The Loner

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by Lindsay McKenna


  Shelby reached out and touched Dakota’s shoulder. “I’ll be okay.”

  Mouth quirking, Dakota stood. He wasn’t so sure, but that conversation would be in the cruiser on the way to his cabin.

  “See you later,” Cade called as they left his office.

  The midday sun was warm with a breeze that made Shelby keep the knit cap on her head. She noticed Dakota scowling as he walked with her. He was scanning the area. But so was she. Climbing into the black Tahoe sheriff’s cruiser, she waited until he got inside before starting the vehicle. Her body still glowed from their lovemaking last night.

  “I can’t sit and wait,” she told him, backing the SUV out of the parking slot.

  “They’re actively looking for you.”

  “So?” she said, putting the cruiser in Drive and guiding it out of the parking lot. “Where else can they find me other than at my house?”

  “They’re hunters, Shel,” he said, worry in his tone. Dakota ran his hands through his short hair. “You can’t get complacent. I worked with sniper teams in the SEAL platoon from time to time and they never relaxed or took downtime when on an op. For them, the enemy was out there 24/7. To assume the enemy slept wasn’t something they took for granted, either. When they were out hunting, one man slept and the other stayed awake. They never both slept at the same time for fear of being caught by surprise.”

  The streets of Jackson Hole were wet with melting snow from the storm that had roared through the area last night. The same storm that had caught them. It was impossible not to be affected by Dakota—every part of him. Her body still felt his hands moving across her, remembering her, pleasuring her. He fulfilled a hunger in her that no man ever had. Shelby glanced over at him, his profile set, mouth thinned, telling her he was worried for her.

  “I promise you, I won’t get caught flat-footed. You keep forgetting I was the one who found their trail and tracked them for three days before I caught up with them at Norris Basin.”

  Reaching out, Dakota slid his hand down the curve of her thigh. He remembered her strong legs straddling his hips. Even though he wanted her all over again, he knew he had to get a handle on his desire and remain alert. “You’ve already proven yourself,” he said. “You’re the hunted now. This is a different mind-set, Shel. An involuted game turned upside down and you’re the target. If I had my way about it, you’d stay at the cabin and not be seen anywhere near this town.”

  She lifted her hand and placed it over his. “I think you’re seeing me through the eyes of a man who isn’t used to working with women who are as good at what they do as you are.”

  His brows rose a little as they sped through a long curve of four-lane traffic through the center of town. “You’re good all right.” His lower body throbbed with need for her. She was a fierce, assertive lover, and that was when he realized just how confident Shelby really was. It was a surprise, but one of the best he’d had in a long time.

  Laughing softly, Shelby gave him a tender look before returning her attention to her driving. “What are we going to do, Dakota?”

  “About us?”

  “Yes.”

  He stared at her full lower lip, hotly recalling her mouth skimming his chest, her kisses burning his flesh with such intense pleasure. “You and I aren’t going to like my answer. Until Welton and Hartley are caught, nothing changes up at the cabin.”

  “What? You’re going to sleep outside?”

  “Yes. I’m the lightest sleeper in the world, thanks to my experience. And if those convicts get lucky and find where you’re staying, I’m your first line of defense.”

  Scowling, Shelby muttered defiantly, “I knew you were going to say that.”

  He patted her thigh. “This is the kind of war my platoon fought over in Afghanistan. While the terrain changes, the enemy’s mind-set doesn’t. They want you, Shelby. And if Welton is ballsy enough to be caught out in broad daylight in front of your house, that tells me he’s arrogant and on the hunt.”

  “A war,” she said, unhappy. They crawled through the central plaza area, rife with tourists from around the world drawn to the famous Western town.

  “It’s a mind-set you have to embrace and understand. I worry that maybe you’re overconfident, Shel. Yes, you tracked those two down, you hunted and captured them, but the tables are turned now. You can’t afford to rest on yesterday.”

  As she sped out of town, up a long, easy hill with the elk refuge fence and land on the right and a huge black, rocky hill rising thousands of feet into the sky on the left, Shelby knew he was right. “Look, I’m scared. Okay? But I can’t let fear run me, Dakota. If I allow it, I’ll freeze and I’ll get distracted. Both those things can put me in their crosshairs, and we know it.”

  Though he wanted to stop the car and hold her safe, he said nothing. Shelby was highly intelligent and she was a good law enforcement officer. “I wish,” Dakota groused, “I could somehow transfer my years of experience over in Afghanistan into your head. Welton and Hartley remind me of the Taliban. They are damn good hunters. They knew the lay of the land and we didn’t. They’d grown up in those mountains and knew them far better than we ever did. And those were all advantages they had over us. We lost some good SEALs because of it.”

  They crested the hill, the Tetons shining with a new coat of overnight snow on their slopes to the left. She never got tired of seeing them, their gray-blue granite flanks gleaming in the bright, overhead sunlight. “I wish I could do a Vulcan mind meld with you, too.” She gave him a soft smile. The look in his eyes was one of raw concern. His sister had died at their hands. And after making love with this warrior last night, Shelby felt his fierce, unrelenting protectiveness around her.

  Shaking his head, Dakota said in a low voice, “Dammit. I can feel them around, Shelby. I can feel them hunting you.”

  * * *

  “THAT BITCH ISN’T AT her house,” Vance griped to Hartley. He’d just returned from getting food from the local supermarket in Jackson Hole. Hartley was continuing to put up plastic across the three windows in the broken-down cabin to stop the cold drafts. The hammer, nails and large roll of plastic lay on the yellowed kitchen counter.

  Oren stopped what he was doing and came over to help unload the bags of groceries. “Were you able to get near the sheriff’s HQ?”

  Opening the refrigerator, Vance said, “No. I checked it out. The sheriff’s department is about a hundred feet from the courthouse and they’re on the same side of the street. On the other side is nothing but row upon row of houses. And they’re all pretty close together with individual fences up between each one. I can’t walk between them.” He scratched his short hair growing back on his head. “As soon as I’m done here, I’m going over to the address of someone with her last name. I think it’s her parents.”

  “Two for one?” Oren asked, taking the cans and stacking them on an open shelf to the left of the kitchen sinks.

  “Maybe. Maybe she’s holed up with them.”

  “Then what?”

  “I want her. If we’re stupid enough to blow the brains of her parents out, the cops will know it was us. And I want to keep a low profile and hunt her down. I don’t need cops swarming all over this place because we shot them.”

  “But if you can’t get her?”

  Smiling a little, he said, “Then we’ll go back and target her parents. It’s just another form of payback.”

  “And then we’ll hightail it out of here?”

  “Damn straight.” He had sexual dreams every night that gave him an erection without fail. He took care of it on his own, but not as he wanted. Remembering Ellie Carson, how soft and young she was, he itched to be inside another woman. But not just any woman. Shelby Kincaid was going to be tied up on that bed in the corner, splayed out, naked, and he was going to make her bleed. Just as Ellie had. He could still remember her whimpers, her begging him to stop hurting her. For now he had to bide his time. He finished putting the groceries away.

  “You keep getti
n’ this place cleaned up. It’s damned cold up here at night. I’m gonna slip back into town. There’s a gun dealer outside the town, and we need a couple of good pistols and two rifles,” Welton said.

  Oren Hartley returned to cutting out large, rectangular pieces of thick plastic for the next window that needed to be fixed. “Be careful. You know they do background checks.”

  “That’s okay.” He patted the back pocket of his jeans. “Our new IDs are in place. That dude with the Garcia drug cartel did a nice job on our new license and social security cards. Worth the two thousand it cost.” Welton smiled a little, feeling good about their steps toward throwing the cops off their trail. He rubbed his jaw. The prickly growth had given his triangular face a fuller look. As he pulled on a dark blue baseball cap, his camouflage was in place. Few would be able to identify him as a convict on the run.

  “Be careful out there,” Hartley drawled.

  “Always,” Welton called over his shoulder. He shut the door to the cabin and looked around. A rutted dirt road led up to the cabin. He could see one of the Tetons shining with a coat of overnight snow through the tall Douglas fir that surrounded them. They had happened upon the broken-down cabin by accident. The road had been hidden by overgrown brush. Luckily, Welton sensed it was a good path up the slope.

  As he walked across the muddy ground to the truck, Vance congratulated himself. They’d successfully evaded law enforcement. Even Shelby Kincaid wouldn’t be able to pick up their trail. Snickering, he climbed into the truck and shut the door. The cabin was an unexpected gift because it was clear to him whoever had owned it hadn’t been back to it in a decade or more. The log walls were splintered, peeling and hadn’t gotten a coat of shellac to protect the outer logs from the long, hard winters in the area. The windows all had caulking that had frozen, dried and fallen out, leaving wind whistling through the cracks. There was electricity to the place. The refrigerator was at least fifteen or so years old, but it still worked. A new tank of propane fired up the stove so they could cook their meals.

  As he backed out and turned around, the wheels spinning in the mud, Welton drove down the steep slope. Moose Lake was far below, a popular hiking destination for tourists. Between the thick forest, he could catch occasional glimpses of the smooth blue surface of the small lake.

  There was a spiderweb of dirt roads all across the eastern slopes of the Tetons. He’d scoured them relentlessly since finding the cabin, wanting to know what the odds were of a stupid tourist finding them by accident. The good news was there were no hiking trails above or below their cabin. The slope was steep, littered thickly with pine needles and thousands of Douglas fir standing guard to hide them.

  As he slowly crawled around the curve, there was a window, a break between the firs. He could see down where the slope met the valley floor. Moose Lake was off to his left and he saw a gravel road leading from it to the main highway through the national park. Braking, Welton got out and stood observing the traffic. He was always interested in who was up and moving about. He picked up a pair of binoculars and scanned the main highway. His heart began to beat harder as he locked on to a black Tahoe SUV, a sheriff’s cruiser, coming north.

  Eyes squinted, Welton watched the cruiser drawing closer. He was too far away to see who was in it, except the outline of two people. Was this part of the ongoing attempt to find them? What got his attention was that it slowed down, took the Moose Lake turnoff and headed toward him. Fear trickled through him. Had the cops identified him? Seen him in the truck? Mouth dry, Welton watched intently, wishing like hell he had weapons on him.

  To his surprise, the cruiser slowed and made a turn onto another less-used gravel road that led north of Moose Lake. The sunlight was overhead and for a split second, he thought he saw a glint of blond hair on the driver. What the hell? He remembered the color of that hair. Damned if it wasn’t Shelby Kincaid! Hands tight around the glasses, Vance felt excitement mix with fear. The cruiser disappeared beneath the cover of the fir, gone from sight.

  Welton stood there, his mind whirling with questions. Had Kincaid found them? No, impossible. He’d been damned careful to be in his cap and dark glasses. His beard had grown enough to hide his pointed chin. Rubbing his mouth, Welton looked at the area where the cruiser had disappeared. There was a narrow road there, he knew. He got into his truck, opened the glove box and jerked out a map of the Tetons. Opening it, he hunted for the red X he’d put on it, indicating their cabin. Once he found it, he moved his finger down. There were several capillary-like dirt roads north of Moose Lake. He hadn’t had time to explore the northern area beyond their cabin.

  As he lifted his head, the sun slanting into the window of the truck, he thought for a moment. So, what was Kincaid doing in this neck of the woods? He knew she was a damn good tracker. The last thing he needed was her snooping around. Maybe she was heading up to Lake Jackson to get a latte? Maybe that’s all it was.

  Slowly continuing down the steep incline, Welton felt glee over his discovery. There was nothing more exciting to him than stalking a woman. And now he was going to check out those minor dirt roads that crisscrossed the slopes of the Tetons, just to make damn sure Kincaid hadn’t found them. He fantasized about capturing the bitch and grew hard. He could almost see the expression on her face when she realized he’d gotten to her.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “SHELBY, GOT A MINUTE?” Cade crooked his finger as she walked by the open door to his office.

  She’d just gotten into uniform and came back to the department when he called her in. “Sure. Got my schedule ready?”

  “I’m working on it.” He handed her a piece of paper. “Check this out. I’ve been ratting through every file known on Welton and Hartley, and look what popped up.”

  Frowning, Shelby stood near his desk, reading the information. “They worked here? For Curt Downing?”

  “Yeah,” Cade growled. “Our homegrown regional drug lord is connected to them. Small world, eh?”

  She read the rest of the information. “Yes, but that was nearly a decade ago. Downing hired them as truck drivers for his newly established trucking company here in Jackson Hole.”

  “Hey, it’s a lead. I’m going to put an undercover agent over there to keep watch,” Cade said.

  “I didn’t think we had the manpower to do something like that.”

  Cade smiled a little. “I got a call from the FBI earlier. They have a hand in wanting these two bastards taken down as swiftly as possible, too. They’re assigning four FBI agents to me. They’ll be here by this evening.”

  A little relief trickled through Shelby. “That’s good news.”

  “And more good news. I’m getting volunteer deputies from surrounding counties coming in to start searching for these two. I can’t have civilians doing it, because they’re armed and they’ll kill.”

  Nodding, Shelby handed the paper back to him. “How many men?”

  “Ten. It’s a good number. I’m going to meet with them and the FBI agents tomorrow morning in the conference room. I’d like you and Carson to be present. You and he know the trails and roads of the Tetons like few do.”

  “Dakota knows the Tetons better than most,” she agreed, thinking out loud. “He’s been hunting, fishing and trapping on their slopes. If anyone knows the back roads, the old, broken-down cabins, it’s him.”

  “Which is why I want him here. These deputies coming in will go undercover, appear to be tourist hikers in the Tetons. It’s good timing, because this is when the tourists come in, after the snow melts.” He smiled and looked up at Shelby.

  “How are you doing? This has to be damned stressful on you.”

  “It is but I’m not going to whine. I feel better being on the job. I’ll be looking for those two as I work the town and surrounding highways.”

  “Let Dakota know we’ll be convening at nine tomorrow morning,” he said.

  “I will,” Shelby said. “Am I on duty right now?”

  Grinning, Cade said, “S
ure are. We’ve got an extra cruiser out there. Why don’t you just keep your eyes and ears open here in town? We’ve got the photos of those two on TV. I’d like you to go over to the supermarket and talk to the store manager. Dakota said he’d go over and watch the store videos once he got his dressing changed over at the hospital on his bear bite. Those two have to eat and I’m hoping someone’s seen them.”

  “I’ll start with grocery stores and then check at the gas stations. I’m assuming they have a set of wheels.”

  “Good plan. Let me know if you get anything.”

  “You’ll be the first to know,” Shelby promised. She would head to her locker, pick up her weapon and belt. She felt a tad better that she was allowed to go back to work, but then her mind turned to Dakota. On the way to his cabin earlier, she’d convinced him to see Dr. Jordana McPherson. It was time for him to get his bear bite looked at by the physician. Shelby also persuaded him to see her about his PTSD symptoms. Would he? Damn, he was one stubborn man. Her steps slowed to the locker room. She couldn’t stop thinking of their night together. They had been starving for each other. Was it just about sex? She had no answers. At least, not yet. For now she had to focus her mind on Welton and Hartley.

  * * *

  “YOU HEAL UP FAST,” Jordana McPherson congratulated Dakota. He sat on a gurney as she cleansed the bear bite wounds and gave him a fresh, clean waterproof dressing to cover the forearm.

  “Good, because I need to use that arm.”

  “You were lucky the bear missed a major nerve.” She pressed her latex-gloved index finger near one of the puncture wounds. “If that had happened, you’d have lost complete use of your hand.”

  “Don’t even want to go there, Doc,” he rumbled. Dakota sat in a cubicle in the E.R. There were very few emergencies under way from what he could see. Jordana’s touch was quick and professional. The red-haired nurse at her side handed her the new dressing.

  “There, you’re good to go for another five days,” Jordana said, smiling.

  Dakota waited until the nurse left. He slid off the gurney and rolled down his shirt. “Doc, you got a minute?”

 

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