Page 40 of Cold Target

"But the task force briefing said Kinsman grew up in Michigan. Which means when he said, 'the mountains,' he wasn't talking about the Rockies."

"He was talking about the Porcupines," Simmons finished.

"Maybe."

They drove in silence for another minute. The hotel was getting closer. Joe could see the glow of its sign through the trees ahead.

"It's a long shot," Simmons said.

"It is."

"Could be nothing. Could be he was talking about somewhere else entirely."

"That’s a definite possibility."

Joe pulled into the hotel parking lot. Put the truck in park. Left the engine running.

Simmons looked at him. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking I need to go up there," Joe said.

"To the Porcupine Mountains."

"Yeah."

Simmons was quiet for a moment. Then: "That's six hours away. At least."

"I know."

"And you want to go alone."

"I do."

Simmons started to protest, but Joe cut him off.

"You're injured," Joe said. "Cracked ribs, maybe broken. Concussion, probably mild but still there. You need rest. And you need to be here in case Winthrow calls with new orders."

"Joe—"

"There's an enemy presence here," Joe continued. "The CI was murdered. You got jumped. But I don't think it's leadership. I think it's local militia. Low-level guys. Sympathizers. They're watching us, but they're not the ones running the operation."

He looked at Simmons directly.

"The real players are somewhere else. And I think Kinsman might be in those mountains. He’s the reason I was brought in."

Simmons held his gaze. His face was bruised and swollen.

"How long?" he asked.

"Forty-eight hours. Maybe less. I drive up, search the likely areas for an old logging camp or mine and then drive back. If I find something, I call it in. If I don't, we regroup and try something else."

Simmons thought about it. Joe could see him weighing the options.

Finally, Simmons nodded. "All right. But you need to check in every twelve hours. If Winthrow finds out we split up,she could make our lives miserable. Or should I say,moremiserable."

Simmons opened the door. Winced as he stepped out and he stood there for a moment in the falling snow, looking at Joe through the window. Then he turned and walked toward the hotel entrance.

Joe watched him go. Made sure he got inside safely.