Buck Ferguson was noticeably absent. According to the locals, he and his wife had spent most of the last month with their daughter in Boise. Sane World had, for now, switched its website’s focus to Western ranchers’ historic rights to graze their cattle on government lands.
The cougar lurched to his feet and stood blinking at the handful of onlookers. Carolyn straightened and backed away. The cat swished his long tail back and forth uncertainly.
Sam snapped another photo, then reached into the pack at her feet. She raised a pistol into the air, pressed the trigger.
The gun’s report was loud in the narrow canyon. The reporters ducked; the vet dropped the clipboard she’d been writing on. The mountain lion gathered his feet beneath him and leapt a good fifteen feet away from the crowd. He bounded up the steep slope toward the helicopter, and then, catching sight of the strange machine, veered off downhill to the south, racing toward the canyon’s exit. The muscles of his shoulders and haunches rippled under the tawny coat as he streaked across the rock; his long sleek tail streamed out behind him.
Oh, to be able to run like that, all out and effortless at once. Sam dropped the pistol into the pack, sat down on a rock ledge. Mutters of disapproval erupted all around her. Jerry Thompson and the TV crew glared. She plastered a cheery smile on her lips and waved. The hell with them.
Perez sat down beside her. “I see you’re packing heat now.”
“Starter pistol,” she explained. “I borrowed it from a friend. I never want another cougar to get the impression that people are friends.”
The FBI agent wore a fleece-lined leather jacket over an Irish fisherman sweater and blue jeans. The crease was gone from between his brows.
“You look . . . relaxed,” she said.
“You clean up pretty good yourself. Did Save the Wilderness Fund send you?”
She nodded. “Follow-up story.”
“I saw you on the news the night we brought Zack back.”
“Us. You were there, too.”
He smiled. “I read your last story.”
“Mmmmmm.” She didn’t really want to talk about that.
“How’d you get that underwater video?”
Mad Max the video wizard, of course. Total panic, roiling water, our heroine about to fall to her death.
“You’ve no doubt forgotten that I had Zack and the camera,” she told Perez.
A familiar light sparked in the back of his eyes. “Of course. Wilderness Westin would never be without one, would she?”
She felt a blush rising to her cheeks. In the last four weeks, she had thought more than once about trying to locate Perez in Salt Lake City but had rejected the idea as unprofessional. Cowardly was a more accurate term.
“I assume you’ll be able to spare a few hours if we need you to testify?” he asked.
So it was back to work. “Do you know when you’ll need me? I’m off to Kansas for Thanksgiving. My dad just got engaged, and some of the folks are throwing a little party for him, so it’ll be more than just the usual holiday get-together.”
She was looking forward to the event and dreading it at the same time. Her relatives would press her for details about a man—any man—who could potentially be husband material. She could hear the clucking now. Adam had been promoted to an anchor position in San Diego; she doubted that their paths would cross in the future. Maybe she’d tell them that she lived with Blake: that would give them plenty to talk about.
She took a deep breath of the clean air. She’d take more photos after everyone had gone. Winter was a time of geologic pastels, bark and stone textures, gleaming water, crystalline snow.
Perez spoke her thoughts. “This is such a beautiful place.”
She could feel the warmth of his hand beside hers. Only a fraction of an inch away.
“Strange location to choose as a Garden of Eden, though.”
A hawk cried overhead. Such a lonely sound.
“I feel sorry for Karl Davinski,” she said. She couldn’t bear the thought of such a free spirit being locked inside a cell.
“Don’t waste your pity on him. He stands a good chance of being judged mentally incompetent. He may never stand trial.”
She was glad that Karl’s crazy act was convincing to others. He’d probably end up in a mental institution, but he wasn’t really violent and surely he’d be released before long. “He lost everything: Barbara Jean, David, his home.”
“Barbara Jean and David are the ones who lost everything,” he countered. “Can you imagine living your life in a cave?”
From the description she’d heard, Karl and Barbara Jean had their pocket of the Curtain fixed up pretty nice. They used the ruins for their patio, and the high mesas and canyons for their playground. It didn’t sound half bad to Sam. “You think it’s crazy to want to live in the wilderness?” she asked Perez.
“I think it’s crazy not to acknowledge reality. They weren’t living off the land; they were robbing campers. And Barbara Jean was little more than his captive.”
“She wanted to be with Karl, according to her friends. She told them that he’d saved her, that he was romantic, that he swept her off her feet.” Coyote Charlie could be romantic, Sam knew. She remembered the grapes he’d given her, the way he’d stroked her hair. The vision of him howling in the moonlight, wild and free.
“He brainwashed Barbara Jean,” Perez argued. “She was just a kid; she didn’t know better. If Davinski can be believed, it sounds like she died of pneumonia.”
“I still feel sorry for him. His dreams got smashed; his loved ones died.” She sighed. “The blue demon that Davinski said he saved David from. It was Wilson, wasn’t it?”
“Wallace Russell, you mean.” Perez shrugged. “He probably was the man you saw at the end of the path. According to Ranger Castillo, Russell gave some confused story about how he planned to take the boy back to his mother but got whacked over the head instead. And now he’s not talking at all. But then, it’s difficult with your jaw wired shut.”
“Yeah,” she said with a chuckle. “Rafael told me about that.”
Perez made a huffing noise at the back of his throat. “I’ll never doubt your intuition again.”
She blinked. Again? That implied there’d be other times together. “What’s going to happen to Fred Fischer?” she asked.
“He won’t get more than a slap on the wrist. After all, he didn’t kidnap Zack and he didn’t get the money. He just tried to take advantage of the situation to get his hands on some hard cash.” He shook his head. “Stupid man. Jenny and Zack were worth holding on to. Now he’s lost both of them for good.”
“All those rangers on overtime, and Fischer had already hitchhiked out.”
“Hazard of the business,” Perez commented. He ran a finger lightly along her jawline. “What’s this?”
Sam thought she’d concealed the bruise with makeup. But then Perez noticed everything. “SWF volunteers relocated a black bear up in the Cascades last weekend,” she said. “He wasn’t quite as tranquilized as I thought.”
His eyes twinkled. “I should have guessed.” His thigh edged next to hers, radiating warmth. After a minute, he asked, “If I were an animal, what would I be?”
“A hawk.”
He drew his fingers down his long nose as if extending it into a sharp beak.
She laughed. “No, it’s not that. It’s your eyes and the way you watch and wait. Resourceful, intense, wary.” She pressed her leg a fraction closer to his. “And which creature would you choose for me?”
“An ermine.”
A weasel? She frowned.
“A small, quick, intelligent creature. Good at hiding.”
Except for the intelligent part, that didn’t sound too complimentary.
“Fierce. Independent. Changeable, with lovely snow-white fur in winter.” He pushed aside a strand of her platinum hair, his finger leaving a trail of fire across her cheek. “A beautiful wild thing.”
“Rocky start,” she commented,
“but a brilliant finish.”
He leaned closer. “Going back to Bellingham tonight?”
She swallowed, nodded. “My flight leaves six hours from now.” Ask me to cancel it; there’ll be another one tomorrow.
The whine of helicopter blades cut into her thoughts.
Perez looked toward the source of the racket. “Want to hitch a ride?”
Sam shook her head. “I’ve had enough of helicopters to last a lifetime. I’m hiking down after I make sure Zeus is okay. Come with me. It’s a beautiful day.”
He looked uncomfortable. “I have to be in Salt Lake in two hours.”
Damn.
“I have a meeting in Seattle the week after next,” he said. “Mind if I look you up?” His raptor gaze locked onto hers.
She considered for a moment. What would he make of her in her home environment? The ermine in her den?
Her hesitation unsettled him. “You don’t have a man in your life, do you?”
Perez sounded pretty certain that she didn’t. She gave him a hard look.
In a softer tone, he said, “I know Steele’s gone to California.”
“Simon’s in my bed every night,” she told him. “And Blake’s in the other bedroom.”
“Simon’s your cat, Summer. And I’m sure you’ve noticed by now that Blake is gay.”
It was so unfair. “You know everything about me. And I don’t know any of your secrets.”
He grinned. “It’ll be a voyage of discovery.”
The helicopter was revving up. He threaded his fingers through hers and squeezed her hand gently. “So I can come?”
She squeezed back, increasing the pressure until he winced. Pressing her lips to his ear, she murmured, “You have to promise me, Chase. Raise your right hand.”
He did.
“Solemnly swear that you will not arrive in a helicopter.”
“You have my word on it.”
Finally, his lips met hers. His kiss was sweet, burning, and breathtakingly brief. And then Special Agent Chase J. Perez was gone, along with the helicopters and all the other humans.
Sam took a deep breath of cool fresh air, listening to the breeze, savoring the solitude of a place healing into wilderness once more. She pulled on her pack and hiked up to the ridge. Turning in a slow circle, she scanned the rocky landscape. With winter coming on, there were no lizards or snakes out sunning themselves now and few birds flying about on the high plateau. The berries and insects were gone, and the greenery that punctuated the smooth rock formations was now gray from nighttime frosts.
She walked a few steps down the slope and stopped, waiting. At first, she sensed him more than saw him. She pulled out her binoculars. There. Across the canyon, where the rock ledge rose up to the west, the lean form of a mountain lion, sitting in the shadow of an overhang, his tawny fur nearly invisible against the rocks behind him.
“The guns and helicopters are gone,” she whispered.
They watched each other for a few breaths, listening to the wind as it moaned and whistled through distant hoodoos. After a few moments, Zeus stood up, climbed to the top of the highest rock, and stood there in the sunlight, surveying his domain below. The big cat turned his head and looked back at Sam over his shoulder, his golden gaze fierce and questioning. Then, after one flick of his black-tipped tail, the cougar leapt from his perch and vanished.
Awesome.
Turn the page for an exciting preview of Pamela Beason’s next Summer Westin Mystery . . .
BEAR BAIT
Coming soon from Berkley Prime Crime!
“SO, Summer,” Lili said, trying the name out with a shy smile, “for this school project, I have to write a report on two careers.” She took a deep breath and plunged on. “And I figured, since you’re a wildlife biologist and a writer, you could help me with two at once.” She hesitated uncertainly. “I mean, if you want to.”
Sam blinked at her, not knowing whether to be flattered or appalled. “Is it okay to interview the same person for two different careers?”
Lili shrugged. “Ms. Patterson didn’t say we couldn’t.”
“Wouldn’t it be good to get more than one person’s point of view?”
The girl’s face clouded. She looked down at her toes and mumbled, “You don’t have to help. It’s all right. I’ll try to find someone else.”
Oh, for heaven’s sake. “Okay. I’ll help you, Lili.”
“Yes!” Lili pumped her toothbrush toward the star-spangled sky.
It was nice to be the source of someone’s excitement, even a thirteen-year-old’s. “When is this paper due?”
“August seventh?” Lili shot a quick glance at Sam, as if expecting an objection. “Dad told me I had to get started in plenty of time for once.”
“It’s due in two weeks?” Sam only had three weeks to finish her environmental survey and write up her recommended management plan. Now she’d agreed to help Lili, too? Deep breath, she told herself. It was a junior high project—how hard could it be? “What’s the first step?”
“I’m s’posed to come up with questions about each career,” Lili said. “I’ll do those tomorrow.” She sighed. “I thought I’d hate summer school. But it’s sort of okay.”
There was a possible segue back to Lili’s social life. Sam jumped at it. “Are there any cool boys?”
A loud boom rocked the fire tower. Sam grabbed the railing, knocking the tube of toothpaste from the rough two-by-four.
“Aunt Summer?” Even in the dim light, Sam could see that Lili’s eyes were wide.
“It’s okay.” At least she hoped it was. She dashed inside, grabbed the binoculars, and focused them on Marmot Lake.
Like an anxious cocker spaniel, Lili followed close on her heels. “What was that?”
“I don’t have a clue.” Sam lowered the binoculars to look at Lili. Then lights flashed through the forest near the lake, and she raised the binoculars again. A set of headlights. No, two. Two vehicles. The road to the lake was now closed to the public, barricaded with a steel gate and lock. Nobody should be in there.
Should she call in the violation? The trespassers were leaving; the odds against catching them were high. The explosion was most likely local teens setting off fireworks. M-80s could sound like cannons, especially on a quiet night like this. The Quileute and Quinault reservations were still hawking firecrackers, even though the Fourth of July had passed weeks ago.
A yellow light bloomed from the darkness near the lake. Then another. The brightness splashed and spread. She grabbed the radio on the desk and raised it to her lips. “Three-one-one, this is three-two-five. Come in, three-one-one.” She raised her finger from the Talk button. Nothing. She looked longingly at her cell phone on the shelf, but knew that it didn’t work in some areas of the park. She tried the radio again. “Three-one-one, this is three-two-five.”
“Three-one-one.” The voice of the night dispatcher was hoarse. “Did you say three-two-five? Cat Mountain Fire Lookout? Where’s Jeff?”
“Jeff went home. His mother’s sick. This is Sam Westin.”
“Oh, yeah. What’s up, Sam?”
“I’ve got a fire at Marmot Lake.” In the distance, a dead tree caught with a sudden rush, a knife blade of orange light in the darkness. The headlights strobed through thick evergreens as they raced west toward the highway.
The dispatcher’s reply was clipped, all business now. “Copy that, three-two-five. Fire at Marmot Lake.”
“I see at least three sources. Roll everyone you can get. Send them in on”—she checked the map beneath her fingertips—“Road 5214. Over.”
“Roger that. 5214. I’ll wake everyone up. Over.”
“I’m heading for the blaze now. Over.”
“You’re a temp. Stay at the lookout. Over.”
“I’m fifteen minutes away. I’m a trained firefighter; I have equipment.”
“You are? You do? But—”
Sam cut her off with a press of the Talk button. “It’ll be at least a
n hour before you can get anyone to the lake. Over.”
The dispatcher chose not to debate that point. “It’s against the regs. Don’t do anything stupid. Three-one-one, out.”
Sam dumped the radio on the countertop and pulled on her boots. She heard the radio call to Paul Schuler, the law enforcement ranger who patrolled the west-side campgrounds at night. The rest of the calls would be made via telephone; other staff members would be asleep at home. If all went smoothly, the west-side crew might reach the lake in forty-five minutes. Most of them lived in the small town of Forks, less than fifteen miles away. But in that time, a fire could consume acres of forest. With luck, she might be able to extinguish a couple of small blazes before the wildfire dug its ugly claws too deeply into the forest.
Lili jammed her feet into her own hiking boots.
“No,” Sam said. “You’re staying here.”
Lili’s fountain of dark hair bounced as her chin jerked up. “You can’t leave me here! What if the fire comes this way?”
Good point. If the fire turned in this direction, she might not make it back to get Lili. Damn! “Then I’ll have to drop you—”
“Where?” Lili’s voice was shrill. “There isn’t anywhere.”
Sam stared at her, trying to think of a safe place to deposit the child. Her mind was filled with visions of flames licking through the forest, a small fire growing larger by the second. Panic growing as birds and deer and bears circled within the smoke, tree frogs frantically searching for twigs that wouldn’t scorch their skin.
“The trees are burning right now,” Lili said, as if reading her thoughts.
Sam didn’t need to be reminded: her imagination was loud with screams of terrified animals.
“I’ll do exactly what you say.” Lili made the sign of the cross over her chest.
“You bet you will.” Sam blew out the Coleman, stuffed her flashlight and first-aid kit into her daypack. Her fire-retardant suit, along with shovels and Pulaskis, was locked into a metal toolbox in the park’s oldest pickup at the bottom of the tower.
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