Danger on Dakota Ridge

by Cindi Myers

  “This is the first I’ve heard about it,” he said, frowning. “I wasn’t aware there was a public hiking trail through the property. I’ll certainly have to look into that.”

  “There’s a public easement at one corner,” she said. “The trail has been there since the late 1800s. You can’t legally block it.”

  “I’m sure we can come to some compromise that ensures our property rights are respected as well as maintaining the public’s access to the trail.”

  “You can either remove the gate or move the fence,” Paige said. “Until you do, I can’t speak out in support of this development.”

  She waited for his anger, but instead, he gave another smile, this one almost sheepish. “You drive a hard bargain, Ms. Riddell, but a fair one. I’ll see that the gate is opened.”

  Paige stood, and he rose also. “I’ll come to the county commissioners’ meeting this evening,” she said. “I’m looking forward to your presentation. And I appreciate your talking to me.”

  He took her hand, his grasp warm and firm. “Thanks for listening,” he said.

  She walked with him to the foyer, but before he could leave, the front door opened and Rob walked in. He stared at the two of them, who were still hand in hand. “Hello,” he said.

  Paige slipped her hand from Bryce’s. “Bryce Reed, this is Rob Allerton,” she said. “Rob is a guest here at the B and B. Mr. Reed is with CNG Development.”

  “Good to meet you.” Bryce shook hands with Rob, who continued to eye him as if he suspected him of some crime.

  “Are you the CNG representative who’s giving the presentation to the county commissioners this evening?” he asked.

  How had Rob learned that? Paige wondered. Maybe Travis had told him.

  “I guess it’s true what they say about word getting around fast in small towns,” Bryce said. “Yes, I’m going to be talking about our plans for the property up on Dakota Ridge.” He turned to Paige once more. “I’d really like to take you up to the property and show you around,” he said. “I want you to see exactly what we have in mind. And I’m sure you could offer some good suggestions.”

  “The last time I was up there, someone tried to kill me,” she said.

  Maybe she had hoped to shock him a little bit with this bold statement. Clearly, she succeeded. He blinked at her, mouth half-open, eyes wide—as if he had been hit in the head with a heavy object. “Kill you? I hope you’re exaggerating.”

  “She’s not.” Rob moved in closer. “Two men fired on her while she was on the hiking trail that runs alongside the fence bordering your property. Later, they came here to try to finish the job.”

  “Two men, you say?” He had regained some of his composure, but his affable manner of earlier was gone. “What did they look like?”

  “They were big,” Paige said. “They wore camouflage, almost like soldiers. But I didn’t really get a good look at them.”

  “They drove a dark sedan and the weapon was an AR-15,” Rob said.

  “That is unacceptable,” Bryce said. He took Paige’s hand once more. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that. I had heard some criminal types had been taking advantage of what they probably saw as abandoned property. I promise you, that is going to stop now.”

  The fierceness of his tone—and the murderous look in his eyes—sent a shiver through her. She withdrew her hand from his. “That’s good to hear.”

  “If you know anything about this, you need to tell the sheriff,” Rob said.

  “I think I know how to handle my business,” Bryce said, his voice mild, but his eyes still frigid. He nodded to Paige. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  Rob opened the door and closed it again after Bryce had exited. He locked it, then leaned back against it, arms crossed. “What was he doing here?” he asked.

  “He invited me to attend his presentation tonight,” she said. “And he wants my support—well, the support of Eagle Mountain environmentalists—for CNG’s plans.”

  “He wanted to size you up,” Parker said.

  She turned to her brother, who leaned back against the desk, his pose strikingly similar to Rob’s. “What do you mean by that?” she asked.

  “He wanted to see what the opposition looked like,” Parker said. “What he was up against.”

  “I think Parker’s right,” Rob said. “He may have asked you for your support, but he really wanted to gauge what kind of a fight you were likely to put up.”

  “Maybe so,” Paige said. “But my take is that he was being smart and trying to recruit me to his side. And he made some convincing arguments for his project.”

  “I think he knows something about those men who shot at you,” Rob said.

  “You saw the look on his face when I told him about them,” she said. “He was stunned—truly shocked.”

  “Maybe.” Rob looked doubtful. “I think he bears watching.”

  “I agree,” Paige said. “And I will be watching him. But I don’t think he’s dangerous.”

  Rob moved past her, pausing at her side to touch her arm and look into her eyes. “Don’t underestimate him,” he said, in a low voice that sent a hot tremor through her. “And don’t underestimate what I’ll do to protect you.”

  Chapter Nine

  Parker consulted the map the professor had given him, and compared it to the landscape around him. The map was dotted with the crossed-pickaxes symbol that indicated the site of old mines, several of which were within the dark line that represented the boundary around CNG Development’s Dakota Ridge property. “There may be others that aren’t marked on here,” Professor Gibson had said when he gave Parker the map. “But these are a good place to start. Locate as many as you can and report back to me.”

  Yes, he had promised Paige he wouldn’t come back up here, but that had been fear talking. Now that he had had time to think about it, he couldn’t see what harm could come from him taking another look at the property. If CNG really was going to develop the place, he and the professor didn’t have much time left to make their discovery. And with everyone focused on Bryce Reed’s presentation to the county commissioners that evening, Parker had figured this was a good time to finish what he had intended to do before the sheriff had interrupted him the other day.

  Paige would have had a fit if she knew he was back up here, of course, but the way Parker saw it, the property was unoccupied—practically abandoned. And he was engaged in important historical research, not petty vandalism. He doubted CNG or the local cops would see it that way, so he had been careful to park his car out of sight, and to come into the property through the break in the fence, where no one could see him from the road or the hiking trail.

  Rob Allerton definitely wouldn’t approve of what he was doing, though he had been cool about not turning Parker in to the sheriff when he’d recognized him here the other day. Parker hadn’t expected that, and it made him like the cop in spite of himself.

  He still couldn’t decide how he felt having the DEA agent living in the same house. Paige could pretend all she wanted that Rob wasn’t interested in her, but Parker knew he was right. Was that a good or a bad thing? She needed something to focus on besides Parker. He hadn’t said anything to his sister yet, but he was thinking of moving to Boulder next year and enrolling in the University of Colorado. Professor Gibson had already said he would recommend Parker for admission, and even help him get a scholarship to study history.

  The professor had been a surprise since Parker moved to Eagle Mountain. The old guy had really taken an interest in Parker. It was an odd friendship—a young ex-con and a staid old professor—but Gibson was supersharp, and the two had just hit it off. The research they were doing together fascinated Parker, and the professor had helped him to see a future for himself that didn’t involve menial jobs and always running from the stigma of his past mistakes.

  The professor had det
ermined that the government’s secret World War II lab had been located in this area. He had unearthed accounts that mentioned a rocky ridge he thought was probably Dakota Ridge, and a nearby creek, the location of which matched up with the creek that ran along the back side of CNG’s property. One letter the professor had found mentioned a view of Mount Wiley, which could be seen from where Parker was standing right now.

  The problem was construction on the property had altered some of the natural terrain. Had the gully shown on the map been filled in or diverted to construct that street? Had the giant boulder indicated on the map been blasted into pieces to make room for the foundation of a house? It didn’t help that Parker hadn’t had much experience reading maps and orienteering, or that he had only about an hour and a half before it would be too dark to see much of anything. Where was a good GPS coordinate when you needed it?

  He took a few steps toward a clearing ahead, thinking if he got out of the trees, maybe he could figure out where he was, but a loud noise startled him. Heart pounding, he hurried back into the thick undergrowth. The heavy whump! whump! whump! of a helicopter echoed off the rock face of the ridge behind him, growing so loud Parker wanted to cover his ears.

  But he remained still, craning his neck and trying to see through the canopy of trees. He caught a glimpse of a dark shape, but that was all. Maybe just as well, since if he couldn’t see the chopper through the thick undergrowth, then its occupants probably couldn’t see him.

  He didn’t have to wait long to get a good view of the helicopter, though. A minute later, it set down in the clearing in front of him. Parker shrank farther into the underbrush as the rotors slowed, then stopped, and the roar of the engine faded. The door popped open and two men, dressed in military fatigues and carrying rifles, hopped to the ground. They scanned the area. Then a moment later, a man in a dark business suit exited the chopper. He had graying hair swept back from his forehead, and dark sunglasses perched on a crooked nose, with deep frown lines on either side of a thin-lipped mouth. He surveyed the area, then said something to the men with the guns that Parker couldn’t hear.

  The gunmen returned to the helicopter and unloaded a large wooden crate—about the size of a coffee table or a trunk. They set it on the ground next to the man in the suit. Stealthily, trying hard not to make a sound and scarcely daring to breathe, Parker took out his phone and began snapping photographs of the men, the box and the helicopter. He had taken half a dozen pictures when a branch cracked and a deer shot from the underbrush on the other side of the clearing.

  Both men in fatigues raised their rifles and fired off a barrage of shots, peppering the deer with bullets, sending bark flying off the trunks of surrounding trees. Parker bit the inside of his cheek to keep from crying out. These guys were crazy! And he needed to get out of here as fast as he could.

  The man in the suit didn’t even flinch at the burst of gunfire. When the gunmen had lowered their weapons, he motioned to the crate and said something. They each took an end and headed off across the clearing, away from Parker. The man in the suit followed.

  Parker waited until they were out of sight, then retraced his steps to the break in the fence, and from there to his car. His hands were still shaking as he fumbled the key into the ignition. What was going on up here?

  And did he dare tell anyone about it?

  * * *

  WORD HAD OBVIOUSLY gotten around about that night’s special guest speaker at the county commissioners’ meeting, since latecomers ended up standing along the walls of the meeting room on the second floor of the Rayford County courthouse. Eagle Mountain Examiner reporter Tammy Patterson slid into one of the last empty seats, next to Paige, and gaped at the full house. “Most of the time Dean Eggbert and I are the only people in the audience at these things,” she whispered, as she took out her tape recorder.

  “Why does Dean attend?” Paige asked, picturing the short, round man whose balding head and ever-present white-shirt-with-red-suspenders combo always reminded her of the picture of Humpty Dumpty in her childhood storybook.

  “His wife’s book club meets at their place on Monday nights,” Tammy said. “This gets him out of the house.” She looked past Paige. “Hello, Agent Allerton. I heard you were back in town.”

  “Call me Rob,” he said. “I’m here on vacation. Hoping to do some fishing.”

  “This meeting is called to order.” The chief commissioner struck his gavel and the regular business of the commissioners proceeded, from the approval of the last meeting’s minutes to authorization of funds to buy a new dump truck. Paige, who had endured her share of town meetings, struggled to keep her eyes open. Next to her, Rob sat slumped in his chair with his hands in his pockets and his chin on his chest. Paige was tempted to nudge him, to see if he was awake.

  “And now, Bryce Reed with CNG Development has asked to address the commissioners.”

  A murmur rose from the crowd and audience members straightened in their seats as Reed, dressed as he had been that afternoon, in khaki trousers and a pastel golf shirt, strode to the microphone at the front of the room. He nodded and someone in the rear dimmed the lights, and an image appeared on the screen of a long, low building set against the familiar cliffs of Dakota Ridge.

  “My company, CNG Development, wants to take a piece of land that has become an eyesore and a nuisance to this community and turn it into an important high-altitude research facility that will give back to your wonderful community rather than taking away from it,” Reed said.

  For the next ten minutes, he walked them through a series of before and after artist’s renderings of the property, as well as bullet-pointed lists of the benefits of his proposed project—everything from green building practices to wildlife habitat protection.

  “He’s very persuasive,” Paige whispered to Rob.

  “Are you persuaded?” he asked.

  “I’m reserving judgment,” she said. “Companies often talk a good game, but they don’t always follow through.”

  Reed finished his presentation and asked if anyone had questions. Seemingly everyone had a question, from Al Dawson’s query about local jobs at the lab site—there would be a very small, very specialized staff, but there might be a few jobs for locals—to Merrily Rayford’s concern over removing some of the dilapidated structures that were already in place on the property.

  “No questions?” Rob leaned over to ask Paige.

  “I’ll have plenty—later. When I meet with Mr. Reed again.”

  Once more flashing a smile that attested to many thousand dollars of dental work, Bryce Reed closed the notebook he had brought to the podium with him. “If no one else has anything they’d like to ask—”

  The door at the back of the room opened and Mayor Larry Rowe stepped in. Dressed for the office in dark slacks, white shirt and no tie, he smoothed back his graying hair and strode toward the podium. “Sorry I’m late,” he muttered, as Bryce stepped aside to give the mayor access to the microphone.

  “I should have known Larry wouldn’t miss a chance to claim his share of the spotlight,” Paige whispered to Rob.

  “I just wanted to go on record as saying that the city of Eagle Mountain is one hundred percent behind CNG’s proposal for their Dakota Ridge property,” the mayor said. “We’re pleased as can be that they’re going to take something that has been a problem for the area and turn it into a facility we can all be proud of.”

  He looked out at the audience, as if daring anyone to contradict him.

  “Thank you, Mr. Mayor,” Bryce said. “I appreciate your support. And I hope in time to earn the support of many more of you.”

  Paige realized Bryce was looking right at her. She met his gaze with a cool look of her own.

  “He thinks he’s won you over,” Rob said.

  “As I said, I’m reserving judgment until after our meeting.”

  She braced herself for his argument
that she shouldn’t meet with Reed alone. She would let him rant for a while, then tell him she intended to take him with her. That should knock the wind from his sails. But before she had a chance to speak, a piercing siren sounded.

  “That’s the fire alarm.” Travis, who had been seated behind them, stood. Half a dozen others in the room rose, as well. In a town with no paid fire department, the alarm was the quickest way to summon volunteers to their stations.

  The room was emptying out fast when Tammy stood, her phone in her hand. “My editor just texted me,” she said. “The fire is up on Dakota Ridge—at the old Eagle Mountain Resort property.”

  * * *

  ROB STUDIED THE two bodies partially visible beneath the pile of charred timbers, illuminated by the white-hot glow of powerful LED work lights on stands on either side of the former building. The sharp scent of burning wood stung his nose, and he stood well back to avoid the rivulets of wet ash that trickled from the remains of the fire. “Any idea who they are?” he asked Travis.

  “Reed says he’s never seen them before—that no one was supposed to be up here.” Travis glanced toward where Bryce Reed stood, talking to the assistant fire chief, Tom Reynolds.

  “How did the fire start?” Rob asked. “Do we know yet?”

  “Tom says he can’t make an official assessment until after a formal investigation, but he’s pretty sure it’s arson,” Travis said.

  The building had been one of the few complete ones on the resort site. The eight-by-ten shed had been sided with weathered cedar and roofed with rusty metal, in an attempt to mimic an old mine shack. Rob and his team had searched the structure as part of their investigation into the underground laboratory, but found only landscaping tools and a pile of real-estate signs. The structure sat by itself, surrounded by rocky ground and broken pavement, which had kept the blaze from spreading.

  “Who called in the alarm, do you know?” Rob asked.