
“Well, I’ll be.” Violet glanced at Wolf. “Good boy.”
Sara leaned closer. “But that’s not a skull. Could this be the rest of the Hancocks’ remains?”
“Possibly.” Violet stood.
“I’ll radio for Dr. Martin to come.” Sara pressed her button and made the request with her dispatch.
“Thanks, Sara.” Violet took out her camera. “I want to document—”
Wolf growled before barking, shifting his position. Something had caught the dog’s attention.
Sara withdrew her weapon.
Maverick looked in the direction Wolf was facing.
A figure skulked in the forest as red flashed through the trees, followed by another.
Santa Man was back with reinforcements.
And they were perilously close to the cliff’s edge.
With nowhere to run. ...
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