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“Might have been covered up by fresh snow,” I said.

Billy shook his head. “Nope. No animal tracks, no scat. The snow hasn’t been disturbed in any way between here and the tree line. I think the body originated much closer to the house.”

“Reason?”

“No solid reason. Just a hunch. I tramped all around out back looking for a reason and couldn’t find one.”

“Huh. I’m feeling the body was placed behind the house too but I can’t figure out why. We’ll think on it, Billy. In the meantime, we have to drive down to Conrad and find Christopher Concordian’s next of kin. Somebody has to be wondering where the hell he is.”

“Let’s see if he’s in the data base,” said Billy. He checked on his phone and Concordian had no police record. “Nothing. He’s clean.”

“That’s something,” I said.

“Do you want me to follow you to the notification or go back to the office?” Billy asked.

“Go back and help Molly. When we’re on our way back, I’ll call you when we’re about ten minutes out and you can meet us at the Dry Run. Make sure the prisoners are fed early, so you can lock up and leave.”

“Copy, boss. See you later.” Billy ran to his own squad and I followed him out Thorn’s lane to the county road.

“Where are we going now?” asked Tammy.

“A place called Conrad, to talk to the victim’s family. His wife, if he has one.”

“I’ve never been to Conrad,” said Tammy.

“Me neither.”

Concordian Residence. Conrad.

Up until his recent demise, Chris Concordian had lived in a two-story brick house on two acres on the east side of the town of Conrad. I knocked on the door, a woman answered and when she saw my badge she started to cry.

“Did you find Chris, Sheriff?”

“A rancher found him today, up near Oilmont. Your husband had a rifle with him so I’m guessing he was hunting at the time of his death. Sorry for your loss.”

She sobbed for a few minutes and then dried her eyes and pulled herself together. “I told him not to go alone, but Chris never listened to me.”

“How long has he been gone, ma’am?” I pulled my notebook out and found my pen.

“About a week.”

“A week? Did you report him missing?”

“No. I didn’t consider him missing. Chris would go into the bush for days at a time. He loved the outdoors and he loved to hunt.”

“I’m surprised he would hunt in the weather we’ve been having. Did he have a tent or some form of shelter?”

“Chris had all the camping gear money could buy, Sheriff. He was always searching online for the latest stuff and then he’d get all excited and rush to the store and get it. Buying the latest gear and spending a fortune at the outfitters was his thing. He was well-equipped and never afraid of the weather.”

“What did he take with him when he left on this last trip?” I asked. “Could you possibly give me a list?”

“Not really a list. Chris usually took his camp stove and enough food and water in his backpack. He ate those tasteless army rations and thought they were the best invention ever. Just the way he was.”

“What did your husband do for work, ma’am? You have a nice house and a big property here.”

“Chris was a tax accountant. He had his own business and a large clientele. We had no money worries.”

“Can you tell me what he was driving when he left home?”