Lester hadn’t seen the statie in a while. He’d been crystal clear with the big fella to stay in plain view. These woods were pretty unforgiving if you hadn’t spent the better part of your life in them.

He decided to backtrack and see if he could find the man. Officer Taggart was a city slicker, and it seemed pretty clear the man was out of his element around here. Plus, Lester had a bad feeling in his gut about Taggart. It was plain as day that the man had a lot of anger knocking around that head of his. Taggart was a lost soul who thought the bottle would get him out of his life’s worries, and Lester knew that that was a losing battle. Seen it too many times before.

Lester didn’t want to lose much time in tracking Danny, but something told him that there was more to this situation than met the eye. He reached into his pocket for his pack of smokes and felt the robin figurine. He pulled it out and gave it another look. Had to admit, it was a fine piece of work.

He saw some movement in a thicket of woods ahead of him, so Lester dropped the carving into his pocket and headed toward it. Lester’s lower back had tightened up pretty bad, his legs not faring much better. He pushed on anyway. The sun had started to warm up a bit, making the snow soft and slightly more difficult to walk through. He moved past a grouping of pine trees that had trunks the size of his waist and saw Taggart trudging his way through the woods. It was pretty evident that the man wasn’t paying much attention to where he was going—he just tromped along in the snow like a lost child.

Lester approached him and knew immediately he’d been drinking again. Slack face, glazed eyes, uncoordinated movement. “Son, you finish that bottle yet?”

Taggart didn’t look at him. He kept plodding forward, so Lester stepped beside him and matched his stride.

“I’ve been straight with you, Mr. Taggart. I expect the same.”

Taggart finally looked at him. “No. Still got a few drinks left.”

“Look, son—”

Taggart stopped. “Save it, Sheriff. The last thing I need is a morality lesson from you. There’s going to be an investigation into what happened, and I will go down. I’ll lose my badge, my family. Everything. And when that happens, I’m going to implode. It’s been a long time coming, so I can’t think of any reason to stop drinking. Not one.”

Taggart thought about this for a few seconds before giving the man an answer. “Let me just play this out with you.”

“Ain’t a game. Two bodies to prove that.”

Taggart’s own body tensed up, fighting back a growing rage. “I’ll follow your lead. Won’t do anything you tell me not to.”

Lester took off his hat and rubbed at his head. “Just tell me why in the hell you want to keep on with this?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do. It’s still my job to bring in a guilty man.”

“And you think you’re in the right condition to do that? To help me?”

Taggart swayed a bit on his feet. “Yeah, I do.”

Lester sized him up, considering.

“Just let me do one right thing today. Got enough regrets already.”

Lester gave the man a sad look. “A little late to be self-aware now, son. I gave you a second chance already, and you didn’t take it.” Lester returned his hat to its proper place. “I’m sorry for your situation, but I’m sorrier for folks that I have known a helluva long time who are gonna be burying loved ones in the next few days.”

Taggart’s face reddened, but Lester continued. “I don’t trust your judgment. You’re impaired. God knows how much booze you got in your belly. You’re a danger not only to me and my deputy but to yourself. I’ll take it from here.” Lester pointed behind him. “You head in that direction for a mile or so. Try not to drink any more until you get out of these woods. And try to think about your family if you don’t care about yourself. Drinking is a selfish man’s game.”