by Connie Mann
And from a purely practical stance, he wanted to make sure no one was hanging around her camper who didn’t belong. Her remote spot and dark-green paint hadn’t escaped his notice. He just wasn’t sure if that was to keep her safely inside or to keep other people out.
As he reached her campsite, he watched her leave, flashlight in hand, but it wasn’t turned on. All his senses went on alert. Where was she going?
He followed her deeper and deeper into the forest. She stopped every so often to turn the flashlight on, scan the area, then turn it back off. She was obviously looking for something.
When she finally stopped and sat down on a rock, he positioned himself behind a tree so he could keep an eye on her and the small clearing around her.
Mosquitoes buzzed around his head, and sweat trickled down his back by the time a young woman stepped out of the shadows.
The teen was wearing the long skirt and boots typical of the ultraconservative, fundamentalist families who lived here in the forest. When she launched herself at Delilah, he was shocked. Who was she? And how did Delilah know her?
Before he could make sense of that, rifle fire erupted, and the dirt at their feet exploded. The young woman disappeared, Delilah hot on her heels.
Josh took off after them, gun at the ready.
* * *
Delilah raced after Mary, ignoring the gunshots spitting sand up at her. She’d pulled her weapon from her waistband, but she didn’t fire, wouldn’t risk hitting Mary by mistake. She just had to find her, fast.
If Mary disappeared now, Delilah might never see her again. Her family would disappear, and their like-minded friends would make sure no one could find them. She couldn’t bear the idea of her sister going through what she had.
She ran despite the bullets that just kept coming. Some part of her brain was surprised she wasn’t down on the ground, bleeding, but whoever it was knew exactly where they were placing those shots. They were trying to keep her away, not kill her.
The moon slid behind some clouds, and Delilah momentarily lost sight of her sister. One minute, Mary was ahead of her, and the next, she’d disappeared.
Delilah ran farther, heart pounding, until the gunshots stopped and the silence told her Mary was gone. Panting, defeated, she collapsed against a live oak tree and slid down to the ground. Bark scraped her back, but she didn’t notice. “Oh God. Mary.”
She’d hoped once her sister knew she’d come to rescue her, she’d meekly follow and they’d get the heck out of Dodge. Easy-peasy. She snorted at her own naïveté. What had made perfect sense in her Tallahassee apartment she now saw for the same childlike thinking that had gotten her trapped eight years ago.
Frustrated, she climbed to her feet. She wasn’t that scared girl anymore, but she understood Mary’s thinking. Her sister had no doubt been rigorously indoctrinated into the importance of family and sticking together against the outside world. Her reaction tonight said she’d also seen enough to want to protect Mama.
But given the gunshots, Mary’s cooperation was only part of the equation. Either Aaron or John Henry obviously didn’t want her to leave. They didn’t go to that much trouble for a “mere woman” without good reason.
Which meant she not only had to find them, she had to find out exactly what they were planning so she could use that as leverage, too.
* * *
When Delilah stopped behind a tree, Josh deliberately made noise as he approached so as not to startle her. He was shocked to his toes when she stepped into view, Glock held in front of her, hands rock steady on the grip, eyes hard. “Hands up and move closer so I can see you,” she ordered.
He froze, stunned. Her confidence hit him square in the gut and made the attraction he felt for her burn even hotter. Damn, she looked good like that.
“It’s Josh Tanner, Fish and Wildlife. Please put down the gun, Delilah, for my safety and yours.”
Through his night-vision goggles, he saw her eyes narrow in surprise and suspicion, but she immediately holstered the gun.
He stepped into the small clearing, hands on his utility belt, in reach of his own weapon.
She gave his uniform a quick once-over, then fisted both hands on her hips. “What are you doing here?”
“I was going to ask you the same question,” he responded, her attitude fueling his own. He pulled off his goggles. “Why are you sneaking around out here in the middle of the night?”
She huffed out a breath. “Seriously? Since when can’t people go outside at night without being interrogated by Fish and Wildlife?”
He almost laughed at her belligerent tone. Almost. But then he noticed the pain shadowing her features. He softened his voice. “Who were you meeting with?”
Her chin came up, lips pursed. “I’m not sure that’s any of your concern.”
She was dressed in black from head to toe, the fabric of her T-shirt clinging to her curves, her hands propped on a utility belt that looked a lot like his own. He’d thought her beautiful when she was sipping coffee. But whoever the girl was, she’d sent Delilah into full-on protective mode, reminding him of Xena, the warrior princess. He felt the jolt all the way to his toes.
He took a step closer, and she stilled. When he reached out and plucked a leaf from her hair, she captured his wrist, questions swirling in her huge blue eyes. Seconds ticked by as they watched each other, her mix of strength and vulnerability drawing him closer. He ran his thumb along her jaw, and her grip on his arm tightened. He studied her lips, lush and full, and the urge to taste had him inclining his head. Inches before their mouths touched, their eyes met, held. She blinked, effectively breaking the spell as she eased out of reach.
He shook his head to clear his muddled thoughts. Focus, Tanner. “Who was the girl?”
She crossed her arms over her chest and regarded him steadily. “And if I said, again, that it was none of your business?”
“I would say I was making it my business, since you are considered a person of interest in a recent death here in the forest.”
Her eyes narrowed right before she huffed out a laugh and called his bluff. “Seriously? You and your FWC buddies have declared me a person of interest because some poor hunter got killed by a bear?”
Josh had to tread lightly. He couldn’t discuss an active investigation, but that death scene wasn’t right, which was why he was out here in the middle of the night to begin with.
“Who is she?”
“I don’t like being backed into a corner, Officer Tanner.”
She scanned the forest as though looking for answers, and he wondered again where her obvious distrust of law enforcement came from. Finally, she turned and glanced at him over her shoulder. Moonlight slid over her short dark hair and left her eyes in shadow. Tension vibrated off her in waves. “Her name is Mary.”
Josh propped his fists on his hips. “Are you going to make me drag this information out of you one word at a time?”
“Never answer a question you haven’t been asked. And never offer more information than what is required.” She tossed the words out in a way that made Josh think they had been drilled into her from childhood.
He pulled back his irritation. There was something else at play here, something that clearly worried her. “I am not your enemy, Delilah. But I do need answers.” He paused. “How about a last name, if that won’t offend your sensibilities too much?”
He watched one side of her mouth kick up in a half smile. Then she sighed. “Atwood.”
“Any relation to John Henry Atwood?”
She looked away. “She’s his daughter.”
His mind spun as everything he knew about the Atwoods raced through his mind. “How do you know her? There’s quite an age gap between you two.”
The silence went on so long, he thought she wouldn’t answer. Finally, she seemed to come to some decision and let out a breath. The
eyes that met his held challenge. “She’s my sister.”
The word hit Josh like a slap. Delilah was John Henry Atwood’s daughter? He searched his memory and found no mention of her anywhere. How had they managed to hide a daughter? Of course, he was gone for a few years after college, flying for a small commuter airline in Alabama. And given the way the Atwoods kept to themselves and avoided law enforcement and local government officials, it wasn’t really surprising. Especially since they moved their campsite regularly. The sheriff’s office and the Ocala FWC squad kept an eye on all the militia and survivalist types who lived in the area, but they usually went no further than that. Not without good reason.
He studied the woman in front of him, trying to reconcile all the bits and pieces that were Delilah Atwood. There were far too many gaps for him to see her clearly. But by the light of the moon shining down on the clearing, two things became abundantly clear. Delilah Atwood was not only worried; she was spitting mad.
“Do you know who was shooting at you?”
“Not definitively, no. Though I have a couple guesses.” Flames practically shot from her eyes.
Josh suddenly realized the shooter had taken great care not to hit either woman. “John Henry or Aaron?”
She spared him a glance before she spun on her heel and walked toward the edge of the clearing.
Josh hurried after her as she melted into the forest. She retraced her steps to where she and her sister had been talking and scooped up a cell phone and a plastic bag with what looked like a bundle of fabric inside it.
“Talk to me, Delilah. Please. Let me help.”
She stopped and stared at him. By the light of the moon, he saw myriad emotions cross her face. Besides the anger, he caught a flash of longing, layered with worry and a plea for understanding, all swirling in her big blue eyes. But then she looked away and clenched her jaw as though holding words back. “I appreciate that, but you can’t. This is a family matter, something I have to deal with myself.” She squared her shoulders and set off again.
He easily caught up to her and matched his steps to hers. “You don’t have to say a word to me if you don’t want to, but if you’re heading back toward your camper”—he hitched a thumb over his shoulder—“you’re heading in the wrong direction.”
* * *
Delilah glanced up to see Josh grinning at her in the moonlight. Part of her wanted to throw her arms around him and laugh at his absolute audacity. And the other part wanted to shove him away with both hands because he kept turning up, kept looking at her like he wanted to kiss her senseless, and seemed completely impervious to all her attempts to push him away. “Since you’re about as hard to get rid of as a deer tick, you might as well lead the way. The faster we get there, the faster I’ll be rid of you.” She couldn’t help smiling as she said it.
But then her smile faded. Delilah was discovering that under Josh’s laid-back exterior and sexy grin, he had a stubborn streak.
And therein lay the danger. No matter how affable he seemed, he was still FWC. She’d been a fool to tell him as much as she had. She couldn’t risk him or anyone else digging around in her family’s business. Not before she had Mary with her. If they connected the Atwoods to the guns she’d seen and started making arrests… No. She couldn’t allow that. No matter how tempted she was to explore the heat that flared whenever she was around Josh, she had to keep him at arm’s length.
Her focus had to stay on Mary.
* * *
Josh considered Delilah’s acquiescence a small victory. He threw his left arm out with an “after you” motion and then put a casual hand at the small of her back. He expected her to step away, but eventually, she loosened up enough that they walked in companionable silence.
Questions crowded his tongue. He wanted to know why she was meeting her sister alone in the forest at night, why he’d never heard of another Atwood daughter, why she called herself Delilah Paige, why shadows crossed her eyes when she didn’t think anyone was looking. The sadness especially called to him, something they had in common, and he wanted to know its cause.
But the woman wore her secrets like a winter coat. What was she hiding? He had to assume part of it was being raised under John Henry’s iron control and mistrust of law enforcement, but what was the rest? Why had John Henry or Aaron been trying to scare the two women?
By the time her small camper came into view, Josh hadn’t voiced a single one of his questions. The fact that she’d allowed him to walk her home seemed a major victory. If he pushed hard right now, he had no doubt that the next time he came by, her camper would have disappeared.
He walked her to the rickety steps that led inside.
She paused, hand on the door latch. “I know you want to help, and I appreciate it, but what you saw tonight has nothing to do with the dead man I found in the forest. I can’t help your investigation.”
He studied her. Interesting. Who was she protecting? Her sister?
“Thank you for walking me home, Officer Tanner.”
The blatant attempt to keep distance between them made him grin. He picked up one of her hands and raised it to his lips, watching her eyes widen. “When I’m with you, I’m just Josh, okay?”
Their eyes met and held, attraction sizzling like a live wire, pulling them closer. She looked down at his thumb rubbing the back of her hand, then met his eyes and tightened her grip. She took a step toward him, their chests a hairsbreadth from touching. “Can you separate the two?” Her voice was low, husky.
He swallowed hard, then opened his mouth to insist that of course he could, but the lie wouldn’t come. Josh the man and Josh the cop were one and the same. “I’ll do my very best.” He deliberately stepped back before he blurred the lines even further. “Lock up behind me, Delilah,” he said and walked back into the forest.
Chapter 6
Josh stopped by the Corner Café early the next morning on the off chance Delilah would be there. He should have known she’d avoid him, since she’d basically told him to butt out of her business, but he’d hoped for a few minutes with her just the same.
Liz greeted him with a smile as he came through the door. This early, it wasn’t too crowded yet. “How you doing this morning, Hollywood?” She eyed him up and down. “Hate to say it, but you look rough.” She smiled to take the sting out of her words.
“I’m fine.” He looked at the display of cupcakes behind her. “How about a dozen of those chocolate ones with the white frosting?” He didn’t want to take all the inventory before the regulars arrived.
She grinned as she reached below the counter for a box. “Squad meeting this morning?”
He raised a brow. “Trying to break the donut stereotype.”
“Good thinking.” She boxed them up, opened the register to make change.
He turned to go, but Liz leaned closer and asked, “Have they found out who that poor hunter was yet?” She shuddered. “I can’t imagine being attacked by a bear.”
“No matter how good your coffee, Liz, you know I can’t talk about an investigation.”
She grinned. “Figured it couldn’t hurt to ask, Hollywood.”
The bell above the door jangled merrily as Commissioner Dwight Benson and his good buddy Mayor Bill Peterson sauntered in, Commissioner Rory Kilpatrick hot on their heels. Even though Ocala had grown over the years, at heart it was still a very small town, with all the political power in the hands of a few. These three assumed that meant them and no one else.
Josh nodded as he passed. “Gentlemen.”
“Not so fast, Tanner,” Benson said, stepping in his path. “You have any more news about that poor hunter?”
Josh kept his expression neutral. “Now, Dwight,” he began, making sure his look encompassed all of them, “you know you’ll get whatever information we have just as soon as we get it.”
The bell jangled again, and Josh step
ped aside to let the next customer in. Aaron Atwood strolled through the door. He stiffened momentarily when he spotted Josh, but then his expression cleared, and he touched the brim of his hat as he passed.
Josh turned to go but happened to glance up just as Aaron and Dwight made eye contact. The look Benson aimed Atwood’s way could have blistered paint. The one Atwood shot back was equally lethal looking. Atwood didn’t say a word, simply stalked to the counter and ordered coffee.
As Josh headed toward the meeting Hunter had called at the Outpost, his mind spun. For a guy who came from such a tightly closed community, what was Aaron doing at the café two mornings in a row? And what was that look between him and Benson all about?
* * *
Delilah stumbled into the tiny bathroom of her camper the next morning and squinted at her reflection. She shoved her hair back and groaned at the ever-darkening circles under her eyes. If she didn’t get some sleep and soon, she wouldn’t be able to help anyone.
As she’d tossed and turned, she’d berated herself for blurting out Mary’s name. Why did she keep letting herself get sidetracked by Josh’s great smile, sad eyes, and caring personality? He was FWC, for crying out loud.
She wished she’d kept quiet, but he would have found out anyway. Maybe now he’d think the mystery was solved and leave her alone. Which was what she wanted, right?
By 2:00 a.m., she’d given up all attempts to sleep. Only two people could have taken those shots last night: either her father or Aaron. It wasn’t her own dumb luck or skill in running away. Which meant one of them had followed Mary. What would they have done when they realized Mary had spoken to her?
That question haunted her the rest of the night. She’d pulled out her laptop and focused on typing her research notes, because every time she stopped, her mind flashed back to her childhood, times she had either innocently or deliberately broken one of her father’s rules. As punishment, John Henry regularly locked her out of the camper, forcing her to spend the night in the woods. She shivered, remembering. Had they done the same to Mary?