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held on as tight as he could to the memory, of every minute of their one and only night together. The Robert Cuffe he had known had been surprisingly funny and disarmingly tender beneath the requisite tough guy facade.
    What had happened to that man?
    He had to still be there because, despite Robert’s accusations, Noel was increasingly confident Robert couldn’t truly believe him guilty of those recent cat burglaries. He was too smart, 50
    Icecapade
    for one thing. No matter how similar the new rash of burglaries was to Noel’s old pattern, there had to be enough differences that there were doubts in Robert’s mind.
    Besides, if he’d come there determined to arrest Noel, he’d have his G-ride. He’d have brought uniformed police officers with him.
    “Maybe if you told me what this is really all about I could help you.”
    “Plea bargaining already?”
    Irritated, Noel turned away and continued to the barn. Robert, perhaps in a show of faith—or perhaps in a show of weariness—waited on the hillside. Inside the barn, Noel grabbed rope and a sheet of canvas and hurried back to the rust colored pickup.
    The three of them squeezed into Francis’s truck with Daisy, his Australian sheepdog. The cab smelled like llama and wet dog. At least, that’s what Noel hoped it smelled like. Hopefully his lack of grooming wasn’t catching up with him.
    As Francis tore down the road and across the snowy pasture, he offered a hand to Robert. “By the way, I’m Francis Rich. I own Hidden Creek Llama Ranch.”
    Robert, eyes not leaving the snowy road—the truck was doing enough of that— briefly shook hands. “Robert Cuffe.”
    “Where do you know Noel from, Robert?”
    Josh Lanyon
    51
    Robert said pleasantly, “I know him from the old days.”
    Noel stared straight ahead, waiting for the rest of it. He was surprised Robert had bothered to be that discreet. Not that it mattered in this case.
    Francis, of course, merely laughed. “Are you one of his old gang? We’re always trying to get Noel to tell us about his ill-gotten glory days.”
    “Were your glory days ill gotten too?” Robert inquired of Noel.
    Noel looked back at him but declined to answer.
    Robert asked, “And how is the old gang?”
    “I wouldn’t know.”
    “No? Well, your old pal Chickie is doing a ten year stretch in Dannemora for grand larceny.”
    Noel shivered. He’d known that was inevitable.
    Mostly he’d worked on his own, but when he used a partner, he used Chick MacEvoy. Chick was one of the best second story men around, but he wasn’t famous for his patience or planning.
    “Yep,” Robert said thoughtfully, and Noel knew they were pressed too close to each other for him to have missed that shiver. “The past has a way of catching up with everyone sooner or later.”
    Chapter Four
    Two llamas stood side by the side on the snowy track, chewing their cud and watching solemnly as sentries as the pickup bumped and ground its way to the side of the road.
    Robert opened the door, grunting as Daisy scrambled over him and jumped out. The men followed, wading through the shin-high snow to the back of the truck.
    On the slight knoll above them stood another shaggy llama. She appeared to be gazing down into the rocks. The weird clucking-humming noise she made carried down the hillside. Frances was making worried clucking noises too. Noel’s eyes met Robert’s and he smiled faintly.
    The other llamas wandered up as Noel lifted the tarp and rope out of the truck bed. They poked their muzzles into Francis’s jacket pockets and he petted them absently.
    “I hope that rope is long enough.”
    Noel stopped. “What do you mean, you hope the rope is long enough? How deep is this crevice?”
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    Francis looked flustered. “Well, it’s…” He spread his hands wide, far above his head.
    “Seriously?” Robert asked of no one in particular.
    “When you said crevice ,” Noel asked, “did you maybe mean crevasse ?”
    “Er…maybe,”