Walker Pierce

by Christa Wick

  Chapter Two

  From the distance of a few feet, Walker Turk stared at the skinned carcass of a red fox. Standing over the body, Agent Callahan scattered the flies covering the bloodied flesh by waving a stick before she took a few photographs.

  “How long do you figure it’s been dead?” he asked.

  With a gloved hand, she manipulated the dead animal’s rear left leg.

  “Blood is only semi-congealed. No signs of rigor and no larval infestation, which would be present if rigor had come and gone,” she answered, her voice detached as she began to walk around the animal in a widening circle. “I figure a maximum of three to four hours since it died.”

  “So whoever did this could still be in the park?”

  “Yes, but unlikely.”

  As the woman walked, he noticed that a small limp affected her gait. He had no idea when it started because his attention had been riveted to her other physical attributes during the hike. The hips were a favorite. And that nice, round backside that bobbed hypnotically in front of him like a birthday balloon.

  Can’t forget the breasts, he thought, running his thumb against his lower lip. Those were definite handfuls.

  His brain clouded for a second with the question of what her nipples were like. Thick, for sure, but what color? Hell, he didn’t care what color. He would happily suck them to the dark red tint he preferred before moving down her ripe body to lick and tease other areas.

  Maybe then, she’d tell him her first name.

  “Something wrong?” Callahan asked when she caught him staring at her.

  Walker swallowed, his head moving in a motion that was neither a nod nor a shake.

  “Your leg, did you hurt it today?” he asked.

  Her cloudy gaze darkened.

  Walker pointed at her left leg. “You’re limping. You seemed fine when we were at the job site.”

  She garbled a reply then bent down and took another photo. After the first shot, she pulled the measuring tape from her pocket, slid it out next to the object and captured a second image.

  Walker was curious about what she had found, but the dismissal of his question about her leg bothered him more.

  “You’re limping,” he repeated.

  “Broke the tibia a few years back.” Callahan pulled an evidence bag from her pocket, placed the object inside then wrote on the bag. “Acts up sometimes.”

  He decided to let it go—for the time being.

  “What did you find?”

  “Shell casing, small caliber, 22.”

  He grunted, his brain and body confused. He couldn’t decide whether a woman walking around with a gun strapped to her hip, identifying casings and rattling off forensic details and conclusions was sexy or off-putting.

  Catching her gaze locked on him as she prowled in his direction, Walker’s brain and body reached a sudden, irrevocable agreement.

  Agent Callahan was definitely sexy. Especially with all those curves. He didn’t even need to imagine her gold-brown hair escaping its ponytail and playing loose around her elegant shoulders or neck.

  “Your foot,” she snapped, pointing at his right boot.

  Looking down, he saw light reflect off clear wire.

  “Fishing line?”

  “You see so much as a creek around here?”

  Walker shook his head. She was forceful, but he was accustomed to being around strong women. His family was full of them.

  Only this was the first time he found the quality downright sexy. Like, rock hard sexy.

  He smiled.

  Callahan glared.

  Meeting her gaze even when it was angry didn’t bother Walker. She had the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen—a smoky gray that belonged in a bedroom. His bedroom, he amended, imagining his fingers digging into the ample flesh of her thighs as he held them apart and penetrated her core.

  Ending the staring contest, Callahan bent down and pushed Walker’s leg until he took a careful step backward.

  “The wire could be part of a snare,” she explained, pulling out her camera and running through the same steps as she had for the cartridge. With the wire marked as potential evidence, she returned to the case she had brought with her and pulled out a large black bag. “I need to check on the den before we lose daylight.”

  Walker nodded, his tongue numb as she unzipped the bag and he realized its purpose and Callahan’s intent. She was taking the carcass with her.

  “Do you think you can carry my case?” she asked, carefully maneuvering the animal into the body bag.

  “Sure…I mean, no—” Shaking his head, he pointed at the black lump she had just zipped up. “I mean, I’ll carry whatever you want me to. If you’d rather take the case, I can carry the carcass.”

  “Just the case.”

  She clipped two straps onto the body bag then threaded her arms through them before heading north with a grim smile. He followed. They hiked in silence for about a mile. Callahan led the way, her limp worsening to the point Walker wanted to stop and demand she let him carry both the case and the macabre package strapped to her back.

  She held her hand up, signaling a halt. Pointing some twenty yards in front of them, she directed his gaze to a hole in the side of a short mound. If that was the den, there were no cubs or adult foxes on the outside and no sounds suggesting they might be inside.

  Callahan resumed taking pictures, moving in ever-decreasing arcs until she reached the den and pronounced it empty.

  “Could they have just left?” Walker asked.

  Predators much larger than foxes had always been the concern on his family’s cattle ranch. Mountain lions, coyotes, and wolves could not only take down an animal, they could stress the entire herd to the point of some of the pregnant cows miscarrying. Foxes just weren’t a consideration, so he knew nothing about them.

  Callahan shrugged. “The adults might have scented the dead fox and abandoned the den, taking the cubs. Or they could have left days ago.”

  Frowning, she put her face close to the foxhole and sniffed.

  “Fresh urine.”

  Okay, not everything about Agent Callahan was sexy, Walker mused for half a second before the needle began to swing back in her direction because, yeah, there certainly was something to be said about her having that kind of dedication to work.

  Would she bring the same level of commitment to a relationship?

  Getting a little ahead of yourself, he thought, schooling his expression to something neutral as Callahan stood up and walked toward where she had left him with her case and the body bag with its dead fox inside.

  “I really appreciate you bringing me out here,” she said, shouldering the carcass. “Evidence is fragile in these conditions. Between the weather and other animals, the bullet casing and snare wire could have been gone tomorrow and the body dragged off, maybe even buried depending on the badger population.”

  Forcing down a flicker of guilt, Walker nodded. His motives for offering her the ride, even goading her into the trip, had been purely selfish. She was a beautiful woman who flushed prettily when riled up. Without those qualities, he was ashamed to admit he would still be at the job site waiting for Gamble to appear and investigate who was trying to sabotage his operations.

  “We should be getting back to the truck,” he said, looking at how close the sun had gotten to the horizon. “Going to start losing daylight pretty fast.”

  “Agreed.” She walked past him, a subtle smile making her face glow.

  Shouldering the case, Walker hurried to catch up.

  “Hey, I wanted to apologize for the whining about the Feds thing I did at the job site,” he said. “It’s just that my brother works for the FBI and, counting today, there have been four incidents.”

  “He might have passed it off to the local office,” she offered.

  “Uh—no,” Walker snorted, his grip on the case’s strap tightening. “He IS the local office.”

  “He may wish to avoid the appearance of impropriety or s
tepping on the local LEO tails.”

  With a barking laugh, Walker shook his head. “Emerson would stomp all over their tails, but I imagine you’re right about the impropriety thing. He’s probably the biggest starched shirt you’ll ever meet.”

  “Well, if I meet him, I’ll send you my official assessment.”

  His hand reaching out to cup the woman’s elbow, Walker stopped. “Was that a joke, Agent Callahan?”

  She smiled, her cheeks colored by the setting sun. “I guess. And, uh, forget calling me Agent Callahan.”

  Walker returned the smile, his body growing warmer despite the temperature dropping several degrees since they had first reached the den.

  “What should I call you?”

  “First name is Ashley, but most people wind up calling me ‘Ash.’”

  Because of those smoky bedroom eyes, Walker thought, his smile breaking into a grin.

  “Well, Ash,” he said, extending his hand. “You be sure to call me Walker when your job doesn’t dictate otherwise.”

  She responded with a mock growl. “You better hope it doesn’t dictate otherwise. You’ll lose your Junior Deputy badge if I have to talk to you in an official capacity.”

  Walker stared at the woman for a long minute, savoring the play of evening colors against her fair skin and gold-brown hair. With his grin widening, he threw her a wink.

  “You can take the badge, just leave me the handcuffs.”

  Chapter Three

  “I can open my own doors,” Ashley grumbled as Walker curled his fingers around the passenger side handle.

  With both windows lowered, a breeze blew through the truck’s cabin. The gentle wind carried with it the scent of wildflowers. He knew the sweet smell belonged to the woman, the fragrance caressing his nose on the drive to and from the park. It didn’t pervade, just served as a subtle reminder that Ashley was in the vehicle close enough for him to reach over and touch.

  Walker had checked the impulse to do just that, same as he was checking the impulse to offer a ridiculous, courtly bow as he opened the door. The grin, however, couldn’t be reined in.

  “Only if you’re faster than I am,” he winked. “Besides, my truck, my rules. I don’t care if a lady is one or one hundred, I’m opening the door for her.”

  Ashley lifted a finely arched eyebrow, the expression slaying him after the robot mask she had slid on when they first started off for Lewis & Clark.

  “Even when she has a firearm strapped to her hip?”

  His smile cracked wider.

  “Especially then.”

  His mouth sobered when she didn’t react, her face once again frozen. Fine lines of strain squeezed at the exterior corners of her eyes.

  “Leg?” he asked.

  Lips pressing together, she nodded.

  “Well, you take your time.”

  “You’ve both been taking your time,” Sheriff Gamble groused, sneaking up on them in the dark. “You better have a good reason for—”

  Catching his first glimpse of Ashley under the truck’s dome light, a smirk replaced the irritated jut of Gamble’s chin.

  “Oh, I see.”

  Walker’s gaze jumped to Ashley. The faint traces of pain pinching her face hardened into thick valleys of irritation. She slid her right leg out, cheeks flushing as the left slowly followed and her weight settled.

  “No offense,” Gamble shrugged at the woman. “I just expect someone with half a million in equipment out of commission and potentially deadly sabotage to the trees on the land he’s working to be on site when I show up to investigate.”

  “Don’t let him bust your balls, Walker. Sheriff’s only been here fifteen minutes,” Kostya chuckled, emerging from the same shadowy path with two Styrofoam cups of coffee. He handed the first cup to Ashley and the second to Walker. “Seeing as there isn’t anything to eat or drink between here and the park, I figured the two of you could use some caffeine.”

  Pulling some sugar packets from his pocket, he offered them to Ashley.

  “Like it straight,” she said before taking her first sip. “And this is heavenly, thank you.”

  Kostya beamed for a second then jerked when Walker plucked three of the sugar packets from Kostya’s open hand.

  “Thanks.” Walker didn’t need to ask whether Kostya had filled Gamble in on the details. That conversation had already taken place over the radio as the Sheriff drove in from Willow Gap. Instead, he turned to Gamble for other news. “Any fatalities at the wreck?”

  The man’s thick brows knitted together, but he shook his head. “Had to air evac a seven-year-old. Still haven’t heard back from the hospital. Little boy.”

  “Anyone local?”

  Again, Gamble shook his head. “Some accounts manager from Santamo trying to invoice and drive at the same time crossed lanes, hit a family of five in the mini-van on their way up to Glacier National Park. They rolled and came to a stop on another vehicle.”

  Walker’s stomach curled around itself as Gamble paused to take a breath.

  “Got the accounts manager locked up for the night. Of course, he’ll be out on bail in the morning.”

  “Judge Hicks won’t give him some slap on the wrist when the time comes,” Walker said. “He’s fair, but he’s tough, too.”

  Gamble nodded then turned his attention to Ashley. “Kostya said you had to make a hard stop. That how you hurt your leg?”

  “It irritated an old injury.” Moving deeper into the shadows, she lowered the truck’s tailgate and pulled out her forensic case and the body bag. From the side pocket of the case, she removed a business card and handed it to the Sheriff. “I’ll type up my witness statement. Have someone let me know where to send it.”

  “Hold up,” Walker warned. “You can’t head downhill without cover. We might have missed a tree.”

  Returning to the cab, he pulled out the hard hats they had worn earlier and handed her one then fished under his seat.

  “You also need a—”

  She flicked her flashlight at him. Realizing he should have known better, Walker chuckled. Ashley’s case was expertly crammed with everything she needed for her job and enough food in the form of protein bars to help her survive several days if anything bad happened. She also had several different means of starting a fire and just as many ways of capturing and filtering water—some Walker had never thought of.

  A gun on her hip, handcuffs at the ready and a survival pack that would make a prepper green with envy, he mused, realizing he had never had a “type” before because he had never encountered Ashley Callahan until today.

  “You really need to talk to me tonight?” he asked the Sheriff.

  “No,” Gamble admitted. “I just wanted to satisfy myself that the roadblock was properly set up and the five identified trees were taken down.”

  “Yeah, shame you couldn’t inspect them before that, but some fool will try to go around the signs. Kostya said he took plenty of pictures first.”

  Gamble nodded.

  “Well,” Walker smiled and tossed the keys to his truck at Kostya. “I’ll either be back in a few minutes or I won’t.”

  Turning to Ashley, the grin faltered. The twitch at the right corner of her mouth suggested the woman was still irritated over Gamble’s original remarks and smirk. Walker had to tread carefully, but he didn’t want her walking down the hill loaded with the case and animal while her bad leg acted up. And he didn’t want her returning to Billings in the dark.

  “Thought we could discuss where you’re sleeping tonight.”

  Seeing her gaze widen and the soft lips part in surprise, Walker knew he had just dug himself a mighty deep hole he needed to quickly haul his dumb butt out of.

  “My mother used to put Deacon up when he got stuck in these parts too late in the day,” he hastily explained. “No hotels in Willow Gap and I figured you might need to head back to the park tomorrow. We even have a freezer we kept running for Deacon.”

  Walker started breathing again when Ashle
y’s face mellowed into something that didn’t look like she was ready to throttle him.

  “I’d appreciate that,” she answered. “Deacon wasn’t able to…”

  “Yeah,” Walker said. “We’ve all been praying that he’ll recover from the stroke. But his wife said it’s going to take time and therapy. He and I had a lot of interactions, maybe I can help fill in some details for you. At least how things are around these parts.”

  Again, miraculously, Ashley nodded. Walker swiped the back of his fingers across his lips to stop the smile struggling to break free.

  “It’s settled then,” he said, nodding at Kostya. “Let Sam drive the crew truck and you drop mine off at my mother’s. Sam can follow you and take you the rest of the way home.”

  “Sure thing, boss.”

  Walker took the carcass and flashlight from Ashley and nodded goodbye to the men. Leading the way downhill, he picked out the easiest path he could find in the dark with the help of the wide beam.

  “You don’t have security on the machines?” she asked as he waited for her to catch up with him.

  “Sure I do.” Switching the flashlight to his other hand, he reached out and slid the case off her shoulder and onto his so that he was carrying both the fox and her kit. “We set up cameras. They managed to take out almost all of them. What was left didn’t show anything.”

  Reaching a rock ledge, he stopped and let the light’s beam play along the ground ahead of them. He already had his route picked, but he knew going down would be a lot harder for her leg than a level path. As he hoped, she took a seat on the ledge while he continued stalling.

  “I put another set up all by myself after everyone left and made sure to camouflage them.” The words rumbled in his chest, the day’s frustration rising up as if he was experiencing the tree falling all over again, his heart stopping when he heard the screech of tires. “Of course, I had the cameras pointed at the equipment. The trees were sabotaged lower down the hill.”

  “I see,” Ashley murmured, the soft, contemplative tone turning his insides into mush. “How long are you going to pretend you’re still selecting our path down?”