Page 5 of Rangers Last Promise

I check the spare bedroom, bathroom, and hall closet before moving downstairs. The front door remains locked, but the curtain beside it moves slightly.

The window is open.

I know I closed it.

I cross the living room and look outside. Mom’s yard stretches toward a line of cottonwood trees. Beyond them lies the narrow creek separating her property from the old McKinley pasture.

Nothing moves.

I shut and lock the window.

My phone rings, making me jump.

Sheriff Tate’s name appears on the screen.

I answer with more irritation than necessary. “Please tell me you’re calling because Eagle River has been invaded and you need me to come to work.”

“That depends. Would you prefer an invasion to cleaning out your mother’s house?”

“Today? Maybe.”

His voice softens. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine.”

“You always say that when you aren’t.”

“Then stop asking.”

He sighs.

Sheriff Tate has been sheriff in Eagle River for as long as I can remember. He has the exhausted patience of a man who has spent decades supervising stubborn deputies—and knowing half the town since they were in diapers.

“I need you to stop by the office when you’re finished,” he says. “Something came for you.”

“What kind of something?”

“An envelope. No return address.”

“Open it.”

“I already did.”

The hesitation in his voice makes the hair rise on the back of my neck.

“What’s inside?”

“A photograph.”

I glance toward the staircase.

Grant’s journal is still lying on the bed upstairs.

“A photograph of what?”

“You.”

Every muscle in my body goes rigid.