The man clamped his hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Two men got out of the pickup, and when they came down to the picnic area, they asked if we’d seen a young girl.” His face reddened, and his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. “We lied.”
His wife touched his hand, glanced up at Dannette. “Will you go look for her? I think she must be in trouble.”
Dannette felt herself nodding even as she saw Fadden in her peripheral vision. Oh, super timing.
He marched up to the group, wearing a forced smile. “Can I ask you two to fill out a report?” he said to the couple. “Miss Lundeen, a word?”
Dannette followed him, anger boiling in her chest. A quick look at the rest area didn’t mean a full call-out, manpower that costs hours. Just she and Missy, sniffing out some clues. “What?”
Fadden shook his head. “If she was a runaway, her parents would have called.”
“Unless they don’t want our help. Doesn’t that sound in the least bit fishy to you?”
Fadden glanced at the couple, gave them a wide smile, nodded. “Don’t get my department involved in something we’re not prepared to follow through on.”
“A missing child?” Dannette couldn’t help her tone. “Or do you have to be related to the mayor to get any help around here?”
Fadden narrowed his eyes, then sighed and strode away, leaving Dannette frowning after him.
“Don’t mind him, honey,” Mary said to Dannette. “He’s … well, there’re forces at work here you don’t know anything about. It has nothing to do with you.” She handed the form to the elderly couple. “Please fill this out.”
Mary pulled Dannette toward her desk, lowered her voice. “The thing is, Moose Bend had an incident about seven years back. Three lost hikers. Kids, really, out for the weekend in early spring. Storm came in, and their parents got worried. After three days, the state sent in dogs. Got everyone worked up. Filled ’em with hope.”
Dannette’s chest tightened. How many times had she heard the same story? She could finish it for her but waited for Mary’s next words.
“The dogs couldn’t find them, and a month later a hiker came across their bodies. Hypothermia.” She looked at the elderly couple in the reception area. “The sheriff ’s nephew was one of those lost. There’s still hurt there. Some in the community don’t think we should be spending time on dogs when we need equipment and more manpower instead.”
Dannette looked away from her. Mary had just voiced the reason why K-9 search and rescue was still mostly a volunteer activity with little monetary compensation.
Well, Dannette worked for other compensation.
“We all appreciate your hard work,” Mary continued. “Especially that you helped find Mrs. Hanson. But Fadden’s right. We don’t have the funds to outfit or tend a K-9 unit. And we especially don’t have funds to go traipsing after the flimsy report of a couple of vacationers. This girl probably had a fight with her boyfriend. Kids hang out at the rest area all the time— sometimes overnight.”
She gave Dannette a steady look. “If Fadden thought there was any truth to it, he’d send a cruiser out. I promise. He’s a good man, caught between two forces.”
Dannette let those words hang between them for a moment. Obviously, despite Mary’s tell-all posture, she was one of those who didn’t support Dannette’s K-9 work. Dannette shot a look at Fadden’s closed door. “Did he get any sleep last night?”
Mary gave a hint of a smile. “A couple hours. His wife brought him breakfast.”
“Listen, I’m going to go out and do a hasty search. See what I can dig up.”
Mary shrugged. “It’s your hide. But if Fadden finds out, we didn’t have this conversation. And, just between you and me, I don’t feel good about this. They don’t know for sure that group up in Silver Creek killed that fella. And I’m not feeding into any rumors, but there could be someone out there living in the woods, warped and very dangerous. It’s happened before, and I’d hate to have you stumble into trouble. Or get hurt.”
“I’ll be careful.”
“You’d better be. Because after we rescue you, Fadden will personally pack your bags and make sure you’re safely on the other side of the border. It won’t be pretty.”
Dannette nodded, not liking the visual picture Mary’s words conjured up.
Mary’s expression softened. “Make sure you get yourself a slice of banana bread on your way out.”
Dannette headed out to her truck. She had too many nightmares not to follow the cry of a lost child, regardless of what it cost her.
Chapter 6
WILL’S REPORTER/AGENT instincts ignited as he sat in the sheriff ’s office parking lot and watched Miss Dannette I-Hate-Reporters Lundeen stride to her pickup.
He’d hate to get between her and her next mission. She wore the look of a special-ops soldier—her eyes hard, even angry, as she slammed her door and peeled out of the lot. Still, mad and determined was a whole lot better than wounded and gun-shy. He’d relived the betrayed expression on her face one too many times while he scouted through the forest after the runaway Hayata operative. A search that had not only been fruitless but had nearly gotten him caught—twice.
By the time dawn fractured the night sky, he’d headed home, frustrated. He’d taken a hot shower, wiped off the war paint, and grabbed three hours of shut-eye before Jeff Anderson, his handler, called him from HQ.
He had the phone to his ear before he even knew he was awake. “Hello?”
“We unraveled Simon’s message,” came Jeff ’s calm voice. “It’s a code word.”
“A password?” Will’s voice had betrayed his lack of sleep.
“No, an identifier. We think the package General Nazar is sending is … his daughter. Sources listed her on a flight from Kazakhstan to Canada two days ago. She might be in America by now.”
Will had winced, feeling punched right in the center of his gut. Nazar’s daughter. “Amina is the name by which she was supposed to identify herself to Simon,” he guessed.
“Right,” Jeff said. “It goes without saying that if Simon was compromised, you and she may have been also. If we don’t find her—and soon—they will kill her. Maybe they already have.”
Will sat up, rubbed his eyes with a finger and thumb. The sunlight streamed through the milky curtains onto the wooden planked floor of his cabin. “No, I think she’s alive. Or was as of last night.”
“What are you talking about?”
Will swallowed, pretty sure that any way he phrased his next words they would incriminate him. “I went up for a sneak and peek around the property. I saw a young girl steal out of the compound.”
Jeff was silent.
Will cringed. Yes, I disobeyed orders. But he hadn’t spent the last year pecking out words on his computer and hanging around the local police station to let Homeland Security’s best shot at destroying the Hayata cells and thwarting another devastating attack on American soil sift through his fingers.
“Then I’m not sure if this is good or bad news. General Nazar said that he wasn’t leaving until the package was safe. Which means, I guess, until his daughter is in custody and hidden out of Hayata’s reach. He said that the package would inform us how to contact him.”
General Nazar. The big dog in the Hayata fortress. A big dog with juicy secrets. And his daughter was running for her life in the wilds of northern Minnesota. She held the key not only to her father’s defection but thereby to the list of terrorist clients stationed around the world.
A list the U.S. and a few other in-the-loop countries needed their hands on. Rumors had popped the Homeland alert status to yellow, and if HS didn’t wrestle out precious confirmation fast … well, Will wasn’t about to dig through rubble again, dreading to find more familiar faces.
“Will,” Jeff said quietly, “Nazar also told us that he knows the date and place of Hayata’s next attack, but his offer has an expiration date.”
Why? Because either Nazar or America wouldn’t be around
if they didn’t get him in time? Will’s chest tightened, feeling the possibilities. “I’ll find her, sir.”
“You do that. And stay in touch. We’re sending another agent up your way, so we’ll need you to check in every twelve hours or so.”
“Roger that.” Will had clicked off the line, wide awake, regrets souring his thoughts. He jumped in the shower again, not quite sure where to start hunting, and after a quick stop at the Java Moose, headed straight to the sheriff ’s office.
It couldn’t be mere coincidence that the one person who might find a lost child in a million-acre woods just walked out of the building.
He shot a glance heavenward and started his truck, pulling out after Dani, far enough behind to be dismissed but close enough to keep her in his sights.
She headed up Highway 66 toward the Canadian border, driving the speed limit like a good little search-and-rescue citizen. Cutting north into a rest area, she drove back a quarter mile to a wilderness nook with outdoor biffies and picnic tables.
He stopped just outside the area, watching her but careful to keep his distance so Missy wouldn’t pick up his scent. The last thing he needed was Dani spotting him and thinking he might be after a hot lead. Or worse, a stalker. He wondered if she carried a tranquilizer gun in that supply box in her pickup bed.
She pulled on her jacket and added an orange vest with a white cross that identified her as rescue personnel. Opening Missy’s box, she freed the dog, who trotted around, stretching. Will couldn’t help but appreciate the way Dani watered her partner before she dressed Missy in her own orange vest and her trailing harness. He imagined her voice, soft and sweet, as she rubbed behind the dog’s ears. Too easily he remembered her smile, the way she’d called him Cowboy. He tightened his hands on the steering wheel in an attempt to focus on the essentials.
Just because God had brought her back to his horizon didn’t mean he could let his daydreams take hold again. So she had a cute smattering of freckles, beautiful eyes, and an authentic smile. Her last memory of him included his wry admission of guilt.
A guy in his shoes didn’t have time to figure out what mysteries prompted her cutting exit from the café. Still, he couldn’t deny the desire for a second chance someday when this mission was over, and he could introduce himself simply as Will Masterson, national soldier or just a cowboy from South Dakota and add a lazy Western smile. Maybe she’d smile back, like she had before, and he could take her out for a steak, perhaps spin her a few back-home stories of life on the prairie. …
Okay, he was definitely not operating with all synapses firing. Even if they did get past the ugly ending of last night’s nondate, Will’s lifestyle didn’t lend itself to investing in a relationship.
Unless, of course, it was just a friendship. Slow. Comfortable. Nothing that might get him into trouble. Then maybe …
It felt like years since this feeling of hope had welled in his chest.
Will watched Dani walk with Missy down to a scenic overlook, where a scattering of picnic tables sat. Will climbed out of his pickup and followed her, thankful he was downwind. She didn’t unhook Missy’s lead but walked slowly along the perimeter of the picnic area. Missy’s snout raised windward, and Dani watched the dog. Will had often wondered about the symbiotic relationship between dog and handler. He’d read that while a dog had over one hundred million olfactory receptor cells versus a human’s paltry five million, it couldn’t talk. So it took a handler with astute understanding to reason out the clues from her K-9’s behavior.
Will stole closer when Dani and Missy disappeared on the northern edge of the rest area. He hid behind a trio of birch trees and peered out, wondering if his thundering heartbeat could be heard by Missy’s floppy ears.
Was Dani looking for Amina? Yes, they were technically only a couple of miles from the farm, as the crow flew, but she could be out training Missy or looking for someone else.
Yeah, there was a regular epidemic of lost kids in the woods. No, his gut told him that Dani was on the hunt for his missing package. At least he’d have a jumping-off spot when he returned and resumed his search.
Missy barked and bounded from the forest.
Will felt a rush of fear. He shook his head in self-disgust. He’d been on so many clandestine trails, he should be used to feeling naked and vulnerable, accustomed to the possibility of discovery.
Only, for some reason, he couldn’t bear the thought of cementing all Dannette’s presuppositions about him: the local predator.
More barks, and suddenly Missy appeared, running full tilt after a soaring Frisbee. She jumped, her body contorted, and caught it.
Will froze, feeling sick.
Missy looked in his direction, her ears pricked. Then, tail wagging, she sprinted over.
Will cringed but dropped to his knees and accepted her welcome. “Hey there, girl. You know, in about ten seconds I’m dead meat.”
“Sooner than that.”
He closed his eyes, winced. “Hi.”
“What are you doing here?” Dani’s voice held no warmth.
He looked at her, gave Missy a final pat, then rose.
Dani had her hood pushed back, the wind raking her cropped hair, her gaze dark and hot with suspicion. “Are you still digging for information on your murder suspect?” She narrowed her eyes. “I’m sure Fadden would be more than happy to let you quiz him. I’ve already been interrogated.”
He held his hands up in surrender. “Whoa, okay, so I know I didn’t score any points last night, but I’m not the embodiment of evil here.”
“Who says?” She patted her leg. Missy trotted over and sat, dropping the Frisbee.
He glanced past her into the fold of forest where Dannette had disappeared. “What’s the Frisbee for?”
She picked up the Frisbee, tapped it against her leg. “It’s a reward.”
“For finding something?”
She shook her head, sighed. “Can’t you leave well enough alone?”
He looked at her and saw a flash of pain behind her expression. For a second it swept any response right out of him. Pain, as if his presence actually dredged up an ancient agony. He felt like a jerk when he forced the next words out. “By any chance are you hunting for a teenage girl?”
He could have knocked her over with a seagull feather. She paled, glanced behind her, back at him. “What?”
“A teenage girl, lost in the woods. That’s why you’re here, right?”
She took a step back. “How did you know that? Fadden didn’t do a call-out—”
“I … have my sources.” Wow, it hurt to say that. For the first time in about three years, his chest actually spasmed as he dodged her question. He stepped toward her. “Did you find anything?”
She narrowed one eye. “Maybe.” Then she turned and strode back toward her pickup.
Missy followed her, looking back twice at Will.
Will opened his mouth. Maybe? “Hey, Dani, wait!”
She shot him a dark look over her shoulder. “It’s Dannette, thanks. And I’m not waiting.”
He caught up, despite the fact that she’d quickened her pace. “I want to help.”
“Yeah, sure you do.” She reached her truck, opened a supply box on the bed, and pulled out a Ziploc bag. She didn’t look at him as she shoved a piece of light blue fabric into the bag.
“That’s a part of her coat, isn’t it?”
She glanced at him, her brow furrowed. “Go away. Please. No one needs your kind of help.” She tucked the bag into her pocket, opened the kennel for Missy. She hopped in.
“What do you have against reporters?” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Can’t a guy just want to help out?”
She closed Missy’s door. “Yeah, right.” She gave a burst of disgust. “You’ll have her grieving family on the cover of one issue and the next be blaming them for her disappearance.” She shook her head as she headed for her driver’s door. “Good-bye, Mr. Masterson.”
What was that about? Only he d
idn’t have time to unlock her meaning. If Hayata didn’t already know Amina had escaped, they would soon. He suddenly heard the sounds of screaming, explosions. Saw friends, soldiers …
“Listen, I’m on your side here.”
Dannette reached for the door, but he braced his hand against it, feeling panicked and not a little angry. Excuse me, but did he have National Enquirer tattooed on his forehead? Not every reporter hoped to unearth the dirt that destroyed reputations, soured lives.
And why was he even bothering to defend his non-profession?
She froze, stared at his hand like it might be a bomb. “Get out of my way.”
What was it about her that churned up his desire to see respect in her eyes? In fact, she might be the first woman who didn’t respect him. Or at least admire him.
That was probably a good thing.
Still, he could strangle her with his frustration. “Why don’t you go ahead and string me up from that white pine over there? I mean, after all, I’ve committed a couple of capital crimes here— taking you out for dinner and wanting you to think I am a nice guy. In fact, I pretty much deserve to be shot at high noon.”
She stared at him, wide-eyed. She had very pretty eyes.
“I don’t know what you have against journalists,” he said, aware that he’d probably put too much regret into his previous words. “I’m only out to make a living, just like anyone else.”
“No, not like anyone else,” she snapped.
He opened his mouth to retort, but words clogged in his throat when he saw her eyes glisten. Way to go, Will, make her cry.
“Other people live to help people,” she said, voice trembling, “not destroy them. Other people don’t dig around in a person’s life, hoping to find enough dirt to eviscerate them. Other people think about the consequences of their words.”
He felt sick. Eviscerate? So much for wanting to make friends. Not only had he offended her but he was smart enough to figure out that he’d somehow treaded over all sorts of buried wounds.
Escape to Morning Page 7
