With a teeth-jarring thud, the left front wheel of Lily Davenport’s BMW coupe dropped into a pothole the size of the Grand Canyon. Emitting an ominous groan that sounded unsettlingly human, the little two-seater convertible bounced out the other side of the chasm and promptly stalled.
“Damn it,” Lily muttered, shifting into park to restart the engine. She pushed the ignition button and, in the heart-stopping second of silence, feared her vehicle might refuse to go, in protest over its recent maltreatment. Not that she could blame it. If she was a car, she’d refuse to go any farther on this hellacious path—it could hardly be called a road, considering it was barely wider than the BMW—too. When the engine turned over, she whispered a thank-you and eased forward a few feet, trying to avoid the tree branches that jutted out over the rutted trail, and waited to see if anything vital fell off the undercarriage or exploded beneath the hood.
Despite her open windows, the bit of breeze managing to make its way through the dense underbrush and towering pines offered no match for the early June sunshine, and the inside of the car already resembled an oven. Lily powered down the roof—that was still working—and stared at the hood, waiting for steam or smoke or something equally menacing to seep out.
Why hadn’t she listened when Sarah had suggested she might want to lease a Jeep or some other four-wheel-drive vehicle for the summer? Better question—why hadn’t Sarah told her that the way up to the lodge, described as a three-season access road—maybe in retrospect she should have asked Sarah what that meant—was really little more than a goat path? Or maybe that should be deer path or…some other creature’s path. Road was being overly generous.
When the engine continued ticking and nothing appeared to be burning or leaking or otherwise malfunctioning, Lily pushed her sunglasses up into her hair and squinted at the nav screen. She loved the little car for its easy maneuverability in the city and speed on the rare occasions she had a chance to get out of the city, but the dash was a bit cramped, and reading the map function on the small screen was a challenge at the best of times. At the moment, the monitor showed only a generic regional geographic overview. Thank you, Google, but not helpful when surrounded by forest. Apparently uninhabited forest.
She must be on the wrong nonroad.
Mentally reviewing her drive, Lily determined that, at least five miles and what felt like five hours before, she’d been on the right route. She must have turned off the twisting road circling the shore of Lake George too soon. Turning around was presently out of the question. Literally. She wasn’t about to risk a ten-point turn and end up putting the rear of her Z4 into a ditch and walking back to civilization.
All she needed to do was slow down and try to avoid any more unexpected road hazards until she found a place to around-turn. Or if she was incredibly lucky—which would be an anomaly—she might actually find the lodge. She hadn’t passed a building or another vehicle or any sign of life, human or otherwise, since she’d left the highway and headed off into the Adirondacks.
When all her gauges remained blessedly in the midzone, suggesting she hadn’t done irreparable damage to her automobile, she set off once again. Sweat trickled at her temples and misted the back of her neck. She settled her sunglasses into place and squinted into the early morning glare. She’d made excellent time driving north from the city, but that had been open Thruway driving, and at five in the morning, she’d been able to avoid speed traps with the aid of her radar. What should have been the shortest part of her journey was turning out to be the most arduous. Hopefully not a portent for what was to come. Giving up on the GPS, she trusted to fate and continued deeper into the densely packed evergreens.
She swung around a blind corner, hoping the camp would come into sight any moment or she would at least see a sign saying Turn Around Here You Idiot, and slammed on her brakes.
“Oh!” Heart pounding, arms braced against the wheel, she stared at the front end of the vehicle she’d nearly hit. And blinked. Not a mirage. An army-green Jeep with the roof removed and a single occupant in olive-green fatigues sat a foot off her front bumper.
Wonderful. She was alone in the mountains faced with a survivalist, or worse, some private militia playing soldier. She didn’t even have cell service. She ordered herself to take a breath. Panic was not her usual response to a crisis—at least it hadn’t been, before…
The faint haze that curtained Lily’s vision cleared as her pulse slowed, and she got a clearer look at the figure climbing down from the Jeep. The sun was behind them, and in the glare, Lily had a hard time distinguishing the fine details. She could make out that the person striding around the front of her car, headed for the driver’s side, was a woman. From her lower vantage point and limited vision, Lily registered tall-ish, lean-ish, in a short-sleeved uniform shirt—nicely defined arms—and matching pants, and yes indeed, a utility belt with a holstered pistol or whatever they were called, along with other paraphernalia.
“Morning,” the woman said as she halted by the side of Lily’s car, a question in her voice. She wore aviator-style sunglasses…how appropriate, which hid most of her face. Her mouth was sculpted and full above a squared-off chin and angular jaw. Imposing was a good word for the impression she created.
A yellow patch on her sleeve indicated she was a member of some kind of organization, but with the sun in Lily’s face and her perception still reeling, Lily couldn’t identify what branch.
“Who are you?” Lily asked, sounding more abrupt than she intended. The unexpected appearance of the Jeep and its occupant and the surreal isolation of the dense forestland left her mildly disoriented.
“Department of Environmental Conservation,” the woman replied in an alto timbre. “Do you know where you are?”
The question of the hour. Lily almost laughed, although the last thing she felt was humor. She didn’t intend to admit she’d been asking herself the same question. Somehow the probably innocent implication that she might be lost rankled. Lost seemed one step away from incompetent, and she’d just driven five hours to the far end of civilization to escape that oppressive, soul-draining sensation. “No. I mean. Yes, of course. Generally speaking.”
“I see.”
Lily couldn’t remember if DEC officers were actually law enforcement agents or not. She thought so, but she wasn’t sure what laws they actually enforced. Probably not vehicular ones. Not that she could be speeding on this gods-forsaken, bare excuse for a road, but still. “Is there a problem?”
“We don’t see many sightseers out this way.”
Lily bristled, certain she caught a faint hint of amusement. “I’m not sightseeing, and believe me if that was my intention, it would not be here. I have permission to be here.”
“It’s public land, Ms.…?” The officer, or ranger, or warden, or whatever the proper term was, removed her sunglasses, and a dark brow lifted over ridiculously blue eyes. Lily had no trouble seeing that, or the rest of the very handsome face that went along with them. Younger than she’d thought—twenty-five or six perhaps.
“Davenport,” Lily said. “Lily Davenport.”
“So, Ms. Davenport, where are you headed?”
“Nowhere, with you in the way.”
The ranger laughed. A nice laugh, as if that was the tone she saved for friends. Lily flushed at the visceral surge of warmth. Where had that been hiding all these months? And what a bad time to resurface.
“I’ll move unless we have to get you turned around. Mind telling me where you’re going?”
“Thunder Ridge Lodge.”
“In this vehicle?”
This time the incredulity was unmistakable.
Lily’s chin came up. “Do you have something against convertibles?”
“Not in a general sense, but they’re not a good choice for whatever you’re doing out here.”
The hint of a smile lifted the corner of her full mouth, and for half a second, Lily thought she was quite attractive. Irritation chased that thought away quickly enough. Really, she needed condescension and a little bit of arrogance at this point? Not when she was hot, thirsty, and quite possibly on the wrong road. Not lost—simply…misdirected.
“You’re sure about where you’re headed?” This time the ranger’s tone held genuine surprise. “There’s a Thunderbird Lodge off Route Nine another ten miles north of Bolton Landing. Could that be it?”
“I’m quite certain.” Lily decided that pride wasn’t her best choice at the moment. “Am I on the right…path?”
“You are. You’ve got a bit of a climb for another mile or so, but if you take it slow, you ought to be all right.”
“Wonderful,” Lily said, unaccountably relieved. “Um. How do we…” She waved a hand at the Jeep blocking her way.
“I’ll back up. There’s a spot a few hundred yards back around the next bend where I can pull over. You’re sure you want to keep going?”
“Of course,” Lily said, wondering, not for the first time, if her decision to leave her apartment, her job, and just about everything else behind for a chance to figure out what it was she really wanted to do with her life was as crazy as everyone thought it was.
* * *
Chase put the Jeep in gear and backed slowly uphill and around the curve until she could pull partway off the track, leaving enough room for the Beemer to get by. A minute later the slick little convertible appeared, and Lily Davenport edged past her with a tight nod and continued her slow pace up the mountain toward Thunder Ridge.
Chase shook her head as she continued down the mountain. Lily Davenport was only the first of hundreds of tourists she’d assist in some fashion over the coming months. The season was just starting, and soon the mountains would be filled with civilians—most of whom had little to no forest lore—who flocked to the wilderness intent on camping, hiking, visiting their entitled offspring at camps like Thunder Ridge, or in some cases, engaging in illegal activity. Lily Davenport, in her hundred-thousand-dollar sports car, was probably on her way to interview the staff at Thunder Ridge before foisting her son or daughter off on the counselors for the summer.
Chase shuddered at the thought of being responsible for nearly fifty teenagers of mixed sexes for a day, let alone a summer. Wrangling a bunch of horny, rambunctious, and frequently rebellious teens from one event to another around the clock was her idea of a nightmare. At least most of the counselors had been resident campers themselves once and had volunteered to come back to supervise the latest crop of summer enrollees. Chase couldn’t imagine a worse way to spend the summer. Fortunately, she’d be too busy before long to worry about the goings-on at the lodge.
What was vacation time for most people, the late spring into fall, was the busiest time of the year for her. Her duties as a DEC law enforcement officer included not just enforcing the many state and federal environmental regulations but also the local fishing and hunting laws, and investigating crimes associated with those activities in the Adirondack forest. Patrolling her district, a region hundreds of square miles in area, kept her in the Jeep, on foot, or occasionally on horseback eighteen hours a day. She loved every minute of it, even though it hadn’t been her plan five years before. Of course, back then, she hadn’t thought she needed to make plans.
She wouldn’t have time to think about Thunder Ridge beyond her one obligatory introductory session with the campers to review the rules and regulations surrounding hiking and campfire use in the parkland. She likely wouldn’t see any of them again unless one of the more adventurous residents managed to get lost.
“Which at least one of them probably will,” she muttered, maneuvering the Jeep onto a rocky shoulder off the road. Once parked, she walked down a narrow deer trail to the edge of Cutler Pond to check for signs of illegal fishing. The department had just stocked the lake with trout, and fishing was prohibited until the season started. That didn’t keep some anglers from trying for an early catch. Just the morning before she’d issued two citations to a couple of people taking trout illegally. As she scanned the opposite shoreline with binocs, she wondered if Lily Davenport would be one of those helicopter parents who insisted on meeting with her to confirm she was actually qualified to protect their offspring. Funny, the idea of running into her again wasn’t all that unpleasant.
The lake looked quiet, and Chase smiled as she climbed back to the Jeep, thinking about her recent encounter with the attractive blonde. Under other circumstances Lily would have been just her type—assuming Lily’s tastes ran to women. Self-assured, quick-witted with a hint of a temper—not always a bad thing—and definitely hot. Even the brief glance she’d gotten of Lily in the car was enough to put her into that category.
Chase started the engine and sighed. There wouldn’t be time for that kind of pursuit soon either, and even if there was, Lily Davenport would be long gone. With a rueful shake of her head, she pulled her radio off the dash to check in.
“Fielder, calling in.”
Lieutenant Natalie Evans, her regional supervisor, came back quickly. “Hey, Chase. How’s the morning looking?”
“Pretty quiet right now. Cutler Pond is clear this morning.”
Natalie chuckled. “Give it a day.”
“Yup. I plan a swing-by on my regular tour.”
“Good idea. Listen, I need you up at the lodge this morning. Can you make it at nine?”
“I’m just headed out from that area. I was planning to cut over to check the hiking trails around Third Lake. With the rain we’ve had, we may need to put them off-limits for the coming weekend.” Chase frowned. Why the lodge? She flashed on the image of Lily Davenport’s BMW headed up the mountain. Hell. Had Lily had an accident? Maybe she should have followed her up. Her chest tightened. “Is there some problem?”
“Not what I’d call a problem, but we need a meeting with Sarah.”
“You’re the boss.” Chase let out a breath. Not an emergency, then. Nothing to do with Lily. “I can still make it out to Third, check the trails, and be back just about ten or a little after. That work for you?”
“Should be fine. See you then.”
“Roger that,” Chase muttered.
She tried to stay clear of the lodge as much as she could during the summer. Something about the residents brought back memories that seemed a lifetime ago now, of the unfettered freedom to spend every single day in the high peaks, thrilling to the challenges, and never once taking it for granted. Although maybe she had, thinking back. At least she’d taken her place in the greater scheme of things for granted. Maybe now she just envied the kids at the lodge their unlimited view of their futures, as if they could do anything and would.
With a mental curse, she shook free of the anger that still caught her by surprise and took a deep breath of the sweetest air in the world. She let it out along with her ghosts.
Maybe a trip up to the lodge wasn’t such a bad idea. Maybe she’d run into Lily. A telltale flare of interest hit her, and she enjoyed the sensation despite the impossibility. Lily was undoubtedly exactly as she’d seemed. A wealthy parent, out of her depth in the mountains but a little too arrogant to admit it. Chase snorted. Not a few people had mentioned that being a little too overconfident might have been a wee problem of hers back in the day. Not so much any longer. Hell, she’d paid the price, after all.
She sighed and let the image of Lily Davenport fade. Fantasies weren’t really her thing, and she wouldn’t have time for much more than that until September.