She stood in front of the narrow mirror behind the door of the private bathroom attached to her room.
Her blazer and shirt were folded neatly on the chair—evidence of another version of herself that belonged to courtrooms and high-stake clients. The woman staring back at her looked less polished . . . but not quite authentic.
She didn’t look like someone who belonged on a mountain trail in winter. Her nails were too manicured. Her hands too soft. Her skin too untouched by cold air and nature.
However, at one point in her life she hadn’t looked like someone who could stand up in her first courtroom either.
She’d had five years of practice. Uncountable jury trials. A reputation for not backing down when opposing counsel tried to bulldoze her.
She’d rightfully earned the nickname The Hammer after she’d put away a man named Bartholomew Beekman. Though she’d felt sympathy for the man at first, she’d quickly sensed he had a darker side.
He’d lost his land to eminent domain, which destroyed his business. He fought back through increasingly aggressive means—including going after the people with the county who took his land. That was when he picked up federal charges.
Each step had felt justified to him, and each consequence had deepened the wound.
She hadn’t shown much mercy, thus earning her the nickname.
But the forest didn’t care about courtroom victories or nicknames. The wilderness was unforgiving to those unfamiliar with it.
Was Mackenzie one of those people?
Kori didn’t know. The only way to find out—other than finding her sister—was to talk to Mackenzie’s friends. But Flo was the only one she knew about.
Flint’s image drifted into her mind.
Was Mackenzie still in contact with him? Talking to Flint was the last thing Kori wanted—but she might not have another choice.
Her gaze shifted to the window.
The snow outside had thickened and was beginning to blur the storefronts across the street.
Kori checked the time: 7:26 p.m.
She could drive to the trailhead. Look at it. See if Mackenzie’s car was there.
She could even start down the trail to see what it was like . . .
The thought tempted her for a full five seconds. Then she shook her head and let it go.
Walking into the woods in the dark ahead of a blizzard would be reckless.
And Kori was many things, but she wasn’t reckless.
As she stood there figuring out her next plan of action, Wyatt King slipped into her thoughts.
In court, she read people for a living. She watched them fracture. Watched them reveal themselves.
Very few people ever watched her with that same steady attention.
Wyatt had, and she didn’t know what to do with that. The thought threw her off-balance.
She didn’t like being off-balance.
But she’d do whatever it took to find Mackenzie—even if it meant standing beside a man who could see straight through her carefully controlled exterior.
That vulnerability felt dangerous . . . but she had no other choice right now.
