He grinned. “You never could hold that tongue.”
I shook my head, filled with relief. “I promise, I’ll—”
“All right. All right. Enough already. I forgive you.”
I hugged him again, holding on tight, needing to feel his strength.
When he eased back from my embrace, he looked me up and down. “What the hell happened, girl? You look like shit.”
“Yeah, well.”
He turned toward Dalton, concerned.
My eyes got misty. “Every time I come in here to see him, he’s sleeping.”
Chris pulled me close with one arm, squeezing me to him. “What do the doctors say?”
“He lost a lot of blood, but they say he’s going to be fine.”
“Well, then. I’m sure he will.” His eyebrows shot up and with his teasing voice, he said, “The most important question then is: did you get the bad guy?”
My eyes dropped to the floor. I couldn’t talk about it. Not yet.
Chris nodded in understanding. He saw the bandages on my arm and frowned. “I don’t suppose it would do any good to try to convince you to take a desk job?”
I shook my head, smiled. Then giggles bubbled up from inside and we both burst into laughter. It felt good.
“You are taking a vacation with me though,” he said, feigning a stern father’s voice. “I won’t take no for an answer.”
I raised my right hand. “I promise.” No argument from me. I needed a break. Some time to think. Some time with my best friend, to talk and—“Oh Chris. You had something you wanted to tell me. What was it? Tell me. Tell me please.”
He shook his head. “Right now isn’t—it can wait. You come on vacation with me and I’ll tell you all about it. Deal?”
I nodded. “Deal.”
“Hey there. Welcome back,” Chris said, his eyes focused over my shoulder.
I spun around.
Dalton’s face was still pale, but his eyes were lit with vigor. Relief came upon me like the warm sun breaking from behind a dark cloud.
“You’re awake!”
His eyes held mine. My teeth clenched together and my lip quivered. I wanted to hug him, hold him, tell him how scared I’d been.
Chris put his hand on my arm. “I’m going to go. I’ll be at the hotel.”
I gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
Once he’d left, I wrapped my arms around Dalton’s neck and squeezed him tight to be sure he was really alive. “You’re here. You’re really okay.”
“Thanks to you.”
I sat back and stared at him, holding his hand in mine. There were so many emotions swirling around in my head. But Dalton was alive. That’s all that mattered right now. Tomorrow I could worry about the rest.
He gave me a smile. “I’ve been thinking,” he said. “We should—”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you. It was—”
“What?” His eyes softened. His eyes traveled to my lips and held there. “I’m quite sure that I kissed you.”
My breath caught in my throat.
He squeezed my hand.
I exhaled. “We should what?”
“What?”
“You started to say, we should…”
“You know. When I get out of here, we should go out and do something. Together.”
I couldn’t help but grin. “Are you asking me out on a date?”
He held my gaze. “Would you say yes?”
“I might as well.” I shrugged. “I mean, since I’ll be fired and we won’t be working together anymore.”
He stared at me for the longest time, that mind of his weighing something.
“Nice to see you’re up and well.”
I swung around toward the door and the source of the voice. A man. I blinked. Stan Martin? “Omigosh, sir.” I yanked my hand from Dalton’s and started to get up, but he held out a hand, gesturing for me to stay seated. “What are you doing here? I mean, all this way and—”
“Two of my agents have been injured on duty. I wanted to come myself, make sure you’re taken care of.” He yanked the chair out from against the wall, sat down, smoothed his tie against his shirt, then looked up at me. “I take it you’re feeling better.”
It all came rushing back. The investigative hearing. My job on the line. And now I was going to have to explain shooting Rocky. “I know you have concerns—”
He held up his hand. “Don’t worry about that right now.” He gave me a warm, genuine smile. “I understand that if you hadn’t taken the action you did, Dalton wouldn’t be alive today.”
“No. He’s the one who saved me. He—”
The hand again. “I’m glad to see you humble. But Joe’s already told me the whole story.” His eyes went to Dalton and mine followed. “In fact, he’s been singing your praises. From the sounds of it, you’re a candidate for a medal of honor.”
I turned back to Mr. Martin, keeping it together. “I’m sure that’s not—”
“Poppy,” Dalton interrupted. “You saved my life. The doc said if you hadn’t got me back to the lodge when you did, I would have bled out for sure. I wouldn’t have made it through the night.”
My stomach clenched. This was too—get a grip. I pasted on a cordial smile and said to Mr. Martin, “I can’t believe you came all the way to Alaska.”
“Actually, I wanted to talk to you two anyway. Give you the news in person.”
I shot a glance at Dalton. What news? Dalton shrugged.
“The President has created a task force, an elite team, if you will,” Martin said, “to investigate animal-related cases. Wildlife and domestic.” He hesitated, as though what he was about to say he wasn’t sure he wanted to share. “You’re participation was specifically requested. In fact,” he cleared his throat, “ it was more like a demand.”
He was looking at me. “Me?”
“You are the one who single-handedly apprehended Ray Goldman, our most-wanted, are you not?” His face looked like he was actually in physical pain as he spit out those words. Either that or constipated.
“Yes. I mean, Dalton and I did. Together. We’re a team.”
“Indeed. And I’m glad to hear you say that.”
“Did you say the President, sir? Of the United States?”
“Yes, the President of the United States.”
I turned to Dalton. He was grinning. “Your mouth is hanging open.”
I snapped it shut.
“I reported that you two need some time to recuperate. As soon as you’re up to it, you’ll join the team. That is, if you want to?”
I nodded, then caught my head bobbing. An elite task force. I couldn’t believe it.
“But sir,” I said. “This op, there was an incident and—”
“Yes,” he said with an exaggerated nod. “Joe told me about that. A hunting accident. Unfortunate, but, it happens.” He straightened his tie. “We did a little digging. It seems the man in question was wanted in Iowa for assault, kidnapping, and multiple weapons offenses. I guess they can close the case.”
Was that it? I’d killed a man and it would be scribbled in a report, stuck in a manila folder in the back of a file cabinet somewhere, as a hunting accident? Was that justice?
“What about Townsend?” I asked.
“Joe will be by later this evening to fill you in.”
“Okay, but Irene, his wife, doesn’t know about the poaching. I’m sure of it,” I said. “She shouldn’t be arrested.”
“Put it in the report,” Martin said, nodding in understanding. “But I don’t believe Joe plans to arrest anyone just yet. The man’s got a dead body on his hands. We’ll see how he deals with that.” He gave us an amused smirk. “Joe seems to really be enjoying making Townsend squirm. This Rocky fellow might have acted on his own trafficking in wildlife parts, but Joe’s convinced Townsend was complicit in the poaching. The guy’s already offered a two-week hunt, next year, opening day, on the house, to make it up to you.” He winked. “Next ye
ar you’ll have your trophy.”
He rose from the chair, smoothed his tie, and straightened his back. “So, we’re clear,” he said, his gaze intense, “you’ve had an exemplary career so far, outstanding even. Not one blemish. And I can count on you both to represent us on the task force?”
I nodded, my mouth hanging open again. There’d be no inquisition? No investigative hearing? All swept under the rug because the President had called?
“We’ll see you back at headquarters then.” He nodded to Dalton and headed for the door. “As soon as you are up and at ‘em.”
“Thank you, sir.” Dalton’s words followed him down the hall, then he turned his attention to me. “Are you happy?”
I nodded. “You’re going to be all right.”
“Yes, but I mean about the task force?”
I couldn’t help myself. The thought of being on that elite team filled me with excited energy. I bounced a little on the bed, grinning like an idiot. “I can’t believe it. Can you believe it?” I was going to need to let it sink in. “A presidential task force. Think of what we’ll be able to accomplish.”
“Government work.” He rolled his eyes, teasing me. “It’s all the same.”
“I wonder what we’ll be called. Maybe we’ll have special berets. You’d look good in a beret,” I said, teasing him back. “Maybe they’ll call us The Green Berets—oh wait, that’s taken. Maybe we’ll have to come up with our own, secret name. Like—” I thought a moment “—Righteous Animal Crusaders against Evil.”
“If the government gives it a name,” he said, “it will be dull and practical, like, Task Force for Animal Enforcement.”
“You mean like the SEALs? Sea, air, land.”
Dalton looked at me with those eyes, those irresistible eyes. “Whatever it’s called, if you’re in, I’m in.”
I shook my head, the emotions rushing back in. I hadn’t been a good partner to him. “You were right. About the plane. That was a risky stunt I pulled.”
He smiled wide. “I’m glad you did.”
I relaxed a little. “Order a body bag. Was that supposed to be funny?”
The smile disappeared. “No.”
“Don’t ever say that again. Ever.”
“Okay.”
“I mean it.”
“Okay.”
“Because I—we—“
“I know.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I killed him, Dalton. I killed him.”
He squeezed my hand. “I’m so sorry, Poppy.”
“You were right about me. About…” I lifted my head, looked him in the eyes. “I’d do it again.”
His eyes held mine.
“But now, with this—” My thoughts followed Stan Martin down the hall and the new assignment, the new team we’d be on. Together. Working as partners. “On the task force. We can’t—”
“Kiss me.”
I hesitated.
His eyes. “Kiss me.”
I leaned down, my lips met his, and everything else floated away.
I nuzzled my face against his chest, felt the comforting rise and fall as he breathed.
“We’ll figure it out,” he said, stroking my hair.
But I knew better. We couldn’t work together. Not as partners. We had let our guard down. We’d damn near gotten killed because of it.
I’d have to choose.
MORE IN THE SERIES
The adventure doesn’t end for
Poppy and Dalton.
Join them in Mexico as they pursue turtle poachers in
Operation Turtle Ransom
Order it here
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AUTHOR'S NOTE
Wildlife trafficking is estimated at over $20 billion annually and is rivaled only by illegal drugs and weapons in the money it earns criminals. The number of organized crime syndicates profiting from large scale trafficking is mind blowing. Millions of wild animals are captured and slaughtered each year for traditional medicine and aphrodisiacs, exotic pets, souvenirs and religious trinkets.
This cruel holocaust MUST STOP.
Thank YOU for reading. If you feel as strongly as I do about the issues presented in this book and you want to help, PLEASE start by taking a moment to post a review on Amazon.com and Goodreads.com and tell a friend about the story. Help me spread the word. For the animals!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Born and raised in Michigan, I spent summers at the lake, swimming, catching frogs, and chasing fireflies, winters building things out of cardboard and construction paper, writing stories, and dreaming of faraway places. Since I didn’t make honors English in High School, I thought I couldn’t write. So I started hanging out in the art room. The day I borrowed a camera, my love affair with photography began. Long before the birth of the pixel, I was exposing real silver halides to light and marveling at the magic of an image appearing on paper under a red light.
After college, I freelanced in commercial photography studios. During the long days of rigging strobes, one story haunted me. As happens in life though, before I could put it to words, I was possessed by another dream—to be a wildlife photographer. I trekked through the woods to find loons, grizzly bears, whales, and moose. Then, for six years, I put my heart and soul into publishing a nature magazine, Whisper in the Woods. But it was not meant to be my magnum opus. This time, my attention was drawn skyward. I’d always been fascinated by the aurora borealis, shimmering in the night sky, but now my focus went beyond, to the cosmos, to wonder about our place in the universe.
In the spring of 2010, I sat down at the computer, started typing words, and breathed life into a curious boy named Kiran in The Path to the Sun. Together, in our quest for truth, Kiran and I have explored the mind and spirit. Our journey has taken us to places of new perspective. Alas, the answers always seem just beyond our grasp, as elusive as a firefly on a warm autumn night.
Most recently, my focus has shifted to more pressing issues—imperiled wildlife. With the Poppy McVie series, I hope to bring some light into the shadowy underworld of black market wildlife trade, where millions of wild animals are captured or slaughtered annually to fund organized crime. IT. MUST. STOP.
If you’d like to learn more and stay in touch, please sign up for my newsletter or follow my blog at www.KimberliBindschatel.com
COPYRIGHT
Published by Turning Leaf Productions, LLC.
Traverse City, Michigan
www.KimberliBindschatel.com
Copyright ©2016 Kimberli A. Bindschatel
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Thank you for purchasing this book and supporting an indie author.
Poppy McVie Mysteries: Books 1-3 (The Poppy McVie Box Set Series) Page 54