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CHAPTER

FORTY-THREE

The team decided to split up.

Ranger and Duke would head to Chena Lake.

While they did that, Logan and Andi would talk to Dr. George Winters.

“You think he’s going to welcome us with open arms?” Andi asked as they headed down the road.

“It’s doubtful,” Logan said. “But it’s also worth a try.”

“I can’t help but wonder if the killer might be someone she knows,” Andi murmured. “Someone she trusts even.”

“He could be. It’s like we talked about earlier—all these people we’re looking at as potential victims could also potentially be the killer. So by warning the next victim, we actually may be tipping our hand toward the killer . . .” Logan’s jaw clenched as he said the words.

He’d worked a lot of cases, but this one was particularly complicated. And it wasn’t just because he knew Morgan personally.

The person behind these crimes was twisted. Sick. The sight of a human suffering brought them some perverse type of joy.

Ashcroft didn’t fit that description, did he? Logan still had a hard time picturing it. Besides, Ashcroft didn’t really know Morgan.

But Dr. Winters did.

Logan didn’t like that thought. But he needed to keep it in the back of his mind.

A few minutes later, they pulled up to the building where Dr. Winters worked.

The two-story medical complex was typical of Fairbanks architecture—practical brick and concrete designed to withstand harsh winters rather than to impress. A modest sign by the entrance listed various practitioners: family medicine, dentistry, and psychological services.

The parking lot was half-full of vehicles still bearing traces of road salt and grime from the long winter, and patches of dirty snow lingered in the shadows despite the April sun trying to break through the overcast sky.

Logan imagined Morgan coming here. She hadn’t spoken very much about Dr. Winters. But he remembered a few snippets.

Dr. Winters asks a lot of personal questions about you, Logan. More than seems necessary for my therapy.

Sometimes I catch him writing things down when I mention specific places we’ve been or people we know. It feels like he’s cataloging information.

He’s always perfectly controlled, never shows any real emotion. It makes me wonder what he’s really thinking.

Plus, the doctor would have known about Morgan’s journal. Did he want her to write down her thoughts so he could later read them when he snuck into her cabin?

Logan didn’t like the thought of it.

He wanted to speak to this man now more than ever.

He glanced at Andi. “Let’s do this.”

“Can I do the talking?” Andi asked as they stepped off the elevator. “At least, at first. Women tend to come across softer and not as intimidating in these situations.”

“Go for it,” Logan told her.

Andi plastered on a smile as she approached the receptionist. The young woman behind the counter looked up from her computer screen with the kind of practiced politeness that didn’t reach her eyes.

She was probably in her mid-twenties, with blonde hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail and eyes that seemed to assess rather than welcome.

Her makeup was flawless and her smile perfectly professional.

But there was something distant about her demeanor—like she’d perfected the art of being helpful without actually being warm.

“Hi, I’m Andi, and I don’t have an appointment to see Dr. Winters. But I was wondering if we could speak with him. It’s about an urgent matter—a client of his who may be in trouble.”

The receptionist’s expression remained terse. “I’m afraid he can’t speak about his patients.”

“I understand,” Andi continued. “But?—”

“And he doesn’t see anyone without an appointment,” the receptionist continued.

Maybe this woman wouldn’t warm up to Andi more quickly after all.

Logan decided to give it a shot. He stepped forward, and the woman seemed to brighten as she looked him over.

Andi rolled her eyes.

“Rainey?” He glanced at the nameplate on her desk. “That’s a really beautiful name.”

“Thanks.” The woman beamed at him. “My dad picked it for me. All because I was born on a rainy day.”

“And it matches your eyes with their unique shade of gray.”

Her smile widened. “Most people don’t think gray eyes are that beautiful.”

“They’re wrong.”

She let out a giggle.

“Rainey, it would really mean a lot to us if you could just ask him if he would talk to us,” Logan leaned on the counter toward her. “It’s about Morgan Riley. We believe she’s in danger.”

“Morgan? I know her. She’s nice.” Rainey stared at him a moment.

Andi held her breath as they waited to hear the woman’s response.

Finally, she nodded, her expression softening. “Okay. I guess I can ask. Let me see what I can find out.”

She stood from her desk and walked to the door behind her, then tapped on it gently. At a muffled response from within, she disappeared inside.

When she was gone, Andi turned to Logan. “So much for my theory.”

He shrugged. “I thought it was worth a shot to give it a try myself.”

“I’m glad you did because I wasn’t getting very far.”

The door opened again, and they both snapped their attention toward it.

Rainey paused there. “He has five minutes he can spare.”

Relief swept through Andi. It had worked. They would be able to talk to him.

Now Andi just hoped Dr. Winters had something helpful to add.