Page 48 of Skin Game

In the rearview mirror, Casey watched Bowie’s ears prick up and his tail smack against the seat.

Half an hour later, he finally arrived at Snowcap Estates. The partially developed land depressed him. The so-called investmentgroup had cut down the trees and installed electric hookups, but that was as far as they’d gotten before the shit hit the fan. Casey parked along the edge of the road and got out, thankful that the morning rain had lessened to a sort of enveloping mist instead of the downpour it had been when he’d left the ranger office. He held the door open for Bowie, who jumped to the ground.

“It’s going to be a bath day for you after this.”

Bowie eyed him briefly and then trotted off toward a pile of logging debris, following some scent that humans could not smell. Casey trailed after him, keeping an eye out for anything unusual that might suggest Perkins had been around—or just anything unusual in general.

He ducked under the ragged Do Not Trespass tape still looped across the site’s access road. A forensics team had been contracted to search for Suzie Warner’s remains, but conditions from December through February had been both cold and wet. For complicated reasons, some to do with the weather and others tied to the estimated age of the remains and not having an idea where they might be located on the acreage, the West Coast Forensics team was still not due in for another week.

At least that’s what Casey had heard through the grapevine, the grapevine being Greta and her “sources.”

As he walked further onto the property, a sense of unease began to overtake him. As someone who spent a lot of time alone in the woods and someone that lawbreakers didn’t always welcome, he paid attention to the rise of the hairs on the back of his neck.

“Bowie.” He snapped his fingers. “To me.”

Already about fifty feet ahead of him, Bowie turned back and joined him. Maybe he was feeling the unease too.

“Good boy.”

Regardless of who was out there, Casey wasn’t leaving just yet.

“Calvin Perkins!” Casey shouted. “Are you out there?”

There was no immediate answer, which was not a surprise.

“Perkins, your mom is devastated and wants you home again.” Even jerks like Calvin had mothers who cared about them. “I don’t know if you’ve heard the news, but Eli Rizzi is in jail.”

No response, just the drip-drip of rainwater falling from tree branches, Bowie sniffing around, and his own voice. Since the events of last fall, Casey had been wondering about the role Eli Rizzi had played in Dwayne’s and Calvin’s lives. Had their careers of petty crime been encouraged by their uncle? Calvin was the only one left who could say.

The hairs on his neck were telling him there was still someone—or something—out there. Casey stopped and turned in a full circle, scanning the area. With the leaves and other debris covering the ground and the copious amounts of mud and mud puddles popping up through them, it was hard to tell if someone had been there recently or if some sort of animal was watching him. There was no shortage of bears and cougars up this way.

Bowie let out a sharp bark.

“What is it, boy?”

Casey grabbed Bowie’s collar and stood in place, his back to one of the few remaining fir trees, with Bowie between his legs. The space between his shoulder blades didn’t feel so vulnerable in this position. He tried to convince himself that his imagination was making him jumpy, but it didn’t work.

His cell phone vibrated, surprising him. It was rare for cell phones to have service up here unless there was a convergence of satellites and low cloud cover. Casey tugged the thing out of his inside pocket and saw it was Gabriel.

“Hello,” Casey said softly.

“It’s me.”

It was ridiculous how the sound of Gabe’s voice made him feel less jumpy. Who would’ve thought.

“It is.”

Casey wondered why Gabe was calling. His tone didn’t sound like “hey, was bored, whatcha doing.”

“Guess what I just found out?” Gabe asked.

“What?” The various scenarios that Casey’s imagination came up with ranged from Gabe’s espresso machine had been recalled to he’d been called for jury duty.

“Rizzi is dead.” Gabe put particular emphasis on the last d in dead.

Casey blinked. “What, seriously?”

“As a heart attack, as Elton would say. I don’t know the details, but Eagan told me he was found dead in his cell over the weekend.”