“And why would I need to know how to shoot a gun?” she asked, seemingly disinterested, but she flashed him a flirty look from beneath her lashes as she leaned against the base of a large tree. Everywhere around her was blooming with life after the harsh Alaskan winter had lost its grip and allowed summer to thaw the earth. It was nearly warm enough for shorts. Nearly.
Zed grinned and slowly advanced until he was close enough to grab and pull her in for a kiss but she simply waited and watched. “Every girl ought to know how to defend herself in case she gets into some trouble.”
“And what kind of trouble could I get into?” she asked softly, gazing up at him, falling for this green-eyed boy that much harder.
“This kind,” he said, dipping his head to capture her mouth in a soft but firm kiss. Trouble never tasted so sweet. She’d never kissed a boy before but she took her cue from Zed, and within a few minutes of experimentation Jennelle knew she’d want to do it again and again with him. When the kiss ended, Zed pulled away, his eyes at half-mast with a haze of burning desire, and she knew she probably looked the same. Her veins ran with liquid fire, and even though it was hardly warm enough, she wanted to strip her clothes and give herself to him completely. But he surprised her when his gaze cleared and he regarded her with a solemn expression that seemed to pierce her soul as he vowed quietly, “Jennelle Thoreau, I’m gonna marry you—that’s a promise.”
And she believed him. She gazed at him with adoration. In his eyes, she saw her future. Even though she was only fifteen, she knew they were destined for each other. “You promise?”
“I promise.”
“What if I get fat or ugly?”
“You’ll always be the prettiest girl to me.”
“That’s easy to say but hard to mean,” she murmured. Her daddy could barely stand to be in the same room as her mama. She supposed at one time they’d been sweet on each other but not any longer. “You promise to always love me, Zedediah Sinclair? Promise me on your life?”
“On my life and then some.”
She grinned and pulled him back to her. “Then I accept. I will marry you someday. And I will have your babies and keep your house as long as you keep your promise.”
“Always.”
Jennelle opened her eyes and found them wet with tears. Apparently, always had an expiration date.
Heart heavy and nearing a total breakdown, Jennelle wound her way past towering mounds of who knew what, ignored the fact that she had to climb over piles that had since toppled from their original location and escaped into the sanctity of Simone’s room—to hide from the memories, both good and bad, of her life.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
MARY POPPED HER head into Miranda’s office, agitated and worried. “It’s happening again. I just received a call on the hotline reporting a bear found on Woodstock’s Trail. The kill is fresh.”
Miranda’s adrenaline spiked. She’d known it was simply a matter of time before the kills started again but she’d thought they might have another month before the carcasses started showing up. Maybe the poachers were getting greedy—and sloppy. She could only hope. “Thanks, Mary.” She dashed around her coworker and ran into Jeremiah’s office. “We just got a call on the hotline. A bear kill. You said you wanted to help. You coming with me?”
“Right now?” He appeared stymied. She could appreciate that it wasn’t as easy for him to drop everything and go bounding after a lead, but at the moment she didn’t care about the logistics. He regarded her critically. “How far away?”
“You don’t have to go.” She started to leave and he called out to her. She stopped but her impatience showed. “Time is a luxury we don’t have. We’ve never had a kill this fresh, which means they’re still in the area.”
He nodded, giving in to her logic. “Let me get my coat.” While he shut down his office and grabbed his coat and gloves, Miranda quickly made arrangements for Talen just in case she was gone longer than the day hours. Mamu would keep her grandson without complaint, something she’d never been able to count upon with her own mother. Not that she’d let Talen stay with her mother at this point even if Jennelle had offered.
Jeremiah met Miranda at her Range Rover. Neither wasted time and simply climbed in without conversation until they were rumbling out of the parking lot. “How fresh is the information?” he asked.
“Mary just got off the phone with the caller. I don’t have a lot of details. But I know they’ve got to be close. They probably didn’t expect the bear carcass to be found so soon. This might be our chance to actually catch the bastards.”
“Let’s do this, then.”
Miranda hit the highway and started up the mountain. Woodstock’s Trail was about a mile away from one of the sites where previous bear carcasses had been found. The poachers seemed to like to remain within a certain territory, although it certainly hadn’t helped narrow the investigation as the area spanned miles. Dark ominous clouds boiled on the horizon as an unusually frigid storm promised the first serious snowstorm of the late fall season. Experience cautioned her to let this one go due to the storm but she couldn’t. Nothing was going to stop her from catching the poachers this time. Jeremiah realized the weather was turning, as well. “Those clouds look pretty dark. How much time before they dump snow?” he asked.
“Not long,” she admitted. “Let’s hope we have some luck on our side.”
“We might need more than luck,” Jeremiah muttered. “We might need divine intervention so we don’t get stuck in that storm.”
“Don’t be such a pessimist.” She grinned. “This is probably the most excitement you’ve had in years. Enjoy it.”
He barked a short laugh but didn’t deny it. “Let’s arrive alive,” he advised, looking purposefully at her speedometer as she sped down the slick road. “Let’s just say we catch them. What’s your plan? Are you going to load them into the Range Rover and expect them to behave?”
“I have a gun and I know how to use it.”
“Yes, I’m sure you do. However, you can’t shoot the poachers. The perpetrators must be brought to justice and tried in the court of law with due process. Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”
“Your definition of stupid and my definition of stupid might not be the same,” she warned. She wasn’t about to make promises that she didn’t know she could keep. She’d been tracking these poachers for two years. It was time to bring them down. And if they wouldn’t come peacefully, they would come howling from a bullet lodged in their legs. “Listen, I know what I can and can’t do within the parameters of the law. Why don’t you radio it in? That way we have reinforcements.”
“I can do that.” Jeremiah grabbed the radio handset and called the ranger station. “This is Fish and Game director Jeremiah Burke. We’re on the trail of possible poachers and we may need backup if things get dicey. Will radio our location when we assess the situation. Heading toward Woodstock’s Trail.”
“Copy that.” The dispatcher’s voice cracked a long line. “We’ve got a ranger on his way to haul the bear back to station.”
“Copy.”
Miranda smiled. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Jeremiah laughed at her cheeky comment. “Just drive.”
They left the highway and started up the service trail. The road became muddy and ugly, necessitating four-wheel drive. Fifteen minutes later they came upon the base of Woodstock’s Trail and parked the vehicle. They’d have to walk from there. Miranda shouldered her pack and grabbed her gun as they struck out toward the location of the bear carcass.
Miranda became laser-focused, looking for any clue, any sign of the poachers. She looked for broken branches, disturbed soil, anything that might lead them to the bear killers. Unfortunately, it was a fairly popular trail and there were plenty of old and new footprints that traversed the ground. It wa
s like looking for a particular blade of grass in dense underbrush but she refused to let the odds get her down.
They found the bear, mutilated for its parts, and Miranda felt a familiar rage for the desecration. “They ought to be drawn and quartered themselves,” she muttered, examining the evidence. Blowflies buzzed around the spilled entrails, doing their natural job within the circle of life, but the low buzz always reminded her of something else. Dead things, animal or human, emitted a certain scent signature that flies responded to. Flies had already begun to land on Simone’s battered face as her sightless eyes stared into the slate-gray skies when Trace had found her. Miranda had come upon the clearing with Trace waving away the flies from their baby sister’s face and silently crying. It was the first—and last—time she’d ever seen Trace cry.
Miranda rocked back on her heels, needing a moment. Jeremiah noticed the sudden change and looked at her with concern. “Are you okay?”
She offered a shaky laugh and waved him away. “I’m fine. Just lost my focus for a minute.” She took a step away from the carcass, careful not to disturb the area, and began looking for any clues left behind. As with the previous bear mutilations, the perpetrators had either been very brazen or they didn’t care if someone came along to find their kill. And once again, they’d left behind little to track. “Damn it.” Miranda scanned further up the trail. “Let’s tag the bear with a marker and then head up the trail a bit farther. They can’t be that far. The body is still warm.”
“You think that’s wise?” Jeremiah looked up at the sky. “The storm is coming fast.”
“You can head back if you want. But I’m not leaving—not when we’re this close.”
Jeremiah met her gaze. “You’re not going up in those mountains alone. That’s foolish. You promised me you wouldn’t do anything reckless or stupid.”
“And I told you that your definition of stupid and my definition of stupid might not be the same. This is the first time that we’ve had such a fresh kill. They could be just up around the bend, maybe a mile out. I’m not walking away.”
Maybe it was reckless; she wouldn’t know as she was running on pure adrenaline. All she knew was those poachers were out there, laughing at her expense. This was her chance to be the one with the last laugh.
“Are you with me or not?”
Jeremiah shouldered his own pack and shook his head grimly when he realized she was deadly serious. “All right. Give me a minute to call it in. Can you do that?”
She was anxious to get moving but she could give him that. “Make it fast.” She felt squeezed by time; every ticking second was one second gained by the poachers. She was going to nail those bastards to the wall.
That was a promise.
* * *
JEREMIAH STRUCK OUT behind Miranda, careful to walk where she walked. Her gaze scanned the ground, the trees, looking for anything that might give away the direction the poachers had gone. Jeremiah silently marveled at her skill. What appeared as nothing more than dirt and forest cover appeared as a faint trail to her trained eye. There were times when she would stop and study the ground as if the trees were speaking to her before pushing on with renewed vigor. He envied her boundless energy and he was grateful he’d spent time in the gym as part of his routine when he’d transitioned from fieldwork to administration otherwise she would’ve left him in the dust.
They passed a small hunter’s cabin and he remarked on it. Miranda answered without stopping, “It belongs to Search and Rescue. It’s fully stocked with canned goods and firewood. If tourists get themselves turned around, they can wait it out until help arrives. It’s also a restocking station for Search and Rescue if they’re up here on a rescue and far from resources. Come on. We have to keep moving.”
As the day progressed and their feet ate up the miles, the horizon began to swallow the sun and bite by bite the air took a sharp turn into bitter cold as the storm became a certainty. It’d been a long time since Jeremiah had done any fieldwork. His bones protested but he never slowed. Like Miranda, he was riding on adrenaline. He wanted to catch the poachers, too. Not because his boss wanted the good publicity, but because it was the right thing to do. Miranda had been working hard, putting her life and career in stasis so she could chase down these perpetrators, and he wanted to catch them for her sake. Miranda was like a woman possessed. She didn’t seem to feel the cold or recognize that they had traveled too far on the trail to make it back to the vehicle before dark. When the first snowflake floated down from the sky Jeremiah knew they were in trouble.
He stopped, breathing hard. “Miranda, we have to turn around.”
Miranda stopped and turned to face him, her nose reddened from the cold, her breath pluming before her. “We have to keep going. We’re close.”
“It’s beginning to snow. We’ll lose the trail once it starts coming down hard. We have to turn around before we get buried in snow.”
Miranda glanced away, scanning the forest until her eyes burned with the strain. She knew he was right. Already the snow was coming down with bigger, fatter flakes. “We are so close, I can feel it. What if they’re just around the corner? I haven’t lost the trail yet. They didn’t cover their tracks as well this time. But if we stop, the snow will cover whatever trail they’ve left behind.”
“Yes, but if we keep going we’ll get stuck in the storm and die of exposure. Be smart about this, Miranda.”
Already they were pretty far from the vehicle. They wouldn’t make it back before nightfall. Walking in the dark while it was snowing was dangerous in and of itself. “We will catch them. Just not today,” he said, trying to soften the blow of disappointment.
“No.” Miranda’s cry of frustration pierced his heart. But he couldn’t let her go on. It was simply too dangerous. “Let’s go.”
Miranda’s gaze cut away but not before he caught the glitter of moisture. “Fine,” she agreed with one final look down the mountain. She surprised him when she suddenly flipped the bird, presumably at the poachers, and muttered, “This is for you, assholes. I hope you slip and break your necks.” She exhaled a sharp breath and readjusted her pack, moving past Jeremiah without further comment. He let her have her space, sensing she needed silence to process her disappointment.
But before they’d even hit a mile back, the skies unleashed a fury of white retribution for an unknown offense and the two found themselves in a bad spot. The snow came down harder and faster, quickly covering the ground and slowing their return. After an hour of struggling through the rapidly gathering snowdrifts, Miranda yelled to Jeremiah above the wind, “We’ll need to make camp at the search-and-rescue station!”
He nodded and they pushed on, knowing they still had to make it to the station and it was probably another mile out. Jeremiah hadn’t kept track of how far they’d gone. He cursed himself for not staying aware of his surroundings—which was something that had been drilled into him back when he’d been a young ranger. Guess he’d been behind a desk for too long to remember the basics. If they managed to survive this night, he made a vow to brush up on his survival skills even if he never planned to embark on such a foolhardy venture again. He knew they shouldn’t have left without following proper procedure, without backup. He’d foolishly allowed Miranda’s passion to overrule his good sense and now they both might pay the ultimate price. He couldn’t feel his toes inside his boots nor his fingers in his gloves and he suspected Miranda was suffering the same but she wasn’t about to admit it.
It was near whiteout conditions and they were nearly on top of the station when they finally saw it emerge from the blizzard curtain. “Thank God,” he said, his teeth chattering hard. Miranda’s hands were shaking as she pushed open the door, and they both stumbled inside, slamming the door behind them. Miranda found her way in the darkened cabin to a rudimentary shelf and lit the kerosene lamp while Jeremiah worked as quickly as his frozen bones would
allow to build a fire in the cold grate. The kindling sparked and caught the dry oak, and within moments, a cheery fire blazed in the hearth, providing further light in the tiny shack. Jeremiah and Miranda stood before the flames warming themselves for quite a while, too cold to speak. The shack was well insulated, and before long, the heat from the fire had chased away the freezer-locker chill.
Jeremiah took stock of the small station. It was as simple as they came but, then, it wasn’t made for luxury. It was made to save lives. A double bed was tucked in the corner and canned goods lined the wood shelves. He took a final look out the window and knew with a certainty that they weren’t going anywhere tonight. Particularly when the radio was in the car and both their cell phones were dead.
Miranda sat on the bed, pulling her sodden socks from her wet boots and laying them to dry near the fire. She quietly watched the flames, disappointment and something else reflecting in her stare.
He knew she was beating herself up and he wasn’t about to let her take all the blame. He went to her and placed a hand gently on her shoulder. She reluctantly met his gaze. “It’s going to be all right. Neither of us knew the magnitude of this storm or how quickly it was going to strike. Let’s just ride it out and start fresh. Okay?”
She accepted his attempt at comfort but then she pulled away. “It wouldn’t have mattered. I would’ve gone either way. I guess that’s the reckless streak everyone likes to point out. I’m sorry I got you wrapped up in this, too.”
He wasn’t sorry. Strangely, he was relieved that he’d chosen to tag along. If he hadn’t, Miranda might’ve died on the mountain. “I wasn’t a helpless victim. I chose, remember? Now, enough of this talk. Let’s pick out dinner. I’m just hungry enough to think that canned sardines sound pretty good.”
She chuckled in spite of herself and got up from the bed. “You’re something else, Jeremiah Burke. Thanks for saving my ass.”
That Reckless Night Page 12