by Christa Wick
“It’s settled then,” I said, nodding at Kostya. “Let Sam drive the crew truck and you drop mine off at my mother’s. Sam can follow you and take you the rest of the way home.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
I took the carcass and flashlight from Ashley and nodded goodbye to the men. Leading the way downhill, I picked out the easiest path I could find in the dark with the help of the wide beam.
“You don’t have security on the machines?” she asked as I waited for her to catch up with me.
“Sure I do.” Switching the flashlight to my other hand, I reached out and slid the case off her shoulder and onto mine so that I was carrying both the fox and her kit. “We set up cameras. They managed to take out almost all of them. What was left didn’t show anything. This is professional vandalism if you ask me.”
Reaching a rock ledge, I stopped and let the light’s beam play along the ground ahead of us. I already had my route picked, but I knew going down would be a lot harder for her leg than a level path. As I had hoped, she took a seat on the ledge while I continued stalling.
“I put another set up all by myself after everyone left and made sure to camouflage them.” The words rumbled in my chest, the day’s frustration rising up as if I was experiencing the tree falling all over again, my heart stopping when I heard the screech of tires. “Of course, I had the cameras pointed at the equipment. The trees were sabotaged lower down the hill.”
“I see,” Ashley murmured, the soft, contemplative tone turning my insides into mush. “How long are you going to pretend you’re still selecting our path down?”
I turned my head and let the shadows eat my smile.
“Not what I was doing,” I fibbed. Pointing the flashlight to my right, I ran the beam down the line the fallen tree had gouged in the earth. The velocity and weight had pushed everything to the side, leaving a slightly cushioned padding of rich black soil.
“Follow me.”
Ashley picked her way after me, pausing only when I stopped to point out a protruding root or similar obstacle the flashlight had missed on my initial survey. Reaching the road, she clicked her key fob, the headlights illuminating the rest of our walk.
“Don’t even think about driving,” she chuckled, opening the back of the Jeep so I could put away the body bag and case.
“Your truck, your rules,” I agreed—right up to the point I reached the driver side door first and held it open for her.
Snorting, Ashley climbed up and waited for me to slide in on the passenger side before she started the engine. The Jeep growled itself awake as she shifted into drive and made a tight turn to point the vehicle in the direction of Willow Gap.
“May I?” I asked, pointing at the built-in navigation panel on the dashboard. “Mama’s place is west of town.”
“Sure.” With her right hand on the wheel, she rooted around behind her seat with the left, coming up with two protein bars. She offered me one.
“I’ll hold off,” I said, finished inputting the address to Mama's ranch house. “You might want to leave some room. Mama’s cooking is always delicious, but on a day like today, even her leftovers are heaven.”
“I don’t want to put her out.”
Turning in my seat, I studied Ashley’s face by the glow of the dashboard. I had little opportunity to do so on our return from Lewis & Clark to the job site because my eyes had to stay on the road—mostly. But now I could pretty much cast all the surreptitious, and occasionally blatant, looks I wanted.
Even with the fox carcass in the back of the vehicle, my body couldn't stop responding. Contemplating her full lips brought my cock to an aching attention that I would have to deal with once I was alone.
“You don’t want to get her nose out of joint by refusing,” I prodded. “I’ll text her now and give her a heads up. We’ll need to make a quick stop by the stables to drop off the fox.”
The fact that Ashley only nodded suggested she was aware of my watching her. I shifted in my seat to look out the window instead. After a while, I closed my eyes and contented myself with the smell of wildflowers.
Opening my eyes again, I realized I had fallen asleep when I saw the faint glow of the perimeter lights around the stable. I tried to process the fact that I had been comfortable enough with Ashley to doze off, but the idea dredged up memories I didn’t want to deal with at that moment. From childhood, the only person I would let drive while I slept was my father.
Daddy had died half a year earlier. The same wreck claimed the life of Dawn, my baby sister and the only girl among our parents’ six children. The deaths had been hard on the family. The aftermath had threatened further loss that only recently settled down.
“You okay?” Ashley asked, pulling to a stop.
I rummaged up a smile, my throat too tight to answer right away. After a rough swallow, I nodded.
“At least I will be when I get some home cooking in me.” Taking off my seatbelt, I opened the door. “I’ll fetch the fox then show you the set-up we had for Deacon.”
Ashley followed after me, closing the rear door once I had the body bag out. I led her past the stalls and equipment area to a windowless room. I turned the light on and she grunted.
“There are six freezers in here. And they all have locks on them,” she mused. “Care to explain?”
“First five are bull and stallion seed,” I answered, leaving it to her imagination to fill in the details. “Last one is reserved for you. Key is always in the lock unless it’s in your pocket.”
Reaching the freezer, I waited while she twisted the key and lifted the lid.
“There’s always someone on shift.” With the carcass deposited, I pulled out my wallet and shifted through the business cards. I handed her one for the ranch and pointed out the bottom number. “That’s the night line. Just give a call if you’re heading in so you don’t have twenty men running out of the bunkhouse with their rifles.”
She slid the card into her wallet. “Thank you.”
“Family has always tried to give back to the land.” Leading Ashley out of the freezer room, I turned the light off. “Keeping poachers and idiots from ruining resources is part of that.”
She stopped and turned to face me, her smile on high beam. “Really, thank you. After California, it’s really refreshing to know there will be a few friendly faces on my routes.”
Gulping, I nodded, felt the slow flush of my cheeks and hurried past before she could catch me blushing.
It wasn’t completely about giving back to the land, after all. Not with the way I felt every time I looked at the woman.
4
Ashley
Entering the kitchen at oh-six-hundred, I found myself face-to-face with a dark-haired beauty dressed in the uniform of the Elkhead county sheriff’s department, minus a firearm on her utility belt. The woman had her hands wrapped snugly around a warm mug of coffee or some other hot drink, her glossy red lips pursed and blowing at the steam rising up.
“Morning, Agent Callahan,” Lindy Turk called as she pulled a tray of hot biscuits from the oven.
“Good morning and, please, Ashley or Ash is fine.” Turning to the woman in uniform, I extended my hand as I glanced at the name tag. “Deputy…Turk.”
Okay, that was odd. Walker had mentioned a brother in the FBI, but not a family member in the sheriff’s office.
“Siobhan, and I’m only ‘Deputy Trainee,’” the woman volunteered, accepting the offered hand and giving it a firm yet comfortable squeeze. “Additionally, I am not married to any of Aunt Lindy’s meathead boys. I’m their cousin.”
“Okay,” I said, the word stretching far beyond the four letters as I tried to figure out the reason, if any, behind the deputy trainee’s clarification.
“I like to make that explicitly known to any eligible bachelorettes,” Siobhan put in after another sip. “Let’s them know they have a clear field and avoids unnecessary catfights.”
“I’m not…” I couldn’t bring myself to address the wo
man’s statement.
I hadn’t taken a promotion and moved all the way to Montana to find a husband. Between my overdeveloped work ethic, excess curves and reclusive personality, there was nothing “eligible” about me.
“Here,” Lindy said, offering a welcome distraction as she finished filling another mug. “You said last night that you take it black, but it’s extra strong to get this crew running in the morning. So there’s cream in the refrigerator and a sugar bowl on the counter to your left if needed. And ignore my niece, at least when she’s talking about her cousins—or her brothers.”
Taking a seat and crossing her legs, Siobhan picked at a speck on her uniform pants. “Face it, Aunt Lindy, your boys aren’t getting any younger. We still need to marry off four of them.”
“A toddler is more subtle than you,” Lindy scolded, pulling out a plate from the cupboard and handing it to me. “There’s bacon and sausage under the first platter, scrambled eggs under the second. Hot biscuits on the table and honey next to the sugar. That tureen there is sausage gravy. Dig in.”
Putting my coffee down, I began to fill a plate, my attention laser focused on the food in case Siobhan tried to draw me back into the awkward conversation.
“Clocks are ticking,” Siobhan needled her aunt. “Walker and the others need a nudge or two if they’re ever going to get married.”
Walker came in, catching his cousin mid-sentence. She kept right on talking, her dark eyes glittering at him.
“I’ve never needed your help roping fillies, Monkey Butt.”
Rising up from her chair, Siobhan gave a condescending pat to his broad chest. “So, stud, you admit needing someone’s help. That’s progress, of a kind.”
He rolled his eyes and prowled toward the coffee pot, his dark-lashed gaze an appealing mix of sleepy irritation.
“Are you here on official business or mooching another free breakfast?” he asked.
Siobhan stuck her nose in the air. “I’ll remember that next time you’re mooching a meal at my mom’s kitchen table.”
Huffing, she brushed at her shoulder then flashed an exaggerated smile.
“To answer your question, I’m here at your brother’s behest. He’s coming down to interview your crew.”
Her head swiveled until she faced me. “He also hoped he would be able to consult with you today, unless it’s more convenient for you to meet up with him in Billings.”
“Of course, but my involvement was limited.” I took the seat one over from Lindy and directly opposite Siobhan.
Walker came to the table, his plate loaded down like he hadn’t eaten for the last twenty-four hours. For one fleeting second, he cast a glance at his cousin like he wanted her to move, but she smirked and he picked a different seat.
“So Emerson is finally willing to consider this as something in his wheelhouse?” Walker asked after swallowing a thick bite of sausage.
“Gamble made the request.” Siobhan’s face suddenly lit up. She whipped her phone out, tapped a couple of times at the screen then proceeded to type at a furious pace. Mouth settling into a satisfied smile, she returned the phone to her pocket.
Lindy sighed. “You didn’t just text Sutton, did you?”
“He has a right to know his twin will be in town,” Siobhan answered then reached across to Walker’s plate and stole a sausage link.
He growled at the theft.
She blew a kiss in reply.
With all the facts and subtext Siobhan was tossing around, I wanted to cradle my head in my hands—or grab my gear and go. Usually, I was good at remembering names, good at remembering almost anything, but my brain refused to focus. I wanted to blame it on the pain still coursing through my leg, but I knew that wasn’t it. I couldn’t stop looking at or thinking about Walker Turk. It was one or the other, sometimes both, and it needed to stop.
Lifting my mug, I took a long, slow sip until my expression didn’t give the impression that I was sucking on a lemon.
Or a cock—preferably the one attached to the man sitting just an arm's length away.
“Emerson is FBI, right?” I asked when the conversation grew too quiet for comfort. “Sutton is his twin?”
Lindy nodded. “They’re my youngest. Sutton won’t admit to it because he’s a few minutes older than Emerson.”
Siobhan smiled into her coffee. “Sutton won’t admit to a lot of things.”
Walker cleared his throat, the sound having a distinct edge to it.
“Why’d Gamble invite him to check it out? Or is that above dispatch’s pay grade.”
Siobhan sipped at her coffee in silence, her face a study in serenity as Walker’s scrunched into a scowl.
“Fine, Deputy Trainee Turk. If it’s not classified, what changed their minds?”
Siobhan nodded at me. “Someone almost got killed yesterday, federal law enforcement, no less. Things are escalating. And the level of sophistication shown indicates it might be a multi-state group.”
I poured some gravy over my biscuits, the meal a far cry from the dishes I might find on the menu in California. Cutting into my biscuits, I tilted my chin at Walker.
“There haven’t been any threats or other communications?”
He shook his head. “None. This is the third site with a problem. The first two were so minor, we thought they might be kids getting up to no good for kicks. But we checked and rechecked the locations, went through all the mail, did web searches for anything said on public pages that might show someone had it out for us.”
Putting his fork down, he finished with a shrug.
“Then we can probably rule out both environmental groups and extortion,” I suggested.
Siobhan put her hands together, the tips of her index fingers touching her lips as her gaze lit up like a Christmas tree.
“Extortion? How’s that?”
“Yeah,” I explained. “Just like how mobsters would go into stores with baseball bats, bust up a few glass counters then say they’d be back the following week and do it again unless you had an envelope full of ‘insurance’ money for them. It’s getting to be a thing again, but gangs have moved operations to small towns as easier targets. Walker’s would be the first timber company I heard of getting this kind of treatment. Extortionists generally stay away from companies that have a bunch of big guys with heavy tools on site.”
Pausing to take a breath, I shrugged. “Not that I have personally worked on a case like that. But, for some service officers, they’re the only law around for any appreciable distance and they’re the first to pick up calls on the issue.”
Siobhan bobbed her head in agreement. “True, we have some gaps in Montana—although there’s not a lot of population in those areas and even fewer businesses to extort.”
“Like I said, without contact making any other threats or demands or some kook-drafted manifesto, it’s not likely to be extortion or an environmental group.”
I shoveled a forkful of eggs into my mouth. I chewed, my mind nibbling at Walker’s problem at the same time. I chased the eggs with a gulp of coffee before hooking his gaze.
“Also highly unlikely, but I have seen something similar to this before. Twice, actually.”
He had already been watching me when I first glanced up from my plate. But his face changed when I mentioned a possible connection. His expression sharpened, the soft contemplation of a few seconds before vanishing.
I wondered just what Walker had been contemplating, especially if it was anything like the dirty thoughts that had run through my mind while I tried to sleep in his mother's guest room.
“Don’t keep us in suspense,” Siobhan demanded as she whipped out a notebook.
“First time was illegal grow operations. I was pretty green at the time, still shadowing a senior officer. A new section of land had been opened for recreational purposes.”
Siobhan scribbled furiously, looking up when I paused to gather my thoughts and make sure I wasn’t mixing up memories.
“There were a co
uple of mom and pop kind of stores before the land was reclassified. Two gas stations, a restaurant, a bait and tackle shop. No one had ever bothered them before. Then the vandalism started up, little things at first that might close one of the locations for a day or two. At the same time, road signs started disappearing and the rest area had all its toilets broken. It ended when someone set fire to the restaurant. That’s when the investigation finally got extra resources.”
Head bobbing to each word, lips moving silently, Siobhan kept writing. I tried not to think of myself when I had been at the same stage in my career. Didn’t want to remember when I had been a too eager cub.
“And the other time?” Walker asked. “Was that pot, too?”
I shook my head, the memory of yesterday’s fox mingling with the image of a cinnamon colored bear.
“We never caught the people responsible, but we think it was for an illegal hunt. We found the remains of more than a dozen bears that had been slaughtered. After that, the vandalism stopped.”
Catching Walker’s gaze, I could almost see him thinking about the fox in the stable’s freezer and the empty den.
“I’ve got to contact my agency.” Picking up my plate, I started to stand.
Lindy lightly touched my wrist. “You let me worry about those, dear. You’ll learn where everything goes on your next visit, doesn’t seem like now is the time.”
“Thank you.” Stopping before I left the table, I looked at the three of them.
“Can one of you give me Emerson’s contact information?”
Siobhan tore off a sheet of paper from her logbook. “Already wrote it out.”
Returning to the guest room Lindy had set me up in, I was surprised when Walker knocked on the door a few minutes later. I answered, cell phone up to my ear.
“On hold with my supervisor,” I explained, gaze dropping to the fresh ice pack he held out.
Walker had brought me a similar pack before I went to bed. The ice had eased the pain enough that I was able to fall asleep fairly quickly.
