by Cindi Myers
“Whoever did this, they could be dangerous,” Grant said.
Eve leaned into him. “If you’re saying that just to frighten me, it’s working.”
He forced himself to release his hold on her. It was either that or pull her close and kiss that terrified look away. “If you see anyone suspicious, you call me.”
“Do you think I’m in danger?”
He wanted to reassure her that she would be fine, that he would never let anyone harm her. But he respected her too much to lie to her. “You’re probably fine. But I like to exercise what we call an abundance of caution.”
“Does this mean I’m going to see you again?”
The question caught him off guard. “Would you like that?”
A ghost of a smile played about her full lips. “If I am in danger, you look like a handy man to have around.”
He knew a challenge when he heard one. “I plan on sticking close.”
He’d leave it up to Eve how close he could get.
MOUNTAIN OF EVIDENCE
Cindi Myers
Cindi Myers is the author of more than fifty novels. When she’s not crafting new romance plots, she enjoys skiing, gardening, cooking, crafting and daydreaming. A lover of small-town life, she lives with her husband and two spoiled dogs in the Colorado mountains.
Books by Cindi Myers
Harlequin Intrigue
The Ranger Brigade: Rocky Mountain Manhunt
Investigation in Black Canyon
Mountain of Evidence
Eagle Mountain Murder Mystery: Winter Storm Wedding
Ice Cold Killer
Snowbound Suspicion
Cold Conspiracy
Snowblind Justice
Eagle Mountain Murder Mystery
Saved by the Sheriff
Avalanche of Trouble
Deputy Defender
Danger on Dakota Ridge
The Ranger Brigade: Family Secrets
Murder in Black Canyon
Undercover Husband
Manhunt on Mystic Mesa
Soldier’s Promise
Missing in Blue Mesa
Stranded with the Suspect
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com.
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Commander Grant Sanderlin—The divorced father of two has recently taken charge of the Ranger Brigade. He’s fed up with Dane Trask’s games of hide-and-seek and hopes Eve can provide some answers.
Eve Shea—Dane’s former lover wants marriage and a family—something Dane wasn’t willing to give. She broke up with him and is trying to start fresh, but a mysterious letter from Dane pulls her into the mystery of his disappearance.
Dane Trask—This former army ranger has disappeared in the wilds of Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park. Why did he leave his job as a successful engineer for TDC Enterprises and abandon those who care about him?
Toby Masterson—Dane’s former colleague at TDC is pursuing Eve. He and Dane have a lot in common. Will Eve be one more thing they share?
Mitch Ruffino—The TDC vice president alternately praises and condemns Dane Trask and has offered a large reward for his capture.
For Gay and Reed
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Excerpt from Crime Scene Cover-Up by Julie Miller
Chapter One
Missing Man: Presumed Dangerous
$25,000 Reward!
The bold announcement on the poster tacked to the post office bulletin board was enough to catch the attention of almost every patron who waited in line, but it was the photo beneath the words that made Eve Shea’s stomach sink. The dark-haired man with the chiseled features of an outdoorsman and determined blue eyes looked out from what was probably a company ID photo, but in the context of the poster looked more like a mug shot.
Wanted: Dane Trask
43, 6′2″, 180 lb.
Blue eyes, dark brown hair
Armed and dangerous
If you know anything about the whereabouts of this man, call the number below.
Dane, where are you, and what have you done? Eve thought as she stared at the picture of her former lover—the man she had once dreamed of marrying. Though she and Dane had agreed to stop seeing each other six months ago, Eve couldn’t help but feel for him. He hadn’t been the man she needed, but she had believed he was a good man, and now the news reports were saying that he had done terrible things—embezzled money from his employer, and even committed acts of terrorism. Could she really have loved a terrorist?
“Ma’am? It’s your turn.” The man behind her in line got Eve’s attention and nodded toward the front counter, where a clerk waited, deep frown lines furrowing her brow.
“Oh! Sorry.” Eve hurried to the counter and handed over her parcel to be weighed.
Dane was still on her mind as she exited the building a few moments later and started the short walk to the flower shop she owned on Main Street in Montrose, Colorado. The last time she had heard from him had been two months ago, when he had texted to wish her a happy birthday. It was just like him to remember and acknowledge the date. “I understand we can’t be lovers,” he had said when they ended their three-year relationship. “But I’ll always be your friend.”
A knot formed in her throat at the memory. In some ways, the split might have been easier if he had been a jerk about it, but that just wasn’t Dane. He wasn’t the type to act out of anger or spite. Looking back, she could say that was one of the reasons things hadn’t worked out between them—Dane was always so controlled. She had wanted passion, romance, an undying commitment.
She had wanted a baby. And Dane had been adamant that he had no desire to be a father again. He adored his daughter, Audra, but she was twenty-three and he had no interest in raising another child. It was the one big difference they simply couldn’t get past.
She pushed open the door to Eve’s Garden and an electronic chime announced her entry. She breathed in the scents of fresh roses and carnations and some of the tension in her shoulders eased. A trio of fountains burbled in the corner and a pyramid of ivy, ferns and other green plants basked in the light streaming through the front display window. Fresh flower arrangements awaited buyers from a bank of lighted coolers, and racks of greeting cards and shelves of small gift items invited browsing. Everything about this place was peaceful and beautiful, the product of her inspiration and hard work.
“Good morning.” Sarah Maclean, a tall fortysomething woman who wore her blond hair in a pixie cut, emerged from the shop’s back room. Eve had hired Sarah as her first full-time employee two years ago. She hadn’t been looking to take on any help but Sarah, who had experience as a floral designer and a desire to go back to work once her youngest child entered high school, had persuaded Eve that she would be an asset to the business. Which, indeed, she was. “I’ve got the arrangements for the Women’s Club luncheon ready to go, and I just sent Manuel out with the orders for First Bank and Hightower Financial,” S
arah said.
“Thanks,” Eve said, passing through to behind the front counter. “I’d say you’re far too energetic this early in the morning, but I’d be a fool to complain.”
“I never can sleep past six and I like to keep busy,” Sarah said. “Oh, and I stopped by the post office on my way in and collected the mail from our box. It’s on your desk.”
Eve had been so shaken by Dane’s wanted poster she had forgotten to even check the post office box. “I’ll go through the mail, then start working on the order for the Salazar wedding and reception,” she said. The wedding and subsequent banquet would require an extra shipment of roses, lilies, stephanotis, and trailing ivy for the bride’s bouquet, six bridesmaids’ bouquets, boutonnieres for the groom, father of the bride, attendants and ushers, corsages for the mothers of the bride and groom, a hair wreath for the flower girl, four large arrangements for the front of the church, and ten table arrangements for the reception, plus small swags for the buffet tables. It could easily be Eve’s largest commission of the year.
“All right, but first I want to know how your date went on Friday night.” Sarah picked up her coffee cup and leaned back against the counter, as if in anticipation of a long chat. “Was he as good-looking as his picture online? Did the two of you hit it off?”
Eve had to think a moment to recall what Sarah was talking about. Friday already seemed so long ago. She shrugged. “He was okay, but I doubt I’ll see him again.”
Sarah’s shoulders and face sagged with disappointment. “What happened? Why wouldn’t he want to see you again? You’re so nice, and funny, and is he blind, because honestly, you’re gorgeous.”
Eve laughed. “You might be a little bit biased.” In addition to running the shop with the organization only a mother of four could bring, Sarah was intent on whipping Eve’s life into shape. She wasn’t overly pushy, just Eve’s number one champion and cheerleader. “Nothing happened. Not really.” That was part of the problem. Doug Howard had been a well-mannered, good-looking, friendly guy who owned a local pest control company. He was divorced with two boys, and seemed like a good father and a very nice man. But Eve had felt zero attraction to him and by the end of the evening was counting the minutes until she could politely say good-night.
“No sparks, huh?” Sarah looked sympathetic. “Don’t you worry, hon. You keep putting yourself out there and you’ll find the right man.”
Eve nodded. “I won’t stop trying, I promise.” After her split with Dane, she and Sarah had devised what they called “the plan.” Eve had registered for two online dating sites, and discreetly put the word out to friends that she was interested in meeting eligible men who were ready to settle down and start a family. She reasoned that the more candidates for “the one” she auditioned, the more likely she was to meet her Mr. Right. It was a little like interviewing a candidate for a job—the most important job she could imagine—her life partner and the father of her children.
But in six months of going out at least once and often twice a week, she hadn’t even come up with one possible finalist for the position.
“What about Saturday?” Sarah asked. “Did you go out Saturday night?”
“Saturday I stayed home.” She had binge-watched romantic movies, eaten ice cream and, frankly, felt sorry for herself.
“All this stuff with Dane has you upset, doesn’t it?” Sarah asked. She knew the whole story of Dane and Eve’s ill-fated relationship. Eve sometimes thought her friend mourned the break-up harder than Eve had. Now Sarah’s expressive features twisted into a look of horror and pity. “The news stories are just horrible, but you have to ignore them. Dane isn’t part of your life anymore. You have to move on.”
“Dane will always be part of my life,” she said. “A part that’s in the past, but I can’t just ignore the fact that he’s missing and no one knows whether he’s dead or alive. And that he’s been accused of horrible things. That isn’t like the man I know at all.”
“I saw a notice at the post office this morning,” Sarah said. “Offering a $25,000 reward for information about Dane’s whereabouts. The poster said he’s dangerous. Do you think that’s true?”
Was Dane dangerous? He certainly hadn’t been to her. But he had been an army ranger, and he was athletic and fit, and knew how to handle a gun. For some unknown reason, he had left his job almost a month ago, saying he was headed for a hike in Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park. And he hadn’t been heard from since. Park rangers found his black Ford pickup at the bottom of the canyon, but they hadn’t found his body or his backpack, which led some people to believe Dane had tried to fake his own death.
But why?
“You’re not answering me,” Sarah said. “Does that mean you think Dane is dangerous?”
“No!” Eve protested. “I just...” She shrugged. “Before all this, I would have said I knew Dane pretty well. Now, I don’t know what to think.”
“I always liked him,” Sarah said. “Even if I did think he took you for granted. And I never understood why he was so reluctant to have more children. I mean, he and Audra get along great. You’d think he would want to repeat the experience.”
It was an old argument, one Eve no longer wanted to hear. “I can’t worry about Dane now. I have to get to work.”
She moved to the tiny kitchen off the workspace and poured a cup of coffee from the pot Sarah had started earlier, then carried it to her desk in the equally tiny office. There was just enough room in there for a desk, a filing cabinet and a desk chair. Any visitors to the office had to stand in the doorway to speak to her.
She switched on her computer, then began sorting the pile of mail on the desk blotter. A floral supply catalog, two flyers from printing companies, an announcement about a florists’ convention, a reminder about a seasonal sale from one of her suppliers, a bill from a wholesaler and a small pile of ads and come-ons she transferred straight to the recycling bin under the desk.
At the bottom of the pile was a nine-by-twelve manila envelope. When she turned it over to read the address on the front, she stopped breathing for a moment. The envelope didn’t have a return address, but the handwriting for her name and PO box was familiar to her from birthday and Valentine’s cards over the past few years.
Hand trembling, she picked up the silver letter opener embossed with the name of a floral wholesaler—a trade show freebie from last year—and slit open the envelope. She slid out a single sheet of paper.
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
TDC Enterprises Falsifies Reports in
Major Environmental Fraud
The press release that followed charged TDC with lying about contaminant levels at a mine site they had contracted to clean up as part of the federal government’s Superfund cleanup program. TDC had been awarded a hefty chunk of taxpayer money to return the contaminated Mary Lee Mine to an environmentally safe condition, free of arsenic, mercury, sulfuric acid and other hazardous chemicals that had leached into soil and water on or near the site over the years.
Instead of using the government funds to remove contaminants from the site, this press release charged TDC with adding even more contaminants, and then lying about everything in official reports.
Eve read through the release twice, her wariness growing. Unlike the traditional press releases that had crossed her desk in the three years she had worked for the Montrose Daily Press prior to opening this shop, this one contained no contact information, or sources for these allegations.
She picked up the envelope again and examined it. Something hard lay inside. She upended the envelope and a brass key landed on the desk with a thunk. Pain squeezed her heart as she stared at the key. She had one just like it, tucked away in the jewelry box on top of her dresser at home. Dane had given her that key. Why was he sending her its mate now?
Chapter Two
“Dane Trask is becoming a huge pain in the keister.” Range
r Brigade Commander Grant Sanderlin would have preferred to use stronger language to describe the current focus of his force’s efforts, but he had given up swearing for Lent and, after a lecture from his ex-wife about watching his mouth around their daughters, he was trying to keep up the practice. Dane Trask’s efforts to frustrate his pursuers at every turn were making that more of a challenge.
“Trask is annoying,” Lieutenant Randall Knightbridge agreed from his position at the conference table to Grant’s right. Knightbridge’s full-sleeve tattoos peeking beneath the cuffs of his uniform shirt reminded Grant of the skateboarders his oldest daughter used to date. But in Grant’s first month in command of the Ranger Brigade, he had learned that Knightbridge’s deep-set dark eyes didn’t miss a thing. “But Terrell, Davis and Compton are just as bad.”
Yes, TDC Enterprises, Trask’s employer and the chief source of the allegations against him, had managed to insert themselves into the investigation in ways that grated. Their insistence on offering a $25,000 reward for Trask’s apprehension, and then bypassing law enforcement altogether and setting up their own information hotline, meant the Rangers weren’t privy to any information TDC received about Trask unless the company decided to share it. And more recently, two killers who may or may not have been TDC employees had tried to murder one of Grant’s officers and the woman who was now, apparently, that officer’s fiancée.
“We’re still trying to find out more about the men who attacked Officer Beck and Cara Mead,” Officer Carmen Redhorse, on Grant’s left, said. Grant thought of the sharp and fearless Redhorse, a native Ute, as the most tenacious of the officers under his new command. She wouldn’t stop searching until she had discovered all there was to know about the two killers. “TDC isn’t being very cooperative, and a judge refused to grant us a warrant for their employment records,” Redhorse continued.
“Keep talking to everyone who had contact with Walter George and Anthony Durrell at TDC,” Grant said. “Someone knows if TDC was as ignorant of the men’s histories as they say, or if they hired them as killers.” He looked around the table. “What else have we got?”