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assigned to substitute for days in the classroom. Armed with new knowledge, he’d been both insulted on Cam’s behalf and intrigued, since he finally understood his dad’s weird reaction to the way the Reese party of two had bolted that day in March. At first Devin had wanted to go into Eternity Springs with proverbial guns blazing, but after reflection, he’d agreed that some reconnaissance was in order prior to going into battle. The plan for today was to check in to the rental cabin they’d booked under the tour company name, then nose around town a little bit, incognito.
    Cam didn’t expect to be recognized by people in town, so this tension humming through his blood was premature, though not unexpected. Returning to Eternity Springs was the most difficult thing he’d done in years.
    He set his jaw, then turned around and strode toward the Jeep. “Let’s do this.”
    More than twenty years after leaving Eternity Springs in handcuffs and locked in the back of a sheriff’s sedan, Cam Murphy returned to the scene of his crimes.
    He drove slowly up Spruce, the main thoroughfare in town, noting changes and those things that looked the same as he remembered. The tourist center was new, as was a restaurant named—translating from Italian—the Yellow Kitchen. The library and bank hadn’t changed one bit. At the intersection of Spruce and Fourth, he did a double take upon seeing an art gallery named Vistas. An art gallery? In Eternity Springs?
    He turned right onto Fourth and spotted the sign for the Elkhorn Lodge on the next block. The Elkhorn was a grouping of ten 1950s-era freestanding cabins built in a U shape around the perimeter of the large lot. Years ago, the two-story structure in the center had served as both office and home for the manager. That didn’t appear to have changed, but the swimming pool in the center of the U was new.
    Cam didn’t recall ever seeing the interiors of the cabins, but he wasn’t looking for anything fancy. He had chosen to stay at the Elkhorn because the website had advertised cabins equipped with kitchenettes and the best mattresses on the western slope. Considering that he’d brought an Aussie eating machine with him, the kitchen would come in handy, and while Cam could sleep anywhere, his no-longer-young muscles thanked him each morning he climbed from a decent bed.
    He pulled the Jeep into a parking space in front of the office. “I’ll get us registered.”
    “Want me to do it?” Devin asked, his gaze focused on the office door. “I see a rack of brochures inside. I’d like to check them out for market research.”
    For the past year or so, Devin had designed the marketing collateral for Adventures in Paradise, so the claim wasn’t too big of a stretch. Cam didn’t believe him. Devin’s protective antennae were extended and quivering. “They’ll want me to sign a credit card receipt, but you can come in with me if you’d like.”
    Bells sounded as he opened the door to the office and stepped inside. A man about Cam’s own age entered from a back room. Cam tried to place him as the man said, “Welcome to the Elkhorn. How can I help you?”
    The voice helped Cam put a name to the face. Brad Lawson. He’d been a year behind Cam in school. His father had owned the barber shop. “G’day. I have a reservation for two under Adventures in Paradise Tours.”
    Lawson’s wince put Cam on guard. “Hmm. Paradise Tours. Yes. We had cabin number seven reserved for you.”
    “Had?”
    “Don’t worry. We found a place for you. I’m afraid we had a bit of a bear problem in number seven yesterday, and we’re gonna need to do some work before it’s habitable again.”
    “Bear problem?” Devin repeated.
    “I don’t have another unit to put you in—we’re full up, due to the quilt festival—but I called around and found a place for you. A great place.” He beamed with pride. “Instead of two bedrooms, you get an entire house—at the original rate, of course.