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They went back to The Fang, where Bear dug up all the resumé information that Grant Cruz had submitted. Using their headlamps so as not to give anyone the impression that the bar was open for business at this hour, they scoured it for clues.

According to his birth date, he was thirty-eight. His previous job history included restaurants in Illinois, Arizona, and Anchorage.

“He sure has moved around a lot,” Lila noted. “Then again, I’ve done the same thing. It doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”

“I should have called more of these numbers. I only reached out to the Anchorage place, but they said he was a reliable, solid employee. They were sorry to see him go.”

Lila stroked his arm to reassure him that it wasn’t his fault if Grant turned out to be a fraud. “I don’t believe Grant is a killer. Obviously that’s not based on anything other than…well, nothing, really,” she admitted.

”Here’s something. If he killed Rita, why would he come here, to the closest town, and get a job and stay for the winter? Why wouldn’t he be long gone from this area by now?”

“Yes! That’s a much better reason.” Lila whooshed out a breath of relief. She liked Grant, and didn’t want him to be a cold-blooded evildoer. “Sometimes logic really does help.”

Bear was frowning at the photo on his phone. “Thirty-eight years old. Do you think…is that about the age that Nancy Butcher’s baby would be now?”

Lila let out a gasp. “Pretty close. Maybe he came here to learn about his origin story.”

“But why keep that hidden? Wouldn’t he be nosing around asking questions?” Bear shook his head. “We need to talk to him ASAP.”

“You mean, wake him up in the middle of the night and scare the crap out of him? Oh!” She clapped her hands as something occurred to her. “Speaking of scaring the crap out of us, all those times he came to the bar, he might have been figuring out how to set up that cable with the dress. And—” More puzzle pieces fell into place. “The day that Officer Cromwell came to warn us off the Rita Casey case, I turned around and he was gone. Poof.”

“Why would he have that dress—” Bear broke off, and she chimed in as they finished, “It was his mother’s dress.”

Chills swept through her. It made sense. Grant Cruz could be the child of the mysterious Nancy Butcher.

But then Bear shook his head. “But why would he rig the dress up like that? What purpose would that serve? This is all conjecture.” Bear’s strong features were even more forceful in the harsh light of the headlamp. God, she adored him. She just….adored him. That was all.

“I love it when you channel your inner cop.”

“Former,” he corrected sternly, though she caught the upward tug at the corner of his mouth. “Don’t leave out that part.”

She rubbed her head against his arm like a kitten. With him, she didn’t mind being a kitten, because she knew he respected her fully. So she could let her goofy, fluffy side come out to play. “You know, when I first saw you with Cromwell, I was confused about why he was so nasty to you. But now I know why.”

“Because he thinks I’m a rogue cop,” Bear said impatiently.

“No, because he knows you have something he never will. Integrity. He’s jealous of you. Also, you’re a badass hottie, and he’s a beer-bellied bully, so there’s that too.”

“Beer-bellied bully.” He chuckled at that. “Mind if I use that if the right moment comes along?”

“It’s all yours. Anyway, I suppose the right thing to do is to let Cromwell know that we’ve identified the person in the photo.”

They shared a glance, and it was clear neither of them wanted to do that, at least not right away.

“It’s two o’clock in the morning. It would be rude to bother him now,” said Bear.

“Manners are very important,” Lila agreed. “We wouldn’t want to offend him. Besides, everyone knows the service out here is terrible. It takes a while to download anything. I’m sure he isn’t expecting any response from you until at least tomorrow.”

They smiled at each other, two conspirators plotting mischief. Good mischief, though, thought Lila. She wanted to give Grant a chance to explain himself.

“Do you know where Grant is staying? We could show up there first thing and ask him some questions.”

“He said something about sleeping on a friend’s couch until he got paid, but he didn’t say who.”

“But you probably know most of the couches in town.”

He smiled at that phrasing. “I do, and I haven’t gotten any peeps about a guest overstaying his welcome.”

“Didn’t Bennie Thomas say someone was squatting in his barn?”

“Yes, but the guy cleared out the next day. He never saw who it was.”

At least that meant they didn’t have to ski out to Bennie and Eve’s place at this hour. “The Chilkoots?”

“Yeah, I have no idea what’s going on out there.”

Lila snapped her fingers as she made another connection. “I bet he’s staying at the Community. He could have dumped the syrup. It’s not cool to mess with the place where you’re staying, but obviously this person is disturbed, whoever he is. When is Grant’s next shift?”

“Tomorrow at ten.”

“That’s only about eight hours from now. Should we go to bed and pick this up in the morning?”

She liked the idea of bed, especially as she gave in to a huge yawn. “Do you think he’s dangerous?”

“At this point, all we know is that he was seen getting into a car with Rita Casey. It could have been completely innocent, maybe he was just giving her a ride. Cromwell wants to talk to him as a potential witness, not a suspect.”

Lila knew he was right, but still, an uneasy tension roiled her stomach. “He knew Rita, and he came here and got a job. That’s two things we know. And a lot we don’t know.”

Bear closed up the folder and stashed it back under the cash register and locked the drawer. “I don’t think we have a choice. We don’t know where the guy is staying. He doesn’t know we have his photo. He’ll show up tomorrow at ten and at that point, we’ll learn a whole lot.”