Chapter 97

They decided to begin just outside of Presque Isle, not far from Darrell Franklin's fish camp. So much of northern Aroostook County was raw, undeveloped land, dotted with tiny hamlets of very few people and precise squares of uninhabited tax parcels.

One of the snowmobile trails began about a half mile from Franklin's, at an open parking area that thankfully had been recently plowed. They unloaded the snowmobiles then looked at the map Sophia opened and spread out on the hood of one of the machines.

"We'll have to crisscross," she said, tracing red lines with her fingers. "And there's only so much area we can cover today." She slid a glance at Logan. "Unless we split up."