Page 23 of Snow River

“I don’t knowwhat this footage is supposed to be, but even my blips are clearer than this.”Lila leaned her elbows on the counter as Bear played her a clip on his phone.He’d surreptitiously pressed record on his phone while the bank’s security officer had played CCTV footage from when Rita had left the hotel.An off-angle recording of a grainy video, in other words.In black and white, yet.It was almost impossible to make anything out.

“That is her, though.”He played the clip again and pointed to the woman in a backpack exiting the door.“She gets into a car.Looks like a Subaru.A dark color, probably green or black.”

“But you can’t even see who’s driving.”

“No.And no license plate, either.But it does confirm that she most likely went backpacking with this guy.Does that look like a fishing hat like the one in the watercolor?”He played the clip again.

She sighed and shook her head.“I think so.But how can we find this guy?What if he hurts someone else while we’re trying to figure out what color his car is and whether he wears a fishing hat?”

She shivered as she watched the dark gray car slide past the camera again.Her intuition had gone silent since that day in the woods.She hadn’t had any more strange dream messages from Allison Casey, either.The quiet unnerved her, as if another shoe was preparing to drop.

“He may not even be around anymore.”Bear pocketed his phone.“If he was smart, he’d be long gone.”

“Doesn’t that depend on what he wanted to accomplish?”

Bear’s forehead creased in a frown.“What do you mean?”

“We really don’t know anything about him, or why he killed Rita, or if he killed her.I still think it’s strange that she had the same last name as Allison.I know they weren’t related, but even so…” She shrugged.That coincidence still bothered her, and it also bugged her that itdidn’tbother anyone else.So what if the murder spree was four decades in the past?It was still odd.

“It’s significant that he seems to have disappeared too.If he wasn’t involved, why isn’t he coming forward to help the police?Think about it.It was just chance that she washed up on the shore.Her body could have easily been swept all the way to the Gulf of Alaska.Maybe he was even counting on that.”

Lila took out a can opener and a big can of olives and got to work on the lid.“Maybe.But he could have just left her in the woods.No one would find her there, either, especially with winter coming.In a few weeks, she’d be buried under a couple of feet of snow.Anyway, the guy in the watercolor, I just…he seems like a peaceful person, that’s all.”

“From her perspective.She painted the watercolor.”

That was a good point, one she couldn’t refute.She looked up at Bear to find him watching her movements with frustration.With a sigh, she handed him the can and the opener.It took only a few forceful cranks for him to accomplish the task.

“Thank you, although I nearly had it.”

Without a word, he reached into the knapsack filled with supplies he’d brought back from Blackbear.He set a brand new can-opener on the counter.

“Wait.Am I looking at a can opener that isn’t thirty years old and duller than my third grade teacher who put me to sleep every day for a year?”

He smiled, gratified by her excitement.“Need the right tool for the job.Sorry it took so long.”

“It’s all right.I know it doesn’t seem dull to you because you could pierce a tin can with your bare hands.Or maybe a well-directed frown.”

His grin widened into a laugh.“I’ll try that next time.One more thing.”He strode to the back door and came back with an enormous cardboard box, clearly heavy, even for him.Nothing on the outside identified what it contained.“They happened to be on sale, so I grabbed one.”He plopped it onto the counter, then used a utility knife to slit open the flaps.

When they all fell away, the most beautiful sight in the world greeted her.A commercial espresso machine, complete with a spigot to froth milk.Her stomach cratered and mouth fell open.“You got a frothy drink maker?”

“You said you missed your lattes.”

“Yes, but…you didn’t have to…” She trailed off, still marveling at the gleaming newness of the machine, with its ornate brass details—an eagle with spread wings, a logo in Italian.“This must have been expensive.”

Bear, looking embarrassed, stuck his hands in his back pockets.“It’s a bar expense.”

“But we don’t serve lattes.We just have that drip coffee maker that we only activate for emergencies, like when Pinky falls asleep at the bar.”

“Times change.First soup, now this.Gotta keep my staff happy.”He rounded the counter and shoved aside a pile of plastic pitchers to clear a spot under the shelves that held the liquor bottles.Under her watchful eye, he heaved the machine into his arms and settled it into place.

“Be careful, it looks very heavy.”

He ignored that, since to him it probably wasn’t heavy at all.She hovered next to him while he tweaked its position and searched for an extension cord to plug it in.

“First drink request?”he asked once it was all set up.

“I get the first drink?”

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