Danger on Dakota Ridge

by Cindi Myers

  The next image was a closer shot of the man in the suit. The third picture was zoomed in even closer. Though still not distinct, the photograph did make one thing clear.

  “This isn’t Bryce Reed,” Rob said. And he didn’t think the men in fatigues were either of the ones who had been killed and left to burn in the shack.

  “No,” Parker agreed. “I never saw this guy before in my life.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Paige spent much of the next day canceling reservations, helping people find new accommodations, dealing with the insurance company and transferring money from savings to pay her ongoing bills. Later, she would need to go shopping, to replace at least a few of her necessities, and she would need to start hunting for a place to live.

  She hung up the phone after yet another call and stared out the window of the guest bedroom where she was working. Lacy and her parents were warm and gracious hosts, who lent her clothes and toiletries, and didn’t ask questions about where she had been until late the night before, but Paige couldn’t stay here long-term. She wasn’t comfortable being an unexpected guest, and though the Milligans weren’t at all intrusive, she valued her privacy.

  She resisted the urge to call Rob. He was probably working, and the last thing she wanted was for him to think that one night of incredible sex had turned her clingy. She had decidedly mixed feelings about getting involved with the lawman. On one hand, he had been a rock at a time when everything else in her world was unsteady. He was a lot smarter—and a lot more compassionate—than she had given him credit for. He liked—or at least he said he liked—her independence. And yes, the sex had been pretty incredible.

  But he wasn’t going to stay in Eagle Mountain, and she had no intention of changing her life for the sake of a man ever again. And who was to say all these warm feelings between them hadn’t been generated by her current crises situation? When life settled down again, they might turn out to hate each other. Better to not let herself get too emotionally invested until she knew for sure.

  She closed the notebook she had been using to keep track of all her tasks and went downstairs. She needed to get out and clear her head, so she took a walk downtown, and ended up at the Eagle Mountain History Museum.

  Brenda Stenson looked up from behind the front counter when she entered. “Paige!” Brenda came out to envelop her in a hug. “I heard about your B and B. How horrible for you.”

  “Yeah, well, I figured I’d see if you had any advice for me when it came to rebuilding.” Brenda’s own house had been destroyed by an arsonist earlier in the summer. That man had been caught, but what were the odds of two women being the victims of intentional fires in such a short period of time, in such a small town?

  “I can tell you plenty of things not to do,” Brenda said.

  “Such as?”

  “Such as don’t decide to build something completely different from the original house and expect the insurance company to just hand over the check,” she said. “I had to threaten to take my insurer to court, and jump through dozens of hoops, before they finally agreed I could build a triplex in place of my original single-family home.”

  “I drove by the site the other day and it looks as if things are coming along nicely,” Paige said.

  “They are—finally. And I have a waiting list of potential renters.”

  “I guess this means you won’t be moving back into one of the units?” Paige asked.

  “Dwight and I prefer his cabin on the ranch.”

  “I’m happy for you.” Paige was telling the truth. Brenda had suffered through a lot since her husband, Andy, had been murdered, and she deserved all the happiness she had found with Deputy Dwight Prentice. But Paige wasn’t in the same situation as Brenda. “Too bad your rental units aren’t already finished,” she said. “I’m going to need some place to live until my house can be rebuilt. From everything I heard this morning, it could be a year or more before I’m ready to open for business.”

  “Oh, Paige, I’m so sorry.” Brenda leaned over and squeezed her hand. “What will you do in the meantime?”

  “I’ll have to find a job. Not a lot of those around, either.”

  “Maybe you could find another house to run as a B and B,” Brenda said.

  “I thought of that. But I’d never be able to swing the loan, not when I still have a mortgage on the Bear’s Den.” Those payments would have to continue to be made while the house was being rebuilt. “I’ve got a business degree and experience running my own business,” she said. “I’ll find something.”

  “When you’re ready, I can put you in touch with my contractor,” Brenda said. “And if you have any questions about permitting or zoning, I feel like I’m becoming a local expert on those topics.”

  “Thanks,” Paige said. “That’s not the only reason I stopped by this afternoon. I wanted to ask you about Professor Gibson.”

  “Oh?” Brenda looked surprised. “What about him?”

  “Parker is staying with him until I can find a place for both of us,” she said. “And they’re working together on some kind of project involving that secret World War II laboratory that was supposedly located in the county.”

  “That’s right,” Brenda said. “You can blame me for getting the two of them together. I heard the professor was interested in digging into the history of the lab and I knew Parker would be the perfect person to help him. From what Parker tells me, they’ve really hit it off.”

  “I guess so,” Paige said. “I just worry about Parker getting into trouble, trespassing on private land or poking his nose where he shouldn’t while trying to find this lab. And wasn’t the government working on some really dangerous stuff there? What if he finds it and is exposed to some horrible disease?”

  “I wonder if that’s what happened to Henry Hake,” Brenda said.

  “I heard a rumor he died of tularemia,” Paige said.

  Brenda nodded. “The rumor is true. And the professor tells me tularemia is one of the things the government was working on in that lab.”

  “But the underground space where they found Henry Hake wasn’t the World War II lab,” Paige said.

  “No, it wasn’t.” Brenda shrugged. “Maybe it’s just a weird coincidence. Do you want me to put a bug in the professor’s ear about making sure Parker plays it safe? He and I have gotten to be pretty good friends since he took an interest in the museum.”

  “I’d appreciate it,” Paige said. “But make sure he doesn’t know it came from me. Parker already thinks I meddle in his life too much.”

  The bell on the door rang as a couple with two elementary school–age girls entered. Paige excused herself and went back outside. Her phone rang as she was crossing the street—a number she didn’t recognize. When she answered, she was surprised to hear Bryce Reed’s voice.

  “Paige. I’m glad I caught you,” he said. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m coping.” The best answer she could think of, considering all that had happened.

  “I’m calling to invite you to a press conference at our Dakota Ridge property tomorrow morning,” he said. “We’re going to officially unveil our plans for the site and I’d love to have you there.”

  So he hadn’t really been calling to see how she was doing. She couldn’t decide whether to be annoyed at his lack of concern or relieved. “So the county commissioners have approved your plans?” she asked.

  “Oh, they will,” he said. “We’ve heard only good things from that quarter. This is to get the public excited about what we’re going to be doing. Will you be there?”

  “I’ll try to make it,” she said. “What time?”

  “Ten o’clock. I’ll save a place for you.”

  He disconnected before she could tell him she wasn’t going to be CNG’s pet environmentalist, but decided that was her bad mood talking. She would go to the press conference tomo
rrow, if only for a chance to have another look at the property.

  * * *

  PAIGE WAS WAITING on the front porch when Rob arrived to pick her up for dinner that evening. As he made his way up the walk, he felt a little like a teenager, picking up his date from her parents’ house. The full-skirted, flowered dress she wore added to the retro feel of the moment. He took a chance and kissed her cheek in greeting. “How are you doing?” he asked.

  “All right.” She smoothed the skirt of the dress. “Lacy loaned me this. It’s a little frillier than I usually go for.”

  “It looks good on you,” he said. He glanced toward the door. “Should we go inside and say hello?”

  “Lacy and her folks are having dinner at Travis’s family ranch. They asked me to come, too, but I think they were relieved when I told them I had other plans. They’ve been great about respecting my privacy.”

  Maybe that was because Paige was the type of woman who gave off very clear warnings for others not to get too close. Which made him feel especially privileged that she had let down her guard with him. “Where would you like to go for dinner?” he asked.

  “Would you mind if we stayed here?” she asked. “I can’t go anywhere in town without people stopping me to say how sorry they are about the fire, and wanting to know exactly what happened. I appreciate their concern, but it’s wearing me out, not to mention the strain of reliving everything over and over again.”

  “Staying in sounds good.” He followed her into the house, and through to a sunny breakfast room.

  “Mrs. Milligan was happy to let me use her kitchen.” The table was set for two, with salads and bread already in place, and a bottle of wine chilling in a silver tub. He sat where she directed and a feeling of contentment washed over him—surprising, since he had never considered himself the domestic sort.

  While they ate, she talked about her day—the telephone conversations with her guests and the insurance company, and her visit with Brenda. “Do you think Henry Hake could have stumbled upon that old lab and contracted tularemia that way?” she asked.

  “It’s possible, I suppose,” Rob said. “Though no one has found anything to indicate that. Apparently, tularemia lives in the soil in a lot of areas—so it might have been something as simple as digging a hole and breathing in particles of dirt, and being particularly vulnerable because of his heart condition.”

  “It probably is something like that,” she said. She refilled their wineglasses. “Oh, I almost forgot—Bryce Reed called me this afternoon and invited me to a press conference he’s giving up at Dakota Ridge tomorrow, to publicly unveil CNG’s plans for the research facility.”

  “Still trying to get your support for the project?” Rob asked.

  “I suppose. I want to go to the press conference, if only to get another look at the property.”

  “I’ll go with you. I’d like to have another look at it, too,” he added, before she could protest that she didn’t need a bodyguard.

  “I did some digging into Bryce Reed’s background today,” he said.

  “Oh?” Paige laid down her fork and gave him her full attention. “What did you find out?”

  “He’s been chief financial officer for CNG for nine months, in charge of special projects. Apparently this research lab is a special project. Before that, he worked for a couple of oil companies, a financial management firm and a manufacturing conglomerate. Pretty run-of-the-mill corporate stuff.”

  “So nothing juicy?” Paige picked up her fork again and resumed eating the lasagna she had prepared.

  “Not in his business life. His personal life is a little more interesting.”

  Her mouth full, she nodded that he should continue.

  “He’s been married three times, divorced three times. Five children, none of whom live with him.”

  “None of that makes him a bad person,” Paige said. “I’m divorced.”

  “I never said it did. No, the interesting part is how he spends his time outside of work. He’s been a member of several organizations the FBI classifies as fringe groups.”

  Paige wrinkled her nose. “What does that mean? I imagine more than a few people here in town consider Eagle Mountain environmentalists to be a fringe group.”

  “In this case, these are extremist groups that have advocated for things like white supremacy and limiting voting in elections to those with a certain income level.”

  “Is he a member of any of those groups now?” she asked.

  “No. And he’s never been convicted of a crime.”

  “So maybe those earlier affiliations were mistakes of his youth and he’s a more moderate thinker now.” She pushed her plate away and sipped her wine. “Lots of people make mistakes when they’re young. They shouldn’t have to pay for them the rest of their lives.”

  Rob was sure she was thinking of Parker. “Your brother came to see me this morning,” he said.

  She straightened. “He didn’t come to see me. I haven’t even talked to him since yesterday.”

  “He volunteered to help in any way he could to find out who has been harassing you.”

  Her expression softened. “And he accuses me of worrying too much about him. What did you tell him?”

  “I don’t know that there’s much he can do—not now, at least.” He decided not to mention Parker’s story about the helicopter and the men with guns. She was worried enough without that burden. “I’m not even sure where to focus our efforts. I can’t figure out if CNG is legit or not—they’re deliberately calling attention to themselves with this new high-altitude research facility, when they could have pretended they weren’t going to do anything at all with the land, and probably gotten away with whatever they wanted for a long time. So maybe they really have nothing to do with any criminal activity and someone has simply been using land they thought was vacant. Something else interesting I found out about them.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Your mayor, Larry Rowe, is a stockholder in CNG.”

  “You’re kidding.” She paused, thinking. “That’s a conflict of interest, isn’t it?”

  “It could be. Especially if he received the stock recently, in exchange for his support for the Dakota Ridge project. I haven’t had time to dig into that yet.”

  “I always suspected Larry was for sale to the highest bidder,” Paige said.

  “Reed is the man I’m most interested in,” Rob said. “I asked my admin to do some more digging.”

  “I think we should get to the site early tomorrow,” Paige said. “I want to hike up the trail and see if he kept his promise to take down the gate over the trail.”

  “And if he hasn’t?”

  “If he hasn’t, I might have to raise the question at his press conference.”

  “That won’t make him happy.”

  “I’m not interested in making him happy,” she said. “I’m interested in making things right.”

  That was the Paige Rob knew best—the crusader, ready to wage battle and defeat injustice. She ignored her vulnerability by being strong. How could he get past the toughness she wore like body armor and prove she had no need for shields with him?

  Chapter Fourteen

  Paige couldn’t have asked for a better day for a hike when she and Rob set out on the Dakota Ridge Trail the next morning before CNG’s press conference. The autumn air was so crisp it practically crackled, and the gold of aspen leaves carpeted the trails and shone bright against a Colorado blue sky. Eyes closed, she breathed in deeply of the pine-scented air, her muscles unknotting as some of her tension eased.

  “It’s better than a tranquilizer, isn’t it?” Rob asked. He had pulled a day pack from the back seat of her car and shrugged into it. Dressed in hiking boots, jeans and a flannel shirt worn open over a black T, he didn’t look like a cop today—if you ignored the pistol under that shirt, whic
h she intended to do.

  “I need the outdoors like some people need coffee,” she said. She wore her own pack over a cropped denim jacket, skinny jeans and a muted gold turtleneck. “And this is one of my favorite places—which is why I was so upset when the gate was installed over the trail.” She led the way up the red dirt path.

  Rob fell into step beside her. “I did a lot more of this kind of thing before I moved to Denver,” he said. “I used to hike in the Alleghenies almost every weekend when I lived in West Virginia.”

  “Why did you stop?” she asked. “It’s not like Denver doesn’t have hiking trails.”

  He shrugged. “I got busy at work. I didn’t have anyone to go with. Really, I think I just got lazy. You’ve reminded me of what I’ve been missing.” His eyes met hers and she wondered if he meant he had been missing more than hiking.

  She looked away and he continued, “I’m still hoping to get in some fishing before I leave town.”

  She didn’t look at him. “And when will that be?”

  “The fishing? I don’t know. It depends on the case.”

  “I meant, when will you be leaving town?”

  “That depends on the case, too.”

  Right. But he would be leaving. She needed to remember that.

  He took her hand in his. “I’m not going yet,” he said. “Maybe I’ll take you with me fishing.”

  Her breath had stopped at the words maybe I’ll take you with me, and then she scolded herself for being so foolish. Since when had she wanted a man to take her anywhere? To his bed, maybe. Out to dinner occasionally. She appreciated a man who took her into his confidence, though she could admit she didn’t readily return the favor. No, she didn’t want Rob to take her anywhere. She didn’t know what she wanted from him, really, and the idea frustrated her. She was never this indecisive about anything. Could she blame the stress she was under, with the threats on her life and the destruction of her home and livelihood?

  Beside her, Rob tensed, one hand reaching for the gun beneath his shirt, the other at her back. “What is it?” she asked, fear tightening her throat and making the words come out strained.