Don’t miss the JOE PICKETT series—now streaming on Paramount+ In this New York Times bestseller, Wyoming game warden Joe Pickett is determined to find out who put his daughter’s life in danger—even if it kills him.   Joe Pickett had good reason to dislike Dallas Cates, and now he has even more—Joe’s eighteen-year-old daughter, April, has run off with him. And then comes even worse news: She has been found in a ditch along the highway—alive, but just barely, the victim of blunt force trauma. Cates denies having anything to do with it, but Joe knows in his gut who’s responsible. What he doesn’t know is the kind of danger he’s about to encounter. Cates is bad enough, but Cates’s family is like none Joe has ever met. Praise for Endangered “All the action and suspense of Box’s long string of high-country adventures. Endangered is one of Joe’s best.”— Kirkus Reviews (starred review)   “Is there a crime-fiction family as fully fleshed out as Joe Pickett’s? In singing the praises of Box’s series, we often praise the plotting, pacing, and the down-to-earth hero’s friendship with force-of-nature Nate Romanowski. But Pickett’s supporting cast lends a continuity and grounding to this series that sets it apart from all the lone-wolf stuff out there. A carefully constructed plot building to a breathless, thrilling end.”— Booklist   “Series fans will love this thriller. The nonstop action, intermingling plotlines, and the return of familiar characters all mesh into a breathless, roller-coaster ride of sheer suspense and entertainment.”— Library Journal   “An edge-of-the-seat thriller. A tightly coiled plot that springs from surprise to surprise.”— South Florida Sun-Sentinel   “Once again, Box delivers a winner. Grade: A.”— Cleveland Plain Dealer More Praise for the C. J. Box and the Joe Pickett novels   “One of today’s solid-gold, A-list, must-read writers.”—Lee Child   “Picking up a new C. J. Box thriller is like spending quality time with family you love and have missed...It’s a rare thriller series that has characters grow and change. An exciting reading experience for both loyal fans as well as newcomers.”—Associated Press   “Box is a master.”— The Denver Post “Box knows what readers expect and delivers it with a flourish.”— Cleveland Plain Dealer   “Wyoming game warden Joe Pickett strides in big boots over the ruggedly gorgeous landscape of C.J. Box's outdoor mysteries.”— The New York Times Book Review   “Riveting...[A] skillfully crafted page-turner.”— People   “Will keep you on the edge of your seat.”— The Philadelphia Enquirer C. J. Box is the author of twenty-five Joe Pickett novels, eight stand-alone novels, and a story collection. He has won the Edgar, Anthony, Macavity, Gumshoe, and two Barry awards, as well as the French Prix Calibre .38, the Western Heritage Award for Literature, and two Spur Awards. An avid outdoorsman, Box has hunted, fished, hiked, ridden, and skied throughout Wyoming and the Mountain West. He has been executive producer on television series based on his books, including ABC TV’s Big Sky and Joe Pickett on Paramount+. 1 When Wyoming game warden Joe Pickett received the call every parent dreads, he was standing knee-high in thick sagebrush, counting the carcasses of sage grouse. He was up to twenty-one. Feathers carpeted the dry soil and clung to the waxy blue-green leaves of the sagebrush within a fifty-foot radius. The air smelled of dust, sage, and blood. It was late morning in mid-March on a vast brush-covered flat managed by the federal Bureau of Land Management. There wasn’t a single tree for eighteen miles to the west on the BLM land until the rolling hills rocked back on their heels and began their sharp ascent into the snow-covered Bighorn Mountains, which were managed by the U.S. Forest Service. The summits of the mountains were obscured by a sudden late-season snowstorm, and the sky was leaden and close. Joe’s green Game and Fish Ford pickup straddled the ancient two-track road that had brought him up there, the engine idling and the front driver’s door still open from when he’d leapt out. His yellow Labrador, Daisy, was trembling in the bed of the truck, her front paws poised on the top of the bed wall as she stared out at the expanse of land. Twin strings of drool hung from her mouth. She smelled the carnage out on the flat, and she wanted to be a part of it. “Stay,” Joe commanded. Daisy moaned, reset her paws, and trembled some more. Joe wore his red uniform shirt with the pronghorn patch on the sleeve, Wrangler jeans, cowboy boots, and a Filson vest against the chill. His worn gray Stetson was clamped on tight. A rarely drawn .40 Glock semiauto was on his hip. Twenty-one dead sage grouse. In his youth, everyone called them “prairie chickens,” and he knew the young ones were good to eat when roasted because they’d been a staple in his poverty-filled college days. They were odd birds: chicken-sized, pear-sh