Tank turned to Cassie. “You knew?”
Cassie shrugged. “I thought it was common knowledge.”
“No!” Tank said. “I guess I assumed incorrectly that it was like all the other camps she’s been to.”
“Those were Girl Guide camps, Dad,” Kaia said with an eye roll.
Parenting miscommunication. With the three of them weighing in on every decision, it was bound to happen.
“Dad, relax. They have separate cabins for boys and girls,” Kaia said in an effort to defuse the situation.
Tank was tense as he nodded. Veins appeared in his neck, and his biceps twitched. “They better be separated by a lake or mountain or something.”
“Dad, be cool about this,” Kaia pleaded.
Would Tank still let Kaia go? Montana completely supported him if he decided to change his mind right now. Unfortunately, she still didn’t feel like she’d earned the right to pull rank and forbid Kaia to go, even in light of this new development.
Cassie touched Tank’s arm and nodded her head to the side. “Parent group meeting?”
“We’ll be back. Do not get on that bus,” Tank told Kaia.
Kaia folded her arms across her chest. An annoyed look on her tiny features said if she didn’t get to go to camp that month, they were all in for a really shitty August.
“Okay, so we failed to do the research on this camp,” Cassie said.
It made Montana feel the tiniest bit better to know her ex was capable of a parenting fail. He always seemed to do everything right, but she would have readily continued to feel inadequate to know that they weren’t sending their daughter off to something she wasn’t prepared for.
“But Kaia did. And she feels ready for this,” Cassie said.
“So, you think we should let her go?” Tank asked her.
Montana fought the tinge of jealousy she felt over him wanting Cassie’s opinion first, but she had to get used to the fact that, while she may be the biological mom, Kaia lived with Cassie, and Cassie had been Kaia’s primary female role model for most of her life. She couldn’t—and didn’t want to—replace that.
“Yes,” Cassie said. “We need to show her we trust her.”
“I trust her. It’s all those penises I don’t trust,” Tank said, glaring at the crowd of boys nearby.
“Agreed,” Montana said.
“What do you think we should do?” Tank asked her.
Damn. Now it was on her. Montana looked at Cassie, then shot a glance at Kaia. She hesitated, but it was her time to step up. Tank was asking for her input and giving her influence over this decision. It was a big deal. “I think we should let her go.”
Cassie smiled. Tank looked like he was preparing himself for absolutely no sleep for a month. The three of them approached Kaia.
“You can go,” Tank said.
Kaia hugged Cassie. “Thanks, Cass.”
“It was a group decision,” Cassie said.
“Yeah, right,” Kaia said, picking up her duffel bag from the ground. “I have to get on the bus before they leave without me.”
Kaia hugged Tank, but he was preoccupied putting the fear of God into several boys a few feet away.
Montana noticed the boys quickly avert their eyes. Kaia noticed too. “Dad,” she hissed, “stop.”
“Stop what?”
“Making everyone afraid to talk to me.”
“Not everyone. Just the boys,” Tank said, but his expression softened as he pulled her in for another big hug.
“I’m not interested in boys, Dad,” Kaia said.
“It’s not you I’m worried about, sweetheart,” he said. “I was a teenage boy. I know what runs through their minds.”
Kaia rolled her eyes. “I play hockey with them. Trust me, they don’t see me that way.”
But the hint Montana caught in her tone suggested she was disappointed by that. Luckily Tank didn’t catch it, or he’d be making the executive decision to put Kaia back in his truck and deal with her preteen angst all summer.
Kaia hugged Montana next. “So, you guys are all coming on the twenty-fifth for pickup, right?” She stared at her.
Her little girl still didn’t trust that she wasn’t a flight risk. “We will all be here,” Montana said.
Kaia waved as she boarded the bus. Tank stood near the door and stopped each of the boys from the hockey team as they boarded. “Don’t touch her... Don’t touch her... Don’t touch her...” he warned.
“I seriously doubt Kaia will have any trouble from those boys at camp and not just because Tank’s making them fear for their safety,” Cassie said to her.
Montana forced a laugh. “Yeah, Kaia’s a tough one. And it’s only a month. She will be fine.” She waved as Kaia took a seat on the bus.
Her daughter was strong and brave and could handle anything. Kaia would be fine. But would Montana be fine without her?
They waited until all of the buses had pulled out of the parking lot before heading toward their vehicles.
“So, you have a big day as well,” Tank said, obviously trying to get his mind off chasing after the bus.
“Yeah, I suppose I do.” She’d been so preoccupied with thoughts of Kaia leaving that morning she hadn’t had much time to stress about the course starting that day.
“It’s going to be great,” Cassie said. “Everyone returned their waivers, and fees have all been paid.” She smiled reassuringly at Montana. “Have fun. Be yourself,” she said, then laughed. “Sorry, hard to shake the co-mom advice.”
“Thanks, Cass. I’ll let you know how it goes,” Montana said, climbing onto her motorcycle and reaching for the helmet. She put it on and started the engine, driving away as slow as possible with Tank and Cassie watching.
A half hour later, she stared down into the canyon at the top of the mountain. The fresh air normally filled her with a sense of adventure and serenity. That day she couldn’t find either. Coming to Wild River, launching this new venture had seemed like a new beginning, a way to restart her journey in life. But while the pieces of her future were falling into place, not all of them had landed where she’d hoped.
She was happy for Tank and Cassie, but she couldn’t say her part-time schedule with her daughter was ideal. She was definitely going to be more than a little lost and lonely not having Kaia around for the next month. Her daughter brought her joy and energy that Montana couldn’t quite summon when she was alone. Her partnership with Cassie at SnowTrek was a dream come true. She’d always wanted to teach BASE jumping, but she’d envisioned it a lot further into her future, and she hadn’t expected that she’d be teaching because she couldn’t indulge.
She could jump now, and no one would know...
I don’t think you’re up for this.
Tank’s words of caution that day ten years ago had only annoyed her. Kaia was four months old, and in that last four months, Montana had barely had a day out of the house, ten minutes by herself, let alone entertained the idea of a jump.
Wild River was feeling claustrophobic. Tank was feeling claustrophobic.
They were trying to make things work for Kaia’s sake, but Montana wasn’t happy. Not the way she wanted to be. Not the way a new mother was supposed to be. During her pregnancy, she’d followed all the rules, did everything right, avoiding anything even remotely dangerous. Hell, she’d even stopped working out in the third trimester.
She needed to jump that day or she was going to lose her mind. After a lengthy argument, Tank had given up trying to talk her out of it, and she’d climbed the trail to the jump site.
Running. Jumping. Soaring. Everything was once again balanced within her core. Adrenaline, exhilaration, freedom...
Then she’d hit the side of the mountain. Hard. She’d miscalculated her timing, her distance. She didn’t even have time to panic or be afraid before her world went blac
k.
I don’t think you’re up for this.
Noise from the first ATV sounded behind her on the trail, and she released the past on a deep exhale. She had to pull it together. No more self-pity. She had eight trainees that day, expecting her best. Montana Banks, expert BASE jumper. She needed to instill confidence in these new jumpers to trust her and believe in her, despite her own mistake.
She turned away from the view as the ATVs pulled up into the parking area and eight excited, extreme athletes approached. She plastered a smile on her face, determined not to let anyone know how much this was killing her.
* * *
EDDIE SHOT OFF another round, then lowered his gun back to the holster at his waist and removed the noise-canceling headphones. The shooting target came closer. Holes in the head, neck, chest and stomach revealed he’d hit his marks. In the stall next to him, his coworker, Adams, swore under his breath. Eddie watched the man’s shooting target come closer and joined him in his stall as the guy slammed his headphones to the table.
“Hey, you’re getting better,” Eddie said.
“How the hell did I graduate from the academy when I couldn’t hit the wide side of a bull?” Adams shook his head, taking the target down and balling it. He tossed it into the trash as they left the range.
It wasn’t a mystery, really. Adams was one of the smartest guys to opt out of a college degree and go into the academy. While Eddie had struggled with the written components of his exams and courses, Adams had breezed through. Eddie had the physical skills, the instincts and the sharp eye for targets, but Adams could decode threats and identify suspects based on correspondence and patterns of behavior like no one else.
However, he’d never be allowed to leave the office if he couldn’t learn to hit an unmoving target.
“Keep practicing, man,” Eddie said as they walked across the parking lot. He didn’t think Adams’s problem was aim; it was ignorance and an unwillingness to shoot to kill. Adams’s mother was a teacher and his father a church minister. He was raised in a home that had a more Buddhist approach to life. Eddie doubted Adams had ever killed a mosquito, let alone been able to harm another human, even in self-defense. He’d also lived a rather sheltered life, and unlike Eddie, dinner conversations weren’t always about murder or suicide or theft. Eddie hadn’t known a time when they didn’t have multiple guns in their house. His mother had taken him to the firing range right after his father died and the man was no longer around to stop her.
“I appreciate your help. Hope I didn’t take you away from something important.”
“Nah. I was just planning on heading into the office, anyway.”
“I’m on shift in an hour. Need help with anything?”
Eddie hesitated. He hadn’t told his coworkers about his transfer request to the narcotics division, so he went in when he wasn’t scheduled to review the drug-related crime files. He could use Adams’s help, though, deciphering some of the files. “Sure. Thanks. I’ll see you in an hour,” Eddie said, climbing into his truck.
Fifty minutes later, he sat across from Adams, hot coffee and a box of donuts on the desk between them. “You requested a transfer, didn’t you?” Adams said, scanning the files on Eddie’s desk. Known, convicted drug offenders and dealers from all over Alaska.
No sense denying the obvious. He hadn’t made his ambitions a big secret, anyway. They all knew he wanted more action. “Yeah, but keep it between us, okay? I haven’t heard anything yet, so I’m starting to think the answer is no.” He’d only been a trooper for six months. It was ambitious to even think he’d be eligible to transfer and get the promotion yet, but fear of failure had never prevented him from going after what he wanted before.
“You never know. These things take time,” Adams said, picking up the latest file on the desk. “What exactly are you looking for with these?”
“A common denominator,” Eddie said. “Each of these convicted dealers seem to be operating independently, but the drug they are selling is exactly the same, so it has to be coming from one central dealer.”
“Is there something unique about it?”
“It’s certainly not your average meth or cocaine. It’s a performance-enhancement drug laced with both. Every pill the department has brought in for testing is the same dosage, same quantities.” He opened several files and showed Adams the images of the drugs.
“Shit. Those things look like M&M’s.”
“Exactly why they appeal to kids. It’s called Mystic Rush, and eight high-school athletes tested positive for the drug last year before the semester let out for summer. Two junior-high students ended up in the hospital from an overdose, and one died.” The drug was designed to dissolve quickly and hit the bloodstream within minutes but took a while to show up in regular drug-screening tests. The high was essentially a shot of adrenaline that improved speed, response time and accuracy. It hit hard and fast and wore off quickly, resulting in the addiction. These athletes were quickly relying on it for the extra boost they needed. Those who competed on college-level teams were using almost daily, and the damage to their heart and lungs as a result was irreparable. Health concerns the drug posed was the major concern, but the reliance on the illegal substance was costing talented athletes their careers when they tested positive or stopped using and their performance was viewed as dropping.
“So, the dealers are targeting schools?”
“Schools, sports organizations and community centers. Unfortunately, no one is giving up their source for the product. Guards down at the docks say nothing is coming in on shipping containers that they’ve detected.”
Adams raised a brow. “It’s local made? In Alaska?”
“Seems that way.” It was working its way across the state, and so far there hadn’t been any reported cases of it in Wild River, but it was only a matter of time. Wild River didn’t have a big drug problem, and Eddie hoped to keep it that way, but the local station didn’t really have a team dedicated to keeping this shit off the streets. In Anchorage, he could dig deeper, be more involved, try to stop this from spreading to clean communities like his hometown.
“Okay, well, put me to work. What can I do to help?” Adams asked.
“Find the missing link to these dealers, ’cause so far, I haven’t found it.” Which made his confidence drop. He’d thought maybe if he could prove himself from afar, the narcotics division in Anchorage would see the value in having him on the team, but so far, he hadn’t discovered anything that could tie these offenders together. So, maybe he wouldn’t be such an asset after all.
Maybe that’s why his phone wasn’t ringing.
CHAPTER FOUR
WHAT HAD SHE been thinking, inviting Lance over for dinner instead of letting him take her out? She didn’t cook. She made her best efforts when Kaia was over, but she doubted the world-champion snowboarder was expecting chicken fingers and mac and cheese in lieu of the steakhouse he’d suggested. He was training for the upcoming competition season, so even his cheat days mostly consisted of clean eating.
Montana pushed her cart through the aisles of the grocery store. So far, she had a can of mushroom soup, chicken breasts and a bag of Doritos. Appetizer, main course and dessert? Not the healthiest...
Reaching the produce section, she picked up a bag of grapes, putting them in the front of the cart next to her purse. She scanned the vegetable options. She could make a veggie platter, cut up some carrots and celery. Side of ranch? Not exactly impressive...
Montana scanned the items along the aisle. She didn’t even know what half of this stuff was. Most of the green, leafy stuff all looked alike. Lettuce she could figure out. A Caesar salad couldn’t be that hard, but Lance had never ordered one when they went out, always opting for a chop salad or garden side salad along with whatever beast he was eating. Potatoes were safe, but was he eating carbs this week?
She surveyed the spices. Garlic and pars
ley... Those things made chicken taste good, right? She had no idea. Why the hell was she putting this pressure on herself?
* * *
Montana liked to stay healthy by being active, but food was never important to her. She was always on the go. Staying busy was the only way to keep from losing her mind in the small town, and luckily her inability to sit still kept her in shape.
Her lack of culinary skills was not her fault. Neither of her parents liked to cook. They had a meal-delivery service back in Denver.
Montana stopped the cart in the middle of the aisle, reached into her purse for her cell phone and opened a search engine. Wild River was a small town, but someone must have jumped on the meal-box delivery business by now. She didn’t want fast food, but something that looked homemade...
She absently reached for a grape and popped it into her mouth as the options loaded.
“You going to pay for that grape?”
She jumped, the grape lodging itself in her throat as she turned toward the sound of Eddie’s voice.
His faux-serious expression faded to a teasing grin, then to a look of worry when she started to cough. “Oh, my God. You okay?”
She swallowed hard, and the still fully intact grape slid down her throat. She breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes. Thank you for almost killing me.”
“It was a joke. You know, law enforcement and all,” he said, gesturing toward his uniform.
It hadn’t escaped her notice. The dark navy pants with the stripe down the side and the navy shirt tucked in, nicely hugging his chest and tapered waist, suited him. It was like the uniform was a part of Eddie. It made sense. It was part of who he was. He folded his arms across his chest, and the bulging biceps didn’t escape her notice either.
Eddie wasn’t a big guy, not like Tank. But he was taller than she was and built solid. Attractive in a nonarrogant kind of way. In fact, his complete lack of ego surprised her, given his chosen profession.
“Yeah, I got that,” she said. “I’ll make sure to let them know at the register.”
A Sweet Alaskan Fall Page 5