by Nicole Helm
He rolled his shoulders as he pulled into the parking lot for the trail Felicity had been hiking. This wasn’t about him, his issues or even his stupid feelings.
This was about Felicity. Helping her with a sad coincidence. Coming across her second dead body in as many years.
He ignored a tingly this is all wrong feeling between his shoulder blades and flashed a broad grin to the cop stationed at the blocked-off trailhead.
He pulled out his badge, did some sweet-talking and was heading toward Felicity in a few minutes.
Once he reached the area where the cops and park rangers were huddled, he stopped short and took a minute to observe Felicity. She sat on a rock away from the circle of people. She was deathly pale, her fingers twisted together, and she stared hard at them.
His heart ached, very much against his will. As a sheriff’s deputy for Valiant County, he’d dealt with his share of victims and innocent bystanders of awful things. He knew how to deal with the walking wounded.
But he actually knew Felicity, and had since he’d escaped to Grandma’s ranch. He’d been eleven to her nine. He’d witnessed her nearly mute elementary years, an awkward-at-best adolescence and then eventually this change in her. Now, in front of him sat a woman who was not falling apart though she had every right to.
That twisting feeling dug deeper so he pushed himself forward. “Hey.”
She looked up slowly, her eyebrows drawing together in dawning confusion. “I called Brady.”
The twist grew teeth, and he might have grinned negligently in a different situation. But she’d just found a body, so Gage shrugged instead and didn’t let the burn of her disappointment settle inside of him. “He sent me. I was closest.”
She stared at him for a few seconds before she finally jerked her chin in some approximation of a nod. “They already—” she swallowed, a slight tremor going through her body “—moved the body out.”
“Any ID?”
Felicity shook her head. “Nothing on her.”
“Her. So, this is different than...” He winced at how insensitive he sounded. Sure, it worked when you were a cop. Not so much when you were here as a friend.
She paused. “Yes,” she said finally, in a way that was not convincing at all. “Different.”
“Let’s get you back to your place, huh?”
She gestured helplessly at the team of cops and park officials. “I have to...”
“They know where to find you if they need more information. Come on. You probably haven’t eaten since breakfast.” He pulled her to her feet and easily slid his arm around her shoulders since he knew she’d balk at moving if he didn’t give her a physical push.
She smelled like flowers and summer. Quite the opposite of the situation they were dealing with.
She pressed a hand to her stomach, her heels all but digging in where she stood. “I couldn’t eat. I can’t.”
“We’ll see. You want to walk back?”
She looked around, dismay clear as day on her face. “No, but I need to.”
He understood that. If she didn’t walk back the way she’d come, she’d be afraid of returning this way even when her job necessitated it.
Still, he had to give her a push, and he tried not to feel a bit sick over the fact he was forcing her to do something she didn’t want to do. Even if she needed to. He followed the trail back toward her cabin, keeping a tight grip on her shoulders as they walked.
A cold drizzle began to fall, but neither of them commented on it or hurried their pace. It felt like a slow trudge through chilled molasses, and Gage didn’t have the heart to speed her up even as she began to shiver.
When they got to the authorized-user-only trail, Gage took it without qualm. It would lead to her park housing, and he’d get some food in her. Encourage her to rest.
Then, when she wasn’t so pale, he’d head back to the ranch. Felicity wouldn’t want him to stay anyway. She’d either handle it on her own, or he’d call one of her sisters for her.
Her little cabin was situated in a small grove of trees. It was old, but she’d infused it with a kind of hominess, though he couldn’t identify how. Just that it looked like a nice place.
He reached the door and waited for her to pull out her keys. She unlocked the door and stepped inside.
He’d hoped the walk would have helped put some color back in her cheeks, but she still looked pale as death and like a stray wind might knock her over. Her red hair was damp, and the tendrils that had escaped her braid stuck to her ashen skin.
“Go change into something dry.”
She looked up at him, her green eyes lost and sad. She didn’t say anything, just stood there looking at him.
“Go on. I’ll fix you something to eat while you change.”
She shook her head. “I’ll just throw it up.”
“We’ll see. Go on now.” He shooed her toward where he figured her bedroom was, down a short, narrow hallway.
He went to the cramped kitchen and poked around for something to make that would go down easy. He found an unreasonable amount of tea and picked one that looked particularly soothing. He followed the instructions, trying not to feel claustrophobic in her closet of a kitchen.
When she returned she didn’t look any less lost, but she was in dry sweatpants and a long-sleeved T-shirt for Mammoth Cave National Park. She stood at the entrance to the kitchen taking in her surroundings like it was somewhere she’d never been before.
“Sit,” he ordered, uncomfortable with how fragile she seemed.
She nodded after a time and then took a seat at her tiny table. He set the mug of tea in front of her. “You’ll drink all of that,” he said, trying to sound as commanding as his grandmother did when she was forcing food on someone.
She didn’t drink, just stared at the mug. “They think I have something to do with it,” she said, her voice so quiet he almost couldn’t make out the words. “I can tell.”
“No. You’ve been through this before. You know how it goes.” He found a loaf of bread and dropped a slice in the toaster. “They have questions they have to ask just to make sure, but—”
“It’s the second time.” She lifted her gaze to meet his, and there was nothing timid or uncertain about her, as there had been in the past. No, she was in complete control, even lost and scared. “The questions were different. And they’re right. It does. It has something to do with me. I know it does.”
Chapter Two
Something about Gage’s large form taking up almost the entire space in her tiny kitchen made Felicity want to blurt out everything that was going on in her brain.
He was making her tea and toast. She wanted to lay down her head and cry. She expected her sisters to take care of her. She even expected Duke to take care of her—he’d had to step in as mother along with father when Eva had died. He’d done his best.
Her foster family had always done their best, just like their friends the Wyatts.
But this was Gage. Gage always made her feel edgy. Like she was on uneven ground. You never knew what Gage was going to do or say, and she preferred knowing exactly what was going to happen.
Sometimes she blamed his size for the discomfort she felt. He was so tall and broad and, Lord, he packed on the muscle. But Brady was the exact same size, just as strong and broad, and Brady only ever made her feel safe. Comfortable.
Gage set down a plate with a piece of buttered toast in front of her. Her cheap, cute floral dishes looked all wrong in his hands.
Today was all, all wrong.
“Why do you think it has something to do with you?” he asked as he took a seat across from her.
“You made me tea and toast.” She could only stare at the wisps of steam drifting up from the mug. Gage Wyatt...had made her tea and toast?
“You’re lucky. If Grandma Pauline was here, she would have m
ade a five-course meal and insisted you eat every bite.”
It was true. His grandmother soothed with food—whether you wanted food as soothing or not. Tea and toast was a lighter option, and her stomach might actually be able to handle it. So she sipped the tea, took a bite of toast and avoided the topic of conversation at hand.
“Felicity.”
She winced at the gentleness in his tone. “Why did Brady send you?” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m sorry. That sounds ungrateful.”
He shrugged again, just as he had outside when she’d made a point of telling him he wasn’t who she’d been expecting. There was something in his gaze when he gave those careless shrugs that made her heart feel weighted. Like she’d said something all wrong and hurt his feelings.
Which was ludicrous. Gage did not get hurt feelings, especially at her hands.
“Like I said outside, I was closest.” He tapped his fingers on the table, the only sign of agitation.
“You’ve been very...nice,” she said, not even sure why she wanted to try to make him feel better when any hurt or agitation had to be her imagination.
“I’m always nice.”
“No. That is not true. Not that you’re mean, but I’m not sure anyone would describe you as nice.” Gage was challenging. He was irreverent. He made her jumpy. Even when he was doing something nice.
“Felicity. Why do you think this crime connects to you?”
The toast turned to lead in her throat and she had to work to swallow it down. She didn’t want to talk about it, but she needed to. She needed help. From someone in law enforcement who would listen to her. “It was the same.”
“A woman this time,” he noted. “So, not exactly the same.”
“Maybe not the who, but it was my morning hike. My routine. I’ve changed it a little since last year, but I always have a routine.” Routine steadied her. Made her feel strong and in control, and now she wasn’t sure she’d be able to have one or feel that ever again. “The last time, it was my routine hike. My personal routine hike—not work related. Just like this time.”
He nodded and waited patiently for her to work up to say the rest of it.
“The boot in the trail. Unlaced. That happened last time, too. I stumbled over the boot last time. This time I saw it in the nick of time—probably the pink laces.” Those laces would haunt her forever.
“Okay. So you saw the boot, and then what?”
She’d already told the Pennington County deputies and her boss the answer to that question. Over and over in a circle. But she hadn’t explained to them what she was about to explain to Gage. “I told them I looked on the sides of the trail to see if anyone had had an accident.”
“You told them...”
“I knew where the body would be. I looked on the left side first because that wasn’t where the body was last time. I looked to the left and there was no one there, but I had to check. It would be on the right side of the trail. I didn’t want there to be, but I just... I just knew the body would be where it had been last time. Only a few feet off the trail.” She shoved away the tea and the toast and got to her feet. “I can’t...”
There was nowhere to go in her tiny cabin. Stomp off to her room like a child? Tempting.
But Gage walked right over to her, putting his big hands on her shoulders and squeezing them enough to center her in the moment.
He was so dang tall, and it was unreasonable how broad-shouldered he was. When he was clean-shaven, he looked so much like Brady it got hard to tell them apart. But their eyes were different. Brady’s hazel edged toward brown, and Gage’s green. Gage’s nose was crooked, and he had a scar through his eyebrow.
Brady’s face was perfect. Gage’s was...
“You know, Brady told me I needed to be gentle with you.”
Those words felt like cold water being splashed in her face. “I’m not a shy little girl anymore,” she snapped, trying to shrug off his hands. When would they all see that? It wasn’t enough she’d helped save Cody and Nina from one of the Sons last month? Honestly.
“That’s what I told him,” Gage said, which had her looking up in confusion.
“You...”
“Anyone who’s paying attention can see you’ve changed, Felicity. You’re an adult. You’ve found yourself or whatever you want to call it.”
Did that mean Gage was paying attention? Impossible.
“Now. You’ve done this before. So, don’t say you can’t when we both know you can and you will.”
She sucked in a breath. He was right. It didn’t quite steady her, though. Why was Gage of all people right? And why were his big hands on her narrow shoulders?
As if he’d read her thoughts, his hands slid away and he stepped back, shoving his hands into his pockets.
“Why couldn’t it be random? I mean, it looks like the killings connect. It’s not accidental and it’s not suicide. It’s murder—even I could see that no matter how much they tried to BS me. But just because it’s murder, doesn’t mean you’re the key. Maybe Badlands is the common denominator. Maybe you’re just...”
“Unlucky?”
“Sure. Why not? The bodies aren’t showing up on your doorstep.”
“Just on trails I walk as a matter of course,” she returned, wishing she could believe his coincidence theory. “That boot wasn’t an accident, and it wasn’t placed there yesterday when anyone could have come across it. It was put there so I would come across it.”
“Okay.” He nodded, taking a few more steps away from her.
It seemed odd, the forced distance, but she could hardly think about anything going on with Gage when she had a dead body to worry about.
“If you’re being targeted...why?”
“I don’t know.” She didn’t have a clue. Maybe she’d believe it was her connection to the Wyatts. She’d shot one of the Sons of the Badlands men to help Nina and Cody escape Ace Wyatt’s machinations. Except she’d never had a personal interaction with Ace Wyatt, the president of the gang and Gage’s father, who was now in jail.
But jail hadn’t stopped Ace from making things happen on the outside last month. Why would she think he couldn’t reach her now?
The problem was that last month was the first time she’d ever interfered with Sons business, which didn’t explain the first body from a year ago.
Unless that had been an accident and this was a copycat?
“You think it’s Ace.”
Felicity looked up at Gage because his voice was so flat. Even when Gage got angry he usually hid it under that natural irreverence. It was why she preferred Brady. Brady was rather stoic, but when he showed an emotion you knew what emotion you were getting. Gage was unpredictable.
Even now. She didn’t know what that cold, flat voice meant. She only knew it was possible this connected to his crime boss of a father, even if Ace was in jail and the Sons of the Badlands seemed to be getting weaker.
“I don’t know. I don’t know, but I interfered last month.”
“It wouldn’t connect all the way back to last year.” He kept talking before she could offer her theory. “But it wouldn’t have to—it would just have to look like it. Sounds like Ace.”
She nodded. “I need you to help me figure out if it is, Gage. I can’t trust the local police to do it. I’m sure they’re fine at their jobs, but they don’t know Ace, and they’re afraid of the Sons. You aren’t.”
“Everyone is afraid of the Sons, Felicity. It’s stupid not to be.” He sighed, presumably at the horrified look on her face. “We’ll figure it out. Okay?”
* * *
SHE WAS STANDING still as a statue, looking at him like he’d slapped her across the face when he’d simply told her the truth.
Even if the Sons were weaker than they’d been, they were still dangerous. Too dangerous, and anyone with a connection to Ace Wyatt w
as definitely in the most danger.
They were working on getting more charges leveled against Ace, thanks to three of the men who had been arrested after trying to hurt Cody and Nina and their daughter last month. But it still wouldn’t add up to a life sentence, even if he was found guilty at his upcoming trial for the first round of charges.
Unfortunately, no matter how sure Jamison and Cody were that the law would keep Ace powerless—when Ace had already proved jail couldn’t—Gage had doubts.
Major doubts.
Felicity had been integral in the arrest of one of those men who was potentially going to take the stand against Ace. It made sense she’d be targeted.
Gage’s phone chimed and he looked down at the text from Brady.
I can relieve you if you want.
Felicity would want Brady. She deserved the Wyatt brother she preferred even if her crush was hopeless. Brady didn’t have a clue who Felicity really was. Gage wasn’t convinced his twin could ever look at the Knight fosters and not see a sister. Or at the least think, Hands off.
Brady would always toe the unofficial line. Gage never did.
No worries, he typed and hit Send before he could talk himself into doing the right thing.
Maybe Felicity wanted Brady, but Gage would be the better helper in this situation. He was willing to bend a few more rules than Brady. Besides, she’d said she needed his help. Maybe it was only because he was here, but hell, he was here.
“Once they ID her, we’ll want to see how she connects to the first victim.”
Felicity shook her head and took a seat. “I don’t think the victims matter. I mean, they matter. To their families. To me. But they’re not the point to whoever is doing this.”
“Maybe not, but we’ll research it all the same. We’ll go over things. Maybe you should stay at the ranch until this blows over.”
She was shaking her head. “I have a job to do. If I run away from that—”
“They’re going to put you on leave. They did last time, didn’t they?”
“They can’t. It’s summer this time. It’s busy season. I’m scheduled for programs and...” She trailed off as her phone buzzed. She swallowed and looked at the screen. “It’s my boss.”