by Jodie Bailey
Near the door, the trooper who’d escorted her into the building stood sentry. He’d informed her that an anonymous tip about opioids had led them to her plane, and now he stood guarding her.
Guarding. Her. As though she was the criminal.
Jasmine shook her head. What did the trooper think she was going to do? Sprout wings and fly through the ceiling? Attack him with her baseball cap? She was shaking so hard she doubted her knees would even let her stand, let alone fight her way out of the small plywood and metal building.
If they only knew who she was, how she’d sacrificed her identity to testify against the types of criminals they now hunted, they’d—
“I’m sorry, Jas.” Across the room behind a small desk that acted as a customer counter, Maya had been watching her since they entered the building. “I told them you wouldn’t carry drugs. Dean tried to tell them, too. But that guy out there, Trooper Stryker? He wouldn’t listen.”
Jasmine lifted her head. Water ran off the top of her cap and slid down her neck, trailing along her spine like a cold finger of fear. “You did what they asked you to do, but thanks for trying. Have you reached out to Keith and Darrin?” Her bosses, brothers and owners of Kesuk Aviation, would want to know about both the allegations and the delay in deliveries.
Well, technically they already knew, since the trooper at the door had also informed her that the “aircraft’s owners” had given permission for the search. Jasmine cringed. What were they thinking about her? This could cost her the job she loved. And for someone in WITSEC, finding another one was never without risk.
“I did. They’re confident you’re clean, but Keith said he’d head up here if you need him.”
“Not yet.” Jasmine gripped her stomach tighter and wished she could see the airstrip, but the trooper blocked the door. “Most of the cargo comes to us already packed, and I supervise loading. What if...” Shaking her head, she studied the plywood ceiling. Lord, please don’t let someone have smuggled something onto my plane. Please don’t let me land in jail.
It wasn’t merely the thought of prison that terrified her. Because for her, going into the system could be a matter of life and death.
The door swung open and the trooper who’d been leading the charge entered, a dripping wet border collie at his side.
He said something under his breath to the trooper standing guard, then turned to Maya. “Thank you for your help.” When he faced Jasmine, his dark brown eyes flickered with something warm but unreadable. Just as quickly, they went cold again. “Your plane’s clean. I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”
He pivoted on his heel with a swift hand motion to the dog and started to leave.
All of the pent-up fear and anxiety—two years’ worth—exploded in Jasmine’s gut, as sudden and violent as the squall that had nearly swept her plane from the sky. “That’s it?” She rocketed up from the couch, her feet rooted to the floor, but her hands flew with all of the Italian blood her grandmother had gifted her. “You’re sorry? For the inconvenience? I don’t think so.”
At the door, the trooper’s back stiffened, his shoulders a straight line beneath his navy blue rain jacket. His head tilted slightly as his chin rose.
“You aimed a gun at me.” She pointed at the couch. “You made me sit here and sweat, absolutely terrified that a package someone loaded onto my plane might have something in it that I didn’t know about. What if that had happened? Where would I be right now?” She stepped closer and huffed out a breath. “Trooper Stryker? That’s your name, right? You owe me so much more than a sorry. You and your dog.”
For a long moment, he stared out the door and across the airstrip as the sky outside began to brighten. The only movement was the rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathed. He was probably going to walk out and leave her to her righteous indignation.
But then, with one deep exhale, he dismissed the other trooper, who ducked out the door and disappeared.
Dude was probably grateful to get out of her heated presence.
Finally, Trooper Stryker turned toward her, though he didn’t quite meet her eye. He aimed a finger at the opposite end of the couch from where she stood. “Okay if I sit?”
“Fine.”
He was taller than she’d initially thought, slim and fit. When he swept his hat off his head, he smoothed back damp, dark hair that probably tended to curl when it was longer.
Jasmine shifted her attention to the dog at his side. The well-groomed collie sure was cute. He settled at his handler’s feet and rested his chin on his front paws. His longish hair was still wet, even though he’d likely already had a good shake before they came in. While the trooper might be on her bad side, his dog certainly didn’t deserve to be.
Jasmine looked over her shoulder at Maya. “Is there a spare towel around so we can dry the dog?”
“I can probably find something in the shed.” She pushed away from the desk and headed for the back door with a silent You okay?
Jasmine nodded and looked down at the dog as Maya left the room.
“His name’s Scout.” The trooper’s voice was gentler this time.
Jasmine ignored his attempt to offer an olive branch. “He looks for narcotics?”
“He’s a trained sniffer, yes.” Trooper Stryker cleared his throat and sat back on the couch. “You’re right. I didn’t need to be so short with you. And while the apology was a little curt, I promise it was sincere. There’s a lot of frustration right now, and it shouldn’t have come out on you.”
“I would never, ever transport drugs. I love the people out here. Their safety is why I do what I do, why I fly in these conditions.” She waved her hand toward the door where the sun now shone as though a rogue squall hadn’t just savagely beaten them. “Never in a million years would I haul drugs in here and cause that kind of harm. That’s not love. That’s the opposite. It’s selfish greed.”
“I understand.” He exhaled loudly. “But half an hour ago, all I had was a tip that Jasmine Jefferson was flying in narcotics and that she was armed and willing to do battle. I don’t know you. In fact, before today, I’d never even heard your name. And in my line of work, I can’t afford to assume everyone is kind and loving.” His fingers drummed on the worn arm of the couch. “That’s how troopers get killed.”
“And from my side? It’s not every day I have guns aimed at me.” If only she could say she’d never had one aimed at her. Swallowing hard, she forced herself to hold his gaze. “See it from my point of view.”
“Hence the apology. The sincere apology.” He slid forward on the sofa and rested his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands as he leaned forward and stared out the open door. “Actually, maybe you can help me.”
“You want me to help you? After how today went down?” Jasmine chuckled, but it was bitter, and it snapped off in the middle. She sounded like a shrew. Like someone who didn’t appreciate law enforcement when, in all honesty, she probably appreciated them more than most. While this guy had definitely started off on an incredibly wrong foot, and her fear had set fire to her anger, she knew she needed to dial it back. “I guess it’s my turn to toss the sorry out there.”
“Believe it or not, I understand.” He flashed a quick grin, but it didn’t last. “It’s hard on me and on Scout when we think we have a lead and it all falls apart. I want to take down the bad guys who are running drugs to these people. Right now, all we have are tips, and we have to follow every single one of them that is credible. The one about you was specific enough to be credible.”
“You got an anonymous tip about my plane, just like Kramer Anderson and the others.”
“We did. Only the others didn’t indicate weapons the way yours did.”
“So you want to catch the smugglers so badly that you launch at every tip like a bottle rocket?” Somehow, remembering that she wasn’t in this alone, that Kramer had been the victim, too,
eased her ire. “So what help do you need from me?”
“Bottle rocket? That’s a good one. And we only launch if there’s enough specific information to make the threat credible. If we ran after every anonymous tip, we’d never get any work done.” This time, he turned his head when he smiled at her. It changed everything about his face. Made him appear—
Jasmine looked away. Handsome or not, she had no reason to be noticing him.
Stryker stood and paced the room as though he was ready to be moving forward on his investigation rather than talking to her. “Over the past couple of months, we’ve had a spike in overdoses on the frontier to the northwest of the city. At some of the villages and outposts.”
Jasmine had heard as much, and she’d felt helpless to do anything about it. She’d lain awake at nights praying for the addicted and the hopeless.
“Scout and I have been called in to head up the investigation. It’s isolated out here. There’s no regular law enforcement. Even the trooper backing me up today just happened to be nearby. There’s no easy way in, so if we can cut off the supply chain at the head, then—”
“Then you can help keep everybody safe.” The last of Jasmine’s ire fizzled. While the trooper might have been unnecessarily abrupt, it was clear the safety of the people she served was paramount. “How did you get out here?”
“Helicopter. They’re waiting for me to call them to pick me up.” He pulled his phone from a clip on his belt, flicked the screen and read something, then tapped a few more times.
The silence stretched long. Was she free to go out and get the plane ready for her next hop? Or did she have to wait to be released? She was behind schedule and had two more stops to make. Every second the trooper spent reading his texts, more time ticked off the clock.
Seeming to sense her tension, Scout looked up then trotted over and rested his chin on Jasmine’s knee. His big brown eyes hinted at a bit of mischief. Instinctively, Jasmine scratched behind the dog’s damp ears. “Maya will get you dried off soon, buddy.”
At her words, the trooper tucked his phone away. Something in his expression had hardened, but it seemed to pass quickly as he watched her and his dog. “About my helicopter ride back to Fairbanks... I have a better idea, if you’re game for it. It has to do with what I mentioned earlier. A way you could help me.”
Jasmine pulled her hand from Scout’s head, and the dog settled at the trooper’s feet with a contented sigh. “You want me to fly you around.” The thought of spending the rest of the day cooped up with this guy in her tiny cockpit brought on even more stress.
And honestly? She sneaked a peek at him. From the top of his recently trimmed hair to the soles of his damp but highly polished shoes, he was buttoned-up blue uniform. Not the type to run around in the wild.
But she would help the people out here any way she could. “Did you offload my whole plane?”
“Dean and I did, but he said you’d have to reload some of the cargo since this was your first stop.”
“I have two more stops today, and now I’m running behind. If you help me reload, then you can hitch a ride with me. I’ll get you to Fairbanks by the end of the day.” She stood, resigned to the company of a man she wasn’t sure she could tolerate. She cast a quick look at his partner. At least the dog was cute. “But Scout gets the copilot’s seat. You can ride in the back.”
* * *
While Jasmine finished securing cargo and doing her preflight, Will led a now-leashed Scout around to the back of the building for a short walk before they hopped aboard for what would likely be a tense flight.
If he was quick and made sure no one managed to get within earshot, he had time to call Eli Partridge, the Alaska K-9 Unit’s tech whiz, to clarify the text Eli had sent earlier. If it was real, they might have a bigger mess on their hands than Will had ever considered.
Eli picked up before the phone even rang once. “You’re slow today. I thought I’d hear from you ten minutes ago while that text was still hot on my fingers.”
“I couldn’t answer right away. I had Jasmine Jefferson sitting right beside me. Are you sure your intel is right?”
“It’s a cursory search, but I’m already digging deeper.” Clicks and taps came through the line, evidence that the other man was multitasking as usual. “What I passed through to you is a little smelly to me. Jasmine Jefferson’s online history is thin. She has no digital trail at all. I mean, given her age and other demographic factors, it’s slightly suspicious to me that she’s not on social media. No online dating profiles either. I was able to tag one email address, and that seems to be all she has.”
“Did you track the email address? See what sites it’s been used on?”
“I went as far as I could, but I didn’t find any usernames that link to it.”
So Jasmine was hiding. But there were a lot of people in Alaska who were off the grid. In fact, his unit was working a case now that delved into that survivor mentality. “Lots of people stay away from social media.”
“But rarely without a reason. And she has a nice, clean record that doesn’t indicate any motive as to why she’d want to be invisible.”
That was true. He’d read her file on the helo flight up to Nemeti. Her schooling, previous jobs and training held nothing out of the ordinary. Other than a handful of parking tickets in Kansas and a speeding ticket in Illinois, there was nothing to blemish a spotless record. It made something at the back of his neck itch, although he couldn’t explain why. Hearing Eli say the same only heightened his wariness. “I’ll do some talking to her today. I’m flying out with her on the rest of her stops and will be back in Fairbanks later this evening.”
The tapping stopped. “Watch your back. Her plane might have been clean today, but that doesn’t mean it’s always clean.”
“Believe me, I know. Few people are as honest as they appear to be.” He’d fallen victim to that himself, and the fact that he’d been fooled still made his stomach clench.
“Jefferson could be hiding from someone she double-crossed. She could be trying to steer clear of a jealous ex. Or she could simply be a very boring, very private, very innocent bush pilot.”
Will doubted that. “Keep digging for me and see what you come up with.”
“Right now I’m knee-deep into some new intel on the Missing Bride case, but I’m running Jasmine’s driver’s license photo to see if we get a hit on facial rec. That takes time, though.”
Will glanced behind him. Jasmine was chatting with Dean, far enough away to be out of earshot. “What’s the latest on the bride case?” Five months earlier, oil heiress Violet James had vanished after someone murdered the tour guide for her wedding party’s trek into Chugach State Park. Her best friend had been shoved off a cliff and nearly killed. While Violet had been the initial suspect, intel now pointed squarely at her fiancé and his best man, who were on the run. The team hoped to apprehend the two men and locate Violet before anyone else was killed.
“Just following up on some leads coming in from Anchorage, since they’ve been spotted around there. ATM cameras, traffic cams, that kind of thing. So far, there’s nothing.” Eli exhaled heavily. “Anyway, I’m headed out on my lunch break to visit with my godmother, so you might not get anything from me before you get back to Fairbanks.”
Will let his head drop against the green metal siding of the small shed. He should have led with asking about Eli’s godmother. She was dying of cancer and had asked if the team could locate her son, a survivalist somewhere in the Alaska wilderness. So far, they’d been unable to locate any trace of him or his family, and the strain weighed heavily on Eli. “How is she?”
“Not good. I’m guessing we’re at the point that hospice is our next step.” Eli’s voice was heavy.
Will couldn’t make it better, but sure wished he could. “I’m sorry, man. As soon as I’m done up here, I’ll put some extra focus on your situatio
n. I know the clock’s ticking.”
“Thanks. And I’ll forward you anything else I find on Ms. Jefferson. Stay safe.”
“You, too.” Will killed the call and shoved his phone into its holster. He edged closer to the corner of the building and watched Jasmine chat with Dean on the muddy dirt. Her brown hair escaped her ball cap in ten different directions. While her stance was relaxed, her eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses. Everyone seemed to think she was perfect, but what if she wasn’t? What exactly was she hiding? Or who was she hiding from?
It was risky to fly off into the frontier alone with her, but she’d be foolish to try something when the whole world knew he and Scout were with her.
He looked down at his partner, who sat by his left foot. “Well, buddy, are you ready to fly?”
As if he understood, Scout jumped to his feet, prepared for action. He was going to need a serious brushing when they got back to the hotel tonight. Probably a bath, too. That rain shower hadn’t done his long coat any favors.
“Let’s get moving, Trooper!” Jasmine’s voice floated across the space between them. She strode toward the plane, probably anxious to go.
Hoping she was joking with him about having to ride in the cargo area, Will joined her in the front of the plane and secured Scout slightly behind and between their seats. He buckled himself in and watched as she finished her preflight preparations. Then she gave him a quick lecture on passenger behavior, including the need to stay silent during takeoff and landing.
Will situated his headset for the flight. After takeoff, he settled back for a few minutes to watch the terrain go by beneath them. While he spent most of his time in and around Anchorage and other cities, he frequently found himself in more remote areas. Two of his most recent cases had found him chasing down poachers with Trooper Poppy Walsh and her Irish wolfhound, Stormy, near Glacier Bay National Park and taking out a theft ring with Trooper Helena Maddox and her Norwegian elkhound, Luna, near Denali.
Still, Alaska never ceased to amaze him, and this remote area north of Fairbanks was one he hadn’t had the opportunity to see before. The state had so many different personalities, depending on where you decided to put your foot down. From the dangerously wild and untamed to the everyday civilized and modern, Alaska was a land that could make your head spin.