Delilah woke just past dawn the next morning, disoriented. She raised up on her elbows and looked around. Tiny windows, built-in cabinet, small television mounted to the wall. The Tanners’ camper. Got it.
She’d slept better last night than she had in a very long time, which surprised her. After that epic faux pas, she’d expected to stay awake, obsessing and replaying the embarrassing scene. Maybe the exhaustion of the past week had caught up to her, or maybe it was knowing Josh was nearby.
As she slid out of bed, she decided she’d pretend nothing had happened. After a quick stop in the bathroom to get dressed, she tiptoed into the kitchen and quietly searched the cabinets, looking for coffee.
“I’m up. No need to be quiet.”
Delilah spun to find him lying on the couch, the blanket low on his hips, bare chest and washboard abs on display. He had one arm tucked behind his head, and between that and the low rumble of his voice, her mouth went dry. Be still my heart. “I, ah, thought you were sleeping in the bunks.”
The camper had one bedroom plus a built-in set of bunks at the other end. “I had planned to. But I fell asleep before I made it that far.” He tossed the blanket aside and stood, and Delilah swallowed hard at the sight of him wearing nothing but a pair of blue plaid boxers. Boxers that were tented in front, she noticed.
“You sleep okay?” he asked.
It took a moment for his question to register, and when her gaze slid up to his face, his twinkling eyes said he’d caught her staring.
“Ah, yes. Thanks. You?”
“As well as could be expected. Considering.”
She stiffened. “Considering what?” Her hands fisted on her hips.
“Considering my feet hang off the end of the sofa and the cushions are lumpy.” He cocked one eyebrow. “What did you think I meant?”
Oh, she so wasn’t going there. As he walked by, he chuckled as he cupped her shoulders and kissed the top of her head.
She had toast going, coffee ready, and was whipping a few eggs by the time he reemerged, fully clothed, the spicy scent of whatever soap or aftershave he used drifting in his wake. He reached around her for a mug, purposefully crowding her, and poured coffee.
She looked over her shoulder, and their eyes met, his lit with a teasing glint. “Cut it out,” she warned, carefully pouring the egg mixture into the frying pan. The man was making her crazy. She let out a sigh of relief when his cell phone rang.
“Tanner.” He glanced at the clock. “We can be there in about thirty minutes. 10-4. See you then.” He set the phone on the counter. “That was Hunter. He’s got some new information.”
Delilah scrambled the eggs while he sent a few emails. Then, while he did dishes, she put on her wig, reminding her reflection to quit thinking about Josh’s gorgeous body and focus on finding her sister.
* * *
As Josh drove toward Tanner’s Outpost, he searched for a way to dispel the lingering awkwardness. He’d tried teasing Delilah, but that hadn’t worked, especially since his first thought was to yank her into his arms for a repeat of last night. Just thinking about it had kept him up far too late—and had woken him up hard as a rock this morning.
But that was his problem and one he needed to deal with. Fast. Though he was technically “on vacation,” he was still an FWC officer. And she was still tied to a current case.
“I’m not staying.”
She hadn’t meant to say that aloud, given her shocked expression, but the reminder had knocked him upside the head. He didn’t do casual sex or halfway relationships, and he was pretty sure she didn’t either. If he was in, he was all in. Which meant he shouldn’t start something with a woman who’d be leaving in a week or two. That was just stupid. He wasn’t looking for more heartache, thanks very much. He still had the scars Elaine left behind.
When they reached Charlee’s cottage, Delilah pulled a ball cap over the blond wig she’d braided on the drive and added glasses, ready to hop out of the truck.
“Look, Delilah. About last night—”
She aimed an impersonal smile over her shoulder. “We should get in there.”
Guess she didn’t want to talk about it.
He kissed Charlee’s cheek, and they joined the squad in her small living room. Pete, in his green sheriff’s deputy uniform, stood off to one side in a heated discussion with Fish, who was dressed in FWC khaki. He towered over her, but that didn’t stop her from propping her hands on her hips and giving attitude right back. Josh’s eyes met Hunter’s, and the other man rolled his eyes. Pete and Fish were like oil and water, forever arguing about something.
“Did Byte get anything from Delilah’s pics?” Josh asked.
Hunter shook his head as he scrolled through the photos. “These guys were really careful. He’s hoping to enhance the images enough for facial rec, but…” He shrugged. “I did find the meeting place, though. Good directions, Hollywood, and Pete had the sheriff’s techs take tire impressions and search for any other evidence. They’re also combing databases for folks with militia leanings, any mention of an alliance, and comparing notes with Byte.”
Sanchez leaned against the wall. “Want me to check for trail cameras in the area? They wouldn’t have met there if one was nearby, but maybe they passed one on the way in or out. Might give us a license plate or the make and model of a truck or two.”
“Good plan. Thanks, Sanchez.” He turned to the others. “Byte also compared Billy’s boot print to the one near Black’s body, and they’re a match.”
Fish spoke from where she’d plopped on the couch. “Do we know yet where he got the boots?”
“I spoke with Billy’s mother just before you arrived,” Hunter said. “She claims she got them from her sister, who cleans house for none other than our favorite county commissioner, Dwight Benson.”
Pete sat in the armchair across from Fish. “I’ll head downtown and have a chat with him as soon as we’re done here.”
“Thanks, Pete,” Hunter said. “Keep me posted.”
“Of course.” He shot a grin around the room. “Let’s hope he confesses nice and easy-like and we can call the Black case cleared.”
Everyone laughed, because things only wrapped up that neatly on television. Real-life investigations were usually a lot more tedious, less cut-and-dried, and not nearly as exciting.
“I have one more interesting piece of information.” Hunter tapped more keys on his laptop. “Byte put a notification on Black’s email to see who was still sending him messages. This just came in, mentions an informal meet-up for possible militia joiners. Tonight.” He turned the laptop around so they could read the short message.
“Can Byte trace the IP address?” Sanchez asked.
“Already working on it,” Hunter said.
“We can put our cover to the test,” Josh said, excitement building. “We’ll show up, introduce ourselves, see what we can find out.” If a group planned an armed protest, law enforcement would show up in force, armed and ready. But an informal gathering? Perfectly legal—and often a great source of information.
“I’ll be nearby, keeping an eye on you both,” Hunter said.
Josh was shaking his head before Hunter finished speaking. “If they suspect someone is watching, our cover is toast. You’ll have to stay a good distance away.”
Hunter crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow. “You figure this is my first day on the job, Hollywood?”
Josh debated how to respond. The fact that Hunter had gotten the promotion Josh thought was his still grated like a burr under his saddle. But that was his issue and not part of this. “My priority is to keep Delilah safe.”
“Then you work on that and let me work my end.” He waited a beat, then picked up an FWC mug and held it aloft. “Before we head out, it’s time for the monkey suit lottery.”
The men groaned.
“At least you guys get to take turns,” Fish complained. “It’s always my turn.”
“That’s only because I look terrible in a dress,” Josh quipped, batting his eyelashes.
Delilah laughed with the rest of them but still looked confused.
“Every year, FWC sends two officers to the Mayor’s Ball to do meet-and-greet duty while the rest of the squad provides security,” Charlee said. “Fish gets to wear a gorgeous dress, but she has to go with one of these lunkheads.”
Hunter held the mug out to Delilah. “Draw a name, and let’s see who this year’s monkey suit winner is.”
She pulled out one of the folded pieces of paper and handed it to Hunter.
“And the winner is…”
Sanchez tapped his palms on the table in a drum roll.
“Josh.” The minute Hunter read the name, Pete and Sanchez high-fived, and Josh groaned.
“Right back at you,” Fish said, laughing.
Josh’s gaze flicked to Delilah and saw her eyeing Fish speculatively. Was that a flash of jealousy he spotted?
“In case you didn’t read the memo I forwarded last week,” Hunter continued, and there were more groans, “Dwight Benson is scheduled to be the MC for this year’s ball, which will give us a chance to keep a close eye on him. That’s all for now.”
A timer rang in the kitchen.
“If you ask nicely, I’ll let you have a treat before you go,” Charlee said.
The squad practically stampeded for the kitchen.
“Do I smell cupcakes?” Josh asked, sniffing the air as he entered.
Charlee grinned. “Or cookies. You’d think you’d know the difference by now.”
He poured coffee, saluted her with his cup. “I don’t care what it is, Sis. If you’re baking, I want some. Pretty please.”
A chorus of “hear, hear” came from around the room.
While Charlee pulled a tray of cookies from the oven, Hunter set a plastic bag on the table in front of Delilah. If Josh hadn’t been watching, he would’ve missed the way her eyes widened and she sucked in a quick breath before all emotion disappeared from her face.
“We found this in the woods just beyond your camper. Do you know who it belongs to?” Hunter asked.
All the color leached out of her face. “It’s a common enough logo, especially around here.” The silence lengthened, and then she said, “My brother was wearing one like that the last time I saw him. But it doesn’t prove he burned down my camper,” she added.
“You’re right. It doesn’t. But we do have some questions for him. Had he come to visit you?”
Her chin came up. “No. I’ve been trying to track him down.”
She looked outwardly calm, but Josh had seen the flash of worry, so he said, “I’ll see if I can find him. See what he has to say for himself.”
Hunter raised a brow. “Since you’re on ‘vacation’”—he made air quotes—“Hollywood, we’ll go together.”
“I’m coming with you,” Delilah said.
Both Josh and Hunter said no at the same time.
“He’s my brother.”
“And he may very well have tried to kill you.” When she opened her mouth to argue, Josh continued, “Right now, your biggest protection is the fact that he thinks you’re dead.”
Tension crackled in the air as they stared at each other, but Josh wouldn’t back down. Not on this. Delilah scanned the room, and he knew everyone wore the same implacable expression. Finally, her eyes came back to him.
“All right. I’m going to the Saturday market downtown, then. Mama and Mrs. Fenton sometimes set up there on the off weeks from the regular farmers market. I’ll go in disguise and see if I can find out where Mary is or what’s going on.”
“I have a change of clothes in the car,” Fish said. “We’ll stroll around as two friends out shopping on a Saturday morning.”
“I love the Saturday market,” Charlee said as she transferred cookies to the cooling rack. “I’ll go with you.”
“Don’t you have a kayak tour in a little while?” Hunter asked.
Charlee huffed out a breath as she turned off the oven. “Yes, dang it. I forgot about that.”
“Sorry, cher,” Hunter said. He sent a text to update the captain, closed his laptop, and kissed Charlee soundly on the mouth. “Let’s do this. Be safe out there, everybody.”
* * *
Fish pulled up to the grassy parking area in Mrs. Tanner’s nondescript sedan. It wouldn’t do to show up in either an FWC truck or Delilah’s vehicle. Both women wore long cotton skirts and long-sleeved blouses. They had traded ball caps for big floppy hats and wore sunglasses to hide their eyes. Delilah had no doubt Mama would recognize her, but she worried how she would react. Maybe she should wait until tomorrow, when Kimberly would keep them safe from prying eyes.
“Easy, girl,” Fish whispered. “No one will recognize you.”
Delilah didn’t argue, just pulled down the brim of her floppy hat and marched off toward the produce section. “There’s a vendor just inside who sells recyclable bags. We should grab a few to put produce in.”
Fish hurried to keep up, eyeing the change in Delilah’s demeanor. “You sure you don’t want to join FWC? You’re a natural at this undercover stuff.”
“I’ve just learned to blend in over the years.” It was a survival skill she’d learned early.
“Then lead on. This is your turf, not mine.”
They purchased bags, then wandered up and down the rows, chatting with vendors as they scanned the area, looking for her mother’s booth.
Delilah bent down to inspect a basket of beefsteak tomatoes. “I don’t see Mama anywhere. But if Mrs. Fenton is here, she may know if Mama came today.”
Fish held up a fat tomato and nodded. “This looks about perfect, doesn’t it?”
Several minutes later, Delilah spotted Mrs. Fenton returning to her booth. She caught Fish’s eye and nodded to the empty space beside it.
“Hey, good morning,” Fish said. “I was kinda hoping to get some bread-and-butter pickles from the lady next to you. Atwood, I think her name is. She not here today?”
Mrs. Fenton smiled sadly. “Sorry, you just missed her. She already sold out.”
“Oh, she was here today? How long ago did she leave?”
A look of caution slid over the woman’s face. “I really couldn’t say. Why?”
Fish laughed as Delilah joined her. “Sorry. That came out sounding pretty stalker-ish. I just love those pickles, and I’ve been raving about them to my friend.” She nodded to Delilah. “I was hoping we could either buy several jars or place an order for next week.”
Mrs. Fenton’s caution melted into a sunny smile. “If you hurry, you might still be able to catch them. They just headed out a few minutes ago.” She indicated the vendor parking area off to one side.
“Can you tell me what kind of vehicle they’re in?” Fish asked, shading her eyes as she scanned the area.
The older woman shrugged. “Sorry. I was too busy setting up my booth to pay much attention.”
Delilah’s heart pounded. Did “them” mean Mama and Papa or Aaron? Or did it include Mary, too? She thanked Mrs. Fenton and started running, but Fish put a hand on her arm.
“Let’s not draw undue attention to ourselves.”
Delilah forced herself to slow down, but it was hard. Every instinct urged her to run full tilt lest she miss them. Once they reached the parking area, they searched for any vehicle that was occupied or loading up. There were quite a few. Some were leaving, while others were offloading more product.
Two rows over, a pickup started. Delilah’s eyes widened when she saw her father behind the wheel and two more people in the cab. One of them looked like her mother, which meant the other could very well be Mary. “That’s them!”
Delilah rushed between two trucks and smacked her shoulder on a side mirror as she ran, but she didn’t slow down. They were almost to the exit! She tried to flag them down, but before her arms were halfway up, Fish ran up behind her and yanked them down. “Don’t blow our cover,” she hissed in Delilah’s ear. Delilah struggled to free herself, but Fish was stronger than she looked. “We need to do this another way, Delilah, and you know it.”
She did know it, and her heart sank, defeated. They had been so close. She was almost positive Mary had been sitting between her parents.
“Let’s go back and talk to Mrs. Fenton. Maybe your sister left a note.”
“She’s never done that before, but even if she did, unless Mrs. Fenton knows it’s me, she’ll never hand it over.”
“Can you trust her?”
“I have no reason not to. I’ve been leaving cards and notes for Mary with her for years.”
“Then maybe today is your lucky day.”
Delilah didn’t feel particularly lucky, but she wasn’t giving up. When they reached Mrs. Fenton’s booth, they waited politely until the other customers left.
“Did you catch them?” Mrs. Fenton asked.
“Unfortunately, no, they were just pulling away as we got there.” Delilah leaned closer, “Mrs. Fenton, did Mary leave a note for me?”
Mrs. Fenton studied her face for a long moment and then her eyes widened. “I’ve heard blonds have more fun.”
Delilah smiled. “I’ve heard that, too. I’ll let you know if it’s true.” She paused. “Please, Mrs. Fenton. It’s important.”
The woman looked both ways to be sure no one was watching, then reached under the table and pulled out a small envelope. She passed it to Delilah with a basket of cucumbers and whispered, “She was hoping you’d come.”
Her heart pounded with anticipation as she paid, then stashed everything in her bag. “Thank you, Mrs. Fenton.”
She patted Delilah’s hand. “She’s a lovely girl. I hope you two are able to connect.”
Delilah and Fish didn’t speak as they hurried back to Mrs. Tanner’s sedan. Once inside, she pulled out the envelope and relief flooded her at Mary’s familiar, looping handwriting. “It doesn’t say much. ‘Tomorrow after church, our favorite spot. Please come.’”
Fish sent her a quick grin. “It may not be a lot of words, but it tells us everything we need to know.”
The hard knot of worry inside Delilah loosened slightly as the words sank in. Mary believed Delilah was looking for her and had just told her where she could be found. This was exactly what she’d been hoping and longing for. If all went according to plan, she’d have Mary safely with her tomorrow.