Cool. Calm. Collected. To distract himself, he focused on counting how many different people's footprints he could spot. He'd gotten to five when, suddenly, his gaze lasered in on one of the prints.
There was something distinctly familiar about it.
Before he could stoop down to investigate, Sally gave his bicep a friendly cuff. “So, Cooper, how's the article going?” She looped her arm through his and led him up the deck steps.
Damn.
He smiled at Sally. “Not too bad. It'll be done soon.” Sliding into his chair, he leaned back, watching Maggie. He let his gaze drift down to her belly, then back up to the glass of wine in her hand. “Rollo ever decide who he thinks is doing the poaching?” he asked Sally, who was idly watching Doug and Justin unload boxes from the truck with Maggie and Theresa looking on.
“He thinks it's Conrad, or one of his riders,” Sally said.
Surprised, Coop peered at her. “Yeah?”
Sally leaned her chin in her hand. “Conrad makes a joke of hating bears, but he can be ruthless. He's rich, and when he wants something, he's used to getting it. And he really wants those hunting restrictions lifted.”
“What do you think?” Coop did his best to block out the sight of Maggie and Theresa admiring Doug and Justin as they removed their shirts while they finished unloading the truck.
Sally shook her head. “It's not Conrad. There are easier ways for him to get what he wants than poaching a few measly bears.”
Coop gave her a penetrating look. “You mean like bribing someone on the team to skew the data?”
A smile played at Sally's lips as she met his gaze. “Maybe.” Then she looked back at the foursome by Doug's truck. “Cute couple,” she said.
Coop glared at her.
“Theresa and Justin, I mean,” she amended with a sly grin.
“I didn't know they were an item.”
“He's been out to the camp off and on all summer. But I think she's more interested than he is.”
“Lucky him,” Coop muttered. With a frown, he watched Maggie join Theresa at the deck rail, sipping wine and bantering with the two men as they lifted cartons onto a dolly.
He was floored by her utter gall. How could she be doing this to him all over again? Last night at the juke box wasn’t enough? Had she not learned it wasn’t wise to provoke him?
Oh, hell, no. Not again. He'd made a promise to himself, and he intended to keep it.
“Excuse me.” He rose abruptly and thanked Conrad for the delicious lunch. He needed to get out of there. Pronto.
There was just one little thing he had to take care of first.
Barely Dangerous: Chapter One Hundred and Five
Maggie reminded herself to keep a smile on her face, and keep giggling while she kept an eagle eye on the mound of boxes emerging from Doug's truck. She was sure there must be a carton somewhere in there marked CHEESE in big yellow letters. If she found it, she could tell Cooper, and—
Yeah. Well, maybe she could call Jack.
The distinctive tattoo of Cooper's cowboy boots hammered toward her on the deck.
Fabulous. She braced herself for another round of hurt and rejection.
The ominous sound stopped only when she felt the heat of him against her backside and his warm breath in her hair. She went absolutely still, stopping herself from leaning back against him and rubbing up against his body like a damn cat.
He spun her around. The look on his face was deadly.
“Wolf, I— Oh!” She caught her breath as he grasped her arm with one hand and her wine glass with the other. “What are—”
He yanked her away from Theresa, growling a curt, “Excuse us.”
She was flabbergasted when he poured the remains of her wine over the side of the deck and left the glass teetering on the rail. “What the hell do you—”
“You've had enough to drink,” he gritted out. His arm was an iron band as it belted her shoulders and steered her out of earshot of Theresa.
“Excuse me?”
Was he fucking kidding? Bad enough he had been unrelentingly nasty to her since arriving, now he was telling her she couldn't have a glass of wine to help dull the pain of his heartless rejection?
Her mouth curved up bitterly. “What's the matter, Wolf? Afraid I'll get drunk and take advantage of you again?”
He pressed so close to her she could feel every hard, taut muscle on the front of his body. She tried to back away. If he thought her feelings for him would excuse this manhandling, he was in for another think.
She struggled to extract herself from his vise grip. “You needn't worry. I've no intention of—”
He cut her off and growled in her ear, “I don't want you drinking until we find out for sure.”
She squirmed indignantly. “Find out what? What an asshole you are?”
His eyes seared a path right through her. “About the baby.”
“What baby? For God’s sake, you’re making no sense.” Tears threatened just below the surface. Maybe he really had gone windigo.
“Our baby,” he said with deadly intensity. “The one we may have made last night.”
Wait. What?
Shock hit her with the force of a hurricane, knocking her back onto the wooden deck railing. Her mouth gaped. She thought frantically. Last night? He could only mean the alley. But—
Oh, my God. He hadn't— They hadn’t—
She clamped a hand over her mouth.
Oh. Crap.
Silently, Cooper turned and stalked toward the back door.
Her hands went instinctively to her belly. Could it be true? Her eyes filling again, she looked skyward, suddenly filled with a joy she couldn't for the life of her explain. Without a shadow of a doubt, if she was pregnant, she wanted this baby. Wanted it more than she'd ever wanted anything else in the world.
Except maybe it's father.
He reached the door. All of her anguished instincts screamed at her that she must not let him go. She'd be taking an awful chance with her heart and her pride. But suddenly she was willing to gamble everything.
The screen door slammed behind him.
She lurched forward. Her suddenly firm voice cut across the deck. “Blue Wolf Cooper, just you hold on one damned minute.”
Barely Dangerous: Chapter One Hundred and Six
At the table, everyone looked up. Maggie flashed an apologetic smile. “Excuse me.” And flew after Cooper.
She gulped down an explosion of panic at the look he gave her when he paused to grab his Stetson from the coat rack in the hall.
She lit into him. “You cannot just blithely announce you may have gotten me pregnant, then calmly waltz off into the sunset. We have to talk about this, mister.”
“We can talk when we know something.” He yanked the front door open and disappeared through it.
She stalked after him, sticking her hands under her armpits so she wouldn’t smack the daylights out of him. Or tear her own hair out. “Why are you doing this to me? What have I done to offend you now?” she demanded, holding on by a thread.
He strode to her truck and braced himself against the cab door with straight arms. He slammed his fist against the roof with a hollow crash. The afternoon sun was blazing hot in the shimmering, cloudless sky. But it had nothing on the fire that was burning in his eyes when he turned to her. “You honestly don't know?”
She could feel the hostility pouring off him, repelling her with the power of two magnets being held together, north to north. Was that how he saw this situation? That they were being forced together against his will? She'd told him she loved him and he’d wanted to bolt, but realized he might have gotten her pregnant, so now he felt obligated to stay.
She took a deep, steadying breath, and met his eyes. Wishing, hoping, he would take her in his arms and crush his lips to hers. “Look, if this is about what I said last night—”
Instead, he waved her off and crushed his Stetson on his head. “I can't deal with all this right now. It's m
aking me crazy.”
Gripping her truck bed with one hand, chewing on the knuckles of the other, she stood trembling, two feet away from him. A million miles away from him.
“And I've got a case to solve.” He started toward the Indian.
She'd lost. He was gone. Irretrievably.
Unshed tears burned her eyes with the strength of acid, shrieking to come out. She clamped her jaw tight, biting down on her tongue to keep from crying out loud at the pain in her heart. Slowly, agonizingly, she straightened her spine and schooled her features.
“No need,” she called after him. “I know who the poacher is.”
Barely Dangerous: Chapter One Hundred and Seven
Cooper's mind was already on overload, drowning under the flood of new, totally unfamiliar emotions that coursed through him. Grief, misery, heartache, sorrow. Hope, new life, fatherhood, love. It took a moment for his brain to break through the morass enveloping it, and comprehend what Maggie was saying.
He whipped around. “What?”
“The poacher. I know who it is. Well, one of them.” She watched him uncertainly, nearly flinching under his intense stare.
Just one surprise after another, this woman.
“Is that so?” he said.
“Yes.”
He waited. Stubbornly. But she just stared at him. His temper was about to burst. “Would you care to enlighten me?”
She swallowed once. “It's Lori.”
Lori. And didn’t that just figure. A goddamn woman. This case had been out to get him from the first. Grizzly bear woman. He’d just been wrong about which one.
He took a deep breath. Could it really be Lori?
“How long have you known about this?” he asked.
A look of betrayal filled her eyes. “I found out this morning. By accident. I've been trying to tell you all through lunch.”
“Surprised you even noticed I was there,” he mumbled, then looked over at her quick gasp.
“Me notice?” She exhaled sharply and turned to face the truck bed. “I'm trying to help, and all I get is insults. Well, fuck you.” She whirled and started marching back toward the house.
Cooper jerked the brim of his Stetson further down over his eyes, debated for two seconds, then went after her. He grabbed her arm and pulled her to a stop. “All right. I'm sorry. Tell me about Lori. Please.”
She didn’t turn around, and it took her so long to reply, he didn't think she would.
But finally, she took a shuddering breath, and said, “She was arguing with a man in the alley behind the Caf. Talking about cutting something off a bear, and making profits, and how the buyers are clamoring for more.”
He dropped Maggie’s arm and clenched his fists. “Tell me everything. Word for word.”
Barely Dangerous: Chapter One Hundred and Eight
Cooper leaned into a wall of the hallway next to the Caf’s kitchen, concealing himself as best he could. The short order cook stood ten feet away working the grill in the narrow galley kitchen. If anyone came to the back door, from either inside or out, he was blown.
He waited patiently, stuck precariously at the end of a set of industrial steel shelves across from the Caf's walk-in freezer, which was the object of this foray into foolishness.
At last, the cook slid two cheeseburgers—animal style—and a large order of home fries onto plates, then walked over to the pass-through, calling, “Order up!” to Lori.
Cooper skimmed across the kitchen, eased open the freezer door, and slipped inside. Wedging a piece of cardboard between the lock and the strike plate, he closed the massive door and was instantly gripped by the sub-zero temperature.
Holy shit. He'd have to make this fast, or freeze solid in his thin summer clothing.
Swiftly and methodically, he lifted the lid of every box on every shelf. About mid-way through the search he started shivering, and toward the end, his teeth were clattering so loudly he was afraid the cook might hear. His hands were getting so cold they were now nearly useless.
He glanced around impatiently. There had to be some evidence here somewhere. Unless Maggie had gotten it all wrong. Could she have deliberately misled him?
No. Her details had been too clear and consistent.
He blew icy breath into his cupped fists, taking a last look around before he turned into a life-sized ice cube. A box of take-out cartons he'd skipped over earlier suddenly caught his eye. Odd. He hurried over to them. They were already put together. And full.
He opened one and looked in.
Oh, yeah. You are so fucking busted.
Quickly, he replaced the carton as he'd found it, and went over to the freezer door. This was going to be the tricky part.
Carefully, he massaged it open a crack and peered out. The cook was at the grill again, showing no signs of moving any time soon. Coop clenched his teeth viciously to keep their chattering from giving him away. He had to get out of there. He wouldn't last much longer. Already, he had lost feeling nearly to his elbows and knees.
Taking a slow, warm breath through the crack in the door, he finessed it wider and wider until he could slide through. Praying the cook would keep his back turned for just one more minute because if Coop stopped now he'd collapse into a shivering heap of frozen mush on the floor. He slipped out, eased the freezer closed with useless fingers, and darted out through the back screen door.
If by darted he meant lumbered like Bigfoot through a stream of molasses.
Awkwardly, he slipped around the fence to the neighboring store where he'd parked the Indian, and dropped onto the stoop, burying his hands in his armpits and bending his chest to his knees until the icicles in his lungs melted.
Maggie had been right. Lori was the distributor of the poached bear parts. Using take-out cartons to deliver them was pretty ingenious. In hindsight, he now recalled seeing number of slick-looking take-out customers roll up to the Caf over the past few weeks.
He shook out the final chills from his stinging hands. Who was doing the actual killing, though? Not Lori.
Suspects flowed through his brain along with sun-warmed blood. Her husband, Dylan, and boyfriend, Doug, were the most likely, Coop finally decided. He thought briefly about the boot print he may have recognized at the Wilkins place earlier. Doug was definitely moving toward the top of the list.
Coop gingerly mounted the Indian and flexed his fingers in his gloves one last time before kicking on the engine. He had to call Jack and arrange for warrants and the rest of the paperwork to wind up the case. He pulled out his cell phone. Afterward, he’d grab a booth and sit in the Caf for a while. See what turned up.
Strapping on his helmet, it hit him. He was tying up the poaching case.
He'd be gone soon. Away from Marigold and back to Sacramento. Leaving the peace and tranquility of the Trinity forest, but also the headache of this frustrating case.
And walking away from the woman he loved.
Would he be abandoning his child, too? A child he wanted more than anything to watch growing large inside her...?
The pain in his heart was nearly unbearable.
Solve the case and get the girl, too?
Not this time, amigo.
Barely Dangerous: Chapter One Hundred and Nine
Maggie pulled the truck off the highway onto the tower service road. After she'd told Cooper about Lori, he had ridden off full bore toward town on the Indian. She had rejoined Wilkins and the others on the deck for another hour or so, then had driven around the mountains, thinking, for a long time before she finally ended up back here at the turnoff to Tower Eight.
Her heart was officially broken.
There was nothing to do except forget Cooper. Ignore her feelings. Purge his sweet loving from her memory.
Curl up and die.
With her quivering chin held high, she turned the truck onto the gravel road. A gray compact crunched past going in the opposite direction. The men in the car looked familiar. One wore a silver Raiders baseball cap. The guy from t
he bar last night? The other man had a long, thin ponytail. She nodded a distracted greeting, and gunned the truck up the mountain, spraying gravel onto the compact.
Sorry about that.
When she got to the top of the lookout tower, she went straight onto the catwalk and looked down at Cooper's camp. The Indian was parked below, but she couldn't see him anywhere. She wondered what he was doing. Would he break camp, now that he knew who the poacher was? She figured it wouldn't take more than a day or two to wrap up the case. And then he'd be gone for good.
Out of her life.
She continued to gaze over the serene mountain landscape, so solid and imperturbable, drawing on its strength to calm her in her despair.
Reluctantly, she turned back to the cab door, and went in.
Frowning, her eyes settled on the dresser. The drawers gaped open. Her freshly laundered clothes and her few possessions lay scattered all over the floor and bed.
My God! What the hell?
She gave a little cry and ran over to the dresser. Her gun! It was gone. Instinctively, she reached down to her boot and checked her knife, grateful for her habit of carrying it there. She should have listened to Dinny and started carrying her gun, too.
A quick survey of the rest of the cab told her the culprit’s search had been thorough. But by whom? And for what?
Had Whitney found her? Had they been searching for something to confirm her identity before they killed her? Or was it the poachers, searching for the evidence she’d found at their kill site...?
She hurried to the Forest Service two-way radio and clicked it on. Nothing. With a curse, she realized the back panel hung off, suspended by one screw. Whoever had ransacked the cab and taken her gun had also disabled the radio. She whipped out her cell phone. No bars, as usual.
Damn it!
Panic squeezed her chest, rising like a flash flood.
My God, what should she do?
Wolf! He would help her.
Heroes in Uniform: Soldiers, SEALs, Spies, Rangers and Cops: Sexy Hot Contemporary Alpha Heroes From NY Times and USA Today Bestselling Authors Page 241
