by Connie Mann
Hunter studied him for a moment. “What’s bothering you?” He had worked homicide in New Orleans before joining FWC and had great instincts. He also had great faith in his men’s instincts.
Josh narrowed his eyes as he scanned the area, trying to pinpoint what it was about his conversation with Delilah that nagged at him. “It’s nothing concrete. I just got the distinct feeling that there was more to the story than what she was saying.”
Which grated like sand in his shoes. Delilah had been trying to deflect his attention from something, not realizing that’d only made him more curious. And determined to get answers. His late fiancée, Elaine, hadn’t even told him she had cancer, let alone that she had refused treatment. He still hadn’t completely worked his way through the quagmire of guilt, fury, hurt, and frustration she’d left behind, but one thing was for sure. He’d never again let things slide when he wasn’t getting the whole story.
“You figure out where the gunfire came from earlier? Did she hear anything?” Hunter asked.
Josh rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “She said she heard it but didn’t seem to find it unusual. I didn’t see the Atwoods or anyone else in the vicinity. I couldn’t find the marijuana grow either, but maybe I got close and someone wanted to keep me away.”
Hunter studied him. “Keep digging until you get answers that make sense. Might not hurt to keep an eye on her, too, while we figure out what’s going on here.”
Before long, the medical examiner left with the body, and Sanchez and the biologist set up the trap and started tracking the bear. Hunter checked in with their captain, but Josh was only half listening. His mind was focused on the mystery of Delilah Paige.
Chapter 3
After Josh left, Delilah paced the small space. He was clearly suspicious because she’d acted guilty. The last thing she needed was a cop dogging her heels. Especially a gorgeous, funny, tempting cop who seemed to see past all her carefully constructed defenses. If John Henry suspected official heat of any kind, he’d pack up the family and disappear. Again.
She pulled Mary’s burned doll from her backpack, and the sight of it galvanized her. Here was proof of John Henry’s plan. She could no longer coast along with a vague hope that things would be different this time. She had to take action. Fast.
Once she checked her camera battery, she repacked her backpack. She had to think, and the forest had always been the best place to do it. She threw on a clean T-shirt, coated herself with more essential oil against the bugs, and set off on foot.
There were four documented troops of rhesus macaque monkeys that roamed the area near the Silver and Ocklawaha Rivers, and she’d been fascinated by them since childhood. So had her sister. When John Henry wasn’t around, Mama had let her take Mary and follow them for hours. Right now, she needed that sense of connection to her sister.
She also needed to burn off the antsy feelings inspired by Josh’s questions and piercing gaze. Delilah heard the monkeys chattering before she saw them and smiled. This was just what she needed, a distraction while her subconscious mind worked on a plan. She approached slowly but didn’t make eye contact, as they saw that as a sign of aggression.
She settled on a log and watched the alpha male approach from the corner of her eye. She tucked her backpack down between her knees and fiddled with her camera, head down as she waited. She heard rustling in the trees all around and knew the other monkeys were moving closer, waiting for his signal that there was food to be had. Doggone it. Why wouldn’t people follow the rules and quit feeding them?
She kept her breathing slow and even, though her heart rate picked up as the troop inched closer. She slid the air horn from her backpack, just in case she had to scare them away. Humans only used about 15 percent of their strength, but she’d read that a monkey used 85 percent. They were not only incredibly strong, they could be mean when thwarted. She wasn’t far from a walking trail, and based on the way the monkeys were watching her every move, they were obviously used to getting a handout.
The goal of her research—and her most fervent hope—was to convince people to leave the monkeys alone and stop feeding them. But she wasn’t naïve. People did what they wanted, especially when cute, furry creatures were involved. Slowly, she aimed the camera in the male’s direction and took several pictures of his expression before ducking her head again. Most of the current research outlined the dangers posed by the monkeys’ continued presence in the area. The viral video Wells had mentioned only added weight to that argument. But she’d watched the entire clip—not just what the news media showed in an endless loop—and sure enough, the family she’d spoken to had not only fed the monkeys, they’d started taunting them, too. That was what proponents for their removal didn’t want to talk about: the so-called signs of aggression could almost always be directly linked to people feeding the monkeys.
If her research could persuade people to leave them alone already and follow the rules, the safety barrier between humans and monkeys could be restored and the problem of “aggression” would resolve itself. Just thinking about that video sent enough fury racing through her veins that her hands shook. She took a deep breath and forced herself to relax. Even with no one around, she was poised to fight, ready to defend her beloved monkeys to anyone who would listen.
Which immediately brought Josh Tanner to mind. How could he not agree with her on this? His family owned a local outfitter. Tourists came from all over the country hoping to catch a glimpse of the rhesus macaques playing in the trees, and who could blame them?
The alpha male gave an angry screech, and she quickly captured his furious expression before she grabbed the air horn and braced for an attack. She chanced another peek. He still looked ready to charge, so she waited, motionless, as sweat beaded the back of her neck and mosquitos buzzed around her head.
After what seemed like hours, he sent her one more annoyed hiss and then turned and leaped up into the nearest tree. As soon as he moved, the tension dissolved as all the monkeys went back to whatever they’d been doing, completely ignoring her as they chattered among themselves, eating leaves and grooming one another.
Delilah let out a sigh of relief and then slowly raised her camera again. From what she could tell, there were at least four pregnant mothers. She couldn’t wait for the little ones to be born. Several mothers had already given birth, and she watched two young monkeys race up and down branches, leaping from one to the next, making her smile. One launched himself onto a sapling, and the branch bent almost to the ground. Looking panicked, he leaped into another tree, his little friend right behind him. She snapped dozens of photos, grinning. This was why her research mattered. Why they should be left in peace. She wanted the next generation to be able to see what she was seeing.
She’d bet old Colonel Tooey had no idea the firestorm of public opinion his marketing plan would launch. He had run a tour boat on the Silver River in the 1930s and imported a troop of rhesus macaques from India and set them on an island in the river, figuring they were a great way to get more customers aboard his jungle cruise. Imagine his surprise when he returned with his boatload of guest to find them gone. He hadn’t known the monkeys could swim. Decades later, the descendants of those monkeys still roamed the area while lawmakers and environmentalists debated their future.
The monkeys suddenly started chattering again. At the same time, Delilah heard a noise and snapped her head around, scanning the area. Had the alpha male snuck in behind her?
She waited, air horn gripped in her hand. When she didn’t spot him or any other creature, she used her zoom to scan the area but found nothing. “Mary?” she called quietly. She knew her sister showing up here was an eight-year long shot, but she still hoped.
The rustling came again, but there was no response. She stood, the prickly feeling at the base of her neck telling her someone was definitely watching. She just didn’t know if they were human or animal. “It’s okay,
Mary,” she said, but there was no answer.
She waited until long after the adult monkeys went back to grooming one another and the babies returned to their play before she headed back to her camper. She walked in roundabout loops, all her senses on alert.
She hadn’t been able to spot anyone, but that twitchy feeling between her shoulder blades convinced her someone was still out there.
She just didn’t know who.
Or why.
* * *
Josh pulled up to the community center with five minutes to spare. He’d assumed he’d have to cancel practice tonight, but Hunter insisted he go. All the guys in the Ocala FWC squad had gotten involved with the kids at the center in one way or another since so many didn’t have strong male role models. Just an hour of basketball practice several times a week was making a difference in their attitudes, their schoolwork, and how they carried themselves.
When he walked into the large steel-framed building, several of the boys were engrossed in an impromptu pickup game. “Hey, guys! How’s it going?”
Donny Thomas separated from the group and hurried over. The twelve-year-old had had a traumatic couple of weeks. “I didn’t think you were going to come today,” Donny said, just as he did every time Josh appeared.
He winced. After Elaine died, he’d been too angry to show up. His brother, Pete, and sister Charlee had pointed out none too gently that his anger was only hurting the boys. That got through, and now he never missed a practice if he could help it. He reached over and ruffled Donny’s hair. “Why wouldn’t I? Unless you didn’t want me to show because you know I’m still going to beat you.”
Donny snorted and sent him a lopsided grin. “You wish, old man. I’ve been practicing, and we’re going to whip your old butts.”
Josh laughed and grabbed a basketball from the box nearby. He tossed it to Donny, who caught it in both hands. “Big talk, boyo. Show me what you’ve got.”
For the next thirty minutes, he took the team through drills, relays, and other team-building activities to sharpen their skills. But everyone liked the end of practice best, when they divided into teams, kids against grown-ups.
As Josh raced up and down the court, he wished he could block everything from his mind as he usually did. But today, a pair of blue-gray eyes haunted him.
He’d bet his badge Delilah was in some kind of trouble. He didn’t know what kind yet, but he planned to find out.
Secrets destroyed people and relationships. He knew it wasn’t fair to compare the woman he’d planned to marry with someone he’d just met, but the fact that Elaine had hidden her illness from him still smoldered like a burning coal deep in his gut. He wanted to blame it all on her, certainly had for months, but he couldn’t lie to himself anymore. The truth was, he’d been a coward. He hadn’t pushed her for answers, even when his gut had told him something was very wrong. It’d been easier to back off when she refused to talk, to take her claims of being tired and overworked at face value. That was what gnawed at him in the dead of night. If he’d confronted her, would it have made a difference? He’d never know. Delilah and Elaine were not the same, and certainly the situations were completely different, but he was done with secrets and evasions.
It didn’t matter that Delilah hadn’t asked for his help and whatever she was involved with was none of his business, except as it involved his investigation.
He wouldn’t quit until he uncovered her secrets.
Chapter 4
Josh groaned when the alarm clock jolted him awake the next morning. He and the rest of the scrub squad had been out in the forest until almost two in the morning. While Sanchez, Hunter, and the biologist had tracked the bear and coaxed him into the trap for transport, Josh had installed a trail camera and then watched over the scene, just in case. While swatting mosquitos, he spotted a bobcat, three raccoons, and a couple of opossums, but no critters of the two-legged variety had passed his way.
Something about the whole scenario didn’t sit right. The fact that the victim had no defensive wounds and hadn’t fired his rifle was a huge red flag. Then there was the gunfire he’d heard. What happened out there?
He checked his watch and decided he’d swing by the Corner Café before meeting the squad at the Outpost. Never mind that his little cottage sat on Outpost property. He’d just go get a quick cup of coffee first, see if Delilah was there.
The moment he walked through the door, he wished he hadn’t. All conversation came to a halt, then chairs scraped the wooden floor as people hurried in his direction to bombard him with questions.
“Hey, Tanner, what’s this we hear about a bear attack in the forest yesterday?” Marion County commissioner Rory Kilpatrick asked as he stepped in front of Josh. Built like a lumberjack with a voice to match, Kilpatrick was a force of nature, and all eyes focused on the two men. Behind Kilpatrick, Josh saw Dwight Benson, another commissioner, and Bill Peterson, the mayor of Ocala, sitting at the table where Kilpatrick had been.
He raised his voice to be sure everyone heard him. “Come on now, Rory. You know as well as I do that I can’t comment on an ongoing investigation.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw reporter Casey Wells reach for his cell phone. “Lieutenant Boudreau will keep everyone apprised of the progress of the investigation as information becomes available.”
No way would he give Wells any other info. Hunter would have his hands full dealing with the arrogant reporter as it was.
Movement in his peripheral vision caught his eye, and Josh couldn’t help smiling as he spotted Delilah at the counter chatting with Charlee, who had just handed over one of her amazing cupcakes along with a cup of coffee.
“I heard that poor tenderfoot was all tore up by that bear,” Bill Peterson said, blocking Josh’s path.
He returned his attention to Bill and the rest of the crowd, frustrated as ever by the speed at which gossip traveled. “All I can say is that there was a fatality and there was evidence of a bear in the vicinity. FWC, in conjunction with the sheriff’s office, is investigating.”
“Have you caught the bear yet?” This from Wells.
“Lieutenant Boudreau will update the media at the press conference later today.”
He ignored the additional questions and pushed his way through to the small table in the back where Delilah sat sipping coffee.
He knew all eyes were on him as he approached her table. “Mind if I join you?” He didn’t wait for an answer, just slid into a chair and leaned forward slightly, voice low. “Are you okay this morning?”
The dark circles under her eyes said she hadn’t slept well, but her half smile was genuine if not at full power. “Doing okay, considering.” She cocked her head in that adorable way she had and ran her blue eyes over him. “You look like you’ve been rode hard and put away wet, Hollywood.”
He snorted at the expression and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Sounds about right.” He paused, capturing her gaze. “Have you thought of anything else that might help the investigation?”
Her eyes slid over his uniform, and then her gaze caught on something behind him. Her expression suddenly cooled, and her hands tightened on her coffee cup. “I believe I answered all your questions yesterday, Officer Tanner. I have no new information.”
The chair next to him scraped the floor as Wells slid into it. “Since that other monkey researcher was attacked in the forest last year, is there a chance these two cases are connected?”
Irritation flared at the man’s untimely arrival and choice of questions. Lucky guess or had someone at the medical examiner’s office or FWC leaked word of the monkey photos found on the dead man’s camera?
Without waiting for an answer, Wells turned to Delilah. “Miss Paige, did you know the victim?”
Delilah’s face went carefully blank. “Why would I know him?”
“There is some speculation that he was also studying t
he monkeys. And last year, that researcher from UF was almost beaten to death.” Wells shrugged. “Just thought maybe you researcher types all know each other.”
Josh watched Delilah swallow hard and tug on her chin-length hair, like she was reaching for a ponytail that wasn’t there anymore. He’d seen the same nervous gesture yesterday. “No. I’d never met the man.”
“Where are you getting your information, Wells?” Josh demanded.
“I have my sources. You know how it is, Officer.” He shrugged, and Josh fought the urge to snatch him by the shirtfront and demand he spill, but he knew that wouldn’t work. He also knew he’d never get a moment alone with Delilah now.
Josh glanced at his watch, pushed his chair back. “I’m sure you have other things to do this morning, Wells.”
The reporter leaned back in his chair, smile wide. “Actually, I have plenty of time to—”
The bell above the door jangled, and Delilah looked up. All the color leached out of her face, and she shoved her chair back, grabbed her coffee. “I need to go.”
Josh glanced over his shoulder and spotted Aaron and John Henry Atwood with another man he didn’t recognize standing near the county commissioners. Casey Wells was still talking as Josh grabbed his coffee and followed her out the door. “Delilah, wait up,” he called as he hurried over to her truck. “I thought you knew the Atwoods.” Hadn’t she said she’d gone to their campsite to talk with them?
The question seemed to surprise her. “I do. But with that reporter there, now isn’t a good time.” She opened the door to her truck.
“Did something happen with them yesterday?” he asked, putting a gentle hand on her arm.
She froze, swallowed hard. “I’ve told you everything I can.” Her eyes darted to the door of the café. “I really need to go.”
She climbed into her truck and never glanced his way as she roared out of the parking lot. She would have run over his boots if he hadn’t jumped back in time. Why had the sight of the Atwoods spooked her?