Roaming Wild (Steele Ridge Book 6)

by Tracey Devlyn

  Dylan seemed altered. Hard, determined lines shaped his face, and his focus contained a laser’s edge. If he had to put a finger on it, he would say his brother had been forced to grow up in a short period of time.

  Once they were headed west on Main, Deke asked, “Where are we going?”

  “A storage shed, five to seven miles outside town.” Dylan clawed at the tough plastic wrapped around the salami. “Can this hunk of metal go any faster?”

  Deke accelerated until the speedometer hit seventy. He held out his Leatherman tool.

  “Thanks.” Dylan snapped open the largest blade and sliced down the side of the package. He made to take a big bite.

  “Keep ‘em small, Dylan, or you’ll regret it.”

  For once, his kid brother listened and cut a thin slice to eat. He chewed the meat slowly, watching the blackened landscape buzz by.

  “Aren’t you going to ask me if I killed Gracie Gilbert?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “You’re a lot of things, Dylan, but not a murderer.”

  “Maybe I lost my head and did the unthinkable.”

  “Do you want me to believe you’re a cold-blooded killer?”

  “No!”

  “Then why are you going down this stupid ass path?”

  “I’m just surprised you don’t think the worst.”

  “Don’t put this on me. Decision after bad decision, you’ve thrown your life deeper into the toilet and then you wonder why people might think the worst. Own your own shit, Dylan.”

  “Forget it. Pull over and I’ll walk the rest of the way.”

  “Another bad decision?”

  Dylan huffed out a breath and threw another sliver of meat into his mouth.

  “What’s so important at this building that I have to break a dozen laws to get there?”

  “Cubs.”

  “Are you really going to stretch out this conversation with one-word answers? I’m trying to go with the flow on this. But you seem determined to piss me off more than I already am.”

  “Bear cubs. They’ve been locked up as long as me. I want to put something into their bellies before I go kill the nutcase who caged me.”

  Rage burned through his veins. “Who caged you?”

  His brother sent him a guarded look. “I’m not telling you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you’ll play big brother and get yourself thrown in jail. I won’t have that eating at my conscience, too. I’ll take care of this.”

  “Was it Eli Harwood?”

  Dylan’s eyes rounded.

  “Rat-faced sonofabitch. I’m going to rip his arms off and shove ’em down his throat for dinner.”

  “No! I’ll avenge myself in my own way. I don’t need your help.”

  “I didn’t mean that literally. Well, I did, but I know better. I have resources that will make him regret laying a finger on you.”

  “The whole damn family trafficks in wildlife,” Dylan said. “The warehouse is full of animals and animal parts.”

  “What were you doing there?”

  “Following their trail.” Dylan gave him a sideways glance. “Harwood knows you’re a special agent.”

  So Harwood’s mole at headquarters had spewed everything to the poacher.

  “What are you talking about?” He tried to cut a convincing tone.

  “I’ve always suspected something was up with you. Always deflecting my questions. If not for your secrets, I might have been able to forgive you for leaving me—Rockton—behind.”

  After almost a decade of keeping the words behind his teeth, Deke’s confession came out rusty and jagged and angry. “I hate what this job has done to my family. If y’all hadn’t been so damn hardheaded about me working for the Service, I could’ve found a balance. But y’all disowned me like I was a fucking stranger. So I became one.”

  “Not so fast. The turn’s coming up.”

  A slow burn crept up his neck at his brother’s indifference. Years of bloody baggage strewn out in the open and now…nothing. Nada. Zip.

  “Make a right turn.”

  He ignored the command and continued west.

  “What are you doing? You should’ve turned back there.”

  As soon as the gravel drive came into view, a switch had flicked in his mind and all the emotional crud faded to the background. “Doing it right.”

  “But—”

  Deke made a slashing motion with his hand. “Have I ever failed you?”

  His brother’s eyes narrowed.

  “Let me rephrase.” He made a u-ey at the next intersection. “When it came to getting those I love out of trouble, have I ever failed?”

  Dylan looked away. “No.”

  “You’re gonna have to trust me not to this time.” He tossed his phone to Dylan. “Call Mom. She’s worried.”

  “Did she have a vision? Is that how you found me?”

  “Yes.”

  “She must’ve been really worried to seek you out.”

  “Anything for her baby boy.”

  “At least someone loved me best.”

  “Everyone loved you best.”

  “Only after you went to work for the enemy.”

  “Oh, for the love of—”

  “Chill. I was joking.”

  “What are we up against? Any of Harwood’s people at the building? Or just starving cubs?”

  “When I left, just the cubs. Fucking Eli killed one of them.”

  He pulled off the side of the road, not far from the gravel drive leading to the cubs. “Call Mom.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Checking my supplies.”

  “What kind of supplies?”

  “Make the damn call. I’ll be back in a second.”

  He sorted through his keys until he found the one that unlocked the sideload cargo box. Locating the small flashlight he always kept inside, he shone the beam on his stash of weapons and ammo. In addition to the sidearm he already carried, he added an ankle gun, a forearm knife, and a flashbang, for kicks.

  He stopped taking chances years ago. Just because something appeared or sounded benign, didn’t mean it was.

  Jumping back into his truck, he asked, “Did you get a hold of her?”

  “Yeah.” Dylan’s attention dropped down to Deke’s waist. “Expecting some kind of war?”

  “I like to be prepared.” He gave his brother a once-over. “How’re you holding up?”

  “My stomach no longer feels like it’s trying to eat itself inside out.”

  His truck climbed onto the road again. Once he pulled onto the gravel drive, he flipped off the lights and waited for his night vision to kick in.

  When they approached large metal building, all seemed quiet. Normal. From the outside, no one would suspect that a man had been caged and left to starve inside. The thought of Dylan being treated with such cruelty made his stomach convulse.

  He drove around to the back, using the building as a shield. A fine sheen of sweat glistened on his brother’s brow. His inclination was to order him to stay put, but something told him that Dylan needed to go back inside. To help the cubs, yes. Though he thought his brother’s drive went much deeper. Down to his essence. The essence every man battles—to control his own destiny, no matter its size or breadth.

  “You got this?” he asked.

  “What’s to worry about with a real life G.I. Joe by my side?”

  “If any surprises meet us inside, I want you to get behind me. No arguments and no male pride. Agreed?”

  “You gonna take a bullet for me?”

  “Always, bro.” He reached down between Dylan’s legs and grabbed the milk, knowing his brother’s strength still wasn’t up to snuff. An eight-pound torpedo could drop the best of them. “Let’s go.”

  Drawing his weapon, he followed Dylan to a side door and motioned for him to stand back.

  Dylan held up a hand and whispered, “I overheard Caleb and Eli talking before t
hey took me prisoner. Eli killed Gracie and arranged things to make it look like I was the murderer.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ll explain later. Wanted you to know these guys are more ruthless than an average trafficker.”

  Nodding, he slipped inside the building. The scent of urine and excrement hit him first. Then a fainter, more pungent odor of death crept into his senses. He braced himself for the sight of the dead bear cub. He never got used to seeing the atrocities man inflicted on wildlife. He hoped he never did.

  A soft keening cry emitted from the center of the building. He focused his beam in that direction and found two pair of glowing eyes staring back. “Be back in a second. Stay strong.”

  After making a sweep of the building, he returned for Dylan, happy to see he’d obeyed his command. He handed his brother a flashlight. “Keep the overhead lights off, in case your friends return.”

  Dylan once again took the lead, dropping to his knees by the too small crate housing the cubs. “Hey, Moe and Larry. I told you I’d return.”

  “Where’s the dead cub?”

  “There’s a wooden crate in the back. I put Curly in there.” Dylan peeled the oranges and tossed one to each of the cubs. “Find me something for the milk.”

  Sweeping his light beam back and forth, Deke searched for a container. Now that he wasn’t hunting for bad guys, he allowed his gaze to explore the multitude of containers and jars on display. Gall bladders, paws, pelts, claws, antlers, snakes, salamanders, and more.

  Disgust roiled in his stomach at the needless loss of life—and freedom.

  He found an oval plastic bucket that would work for the milk.

  “Remember, feed them a small amount at a time.”

  While Dylan took care of the cubs, he tried to call two different Service wildlife biologists, but neither answered their phones. So he called the next best thing.

  “Hey, Britt. Sorry to call so late. If it wasn’t an emergency, I wouldn’t have bothered you.”

  “What do you need?”

  “Are you able to transport and shelter two black bear cubs? Both are approximately six months old.”

  “Not a problem. Where are you?”

  “Creede. I’ll send you my GPS coordinates.”

  “On my way.”

  “Britt?”

  “Yeah?”

  “The cubs are in a poacher’s storage shed. There’s a possibility the owner might return.”

  “I’ll grab Reid. We’ll be there in an hour.”

  “Make it thirty minutes.”

  41

  Eli readjusted his position against the post. He’d been standing in the shadows for hours, waiting, watching, biding his time. Unlike his brother Caleb, Eli could stand in one place for hours and not get exhausted or lose patience.

  Getting a lead on Evie Steele’s whereabouts had taken more physical effort than he’d expected, and his injured body was rebelling against the exertion.

  Rita Sampson had been a tough old tigress. When he’d started questioning her about the BBQ she’d organized for the Med Mobile, she’d sensed the danger he posed to Evie. Her intuition about his intentions was puzzling. But he didn’t have time to work it out.

  The old woman had finally cracked—Eli closed his eyes—quite a few times.

  His attention resettled on the two RVs parked at the back of the pharmacy lot. A quick check on the Med Mobile’s website was all it had taken to find Evie Steele.

  He flinched as another searing flame shot up his spine. Sweat broke out, sheening his flesh. Evie would patch him up before he killed her. Then he’d burn her and her traveling clinic to the ground.

  42

  Evie bit into the cold milk chocolate and released a contented sigh. After Deke had dumped her at the Med Mobile, she’d waited for him to leave before heading toward the only thing that could soothe her feelings at a time like this.

  Vanilla ice cream cone dipped in chocolate.

  The good Lord couldn’t have made a more perfect treat. She jumped back as ice cream dribbled down the side of her cone, narrowly missing her leg. Her tongue lapped up the rogue ice cream, and she decided it was time to make short work of the remaining chocolate.

  Quite a few other people’d had the same idea. It’d taken her nearly thirty minutes to get through the line, only to learn they were out of toffee pieces. She hoped Lisa liked the Chunky Monkey milkshake instead. If not, she could switch with Rachel’s cup of cookie dough ice cream.

  The moon cast a soft, silvery glow over the lot, lighting her way. Deke had better not find out about her little side trip. Like her overprotective brothers, he’d lecture her until his lips turned bloody for walking alone at night by herself.

  The lot wasn’t a big one, yet it wasn’t small either. It took her a couple minutes to traverse the distance. About halfway across, the hair on the back of her neck prickled to life. She glanced around, checking the area for the source of her unease.

  Nothing looked out of place, except one of the lot lamppost’s had burned out. Unable to shake her unease, she quickened her pace.

  Her senses sharpened with each step. Something was watching her. Maybe a feral cat or coyote that had wandered into town. She made another visual sweep, and her attention caught on the lamppost again.

  The lower part, near the base, appeared misshapen. Her focus narrowed. Was that a bush? No. An animal? N-nno. A person? She squinted harder, and the shadow shifted. Rose. Moved toward her.

  Her breath refused to exhale. Her feet stayed cemented to the ground. Not until cold ice cream dripped on her knuckles did everything start working. She didn’t exactly run, but imagined her feet looked like one of those colorful pinwheels spinning in the wind.

  Light radiated from both RVs. She made a quick decision and bolted toward the staff RV. Hooking the carry carton over her thumb, she pulled the latch. Locked.

  Glancing behind her, she spotted the human shadow advancing her way. Faster. She tried the handle again. Door didn’t budge.

  She pounded the door. “Lisa, it’s me, Evie. Open up.”

  Footsteps pounded within the RV. She peered over her shoulder. With a ball cap covering his hair and pulled low over his forehead, she couldn’t make out the person’s face. A strange familiarity crept along the edge of her memory.

  The door opened, and she scrambled inside.

  “What on earth is going on?” Lisa asked.

  She pushed the carry carton into Lisa’s hands and then flipped the lock. Pressing her ear against the door, she waited. Hearing anything over the pounding of her heart was impossible so she gave up and looked out the window.

  The guy stood facing the RV, about thirty away, his body stone cold still.

  She backed away, and the flimsy curtain swished into place.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Lisa asked.

  She pointed her cone at the window. “Someone’s following me.”

  “What?” Lisa marched over and glared outside. “Where is he? I don’t see anyone.”

  Rushing to Lisa’s side, she scanned the parking lot. Empty.

  Had she imagined the spooky man? No way. He’d been real.

  Maybe he’d needed medical attention. If so, why hadn’t he called out to her?

  No, something had been off with him. Familiar. She couldn’t pinpoint what, but it was right there on the tip of her tongue, doing the macarena.

  “He’s gone.” Straightening, she paced away. Her mind ran through dozens of images, contacts she’d made, searching for a name, a face, a place. Place. Place.

  The landing. At Deke’s apartment.

  Creepy Guy equaled Spooky Guy. Oh, Lord.

  “Let me have this.” Lisa peeled the soggy cone from her hand and tossed it into the garbage. She ushered her over to the small utility sink and turned on the water. “Rinse.”

  She obeyed the command, her mind cataloging her next moves. Creepy Guy’s appearance couldn’t be a coincidence. What did he want with her? With Deke?

&nbs
p; “I need to make a phone call.”

  “You’re starting to scare me.”

  The tremble in Lisa’s voice acted as a balm to her simmering fear. Nurse Evelyn Steele kicked into gear.

  “I’m sorry, Lisa. It’s probably nothing.”

  “A man following you isn’t nothing.”

  “He might have just been cutting through the parking lot.” An image of Creepy Guy standing outside the RV, watching them, sent her pulse racing again.

  “Don’t blow smoke up my scrubs. You know the difference between someone taking a shortcut and someone acting like a weirdo.”

  “Where’s Rachel?”

  “In the Med Mobile. She wanted to do a bit more prep. We’re headed out early tomorrow.”

  “Headaches still under control?”

  Lisa dug into her pant pocket and drew out a small, oval white pill. “As long as I take this little beauty at the onset of a migraine, I can function like a normal human being. It’s been life-changing. I don’t have to live in constant fear of debilitating pain, anymore.”

  “Can you tell the difference between the start of a regular headache and a migraine?”

  “Oh, yeah. I can’t describe it, but I definitely know one from the other.”

  “Glad to hear it.” Evie adjusted the shoulder strap crossing her body in order to grab her phone. “I don’t ever want you to go through something like that again.”

  “You and me both—”

  A window shattered toward the front of the RV.

  She hurried forward. Flames licked over the driver’s seat. “Fire! Do we have an extinguisher?”

  “In the back. I’ll get it.”

  Whipping around, Evie searched for something to smother the flames. Desperate, she grabbed a sofa cushion and smacked it against the flames.

  A blast of hot, ember-ridden air shot toward her, forcing her away.

  More glass shattered in the back. “Lisa, are you okay?”

  “Someone threw a fire bomb into the window.”

  “Can you get to the extinguisher?”

  “Not anymore. Flames are inside.”

  “I’m calling 911.” Evie put the phone to her ear and gave the emergency operator their location and told her about the fire bombs.