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"Now I'm going to speed it up a little."She clicked on fast-forward and the prostitute appeared to comically teeter from truck to truck on high heels.

One by one, she sidled up to the driver's side of each vehicle and apparently knocked on the doors. The second driver flashed on his lights, saw who was out there, and turned them off again.

He splits his time between Cheyenne and his ranch in Wyoming.

CHAPTER 1"THE TRAP IS SET and he's on his way," Cassie Dewell said to Sheriff Jon Kirkbride. She shed the fleece in a chair and quickly advanced around the desk, and he rolled his chair back to accommodate her.

She was out of breath from mounting the stairs to the third floor instead of waiting for the elevator. She was also hot and she peeled off her Bakken County Sheriff's Department fleece."You're sure it's him? She reached across him to toggle the space key on the keyboard to wake his computer up.

Kirkbride leaned back from his desk and cocked an eyebrow. "She said, "I sent you a video link in an e-mail five minutes ago."He frowned. She was aware that her hip was pressed against his right shoulder but she didn't care. Cassie had left the first set of footprints in the frost across the still-green grass of the Law Enforcement Center that morning.

In the harsh half-light her pencil-like legs looked as white as chalk.

She vanished in the shadows between the trucks for a moment.

Kirkbride had been the sheriff when Grimstad had 8,000 residents and was losing population every year.

The demographics of western North Dakota at that time were a mix of German and Scandinavian farmers and a few Scot ranchers.

Before the prostitute could approach the side of the third truck someone — either a wife or companion driver — apparently saw the prostitute coming and unfurled a brassiere out the driver's side window and pinned it in place by rolling the window back up."That means, 'Beat it, lot lizard, there's a woman at home,'" Cassie explained."Gotcha.""Three refusals," Cassie said.

"But now watch."The prostitute moved parallel to the front bumper of the truck with the bra in the window and turned and walked between the third and fourth trucks.

Kyle's grandmother begs Cassie to find him and, with nothing else to do, Cassie agrees—all the while hunting the truck driver. And in the same way that two streams converge into a river, Kyle's disappearance may have a more sinister meaning than anyone realizes.

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