Toren pulled the corner of his mouth between his teeth and glanced out the window for a long moment before turning back to me. “I’m a hunting guide. I was out scouting locations this past week and came across a camp. Some old man was there, and—” He stopped, glancing away again before shaking his head and continuing. “I don’t know. He—something just seemed off. I don’t spend a lot of time here in town, but I’ve heard the rumors about what happened next door. I know the cops are looking for the old guy who owned the place. It could be nothing, but I figured I’d still bring it to their attention.” His expression darkened and his black brows drew down over his eyes. “If that were someone I loved in the wall, I’d want people to do everything possible to find her killer.”
The anger that simmered in his voice spoke of something deeper than just a desire for justice. I’d bet my favorite coffee mug someone he loved had died a violent death.
Picking up the little pots of espresso, I dumped them in the paper cup. “Go to the police station and ask for Detective Quartermaine. I’m not sure he’s there right now, but you can leave a message for him or get his direct number and call.” Opening the little fridge below the counter, I grabbed the milk carton and poured some into the steamer pitcher.
“I’ll do that, thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Tossing him a quick smile, I finished his drink and handed it over.
“Thanks.” With a quick tap of his fingers to his temple in salutation, he left.
I watched him go, my thoughts a jumble as I silently kicked myself for not asking more questions. People camped in the wilderness all the time, especially this time of year. It was probably nothing. But I would like to know what the man looked like and where the camp was.
Not that I would venture out there.
That was dumb and a good way to end up dead. Even if it wasn’t Walter, the man could still be dangerous.
I let out a soft huff.
Dang it. Now I had more questions.
CHAPTER 27
Luke
The shaft of sunlight that streamed through the front door as it opened temporarily blinded me as I framed out what would eventually be the pass-through for the kitchen. Blinking several times, then squinting against the bright light, I set my nail gun down when I saw Mina enter.
“Hey.” I smiled and crossed to her.
“Hey, yourself.” She grinned up at me, then stood on her toes to peck a quick kiss on my lips.
That familiar swirl of desire stirred in my blood. I was very happy we’d made up last night. I’d missed her touch. Missedher. “What brings you by?” I kept a loose grip on her hips as she settled back onto her feet. “It’s not lunchtime.” I frowned, bringing up my watch to look at it. “Is it?” The watch face read ten-forty-one.
“No. We had a lull, so I thought I’d come update you on a couple conversations I had this morning.”
“Oh?” I quirked an eyebrow.
“Ozzie stopped in. I forgot to tell him about talking with Rich Stevenson.” She wrinkled her nose. “When Claire came in for coffee early this morning, I mentioned it to her. She told him, and he stormed in an hour or so later on the war path. Anyway,he’s aware now, but the interesting part of that conversation is he mentioned his brother, Ellis, heard some fishermen talking about a young woman coming down to the docks back around the time Moira disappeared, asking questions about some of the property along the waterfront.”
“Really?” I clucked my tongue. “That’s interesting.”
“I thought so too. Ozzie’s following up on it, as well as talking to Rich. That’s not the only interesting conversation I had, though. Do you know a man named Toren? He says he’s new around here. A hunting guide. Super tall. Dark hair.”
Slowly, I shook my head. “No. Doesn’t ring any bells. Why?”
“He’s been in a couple of times. Today, though, he asked if I was the person who found the woman in the wall.”
My muscles tensed. “Are people bugging you about that?”
“Some.” She waved a hand. “But that’s not why this is important. He wasn’t curious about what we found. He wanted to know who was in charge of the case, because he found something interesting in the woods.”
“What did he find?”
“An old man at a campsite.”
My eyebrows winged upward. “That’s not exactly unusual for Alaska. People—young and old—camp here all the time.”
“I know, but he said the guy was squirrely and that the interaction felt off.”
