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“Don’t know why he gave up the position, he’s more involved now than ever before. Honestly, he seems happier for it if you ask me, now that everything has been worked out with his mates,” Cage said.

“Hey, has he been in here with anyone lately?” Rusty asked.

“Just his mates.”

“Huh?” Rusty asked.

“The only time I see Brooks in here is when he’s with Lucien and JD,” Atlas replied. “He doesn’t drop in to check on things the way he used to. I take it as a compliment that he trusts that I’ve got everything in hand.”

“No, I meant Flame,” Rusty replied, “have you seen him hanging around with anyone when he drops in here.”

“Honestly, your brother hasn’t hung around the bar in months,” Atlas said. “He’s one of the few customers I don’t mind losing. He was drinking too much. The only time he stops in now is for takeout.”

“Is it always family sized or was this the first time?” Rusty asked.

“Nope, always family-sized with biscuits and all the sides,” Atlas declared. “He usually picks up cider to go with it, but this time he said he had drinks covered. Fucker had gotten his hands on some of Karl Eastman’s new sparkling grape cider and took a moment to rub it in my face, now that I think about it. I’m gonna have a word with Karl. He told me there wouldn’t be any available until next week.”

“Always cider, never beer or anything heavier?” Rusty asked.

“Yeah.”

Rubbing his chin, Rusty scowled and thought back to the conversation he and his brother had about their folks and all the fighting that had gone on in their house while they’d been growing up. The woods had become their refuge, but when that wasn’t enough, there was one place where they knew they’d always be welcome. It had become a second home, not just for them, but for several of their cousins over the years, a few of whom still lived out their days with their grandparents.

“I think I know where Flame went last night,” Rusty said as he turned to Cage.

“Yeah? Where?”

“Our grandparent’s place. They don’t allow anything harder than cider out there. I’ll bet he asked for that tip about the turkeys to help some of our cousins out,” Rusty said. “Doesn’t explain why the hell he didn’t show up at work this morning, but at least it gives us a potential starting point.”

“Then let’s move,” Cage said. “We’ll fill the others in once we have something other than a hunch.”

“Thanks, Atlas,” Rusty said as they took off back to the snowmobiles.

“Okay, I’m officially worried,” Cage admitted as we got on them.

“Same.”

“Be straight with me, what are we riding into?” he asked. “Are things good with you and your grandparents and the rest of the family out there, or is there going to be an issue when we pull up?”

“We’re good. I don’t see them as often as I should, what with the pups and all, but that’s my fault, not theirs,” Rusty explained. “When shit would get loud and crazy at home, that’s where Flame and I always went. They’re our mother’s folks. Most of the cousins out there are Aunt Bonny’s kids.”

“Gotcha.”

They headed east out of town, then veered south, towards the original borderlands. When Comet Lake was founded, there weren’t enough wolves to hold the large territory they had now. Wolves who wished to live apart from their neighbors simply built along the creek, where the berry bushes were thick and there were plenty of fish. As the town had grown, many wolves had elected to move closer to it, while some stayed in the borderlands, like Rusty’s mother’s family, had remained on the land they originally claimed. At night the trails were narrow and treacherous. If Flame had misjudged a turn…

Rusty didn’t want to think about that right now. He just kept his eyes open, trying to skim the sides of the trails for signs that someone had gone off, while navigating the twisting path that meandered along the high side of the tree-covered creek bank.

The sound of an air horn jarred him, and he glanced over his shoulder to see that Cage had stopped ten feet behind him and was swinging his leg over the side of the snowmobile to dismount. There was no room to turn around here, so Rusty killed the engine on his and left the snowmobile in the middle of the trail so he could walk back and see what had caught Cage’s attention. By the time he reached him, Cage had taken his helmet off, so Rusty did the same.

“There’s something red down there,” Cage said as he set the helmet on the seat of the snowmobile. “I can’t tell what it is, but it was bright enough to catch my attention.”

Rusty peered where Cage pointed, squinting against the glare bouncing off the snowy branches, to see something red resting against a tree trunk.

“What the hell?” Rusty muttered as he placed his helmet beside Cage’s.

Cage cracked his neck and stepped off the trail. “Let’s go check it out.”

“Hey, there are tracks over there,” Rusty said, pointing off to the left, toward a bend in the creek.