Snowblind Justice. Cindi Myers

didn’t really know them.” She stopped and bent to run her hand down Witchy’s leg, feeling for any warmth or swelling or sign of inflammation. “They both signed up as volunteers for research we were doing. Lots of students do. Most of the studies only pay five to ten dollars, but the work isn’t hard and cash is cash to a broke student.”

      “What kind of research?” Brodie asked.

      She straightened and looked him in the eye. She loved her work and could talk about it with almost anyone. If she talked long enough, maybe he’d get bored and leave. “I’m studying behavioral economics. It’s sort of a melding of traditional psychology and economics. We look at how people make the buying decisions they make and why. Almost every choice has a price attached to it, and it can be interesting what motivates people to act one way versus another.”

      “How did Alex and Tim hear about your experiments?”

      “We have flyers all over campus, and on social media.” She shrugged. “They were both psychology majors, so I think the research appealed to them. I ran into Alex in a coffee shop on campus two days later and he had a lot of intelligent questions about what we were doing.”

      “Maybe he had studied so he’d have questions prepared so he could keep you talking,” Brodie said. “Maybe he was flirting with you.”

      “Oh, please.” She didn’t hide her scorn for this idea. “He was not flirting. If anything, he was showing off.”

      One eyebrow rose a scant quarter inch—enough to make him look even cockier than usual. “Showing off is some men’s idea of flirting.”

      “You would know about that, wouldn’t you?”

      His wicked grin sent a current of heat through her. “When you’re good, it’s not showing off,” he said.

      She wished she was the kind of woman who had a snappy comeback for a line like that, but it was taking all her concentration to avoid letting him see he was getting to her. So instead of continuing to flirt, she started forward with the horse once more and changed the subject. “Are you going to be able to help Travis catch the Ice Cold Killer?” she asked.

      Brodie’s expression sobered. Yes, nothing like a serial murderer to dampen the libido. “I’m going to do my best,” he said. “We know who we’re looking for now—we just have to find him.”

      She managed not to stumble this time, but she did turn to look at him. “You know who the killer is?”

      He frowned. “Travis didn’t tell you?”

      “I haven’t seen Travis in several days. He’s either working or spending time with Lacy. He told me on the phone that one of the men he thought was involved is dead, but that there was another one he was after.”

      Brodie said nothing.

      She stopped and faced him. “Tell me who it is,” she said. “You know I won’t go talking to the press.”

      “The man who died was Tim Dawson,” Brodie said.

      All the breath went out of her as this news registered. “Then the other man is Alex Woodruff.” She grabbed his arm. “That’s why you were asking me about him. But he and Tim left town when the road opened briefly a couple of weeks ago. Travis said so.”

      “They moved out of the cabin where they were staying, but now Travis believes they stayed in the area. If you have any idea where Alex might be hiding, or what he’s likely to do next, you need to tell me.” She released her hold on him and stepped back, the mare’s warm bulk reassuring. If her suddenly weak legs gave out, she’d have the animal to grab on to. “I hardly know him,” she said. “But a serial killer? Why would a smart, good-looking guy from a well-off family want to murder a bunch of women he doesn’t even know?” And how could she have spent time with Alex and Tim and not seen that kind of evil in them?

      “You’re more likely to have an answer for that than I do,” Brodie said. “You’re conducting a lot of research on human behavior and motivation. Didn’t you do one study on what motivates people to break rules or to cheat?”

      “What did you do—run a background check on me? That’s creepy.”

      “All I did was look at your public Facebook page,” he said. “And there’s nothing creepy about it. I knew I was coming here and I wanted to see how you were doing—as a friend. I guess you never did the same for me.”

      She couldn’t keep color from flooding her cheeks. She had, in fact, perused Brodie’s Facebook page more than once, as well as Googling his name for tidbits of information. Not because she still felt anything for him, simply because she was curious. “All right,” she said. “As long as you’re not being a creep.”

      “Such technical language from a psychologist.”

      “Behavioral economics is different,” she said. “There’s psychology involved, of course, but nothing that would give me insight into the mind of a serial killer.”

      “I think you’re wrong,” he said. “I think you probably can tell us things we don’t know about Alex Woodruff. You’ve always been smart about people.”

      I wasn’t smart about you. She bit her lip to hold back the words. “I’m sure the CBI has profilers who specialize in this kind of thing,” she said.

      “Yes, but they don’t know Alex, and they don’t know Eagle Mountain. You do.”

      She searched his face, trying to read his expression. He was focused on her in that intense way he had—a way that made her feel like she was the only person in the world he wanted to be with right this second. “What do you want from me?” she asked.

      “I want you to think about Alex, and about this area, and see if you can come up with any ideas that might help us.”

      She shook her head. “I think you’re grasping at straws. You need to consult a professional.”

      “We will. You’re just another avenue for us to explore. You never know in a case like this what might be the key to a solution.”

      “Does Travis know you’re asking me to help?”

      “No, but I can’t see why he’d object. I’m not asking you to do anything dangerous.”

      She nodded. “All right. I don’t think it will do any good, but I’ll think about it and see what I can come up with.”

      He clapped her on the shoulder. “Thanks. I knew I could count on you.”

      How had he known he could count on her? But she couldn’t ask the question. He was already striding out of the arena, his boots making neat prints in the raked dirt.

      Brodie had to know she would do anything to help her brother. If Travis had asked her for help with the case, she wouldn’t have hesitated. That she was less willing to cooperate with Brodie probably said more about her feelings for him than she cared to admit.

      Never mind. She would try to come up with some ideas about Alex and—with her help or not—Travis and Brodie would catch him and put him in jail for a long time.

      Then she could go back to her normal life, with no serial killers—and no former lovers—to unsettle her.

      “YOUR SISTER HAS agreed to serve as a consultant on the case.”

      Travis was so even-keeled and unemotional that Brodie considered it a personal challenge to attempt to get a reaction from him. He’d scored a hit with this announcement.

      Travis looked up from the file he’d been studying, eyes sparking with annoyance. “What could Emily possibly contribute to the case?” he asked.

      Brodie moved out of the doorway where he’d been standing and dropped into one of the two