He was eyeing her pack. “Where’ve you been? Where’s Eager today?”
Thank God she’d taken the effort to come down via the eastern flank. “Eager’s at the vet,” she said. “He was bitten by something. I’m going to get him this afternoon.” And before he could press for specifics, she glanced at her watch.
“I must be off to fetch him now. I’d like to be back in time for the corn roast. Hopefully Hannah and her new help will join me.”
Interest, sharp and sudden, crossed Kittridge’s features. He tried to hide it with his easy smile, but his eyes lied. A newcomer in Cold Plains was going to be of interest to the mayor, especially so if said mayor was also one of Samuel’s militia leaders.
June still couldn’t see anything in Rufus Kittridge’s face that would indicate he was a coldhearted killer. How did one ever know they were looking into the eyes of a murderer? This place was so damned creepy, it made her sick.
“What help?” said Kittridge.
“She’s hiring an old friend of mine—old boyfriend, actually—for some heavy-duty lifting on the ranch. Hannah’s feeling her age and I think it’s a good thing she’s finally admitting she needs more help. My friend is flying into Little Gulch. I’m going to pick him up when I go get Eager.”
Anxious he’d ask for specifics, and that he and Chief Fargo might team up and go investigating in Little Gulch, June quickly changed the subject.
“Will you be there?”
“Where?” he said, suddenly distracted.
“At the corn roast.”
“Of course. I—”
“Well, see you there.” She turned to go. “I must leave to fetch Eager or I won’t make it back in time,” she called cheerily, giving a jaunty wave. Her heart hammered in her chest.
He drove off, slowly.
June’s mouth was dry as she crossed the field to the outbuilding she rented from Hannah. She moved quickly. Hannah needed to be apprised of the details of the plan June had cooked up before anyone else spoke to her.
* * *
When June drove out of town twenty minutes later, she glanced uneasily into the rearview mirror. It was one thing to be seen driving out of town without her dog, quite another to be followed. To her relief the road was empty as she left Cold Plains.
She put her foot on the gas, wound down the window, and the wind blew warm through her hair as the fields of rural southeastern Wyoming rolled by. Gradually, as she clocked the miles between herself and Cold Plains, she began to relax, and June realized suddenly what a deep and negative toll the perfectly evil town and its Devotees were taking on her. Jesse’s words crept into her mind.
You can’t keep this up, June. You’ve got to find a way to slow down.
* * *
Jesse was at Dixon’s Pub, sitting at a wooden picnic table in the shade of a trellis in the beer garden out back. Eager snoozed at his feet, a water bowl near his head. June’s heart clutched at the sight of them—man and dog, good and tired from their trek over the mountain.
Eager sensed her presence instantly, lifting his head then surging to his feet, body wiggling as he came toward her. June felt surprise at her sudden surge of emotions again. Everything was riding just a little too close to the surface. She had to tamp this down.
She dropped down to her haunches and ruffled her dog’s coat. “Good boy, Eager. You made it. You showed him how to get over the mountains, did you?”
She avoided looking up, but she had to eventually. Jesse had gotten to his feet and was standing near the table, giving her space. He smiled, teeth bright white, stubble shadowing his strong jaw.
His tan had deepened during the hours of hiking. He’d shucked the denim shirt and his white T-shirt was taut over his pecs. His jeans were dusty. His jacket hung over the bench next to the pack she’d loaned him, but he’d kept his hat on.
Damn, he looked good. She thought of their last kiss and a nervousness, excitement, raced quietly through her blood. For a moment she wished he could be just Jesse. No hidden past. And that she could be just June.
She got to her feet, brushing back strands of hair from her face.
“You made it,” she said.
“So did you. It’s good to see you.” His grin deepened. “I got to thinking, as long as I have your dog you’re not going to abandon me.”
Something sobered inside June, and she knew by those words he was feeling vulnerable, too.
“Can I get you a beer?” he said.
“A cold one would be excellent.” The August afternoon was sweltering. Country music floated softy through the open doors into the beer garden. No one else was sitting outside. A few hard-time drinkers and ranch hands lingered inside, playing pool, minding their drinks.
Jesse motioned to a young server who brought two ice-cold beers, the bottles sweating with condensation.
“It’s on me,” June said, reaching for her wallet in her back pocket.
He placed his hand on her arm. “No.”
“Jesse,” she whispered, “that’s all the money you have to your name right now. You might need it.”
“I still think I have a big bank account that I can’t remember.”
“Yeah, dream on, buddy.”
He paid the server and June took a deep swig right from the bottle, relishing the soft, cold explosion of bubbles in her mouth, the scent of hay being cut a distance away, the warmth of the afternoon. And, slowly, a decompressing sensation filled her body.
“I haven’t done anything like this in ages.” She stretched her legs out and scratched Eager’s neck with the toe of her boot.
“When we get back to the cave house,” Jesse said over his bottle, “after we’re through with the dog-and-pony show at the corn roast, what can I help you guys with?”
She liked his positivity. It bolstered her.
“Hannah hasn’t got anyone who needs to be evacuated right now. But I could do with your help on another front.” She hesitated, taking another swig of her beer, deciding how best to tell the story.
“There’s a doctor in town, Rafe Black, whose baby boy was kidnapped last month. Rafe is not a Devotee, but some time ago he had a relationship with one of the five victims believed to have been murdered by Samuel or his men. Her name was Abby Michaels. She had a baby boy and when the child was three months old, she contacted Rafe and told him the boy was his. Rafe believed her. He sent her money and then came to town to find her. But Abby and the alleged infant had disappeared.”
“Alleged?”
June nodded. “No one in Cold Plains would attest to Abby actually having a baby, but she’d sent Rafe a photo, and he believed her. Then, two months ago a baby boy—a dead ringer for the photo Abby had sent Rafe—was left on Bo Fargo’s desk at the police detachment. He was strapped into a car seat with a note pinned to him saying he was Devin Black. Rafe was overjoyed.”
“Jesus, that’s weird. Where’d the kid suddenly appear from?”
“No one knows. The note was anonymous. The person who wrote it said they’d found Devin abandoned, and they’d taken him and fallen in love with him. But when they heard Dr. Black was looking for his son, they felt duty-bound to give him back.”
Jesse sipped his beer. “How did this anonymous person get all the way into a police detachment and leave a child in a car seat on the chief’s desk without being seen?”
“Again, no one seems to know, or if they do, they’re not saying. Rafe was nevertheless thrilled to have found his son. Then last month, while Devin was sleeping in Rafe’s house, he was taken.”
Jesse whistled. “It must’ve killed the doc.”
“He’s distraught. There’s been no ransom note, and the police have no leads. Teams searched the mountains, but Bo Fargo called off the search pretty quickly, as if he
didn’t actually want this kidnapper found.”
“What about the feds?”
“They’ve got no leads, either.”
“So how do you need my help?”
June checked her watch. It was getting late—they needed to leave if they wanted to be back for the corn roast. “Last night when Davis was tracking the henchmen he found a baby’s pacifier under a slope riddled with caves. The caves were searched after the kidnapping, but I think there’s a chance the kidnapper could have returned and holed up in one of those caves. I’d like to take Eager up there, but I didn’t want to go alone.”
“So you want me to come?”
“You can be my armed backup.” She smiled.
But his eyes narrowed. “This is for the police, June.”
“Are you kidding me? Bo Fargo is the police in Cold Plains, and Fargo is Samuel’s puppet. If Samuel doesn’t want that kidnapper found, Fargo’s not going to find him.”
“Is that what you think happened?”
“I don’t know—like you said, it’s weird how a baby in a car seat can suddenly appear on the police chief’s desk with no one seeing a thing. And then the search was called off prematurely. I haven’t seen Fargo or his men doing a thing more to investigate the case since then.”
“The FBI should be on it.”
“You’re right. But the agents Hawk Bledsoe brought with him to Cold Plains are suits, not SAR technicians. They’d still need to bring in dogs, trained searchers. By the time they get those kinds of resources together the kidnapper could be long gone. His scent trail will be cold. Eager is right here. He could track from the location the pacifier was found. If we come across something, we notify the feds.”
Jesse was silent for several beats. “We’ll talk about it, okay? But we should probably head out now.”
June sighed heavily.
He placed his hand over hers. “Hey, I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
He fingered her wedding band.
June swallowed, feeling suddenly uncomfortable.
“Matt was a lucky man, you know that?”
“If he was lucky, I would have saved him.”
“June?”
She looked up into his indigo eyes.
“You can’t keep carrying guilt.”
“What of it? I’m doing good work because of what happened.”
“It’ll crush you eventually. You’re afraid to let it go, aren’t you? You’re scared you’ll have nothing left then.”
Irritation flared in her. “I don’t need a shrink, Jesse. Maybe you should sort out your own demons before you cast stones.” June got up abruptly, but he grasped her arm.
“June, I care for you.”
“Please, don’t touch me. I—I can’t do this. It’s not going to work. I have no idea who you are. You might have a family or something waiting for you.”
I couldn’t bear to lose someone again.
“Fine,” he said, letting her go. “Let’s go get this over with.” His voice was brusque, and his movements were angry as he led her and Eager out through the dim pub interior and into the parking lot at the front of the establishment.
Big trucks and a Harley were parked outside. Heat waves oscillated off the paving. Above the building the D in the pink neon sign that read Dixon’s Pub and Beer Garden flickered like a Devotee omen.
June felt a swish of nerves return as she climbed into her truck cab. She fired the ignition, and, as she pulled out of the lot, Eager sitting between her and a heavily silent Jesse, she told herself it was going to be fine. He’d find out who he was, go home. And Hawk would get something on Samuel, arrest him, and then she could go on to a new job in another state.
* * *
The late-evening sun lingered gold over the picture-perfect town as June drove into Cold Plains. Smoke curled from the barbecues on the lawn outside the community centre and crowds gathered around the food tents. A band played on a stand at the far end where tiny colored lights had been strung up. Already, some of the townsfolk were dancing.
Laughing kids gamboled on the grass, and mothers with smiling faces pushed strollers, husbands at their sides, offering greetings to neighbors as they passed. A bitter taste filled June’s mouth.
She glanced at Jesse, felt his tension
“Remember, it’s all in the attitude,” he said as he tilted his cowboy hat a tad lower over his eyes. “If you believe the story, so will they.”
She nodded, slowed and waved at Chief Bo Fargo, who was over by the main tent, talking to Mayor Kittridge. Both turned to look. Fargo began to walk over the lawn toward the truck.
“Oh, Jesus,” she whispered. “Party time.”
She stopped the truck, wound down the window. Eager gave a soft growl. He didn’t like Fargo any more than she did. The man had a bad vibe, even for dogs.
“Hey, Bo,” June said cheerily. “I just wanted to say thanks for letting me off the SAR hook the other day. I really needed that seminar. It’s always good to hear Samuel speak. Gives one a real boost.”
Fargo’s watery blue gaze darted over her truck, then he peered into the cab, his attention on Jesse.
“So Eager’s better?” he said.
“One hundred percent. I just went to fetch him. In fact, I got two for one.” June forced a grin. “This here is Jesse…Marlboro. He’s an old friend of mine from back West. Hannah needed some help on the ranch and—” she shot Jesse a look “—I volunteered him.” She forced a big smile.
Jesse placed his hand on her knee and June tensed inside. But it was a good call, because Fargo noted the gesture.
Behind him Mayor Rufus Kittridge was hurrying over the grass toward them now.
“Well, we should find some parking.” As she spoke, June could see Samuel watching them from under another tent. Her chest tightened.
It’s all in the attitude.
Kittridge was coming closer.
“You guys going to stay for the dance?” Fargo addressed Jesse.
“You betcha,” Jesse said with an easy grin.
June pulled off, found parking and turned off the ignition. She sat silent awhile, gathering herself, her heart hammering.
Jesse said, “Marlboro?”
“Just came to me.” Then she snapped, “We should have worked this out in more detail. We should have had a surname ready.” She turned in the seat to face him. “So, does being here jog your memory—do you recall anything?”
“Not a damn thing,” he said. “I’ve never been to this place in my life. I’m sure of it. Nothing at all feels familiar about it.”
“But you came here sporting a D tattoo,” she said, exasperation creeping into her voice. “You knew about this place, about Samuel.”
“Let’s go eat and dance, June,” he said quietly. “Then tomorrow morning we go to the caves, early.”
She inhaled deeply, staring at him. Then nodded. “Thank you.”
* * *
“Samuel, that was an excellent seminar,” June said, putting her cob of corn down onto her paper plate as Samuel Grayson approached her and Jesse’s table. They were eating under the colored lights that had been strung up near the dancing area where the band cranked out a feisty country tune.
Samuel’s eyes, however, were fixed solely on Jesse, and June knew he had to be wondering if Jesse was the mystery man from the woods.
Jesse got to his feet and warmly held out his hand. “Jesse Marlboro—pleased to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you from June.”
Samuel shook Jesse’s hand firmly and smiled. “Samuel Grayson.”
“This is a great event,” Jesse said, hooking his thumbs into his belt. Inwardly June smiled.
“It’s a celebration of being
the best town we can be,” Samuel said. “And it’s a nod to the approaching end of summer, hence the berry desserts, the corn on the cob, the burgers.”
“Please, take a seat.” Jesse gestured to the table, his demeanor assertive, confident, but warm. June was amazed. He was totally engaging, friendly, yet always alpha, and so very far removed from an image of an injured man in the dark woods that she began to believe he was actually going to pull this off.
“Don’t mind if I do, but just for a few,” Samuel said, swinging his leg over the picnic bench and seating himself. He gave his trademark Pierce Brosnan–style smile, his twinkling green sociopath’s eyes belying whatever was going on in his mind.
“June has been telling me about your seminars and explaining the philosophy behind Cold Plains, and when I hit a rough patch workwise, and she mentioned Hannah was looking for a hand on the ranch, I thought it would be perfect to try and start fresh.” He threw June a glance then smiled conspiratorially at Samuel. “And then there’s June.”
She felt her cheeks flush in spite of the situation.
“Mayor Kittridge tells me that you two used to date.”
So he’d already spread the word about the stranger’s imminent arrival.
“Off and on,” she said. “Before Jesse found work on the rig.”
“Oh, really, which rig?”
“Off the coast of Nigeria,” Jesse said quickly. “I know, it was far, foreign, but I—I needed cash.” He snorted. “And there were no casinos out there. I thought I’d be able to square some savings away.” He placed his hand over June’s. “Then the job fizzled—labor unrest, political upheaval. Nigeria is not an easy place to do business. I went on a bit of a downer.” He inhaled, squaring his shoulders. “But hey, now I’m here. And there are no casinos.”
Samuel was watching him closely. Then he smiled, cautiously, thought June, like a shark.
“Sounds like you’ll be a very good match for our community, Jesse.” He stood up, holding out his hand again. “And a good match for June. Pleased to have met you, Jesse. Hope to see you at my next seminar.”
“You betcha.”
Perfect Wyoming Complete Collection: Special Agent's Perfect Cover ; Rancher's Perfect Baby Rescue ; A Daughter's Perfect Secret ; Lawman's Perfect Surrender ; The Perfect Outsider ; Mercenary's Perfect Mission Page 83
