Chapter 1

Tonight wasn’t the first night Dakota had spent alone in the woods. Last time had been years ago, long enough she’d almost convinced herself she didn’t remember.

She hadn’t forgotten the cold, though. The way her ears numbed because she’d pulled her dark hair back in a ponytail. Then and now.

Tucked in her pocket, Dakota’s phone vibrated. She lifted a hand and used her slender fingers to answer the call on Bluetooth headphones.

“Pierce.” Her quiet voice sounded far too loud in the stillness of after midnight.

“Here I thought you might be doing something interesting this late on a Friday night for once.” The director’s voice was void of any kind of tone. She never gave anything away. “And yet, when I locate your phone it seems that you’re sitting on the side of a mountain, fifteen miles from the Canadian border.”

Dakota said nothing.

“It’s thirty-eight degrees. It’ll get to twenty-seven by morning.”

She let her eyes drift across the tops of the trees in the valley below. The fence that bordered the apple orchard, along with a dusting of snow.

Director Bramlyn sighed. “I suppose it was too much to assume you’d wait until Monday. Look into this then—in the company of one of your team members. You know, the three people who are supposed to have your back.”

She didn’t include herself in that count. Just the two other agents on the team, and their tech person. The director’s support came in a different way that was no less effective.

Dakota said, “Case’ll be closed by then.”

“You found something?”

“Not yet,” Dakota replied. All they had so far was chatter that’d been picked up. Movement from here to the border. A park ranger who’d been paid off, then disappeared. The local sheriff was next on her list of people to track down. Hopefully he’d still be breathing when she found him.

“Keep me apprised.”

“Will do.” Dakota pressed her lips together. “And I’ll call Special Agent O’Caran if I need some help.”

“I guess I can’t argue with that.” The director sighed.

Needing help had different definitions for different people. Dakota knew how to spend a night in the woods by herself. Predators came in all shapes and sizes, and she hadn’t met one yet that she couldn’t handle with the knife or one of the two guns she carried. Occasionally she only had to utilize a well-placed knee to subdue an aggressor.

“So long as you actually do lean on the resources available to you when you need them,” the director said. “After all, it’s why I pay my taxes.”

The corner of Dakota’s mouth crept up. “I thought you had some under-the-table deal so you don’t have to pay in.”

“I wish.” Victoria laughed. The director sounded like a classy matron—minus the British accent—from one of the TV shows Dakota would never let on to the team that she actually watched. She sighed. “Are you sure you’re good?”

She was really worried? Dakota said, “My nose is cold and I think one of my feet went to sleep.”

“Don’t freeze to death,” Victoria said. “We’ll have to hike in there and carry you out.”

“Nah, just leave me for the animals.”

Victoria choked. “For goodness sake, just be careful.”

Dakota said, “You know I will.” Her capability wasn’t in question. Victoria knew her history—all of it. That was the deal they’d struck when Dakota came on board. Neither of them wanted secrets. She also had no intention of being babied just because Victoria didn’t want this place to mess with her head. So she said, “I’m good.”

“Try to at least sound convincing when you say stuff like that.”

“I always sound convincing.”

“Maybe to all the other people you lie to.” But not Victoria.

“Just…mark me down as camping for the weekend, or something.”

“Did you even take a tent with you?”

Dakota waited a second, then said, “I think my phone battery is dying.” She even reached up and touched the mute button a couple of times, and said a few random words so it sounded like she was cutting out.

“If you don’t call me in twelve hours, I will send the entire team with backup from the state police to look for you.”

Dakota lowered her hand. “Deal.”

Plenty of time for surveillance here. If nothing happened she would pay the sheriff a visit. Flash her badge and watch him squirm.

They all squirmed.

“I’m going to regret this.” Victoria sighed, and the call ended.

A rustle in the brush to her left cut through the silence. Dakota blew out a breath, slow enough that there was no cloud of white. She shifted her weight and lifted her left foot, rotating the ankle. It clicked every time. Had ever since…

She didn’t finish that thought.

The past was something she didn’t remember. And whether that meant she’d strived to forget, or was still convincing herself she didn’t remember, the outcome was the same. Dakota was alive now. That was all that mattered.

Grass under her feet. Cold night air in her lungs. Mountains behind her, and the lights of civilization in the distance.

One eye on the rustling brush, Dakota lowered her foot back down. Her gun hand was free, but she didn’t reach for the weapon holstered under her arm. Her other hand held a thin flashlight not much larger than a pen, her thumb steady on the button so she could turn it on when needed.

Dakota crept between trees, as silent as the night. She made her way down the slope toward the orchard, where rows of apple trees lined the outermost field. The property was huge, the house a hundred acres to the west of where she stood, over the slope. Chatter had specifically mentioned the road that led to this end of the outfit.

Movement accompanied a low rustle. Dakota froze, her right shoulder and hip pressed against a tree trunk.

A dog raced between apple trees, nose to the ground. One of those police dog types, black and brown coloring. It even had a vest on. No markings, though. There was little as far as a breeze tonight, but she had no idea if she was upwind or downwind of the animal. The last thing she needed was to be scented.

Twenty feet behind the dog, a man followed in a half-run. Tracking with the dog’s progress but giving it space. He moved like a man trained, his stance alert even with his focus on the animal. Military maybe, or some kind of federal agency.

There wasn’t an operation here tonight. If there had been, Victoria would have passed that information on. Most of the time the exchange of information between federal agencies worked. Not always. So she didn’t write this off as random.

Dakota tracked their progress as she made her way to the base of the hill and hopped the fence. She skirted the edge of the orchard, making sure she stayed out of the way.

Was this one of them? The man and his dog seemed like they were looking for something, but it was possible this guy was a scout and whoever had sparked the chatter about a new “weapon” moving through here intended to show up.

Fifty feet to the west she stopped.

Where was…

“Following me?” The man’s voice was low. Not deadly. She knew what that sounded like. This had a ring of authority but without a layer of intent to do her harm.

Like she was the one who shouldn’t be here.

Dakota reached for her weapon. She heard the unmistakable snick of a gun being drawn from its holster and froze.

“Drop what you’re holding and put your hands up.”

 

 

. . .

 

What was probably a flashlight dropped to the dirt. The woman lifted her gloved hands. She’d been reaching for something, he just didn’t know what. Josh heard the familiar sound of Neema’s panting as she padded closer to his left leg. They were a team, and the dog was an asset—considering she’d realized someone else was there before Josh had.

Who was this woman?

Josh clicked on his flashlight. “Turn around slowly.”

As she turned, he shone the light on the darkest of brown hair, almost black, that hung down to the middle of her back. Her mouth was set at an unhappy slant. The frown that marred her features drew her dark eyebrows together. With the lack of light, her eyes looked as black as her hair. Her skin was smooth and flawless.

She quite literally took his breath away. The sight of her distracted him enough that he forgot what he was doing for a second.

“You wanna get that light out of my face?” The lift of her hands splayed her jacket wide enough he saw the gun in its holster.

“Tell me why you’re following me, and I will.”

“How about you tell me why you’re here.” She reacted like he was an annoyance, nothing more or less. Like she had as much right to be here as he did? Maybe more?

Josh said, “I show you mine, and you’ll show me yours?” before he thought it through.

She made a dismissive noise with her mouth. “Hardly.”

“Guess not, then. Sorry.” For politeness sake. “My mouth runs away from me sometimes.”

“I’m glad you have better control of your dog.”

His favorite subject. Josh smiled, though the woman couldn’t see it considering his light was in her face. He would’ve pet Neema’s head but he didn’t have a free hand, so he leaned his weight left. She braced her weight against his leg in response. Shared comfort, a united front. “This is Neema.”

“Okay.”

“Your enthusiasm is overwhelming.” Josh gave the command to release Neema, so she could move around if she wanted to. The woman’s body shifted. A small movement he thought might’ve been a start. Was she really nervous about his dog?

“She won’t bother you.”

Neema didn’t move to the side to do her business, though. She wandered toward the woman, and he could hear her nose working. The woman took a step back.

“Unless there’s a hot dog in your pocket.”

The woman chuckled, but it gave away her nervousness. She still held her hands up but stood motionless while the dog learned her scent.

“Neema, leave it.” Sure, he could’ve given the command a few seconds ago, but where was the fun in that? He might need his dog to know her smell. Neema turned away and wandered to the edge of where he could see her.

There was no reason why she couldn’t sniff around a little.

The woman held herself as though she was in complete control—apart from the fact she was uneasy around the dog. It was debatable, between Neema and the woman, as to who had more presence. The gun won out, though. Neema could be vicious, but she didn’t have weapons to utilize.

“So who are you?”

She shook her head, a slight movement. “Lower the flashlight, and I’ll show you my badge.”

So she was here in an official capacity. “All right.” He shifted it down and to the side while he tried to figure out what he was going to tell her. Caught red-handed in the middle of the night. Josh said, “Let’s see it.”

She reached back, which he allowed considering her gun was under one arm. A move like that always made him tense though. Anyone given the opportunity to reach for something out of sight could mean the difference between life and death in a second. He’d had far too much training to ever relax in a situation like this.

But she didn’t know what Neema was capable of.

The woman pulled out a leather wallet and flipped it open. Badge and ID. “Homeland Security.”

But she didn’t tell him her name.

“Nice to meet you.” He figured she might appreciate the irony in that. “On a case?”

“You could say that. You?”

“Something like that.” Ish. Okay, not really at all. This was his weekend off, but what he was doing here was his business and not the business of this stranger who hadn’t identified herself.

“What is your dog looking for?”

Josh glanced around to see where Neema had gone. When he didn’t find her, he called out, “Yellow!”

From his left, not far, Neema’s bark replied to him.

“Yellow?”

He shrugged once. “It just means bark. But no one else knows that except the two of us.” She raised her left brow. He gave an almost-smile. “And, well, now you. I use it like Marco Polo normally.” And if the dog kept looking for what he was here to find, then it saved him time.

The woman bent down and picked up her flashlight, which she slid into her jacket pocket. “Well, it was nice meeting you and all…”

She let that trail off. Josh got the feeling it wasn’t all that nice to meet him.

The woman continued, “But you’re going to have to tell me who you are, and what you’re doing here.” Her stance was loose. Still, he could see her readiness in the flex of her fingers. She could pull that gun in seconds, and he’d guess she was fast.

“I’m Josh,” he said. “Josh Weber.” He didn’t give more detail than that, since he wasn’t here in an official capacity. What he did with his free time was his business.

Would Neema find what they were looking for? He wanted the answer to be yes, but had to face the fact he might return home with no news at all. The lead that had pointed to this apple orchard was slim. Maggie might have only stuck around here long enough to post that selfie to Instagram. Or she could’ve been driving through on the way to somewhere else.

Maybe he would never find her.

Neema let out a bark. One short, sharp alert.

Josh broke from his conversation with the Homeland Security agent and raced between the rows of apple trees toward the source of the sound. On the way, he gave her the command to bark again.

The female agent chased him the whole way there. He heard the shuffle of her clothing and the intake of breath as she inhaled and wondered if she would tackle him. Or give up and shoot him in the back.

Neema sat beside a body, laid out on the grass. A trail of tire ruts stretched from the woman lying there and off to the northwest.

Josh pulled up short. His stomach sank, but he said, “Good girl,” and scratched Neema’s neck.

“Move the dog away from her.” The Homeland agent’s voice was sharp. She crouched beside the body. It was turned awkwardly so that one shoulder was up but her hips were flat on the ground. Face down. Arms spread. Hair wrapped around her head.

The woman agent shifted hair aside and touched the neck.

After a second of silence she glanced up at him, a dark look on her face. “She’s dead.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2

Dakota let out a sigh. She could feel the cold of the skin even with her gloves on.

A dead young woman was not the way she wanted to spend her weekend. Yes, she’d opted to come out here and do surveillance. But that didn’t mean she hadn’t expected to be on her couch on Sunday with her thick socks on, binge watching season five of her favorite show. With caramel popcorn.

She pulled her gun, stood up and turned in one move, then stepped toward the man. “Gun on the ground, hands on your head.”

His eyes flared. “I didn’t do this.”

Now that the flashlight wasn’t in her face, her eyes had adjusted. The guy was a pretty cute murderer, but still a murderer. Or at least involved in this somehow. She wasn’t going to quibble about his level of involvement. “Hands on your head,” she repeated.

“But—”

She cut him off. “Now.”

The dog barked, body braced in a forward lean that pointed her toward Dakota. Like she was about to lunge.

“You keep that animal back, and do as I said.” His hands were raised, one still holding the gun, but she didn’t like this inaction. Who was he?

He bent his knees and lowered the gun to the grass. “Okay. Fine.” When he stood he said, “But I didn’t do this. In fact—” He motioned to the dog, then the body. “—if that’s who I think it is, we’re here looking for her.”

“You knew this body would be here?”

“Not the way you think.” He sighed, palms out. She didn’t believe this man would be subdued, though. Not until he was in cuffs, which she hadn’t brought with her. He said, “Look…it’s complicated, okay?”

“Then explain it.” But not right now. Dakota shifted and had to pull off her glove so she could use her free hand to slide out her phone and dial Victoria’s number.

It rang once and then the director answered, her voice sharp through the earbud still in Dakota’s left ear. “You found something?”

“I’ll take you up on that offer now.” She wasn’t about to let this guy know she was out here alone with no backup. “I’ve got a body drop.”

“Anyone I know?”

“Unknown. She’s been strangled.” At her words, the man winced. “By the look of how she was dumped, I’d say tossed here. Killed somewhere else.”

“Give me an hour.”

Dakota wasn’t sure that was possible, unless the team was closer than she knew. Victoria was resourceful, though.

The director said, “I know a guy in Life Flight. If they’re not busy I’ll have the team in the chopper and at your location ASAP.”

“Copy that.”

“Forensics?”

“And I’ve got a witness.” One who was possibly a suspect.

Victoria said, “Who?”

Dakota watched him, giving back that intense study he was doing of her in equal measure. “Unknown. So far.”

He was going to tell her who he was, or they were going to have a big problem. Given all the people Victoria knew, and the number of people in the federal government who owed her a favor, they could collectively make this guy’s life a nightmare.

He must have seen something of her intent in her eyes, because his brows lifted. But he said nothing.

“Be careful.”

“Oh, I will.” Dakota let him make of her tone whatever he wanted.

Victoria hung up chuckling, though it sounded uneasy. Dakota put her phone back in her pocket and gave the man an assessing look. “Military?”

“At one point.”

“Tell me what your name is.” Not a question, a command. “Better yet, show me your wallet.”

He lifted his chin. “Driver’s license, or badge?” A clear challenge, but there was something there.

Was he on an operation? She couldn’t help but wonder if this guy was here in an official capacity. She waved to the body. “Friend of yours?”

That wince came again.

“Name.” She put every ounce of authority she possessed into it.

“Josh Weber, as I’ve already told you,” he said. “But I’d rather my name was left off the official Homeland Security report.”

Ah-ha. “Not supposed to be here?” Maybe she took a little too much satisfaction in that. This wasn’t a competition, and neither was the authority here in question. Obviously she was in charge. He just didn’t seem to have wholly recognized that yet. Or wasn’t willing to submit to it.

He shrugged and glanced over at his dog. No less alert than before, but not baring teeth at Dakota either.

“Why don’t you just tell me why, and I’ll see what I can do?” She could be nice. Sometimes.

He scratched at his hair. To buy time so he could figure out what to say? “Can I look at the body? See if it really is who I think it might be?”

She took a step back and to the side, so she’d be able to see whatever he did and still keep him in her sights. “Don’t touch anything. And don’t get too close.”

He crouched and bent to look at the woman’s face. “I’m going to pull out my phone.”

Dakota nodded.

He slid it from the front pocket of his jeans and swiped the screen. Despite the sweater and heavy jacket, he was probably as cold as she was and she wore gloves. When he’d swiped to what he wanted, he showed her the screen, a grim look on his face.

Dakota nodded again, still holding her gun in front. A loose aim on him. She’d drop him if he tried anything. “Why do you have a dead woman’s picture on your phone?”

“She’s my neighbor’s granddaughter. Her name is Maggie.” He paused for a second. “She’s nineteen.”

“Okay,” Dakota said. “I’ll tell the medical examiner when he shows up. Any idea of the last name?”

His frown was back. Almost like he’d given her some test she hadn’t studied for, and she’d failed. What was up with that? He said, “Detweiler.”

“Okay,” she repeated. Why choose a different word when the same one worked? It wasn’t redundant, it was efficient. “Now back up.”

“I want to lay my coat over her.”

“What? No.”

He straightened. “It’s respectful.”

“It’s also cold as all get out.” Dakota motioned to the dead young woman with a sweep of her hand. “She doesn’t need it.”

A car engine revved to Dakota’s left. Headlights cut across this field in the orchard. The dog let out one short, sharp bark. Like it wasn’t obvious to them all that someone was here?

Dakota glanced toward the truck, taking her attention off the man for just a second.

She heard the rustle and realized what he’d done.

Half expecting him to barrel into her, she shifted back. Fighting stance. Ready for whatever came. Then it registered that the sound grew quieter, now gone over the noise of that truck.

He was running away from her.

“Hey!”

She raced after him, mad at herself that he got a head start. Rookie mistake. One that grated against her. She wasn’t naïve, far from it. The admittedly cute murderer was going to have to face the consequences when she caught up with him.

At the truck?

He was getting picked up. That had to be it.

Dakota ducked between two trees, and with the dark, she missed the branch. Not because she was distracted by being angry at this guy, it was just the lack of light and the fact he’d ruined her night vision with that flashlight.

She slammed into it with the corner of her forehead and went down. Flat on her back.

Out cold.

 

 

. . .

 

 

Josh ran toward the truck. He skirted around to the left so he would come up on the passenger side. But not close. He had no intention of doing anything but observe. He was here to find out what had happened to Maggie. If it involved these people, then he needed to know. Like he needed to know if this truck was dark blue. The color of her boyfriend’s half ton rig.

Neema kept pace beside him. He ducked between two trees, and a branch whipped at his face. Ouch. The sting radiated across his cheek.

He glanced back to look for the Homeland agent. No one on his heels, and no sound of someone either. But that truck roared through the field. Headlights dipped and rose as it traversed ruts in the ground. Pretty soon it would knock down an apple tree.

Brakes squealed. Josh winced at the sound, more for what it would do to Neema’s sensitive hearing than his own. He gave a command and they slowed, Josh angling both of them in the same semi-circle so they came up on the passenger side. He padded through trees and kept low.

The engine shut off.

A door slammed…two.

Three.

Outnumbered, even with Neema’s help.

He got close enough to spot two figures cross the beam of the headlights. Tall, bulky men. They were accompanied by one shorter and thinner. Wiry like a teenage boy. Was one of the men Maggie’s boyfriend? Her killer?

If so, why return to the place she was dumped? That made no sense. He’d want to keep himself as far from the situation as possible. Not risk being seen here.

“Where?” One man barked.

The teen lifted his arm. “Over there.” His voice shook as badly as his extended limb. Josh watched him lower it back by his side.

The man who’d spoken first grasped him on the back of the neck and shoved his body forward. “I mean, show me. Idiot.”

The young one stumbled. “O-kay.”

Josh watched them walk across the field, through rows of apple trees toward Maggie’s dead body. Neema stood completely still and silent by his side. Ready for whatever command he would give.

He followed the men, hanging back so they wouldn’t hear him. The homeland security agent had seemed in command, capable. Was she watching the same way he did? Surely she’d have caught up to him by now.

One of the men swore loudly, fast and short as a gunshot.

Josh frowned. The men had stopped suddenly.

“What…oh.” The first man, the one who seemed to be in charge. Of at least the teen. “She’s out cold.”

“She’s hot.” That was the teen. There was a shuffle, and he said, “Ow. What’d you do that for?”

“You don’t get dibs.” A third voice, one Josh hadn’t heard yet.

The teen said, “Fine. I see how it is.”

“And don’t forget it.”

The first man spoke again. “Dakota Pierce. This says, ‘Homeland Security Investigations.’” He swore again. “What’s she doing out here?”

The third man said, “She’s got a nasty gash on her forehead. She dead?”

Josh’s entire body felt like it turned to stone. Neema shifted closer, sensing the change in him. He wanted to yell. Or throw up.

“Nah,” the man answered. “Just out cold.”

The teen said, “Was she looking for Maggie, too?”

“You mean the girl you decided to just dump out here in the open?”

“I said I was sorry,” the teen whined.

“Take her gun. And don’t shoot your foot off.”

“Do we have time for this?” one of the taller men asked.

“Depends on what you had in mind.”

Josh didn’t like the tenor of their conversation at all. Whatever they wanted to do with Dakota, it wasn’t going to be good. Had she been conscious she’d probably have shot them already. She hadn’t seemed like a woman who would accept a whole lot of that kind of thing, and maybe that was an understatement. As for him, he would be right there beside her, adding his own bullets to the mix.

Except for the fact the rounds would be extracted from these men by the local coroner. Then he’d have to answer a bunch of uncomfortable questions about why his slugs were found in dead lowlifes at a spot he wasn’t exactly supposed to be.

It should’ve been his weekend off. Josh was already skating on thin ice with his boss, an assistant director at the DEA. And with the senior agent he’d been assigned to.

He hadn’t realized how badly he would grate against the procedure. He’d figured there would be a whole lot more hands-on work alongside the paperwork he accepted as necessary. What he hadn’t anticipated was being paired with one of those agents just clocking in and out every day, biding his time until retirement. The man only wanted to do computer work.

Josh had been “boots on the ground” for as long as he could remember. And he had a sealed juvenile record to prove it. Always wading into the fight when there was someone to protect. Something to fix. Or save.

There was no way he’d let this agent face three men alone. Especially when she was unconscious. He wanted his life to count for something even if that meant he got messy in the process, or if he risked his job.

He had to help this woman.

The three men were still talking. So graphic, it was getting pretty gross.

“And when we’re done?” the teen asked, his voice animated now.

“We kill her,” the first man said. “You’re the expert at dumping bodies. Guess that makes it your job.” Bitterness laced his tone.

“I said I was sorry. What more do you want from me?”

Number three said, “How about a little respect for your brother?” He paused. “Now pick her up. Let’s go.”

Josh moved in closer, gun out in front, and called out, “Hold up.”

Two of them whipped around, guns drawn. The teen dropped Dakota’s arm.

“No one is taking her anywhere.”

Dakota started to stir, letting out a moan.

Neema growled. Josh said, “You boys best move on.”

He wanted to arrest them all, but had no backup and wasn’t out here with any of the authority his own badge held.

One of them lifted his weapon higher. The other’s attention was on Josh’s dog. She had Kevlar strapped around her, but she could still get seriously hurt if they managed to hit her.

Josh took a half step left to cover her.

He saw the movement as it began. Knew the man’s intention immediately. He’d been in too many firefights not to recognize that glint in someone’s eyes. Murder looked the same the world over.

Even at home.

Bullets flew. He dove to the side. Rolled.

And came up shooting.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 3

Clothing brushed her face. Someone stepped on her hand with their boot—thank you, gloves. Still hurt, though. Dakota couldn’t help the moan that escaped her lips with her next exhale.

She blinked at the sky. Her head reverberated pain from a spot on her temple to the back of her neck, where her pulse throbbed with every heartbeat.

A gunshot blasted.

Two shots answered it. Then a third.

Pause.

“You wanna go down for killing two feds,” someone called out, “then keep this up.” Her mystery man. Where was his dog?

A gunshot answered him.

“That’s some heat you’ll have on you. Until you’re locked up for life.” He went quiet and a shot rang out. “I wouldn’t want that much attention.”

Dakota’s ears rang. She tried to lift her head, but everything rotated. Her. The ground underneath her. She rolled and vomited onto the dirt.

Voices called out. She couldn’t make out the words, or who it was.

“…go!”

“What about—”

“Just go!”

The truck? She remembered that, but not much else. What was going on? Dakota pressed her hands onto the ground and tried to do a push up, get her feet under her. She managed knees. When she lifted her head the world swam again. She forced herself to wait, to get steady in her balance, and then she stood. Swayed. Leaned against a tree.

A tree. That was it.

She reached up and touched her forehead. Pain stabbed like a knife, but she couldn’t feel much with her gloves on and couldn’t see what that wet stuff was. Blood. She wiped at the injury with the back of her hand.

A truck engine revved. Dakota turned her body first, letting her head move at the same time as her shoulders. Headlights swept over the trees, and she flinched. Too bright.

Not her first concussion. And on a scale of one to bad. This was…probably a seven. But only because of the blood.

Now, what did she have to do first? She couldn’t think against the nausea.

Something nudged her hand, low by her hip. She looked down and saw the dog. Couldn’t remember her name. She lifted her hand to touch its head…

“There you are.”

She turned and tried to speak, but that sick feeling clogged her throat.

“Shhh.” He reached up to touch her forehead. Dakota sent a weak palm strike into his chest. He barely moved but dropped his hand. “Point taken. No touching. But you’re hurt.”

Dakota took a slow breath, then exhaled. Cold air. No more hurling. “I’m okay.”

His look told her what he thought of that. “They’re gone. It’s just us again.”

“And the dead girl.”

He nodded. “I think they might’ve been here to find her.”

“Huh.” She couldn’t nod right now, and she didn’t know what else to say.

“Did they hurt you?”

“Ran into a tree. Chasing you.” She should’ve brought cuffs with her. It would be eminently satisfying if she could slap those bad boys on him—to get him back for leaving out some key information. He’d told her nothing. She didn’t want to admit to a desire to pay him back for her injury too, but…

Okay, she should at least be honest with herself, even if the truth was ugly. Even if it meant she was someone she wouldn’t even want to be mixed up with.

He had the decency to wince at least. Good. It was basically his fault.

“Can I see?” He turned on his flashlight.

Dakota waved it away. “Who are you?” It had been his voice, saying those guys would be killing two feds. She had a whole lot of questions about what’d happened while she’d been unconscious, but still.

“Is that really the point right now?”

“You’re a fed.”

“Okay,” he said. “But this isn’t an official investigation, so it’s not like that’s relevant.”

“It is.”

“I’m not here as a fed.”

“Just a man with a dog,” she said, “looking for a body. Josh Weber.” She was pretty proud of herself for remembering that.

“You really don’t look good.” He reached for her elbow. “Can you walk, or do you want to sit down?”

Dakota pulled out her phone instead. “Backup will be here in a minute.” The team would descend, and she’d have to have her act together. At least enough to fight past the sickness and do her job. “I need a bandage.”

He shone the light at her face. “You need more than that.”

“No, I don’t.” She gritted her teeth at the light against her eyelids. He moved the beam away, and she opened her eyes. “I just have to clean up.”

“So you’re one of those people.”

She stared at him.

“Stoic. Don’t let anyone know you’re hurt.” He studied her. “I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. It’s just that—”

She brushed past him. “Whatever.”

Unfortunately, her equilibrium wasn’t up to par, and she’d moved too fast. Dakota swayed. Josh caught her. One strong arm slid around her back, the other grasped her under the elbow. Just enough to steady her. Nothing more.

“Who are you?” The question came out as a whisper, giving away entirely too much. Not just curiosity, but also interest. Because yes, he intrigued her. More than any man had in a long time.

He’d held his own against more than one man with a gun. Enough to warn the shooters off. To save them both.

“Just Josh.” He walked with her, but she didn’t know where they were going. “What about you? What’s your name?”

“Dakota.” She got her balance enough to shift away from him. He got the message and let go. The dog kept pace with them.

“Just Dakota?”

She smiled, but couldn’t glance at him right now or she would hurl again. It was for the best. She didn’t need distractions in her life. He was one of her people, and that was good enough. More than that wasn’t even on the table. She didn’t do relationships.

If he turned out to be lying, then she would either arrest him or shoot him.

Those were the facts. They’d keep her in good stead and meant she didn’t lose focus on her work. When the job was done she’d go home to her quiet house, a place she loved. Her retreat. The sanctuary she’d never had, but which she’d forged for herself.

The pounding in her head grew louder, until she realized it wasn’t coming from inside her head.

“Helicopter.”

She wanted to look up but figured that wasn’t a good idea. “Cavalry.” Too bad she hadn’t been able to mop up the blood on her face before they got here. She waved one arm above her head, then moved to the open area at the edge of the orchard. It wouldn’t be good if they landed by the body and blew away key pieces of evidence.

The chopper lowered to the ground. Dakota leaned against the fence and covered her ears. Josh stood beside her, and she took a moment to study him.

He’d been in a gunfight and didn’t look any worse for wear. He knew how to handle life when it got crazy, which made her wonder again about that military bearing he had.

“You okay, Pierce?”

She blinked and realized Special Agent O’Caran was watching her. Oops. “Fine,” she called out over the helicopter rotors. Another man walked behind him.

They were both here?

O’Caran’s baby face features made him look to be in his early twenties. Bright blue eyes and blond hair. He could be the heartbreaker doctor on a TV show. “Victoria said you had a case.”

Behind O’Caran was a taller, thinner man. Salvarez. Hispanic heritage. There was no better hunter she’d ever met. His deadly gaze flicked between her and Josh Weber, then took in her injury. Then he barked, “Explain.”

 

 

. . .

 

 

The look she gave him when Josh suggested she let the EMTs check her out almost made him take a step back. Almost.

The taller of the two men walked past him, intentionally clipping Josh with the duffel bag he carried. Evidence collection, probably. “You heard the man, Cupcake. Go see the EMTs.”

The combination of both the bump and the nickname caught Josh’s attention enough to make him turn and follow the guy. Cupcake? The younger of the two shot Josh a look, and then went with her instead of Josh and the tall one.

“Show me this body.”

“You aren’t going to arrest me, or lock me down as a witness?” Clearly these guys were feds as well. Homeland agents, just like the woman.

The Hispanic man glanced at him with a long look. “Should I?”

“Just a question.”

The man squared off with him. “She tried to arrest you, right?”

“Actually, I was going to arrest her. Maybe.”

“But you didn’t.” He pointed at Josh. “Smart move.” They trudged across the field of trees all the way to where Maggie lay. “Anyone touch anything?”

“Dakota checked for a pulse.” Josh hung back. The man crouched to look over every inch of the young woman. “Her name was Maggie.”

“And you know this how?”

Josh figured there wasn’t any reason to keep it a secret. “She’s my neighbor’s granddaughter. Eden asked me to see if Neema and I could find her.”

The man straightened. He eyed the dog as she wandered around the edge of the tree line sniffing everything. “Why’d your neighbor ask you?”

Josh paused. “You guys are Homeland Security, right? Does Maggie have something to do with one of your cases?”

He studied Josh, then pulled out his phone. “Full name.”

Josh figured there wasn’t any reason to lie, or not tell him.

“You live local?”

“Coeur d’Alene.” Not like his address was a secret. “But I work in Spokane.”

The man nodded. Josh might’ve been fooled into thinking the guy was distracted, typing on his phone. He wasn’t.

Assuming otherwise would’ve been a mistake, especially considering how his attention never shifted when the other two wandered over.

Before they emerged from the trees, the tall man with Josh called out, “How’s your head?”

Without even looking up from his phone.

Dakota stepped into view. “Fine.” But the bandage on her temple said otherwise.

The associate who’d gone with her said, “She has a concussion.”

She frowned at him. “He said probable. That doesn’t mean it’s definitive.”

The man with Josh said, “You throw up?”

She made a face. Across the other end of the field the helicopter lifted from the ground, momentarily cutting off any conversation.

Josh folded his arms and waited out the whomp of rotors as the chopper moved away. “So what does Homeland Security want with this apple orchard?” It was only a guess that their presence here didn’t have anything to do with Maggie.

The younger of the two men pointed at the woman. “Dakota is Homeland.” He stepped forward, right hand stretched out. “Niall O’Caran, NCIS.”

A Navy cop?

They shook, and then Niall pointed to the taller man. “Salvador Alvarez, US Marshal.”

Josh frowned. Dakota chuckled, then said, “Yeah. That’s pretty much most people’s reaction.” She pushed out a breath. “Northwest Counter-Terrorism Task Force.”

“Never heard of it.”

She folded her arms. “That means we’re doing our jobs. You see, people think federal agencies can’t work together, and for the most part they’re correct. FBI and some other agencies work great with local law enforcement one-to-one, on a smaller scale. We work the cases that cross state lines, as well as the jurisdictions of multiple federal agencies—those that would normally leave the FBI and the DEA squabbling over who is lead on the case. We’re fighting the same war. We’re on the same side. It isn’t perfect, but we’re in a unique position to focus on specific cases, using our individual skills without the bureaucracy.”

“Investigating without red tape?”

That sounded like the best parts of the job he’d wanted. And a whole lot more interesting. But Josh had to squash that thought, otherwise his attempt at contentment would go out the window.

The marshal cracked a smile that looked scary more than anything else. Salvador Alvarez, the younger guy, had said. “We don’t have carte blanche. What we have is the understanding that we can piece things together that otherwise wouldn’t be connected, and a boss with a serious amount of pull.”

Dakota took a step away. “You got this, right Sal?” She wandered to a tree and lowered herself to sit, her back against it.

The thin man frowned. “Yeah, Cupcake. I got it.”

The dichotomy between a Marshal who was admittedly pretty scary looking, and his use of the word “cupcake,” made Josh wonder if there was something between them. Something other than the respect of teammates. The very thought of something more between the two made him feel strangely disappointed.

Alvarez tossed the younger man a pair of gloves from his duffel bag, and they got to work processing the body.

Josh glanced at Dakota. Maybe she should’ve gone back in the chopper to get seen by a doctor. Neema wandered over to her then. She sniffed the hand Dakota had placed in her lap, then laid down beside her.

The woman agent stiffened.

Didn’t like dogs? Or wasn’t used to them.

Plenty of people didn’t know what to do with a dog, especially one who could be imposing. Too many owners failed to train their animals, or didn’t recognize how easily dogs could develop psychological problems. Neema wasn’t his child. She was a trained marine asset, an animal, and they weren’t a family. They were a pack.

A pack that needed to let this team get to work. He could report back to Eden with the sad news about her granddaughter. He wasn’t even supposed to be here. Josh should be at the YMCA, playing basketball with the youth group kids. The last thing he needed was to insert himself into someone else’s case.

He’d tried to respect the agent the DEA had assigned him as a mentor. But how could he when all the guy wanted to do was watch surveillance video and file reports? They’d visited a bank once. That was the only time they’d left the office in four months of working together—except to get lunch. The guy was like a cop who only wanted to write traffic citations instead of responding to actual calls. He just couldn’t understand it.

“You guys have a lot to do, so Neema and I will get out of your hair.” He clicked his fingers. His dog got up and wandered toward him, stretching out her back legs one by one as she came over. He scratched her head and nodded to the agents.

US Marshal.

NCIS.

Homeland Security.

This wasn’t his life. It was theirs. Maybe one day he could find out more about them. See if they had an open spot on the team.

“Alvarez.”

Josh glanced at him and saw the glow of his phone screen up against the man’s cheek.

“Yeah.” Pause.

Josh waved, ready to get out of there.

“Maybe.” Another pause. “Yes, Ma’am.” He hung up the phone. “How about you don’t leave just yet, Special Agent Weber.”

Dakota gasped. “What?”

“You heard me,” the Marshal said. “He’s a fed. Josh here is an agent with the DEA.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 4

Dakota gaped. “DEA? I heard you say you were a fed but I didn’t believe it.” Part of her had assumed it was just a bluff. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Sal turned away to bag evidence while Niall took a million pictures. She didn’t miss the satisfied look on his face. He took entirely too much pleasure in putting Josh on the spot.

The relentless click of the camera didn’t feel good with her head pounding like this, but she was alive.

Josh ran a gloved hand over his hair.

“Maybe I should call your boss and ask them that question.” She didn’t have to like sitting here with the mother of all headaches while they did the work. She could’ve done it herself if she hadn’t run into a tree branch.

She pulled out her phone, not necessarily intending to use it. More to let this guy know she wasn’t going to be swayed, even if he talked a good game. She’d learned the hard way what manipulation did. Dakota didn’t rely on her feelings anymore. She used logic and reason to make decisions.

“I’d rather you didn’t do that.” Josh took a couple of steps toward her. The dog wandered some more.

Was the animal going to sniff her again? Dakota shifted her wary glance to look at the DEA agent. “I’ve known a few DEA agents. You don’t want to hear my opinion of most of them.”

He shrugged. “I’m new. The reputation is that they’re a bunch of rule-breakers and partiers, right? It’s true of some, but the DEA higher-ups are actively trying to bring in new blood. To shake up the agency and get things running efficiently again.”

“So why don’t you want them to know you’re here?”

“Because I’m doing a favor for my neighbor, trying to find Maggie.”

“By trespassing on private land.”

He shot her a pointed look. Yes, that was exactly what she’d been doing as well. She hastily changed the subject. “Who was in the vehicle?”

“Two guys, late thirties. Forties, maybe. The third was a teen.”

“Looks like you’ll be spending your Saturday looking at mugshots.”

He groaned. “Just as long as I’m back at my desk on Monday.”

“With your name conveniently absent from any official record?”

He said, “I’m not going to ask for that. It would be unethical.”

“Okay.” She wasn’t approving of his statement, just gauging what kind of man he was.

“However, if we could refrain from calling my office before then…” He let that hang. “My supervisor will find out eventually. He’ll rap my knuckles and we’ll go back to shipping manifests and quarterly reports.”

She made a face.

He barked a laugh. “Now you feel my pain.”

“Not quite what I thought the DEA was about, but okay.”

Josh shook his head. The hint of a smile curled his mouth. “It would be funny if it wasn’t incredibly frustrating. He’s just biding his time until retirement, doing busy work.”

Dakota did a slow nod. She was so glad Victoria didn’t work that way. Nor had anyone at Homeland Security been like that, for that matter. Not when she’d trained with them, or those first few years before Victoria found her and snapped her up for her own team.

Sal glanced at her again. The twitch in his eye indicated amusement. She didn’t know what was so funny. “Almost done?”

“Not hardly.” Sal straightened to his full height and pulled out the cell phone he kept in his inside coat pocket. She didn’t think he’d ever worn a suit in his life. Except maybe at his mom’s funeral. Right now he had on insulated jeans, work boots, a thick shirt and several layers beneath that coat.

Similar to what Josh wore. Working man clothes. Clothes that said, “I’m outside and it’s cold. If I’m going to get dirty, I may as well be warm and comfortable doing it.” They were men who cared first about doing a job the right way. Not about appearance.

Her butt was cold from sitting on the ground. Her ears were numb. She could use a hot cup of decaf coffee, but aside from that—and the headache—she was all right. Her clothes were keeping her warm enough.

Not like the stuff she’d worn growing up.

Threadbare clothes were something she’d stuffed down into her mind, forgotten like the rest of those years. Not that being poor was something to be ashamed of. Plenty of good people had little to their name. Money didn’t make you a better person, it just showed your true character. For Dakota, a steady paycheck had proven to her that she could be the kind of person she wanted to be, regardless of the income.

Someone who gave plenty of her time and money. Someone who didn’t have to live what she’d lived as a child. She’d moved on. Made a life. Found good things, good people. Faith that was just as logical and reasonable as she was. Her life made sense now. At least as much as she figured it ever would.

“Are you up for a walk?”

Sal’s question jogged her out of her own head. Good thing. She didn’t want to get lost in there. “What?”

He motioned with his head. “Go meet the coroner out front of the house. Show him where we are and then talk to the residents.”

Dakota wanted to nod. That wasn’t a good idea. “Sure.” Better than sitting around here.

Josh even wandered over and stuck out his hand. She didn’t actually need help to stand but if it made him feel useful, that was fine. She clasped his wrist and he hauled her to her feet.

“Take Niall with you. Leave Special Agent Weber.”

The NCIS agent handed Sal his camera and came over to her. He held out his elbow and used the worst British accent ever to say, “Fancy a stroll, milady?”

“Don’t ever do that again.” Rolling her eyes, she took his elbow and they ambled past Josh.

Niall laughed. “Yes, ma’am.” He opted for a southern drawl that time.

“And don’t call me ma’am.”

They set off through the trees to the main house, about a mile to the north. Niall said, “Do you think he just wants to grill that Josh guy more, or is he actually worried you’ll, like, pass out?”

“It’s Sal. Who knows?”

He nodded, as if she’d dispensed great wisdom. “Did that shot they gave you kick in yet?”

“I don’t feel like I’m going to hurl up a meal I haven’t eaten anymore, but my bell definitely got rung. Like a gong that goes on and on, you know?”

“Um…sure.”

She huffed out a laugh. “Tell Sal I’m fine.”

“And that DEA agent? What about him?”

“Why would I care about him?”

Niall looked down at her as they walked.

“What?”

“Huh. Okay.” He was quiet for a moment. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Warn me about what? Bell got rung, remember. Not exactly firing on all cylinders.”

“The DEA agent could’ve walked with you. I’m sure Sal would’ve let him do that instead of me.”

“I doubt it,” she said. “He’s probably deep in interrogation mode already. Really tightening the screws, you know? Maybe we’ll even hear him scream.”

Niall laughed aloud. “Sal isn’t that bad. Is he?”

Dakota let his question hang in the air. “Just promise me you’ll never agree to go camping with him.” She did an exaggerated shiver. “I still have the scar I got last time.”

 

 

. . .

 

 

“How much of that was the concussion?”

The US Marshal, Sal Alvarez, tipped his head to one side, eyes on the body. “Dakota is…Dakota.”

“Does she have Native American in her?”

“Probably.” He glanced over. “Though, I’d advise against asking her any questions about her past, prior to her joining the task force four years ago. Or anything about her personal life at all.”

Josh glanced over at Neema, who had stayed away from the body so far. She’d never been trained as a cadaver dog, so he had figured she might at least be curious. He called her over, pulled off his gloves and ran his hands down her sides. Over her hips. Her expertise ran more in the direction of sniffing out Afghani heroin. She wasn’t an official DEA asset and likely would never be with her hip the way it had healed. But she was still his dog.

“She cold?”

Josh nodded. “I should get her inside pretty soon. She’s already been out longer than she’s comfortable with. Her hip will lock up.”

“Injury?”

“She was retired from the Marine Corps when she got hit by a ricochet sniper round. Shattered her hip joint.” He watched her walk, assessing her gait. She was either okay, or she was determined not to let on that she hurt—and it could be either. “Three surgeries.”

“That why you got out?”

Josh shrugged one shoulder. It figured the man knew about his military service, the same way he’d known Josh was an agent for the DEA. “I lost the drive for it. Didn’t see much point being out there without Neema, so I finished up and came home.”

“And her?” Sal pointed to the deceased woman on the ground between them. The man wasn’t interested in an in depth conversation on how Josh was doing, acclimating to life outside of the military. He had a job to do and Josh was a witness—if not an actual suspect in the murder.

“My neighbor’s granddaughter.” He figured he’d have to say that several more times before he was released to go home. “Margaret Detweiler. She’s nineteen. Enrolled in some classes at Spokane Falls community college but mostly floated around, driving her grandmother crazy with worry about what she was up to.”

“So this is just a good deed?”

“I’d rather it was showing up to find her and have a chat,” Josh said. “Maybe scare some sense into her about how she was living her life.”

“What’s she doing all the way out here?”

Josh said, “Eden told me recently that she had a new boyfriend. I think he’s local. I showed Eden how to find an iPhone on her Verizon account online. That’s how I knew she was in this area. The phone’s been off for a few days though.”

“You know who the boyfriend is?”

“Eden thought his name might be Terry, but that was all she knew. Maggie never showed her a picture of him or told her much. It was early, maybe only a few weeks into their relationship.”

He glanced at the dead woman then, standing in silence while the grief washed over him. Josh didn’t even know her, though he’d met her once. She’d been so young. All that “full of promise” stuff was pointless if a person didn’t seize it. By all accounts this woman hadn’t seized anything but her right to do whatever she wanted. As though her actions had no impact on anyone else.

Now she was gone, and he’d have to tell Eden what happened. At least, Josh wanted to be the one to tell her. It shouldn’t come from some faceless badge who didn’t care. Eden’s health was precarious at best. This wasn’t going to be good for her.

Josh hung his head, long enough to ask God why this had happened. It wasn’t a blow to his faith. It wouldn’t be a blow to Eden’s either. They’d had many conversations about God’s will, and man’s part in that. Enough to know she would lean on Him through this, despite how hard it would be.

“And the orchard?”

Josh opened his eyes. “She posted a picture on Instagram. This place was in the background.”

“That’s some solid detective work, Weber.” Sal grinned. “We’ll make an investigator out of you yet.”

It was probably supposed to have been a compliment, but all Josh could think was that this guy was insinuating he wasn’t an investigator yet. Maybe just that he wasn’t a marshal like Sal or a part of this task force like the rest of them. Insulting either way.

Did they have some kind of “better than everyone else” mentality? He hoped not. A group of people who’d managed to mesh different fields and different methods, who got along with each other just fine. It would be a shame if it was the rest of the world they had a problem with. Josh had never liked that “us vs. them” mentality. Life wasn’t so cut and dry, but he couldn’t explain because they wouldn’t see his point with that kind of thought process. He mentally corrected himself. If that’s what they were even thinking.

Neema made a quiet “woof.” He went over to where she’d sat, close to a tree. Josh crouched and saw a phone lying in the dirt. “Sal, right?”

“Alvarez.”

Josh ignored that. If the man wanted to be professional here then that was fine by him. “A cell. Maybe hers?”

He stepped back. Sal retrieved it from the grass with his gloved hand and slipped it into a plastic bag. He clicked the home button. “Fingerprint.”

He used the dead woman’s thumb and unlocked the phone. Swiped through screens. Josh didn’t get close enough to see or he’d be looking over the man’s shoulder, and some people didn’t like that. Alvarez turned the phone so Josh could see the screen. “This guy?”

The image was of a living and happy—in a bleary-eyed, cigarette in hand kind of way—Maggie. She stood beside a bigger man. A man Josh had seen.

“That’s one of the guys who was here.” He was her boyfriend? Certainly hadn’t acted like a grief-stricken lover when he’d been cuffing the younger man over the back of the head. Or when he’d blatantly stated what he planned to do with the unconscious Dakota. “He seemed to be the one in charge.”

Alvarez nodded. He got out his own phone and did something on both, holding them side by side.

“How long until you know who he is?”

Alvarez frowned at him. “Depends on what you plan to do with the information.”

Josh lifted both hands. “I’m not interested in interfering. I’ve already gotten more involved than I’d planned. I can go home and tell Eden what I found. You guys figure out who murdered her.”

Somehow he didn’t think it had been done by the teen, though it seemed he had dumped the body—which he explained to the marshal.

Maybe the kid was strong enough to have made those strangulation marks on her neck, but did he have the temperament? More like he’d been assigned the task of depositing her here. Where her body would be found. The man in charge—her boyfriend—hadn’t even known about it. He’d wanted to find her, but he hadn’t seemed overwhelmed with the loss, either.

“What are you thinking?”

“He didn’t care about her,” Josh said.

“And that makes you angry?”

“More like frustrated. It complicates things.”

“In what way?”

Josh thought for a second, knowing full well this was a test. “He didn’t do it—the boyfriend. Maybe he knows who did, maybe not. The teen was the one who dumped her here. That’s at least three people, with the killer added in. So who actually murdered her? And why?”

“Good.”

“Because I could reason that out?”

“No. Because you’re going to stay here, and we’re going to figure out why.”

The only reason their counter terrorism task force would investigate a murder was if…

Josh gaped. “You think Maggie was mixed up with terrorists?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 5

Dakota scanned the pdf on her laptop screen. A copy of Josh’s military service file, followed by everything the DEA had compiled on him. Test scores. Assessments. Psychological evaluations. The phrase doesn’t play well with others came to mind, but she couldn’t fault him for it. There was nothing wrong with working better alone.

At least, that was what she told herself.

The rap of knuckles sounded on the door to her motel room. She looked at the time on her screen. 8:07 AM. She closed the lid of the laptop and grabbed her weapon. “Who is it?”

“Josh.”

She pulled the door open.

He saw her gun right away and lifted both hands. One held a white paper bag. The other held a drink carrier with two paper cups. “Peace offering?”

She motioned him in with her head. “Do you need to bring me a peace offering?”

“I don’t know.” He set the stuff on the dresser and eyed her. “It’s hard to tell. Isn’t that a woman thing—like I should know why you’re mad?”

“Maybe if I was actually mad.”

“Good.” He held out a cup. “Americano, right? That’s what Alvarez said.”

She accepted it and took a sip. “Whatever else he said, he’s lying.”

Josh grinned. “Really?”

“Salvarez says a lot. Most of it’s just to throw you off. That’s why he’s so good.” She took another sip and sank onto the edge of the bed so Josh could have the chair. “And he’s the best hunter I’ve ever met. Never met an animal, man, or beast he couldn’t track.”

“Okay, wait. Salvarez? What am I missing?”

“Salvador Alvarez,” she said. “I tried Alvie, but he really didn’t like that. So we settled on Salvarez.”

Josh shook his head. “I heard him call you ‘Cupcake.’”

She groaned. “Don’t remind me. He thinks he’s funny. I just ignore it.”

“Ah.” He handed her a blueberry muffin.

“You didn’t bring Neema with you?” She glanced around. Like the dog would jump out at any second? That was ridiculous. She was being ridiculous.

“I let her out on the grass across the street this morning. When I suggested we go out in the truck, she wandered back to her crate and laid down. So I left her in the room.”

“And when housekeeping comes to clean?”

“I told them not to.” His eyes shone with humor as he took a sip of his own drink.

How did he take his coffee? Seemed to her that since he knew her preference, she should know his. They might end up friends after this weekend. She wasn’t interested in romance; her life didn’t have room for it. She wasn’t home much. Work took her all over Washington, Oregon, Idaho and Montana. Sometimes even up into Canada and Alaska.

Weeks on the road, working cases. Hardly the scenario where she’d pause for an evening out. Like that even sounded enjoyable.

Josh frowned. “How’s your head?”

“Annoying. So much so that my brain is trying to distract me by coming up with random thoughts,” she said. “You got anything?”

“I talked to the lady behind the counter at the bakery for a minute,” he said. “There was a line. I guess they don’t open until the snow melts, and then not all the time until it gets warmer.”

“Small town.”

He nodded. “I showed her the picture of Maggie and her boyfriend that was found on Maggie’s phone. She said his name is Terrence Crampton.” He took a sip. “After that, the conversation was hurried along. Seemed like she was afraid of him, actually. Like speaking his name would summon him to her bakery.”

Dakota grabbed her phone and told Victoria in a quick email. “That was a good idea. Now we can run a complete check on him.”

“Find out all his dirty secrets?”

She shrugged.

“But he could be a terrorist, right? That’s what this is about. Why you guys are here.” He took a sip. “Salvarez didn’t say much after the coroner showed up.”

Dakota set her cup aside. “We received a report of chatter related to this area. Movement between here and the Canadian border. Someone paid off a park ranger, and later they killed him. We think the money he received was the half upfront, because I found him dead behind his cabin. Next on my list is the sheriff.”

Josh shook his head. “It’s hard to believe Maggie would be involved with possible terrorism. I guess I only really know her grandmother, not her.”

“Truthfully, we have no idea what it is. Could be drugs, could be weapons. Could be something else entirely.” She paused a second. “Can you think of anywhere else that might be worth visiting today, to find out more about Maggie and her boyfriend?”

“Is this a test?” He didn’t seem too happy about that fact.

“If it was,” Dakota said, “would your answer be any different?”

“Good point.” He tossed the wrapper from his muffin into the trash can, then dug out two fritters from the paper bag next to him. He handed one to her. “What about the local bar? Seems like that’s a place people go. Get loose lipped, and maybe say more than they’d planned about what they’re up to.”

“Agreed.”

“Didn’t you and that NCIS guy go to the house last night?”

She nodded. “O’Caran. They answered the door, said they’d heard the helicopter. Apparently, unless it directly affects the apples, Mr. and Mrs. Johnson aren’t all that concerned about what happens on their property.”

“And Maggie?”

“Said they’d never heard of her.”

“Did you believe them?”

She shrugged. “We’ll see.”

“So you wait for evidence and that has to back up what someone says? Then you’ll believe them?”

“Well, otherwise you don’t know if they’re lying. Actions prove more than words, right?” That was the only way you knew whether someone was trustworthy. She’d been working with Niall and Sal for years. Victoria and Talia, as well. Trust took time to build, but they were there now. “I don’t like liars, but everyone lies. Most people are hiding what they really think, or what they’re really doing. At least what they don’t want you to know about.”

“I’m not sure if I think that’s sad, or incredibly wise.”

Dakota shrugged and crossed the room to her boots. “It just is. Don’t read more into it than that.”

She pulled her shoes on, then holstered her gun under her arm and tugged her jacket over it. “Ready to go?”

“Sheriff first?”

She nodded. “Might as well get a jump on this. Sooner or later he’s going to hear that a body was found at that orchard, and then his undies are going to be in a twist because we didn’t go to him first.”

“But you guys have jurisdiction, right?”

“Doesn’t mean he isn’t going to be bent out of shape, thinking it should have been his case to solve.”

Josh said, “Maggie isn’t a local. The victim is from Idaho, and this is Washington. It’s hardly his jurisdiction.”

Dakota nodded. “That’s good. I’m going to use that if he kicks up a fuss about her.”

“In that case, you’re welcome.” He crossed to the door and held it open for her.

Dakota didn’t step through it. “You can go first.”

“I was being polite.”

“I know.”

He frowned.

“Just go. I’ll be there in a second.”

Josh shrugged. She wasn’t sure if she believed he wasn’t bothered. Maybe, maybe not. Time would tell, if they were actually working together. As it was, they weren’t going to have time to develop trust before Monday morning, when he returned to work. They would just have to figure out how to work together before then.

And if they couldn’t, she would send him on his way.

 

 

. . .

 

 

Josh leaned on the bar and shifted his foot. The sole of his boot stuck for a second to the floor. The bartender looked up from the phone Josh held out and sniffed. “They come in here sometimes. Play pool.”

Dakota stood sideways next to him. He didn’t think for one second she was so focused on watching the room that she wasn’t listening.

The visit to the sheriff’s office had been a waste of time. He wasn’t in. Wasn’t likely to be in all weekend, given he was visiting his sister the next town over and doing his grocery shopping while he was there. None of the deputies were on duty, except one, and he was tied up dealing with a downed tree.

Dakota had left her card with the receptionist anyway, but Josh didn’t figure she’d be getting a call anytime soon. Guess that meant they didn’t need to worry about the local cops trying to take over the murder investigation.

Josh said, “What about friends of theirs?”

The bartender looked over at the pool table. “Kinda early for their crowd.”

Probably, but Josh had no intention of returning later to flash his badge around a bunch of drunk people. Especially when most would be packing guns of their own.

“What about where I can find them?”

The bartender made a face. “You wanna go up there, that’s your funeral.”

Josh waited.

“There’s a compound. It’s off Highway 16, north of town. But I wouldn’t go there.” The bartender leaned forward. “It’s members only, if you get what I mean.”

“Bikers?”

“And then some.”

Whatever that meant. Bikers, plus more? Josh didn’t know what to make of it. “What about Terry Crampton? Anything else you can tell me about him?”

“So he can hear I was talking to you, and I get my legs broke and my bar torn up?”

“Okay.” Josh didn’t want to be responsible for a man losing his livelihood—or his ability to walk. It said enough that they would retaliate like that just for information given.

The bartender had only spoken in a low voice. Didn’t want to be overheard. Even the old guy at the end of the bar had turned away, not wanting to be a party to this conversation.

It was a risky way to live, skirting the knife edge between safety and danger. Bikers alone could incite that fear in the people who lived in their town. Could they be transporting drugs or weapons? Maybe Josh should bite the bullet and call in to his office. See if they had any information on bikers in this area. But wouldn’t Dakota have been able to find the same information? If this team of hers was as good as they seemed to be—and as connected—they’d have access to what his office did.

He also figured they’d fully vetted him between last night and this morning.

Josh glanced at Dakota as they left the bar. This time he didn’t hold the door for her. Outside a fresh dusting of snow covered everything in a thin layer. Huge piles of unmelted snow, plowed into mounds, had turned brown. Exhaust fumes and dirt. Mud. Snow was great when it first fell, but that was short lived. Eventually it turned nasty.

They walked to his truck. “When y’all ran your check on me, did anyone alert the DEA that you were asking?”

“Worried about being called into the principal’s office on Monday morning?”

“Maybe.” It wasn’t exactly like that, but still. “Just wanted a head’s up. So I know what I’m walking into.”

“So far we’ve kept it below the radar. That’s Victoria’s specialty.”

“Your boss?”

“Victoria Bramlyn. Officially she works directly for the DOJ, but that’s just so we have the pull to do what we need to. She came over from the state department. No one knows what she did before, but she has contacts everywhere.”

Josh figured that meant he had to trust the woman. He’d take Dakota’s word for it—especially considering how earnest she seemed. Unlike her tactic of waiting to see people’s actions before she’d offer trust, Josh had found that most people showed their true colors straight away. And if he couldn’t get a read on a person, Neema usually could. He was a pretty good judge of character, generally able to tell when someone was trying to hide something.

Dakota didn’t like to rely on anyone. She had something in her life that had given her reason to hold herself separate from other people. Naturally distrusting, she chose to rely on herself.

Josh was curious enough he wanted to ask her about it. But she wasn’t going to open up until her conditions were met—until she knew she could trust him.

There wasn’t enough time for that. Not when, right now, they had until tomorrow night to figure out who killed Maggie and what it had to do with shipments.

They had to focus.

“So what do you think?” he asked her. “Bikers?”

Dakota shrugged. “Maybe. We can find the compound and then run the information. See what we get back.”

“Want to drive over and look? Maybe do some surveillance?”

“Sure.”

“How’s your head?” Maybe she shouldn’t be traipsing around snowy mountainsides when she had a concussion.

“I’ll let you know if I need a break.”

That was something, at least. She’d sat down last night as well. Maybe she wasn’t the kind of stubborn woman who pushed herself to breaking just to make a point. Good to know.

“All right.” Josh held the passenger door open for her.

“Are you going to keep doing that?”

“Probably.”

“Who taught you to be a gentleman? Maggie’s grandmother? Your mother?”

Josh tried to figure out the answer to that. “My mom, probably.”

“What’s she like?”

“She was amazing.”

Her brow crinkled. “Was?”

“Cancer. I was fifteen. It was awful, but she was a great mom. It’s easy to remember the good things. All the stuff moms do like make cookies and sew Halloween costumes. You know?”

“Sure.” The word sounded choked.

Josh said, “But I also remember the way she’d get on me if my room stank. Or if I left my stuff all over the hallway when I got home from school.” He grinned. “Because we’re all human, and no one is perfect. She said that was why she needed Jesus in her life so much. Because she’d get overwhelmed trying to do it all herself.”

It was a risk. A feeler, to see how Dakota viewed faith.

She nodded. “God is there when I need Him.”

“Like that song, right? I need Thee every hour. She used to sing that while she was cleaning.” He smiled at the memory. “I haven’t thought of that in a long time.”

Dakota’s smile didn’t quite meet her eyes. She opened her mouth to say something.

The roar of a truck engine cut her off.

Josh spun around to see. Dakota grabbed him. He kept spinning, taking her with him, going down to the ground. Instinct fired even before he could discern what the problem was.

Then he saw it. Flying through the air.

Grenade.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 6

They rolled across the ground as the truck exploded behind them. The front end lifted up in a fireball that nearly flipped it over completely.

Dakota didn’t quite scream, but the noise she made wasn’t far from it.

The sound was like thunder. Like the boom of a rocket launcher tearing apart a metal building. They rolled to a stop, and Josh groaned in her ear. His truck.

The truck that had pulled up alongside them was gunning it away from them. She noted the license plate.

“Dark blue truck.” She glanced at him. “Same one as last night?”

“Maybe. It was dark.” He nudged her. “Get off me.”

Dakota rolled to sit beside him. Squishing him with her enormousness? Didn’t matter what size a woman was, she figured they always felt two sizes bigger than they really were. At least, she usually did.

“Not because you’re crushing me.”

She narrowed her eyes. Behind him, flames licked the truck. The black smoke rising from the front end stank badly enough her nose wrinkled.

He said, “I just want to get up off the ground.”

“I’m going to wait a minute before I do that.” She pulled out her phone and called Talia.

The woman answered before the first ring had sounded in Dakota’s ear. “Hello, IT—”

Dakota spoke over her. “Blue truck. Washington plates.” She rattled off the letters and numbers. “Find out who it belongs to. I want their address. Now.”

“Backup?”

“Yeah, send the boys.” Salvarez and Niall could help her navigate the local cop, who was surely done dealing with that tree. Explosions probably didn’t happen much in this town. She figured someone from the bar, one of the crowd now gathered outside, had already called the deputy.

She hung up on Talia and watched the bartender come over with a fire extinguisher. He handed it to Josh, who used it on the flames. Dakota’s backside was numb from sitting on the ground. She gritted her teeth and stood, pulled out the hairband holding her ponytail in and redid it. Her head pounded. Enough she thought about being sick but swallowed the sensation down and took a few deep breaths.

Josh gave the fire extinguisher a few short bursts, then said, “Who’d you call?”

“Technical support.”

He handed the fire extinguisher off and came to stand beside her. His eyes surveyed her head. “Did you hit it again?”

She said, “No,” instead of shaking her head.

“Technical support?”

“Talia Matrice. She’s on loan from the NSA. Probably already knows everything about you, including the time you failed a math test in the sixth grade. And what you had for dinner last night.”

Josh’s eyebrows lifted.

She said, “It isn’t just that she’s good. She’s also incredibly nosy. She says social media killed it though, because everyone posts all the time about every single detail of their lives. Still, the juicy stuff is always buried.”

His eyes turned interested. “What juicy stuff is there about you?”

“Plenty buried. Not really juicy, though.” And that was all she was going to say about that. He hardly needed to know the ins and outs of her history, but she could at least acknowledge she had one. He’d figured that much out, and she wasn’t going to insult his intelligence by denying it.

Before he could dig farther, she said, “Sorry about your truck.”

“I have insurance.”

“O-kay.” Weren’t most guys all about their vehicle? She’d figured he would be mad about the fact it had just been destroyed.

“The point is you’re okay, I’m okay. No one got hurt.”

There was an edge to his words. One she didn’t understand. He seemed almost frustrated—because of her concussion? That wasn’t his fault. “The fact they did this means we’re on to something. If there was nothing to find, then they wouldn’t have reacted to us digging into their business like this.”

“So we’re on the right track?”

“Something we did, or said, got back to them and they retaliated.”

He worked his mouth back and forth. “I told them we’re feds.”

“Could be that. Or it could just be us coming here.” She indicated the bar with a sweep of her hand. “Maybe one of them called the owner of that truck, and they paid us a visit.”

A car pulled into the lot. Salvarez was at the wheel, Niall beside him. The two had been canvassing town and visiting again with the owners of the apple orchard. She was interested to know if they’d discovered anything. A destroyed truck was hardly a win, unless Talia got the name of the owner of the fleeing truck. And that was assuming it wasn’t a stolen vehicle that had sped away.

Following the car was a fire truck, and then a sheriff’s department vehicle. If they’d intended to stay under the radar, it wasn’t working. So much for an incognito investigation. Everyone in town would know they were feds by the end of the day—not just those guys from the orchard.

Salvarez shut off the car. Both guys came straight to her, but Sal in particular took in the vehicle. “You guys okay?”

Josh said, “We’re good.”

Dakota nodded as much as she could without pain reverberating through her skull. She could use another dose of Ibuprofen, but always forgot to note what time she’d taken the last dose. How long had it been?

“Pierce?”

She snapped out of her thoughts. “What?”

“You okay?”

Dakota said, “I’m okay.”

Salvarez didn’t look convinced, but he let it go. “Bomb?”

“Grenade.”

Josh said, “Military.”

Dakota turned to him.

“I’m just pointing out that it isn’t easy to get a grenade unless you’re in the service and you stole it. Or they could’ve bought one from someone who is. They don’t exactly sell them on the open market, right?”

“That jives with what we found this morning,” Niall said. “The military connection. Or at least a military-style of operating.”

Dakota frowned. She had to wonder if this was going where she had a feeling it might. It was like a ghost suddenly appearing at the corner of her vision. That otherworldly specter of the past reared its head, mouth open, ready to chomp down and devour her.

Salvarez’s eyes were dark when he said, “This morning we found out there’s a local group holed up outside of town, living off the land. Recruiting local guys who don’t want to pay taxes.”

“A militia?” Two words, but it sounded choked coming from her mouth. She cleared her throat and then asked it again.

Salvarez nodded, his eyes knowing.

Josh said, “You think that’s who is transporting drugs, or guns, or whatever through the orchard?”

“Could be.” Sal shrugged one shoulder, his attention still on her. “Niall and I are going to go check it out.”

Because he was trying to save her from having to do it? “This is my case.” She got to town first, that meant she took point. The only agent with seniority here was Victoria. Salvarez didn’t have the authority to bench her. “Josh and I will go.”

She saw him glance at her out the corner of her eye.

“I have to go check on Neema.”

“Fine. We can do that on the way.” Why did he sound like he didn’t want to come with her?

The sheriff’s deputy who’d shown up wandered over. Dakota figured she’d continue making her point and strode between the guys toward the deputy. She stuck her hand out and introduced herself. Watched that flare in his eyes when she mentioned Homeland Security, and the task force.

Just another day on the job.

 

 

. . .

 

 

Josh shook the deputy’s hand.

“Thanks for speaking with me. I appreciate your time.”

“No problem.” Like Josh was one of these task force agents, some high-up federal guy who deigned to speak with the small town sheriff’s deputy. Instead of what he actually was—a rookie entirely too worried about what would happen when his name ended up on a report. Or when someone called his office and it got back to the assistant director that he was here, wrapped up in a murder investigation.

Dakota stood with her fellow task force agents. The conversation was intense as indicated by all the frowns and gesturing.

The sheriff’s deputy wandered off, and Josh looked over his truck. It was a wreck. No way could he salvage that. It would have to be towed away and scrapped.

He sighed. That sweater on the back seat was his favorite. Or, it had been his favorite. Now it was a charred mess. Other than that he didn’t keep much in there, but he’d have to figure out a new way to get home. After he called his insurance guy.

Josh turned away from the crowd gathered, the agents and first responders, and started walking toward the center of town. The air was crisp. Thankfully the side of the road wasn’t lined with a curb of mounded brown snow. Most of that had melted. April was coming.

His boots splashed the puddles as he walked, and cars passed him with a gust of wind that numbed the back of his neck.

His phone was going to ring at any moment. He knew it. He’d get fired or called back to the office and reprimanded. Then fired.

It could’ve been a whole lot worse. When he’d confronted the two men and the teen, they could’ve killed both him and Dakota. Josh had forced the situation. And he thanked God it hadn’t been worse. She could so easily be dead right now, because he’d put her in danger just trying to save her life.

The reason didn’t matter. Not when he should’ve thought through the outcome more. Instead, he’d just reacted. Gone on instinct.

Josh stuffed down the urge to kick a mound of crunchy snow.

The quicker he got back to Neema, the quicker he could find a way to get out of here. Get back to his life. He didn’t need to hang around Dakota and her team, not when doing so just reminded him of everything his career as a federal agent wasn’t. Yet. Maybe it never would be. And what was the point in longing for something that hadn’t happened and might not ever?

When the truck exploded, he’d protected her. That made up for putting her in danger in the first place, right? They were square. He could leave right now, with his conscience—and career—intact.

A car pulled up alongside him. Josh waited for it to pass, but it just slowed. Like they were trying to keep pace with him.

His hand shifted toward his weapon.

After a second the engine revved and the vehicle pulled directly ahead of him. The front window rolled down. Dakota said, “Need a ride?”

“I’m fine walking.” He was halfway to town already.

“It’s cold.”

“I like walking. It’s my time to think.”

Usually he did it with Neema beside him and earbuds in. Not that he was actually listening to anything, but people were less inclined to stop and talk if they thought you couldn’t hear. Together they hiked mountains. Ran along forest trails. They even walked the neighborhood around his house. Didn’t matter, so long as it was quiet and they were moving.

Dakota said, “Get in the car, Weber.”

Behind her, in the driver’s seat, that Alvarez guy snorted. Was the third one, the guy Niall, in the back?

This was about reminding him he wasn’t part of their team. Maybe getting a ride wasn’t that big of a deal, but it also wouldn’t help that much.

“Do you want me to tell you that we need your help?”

“You don’t,” he pointed out.

“Maybe we do and none of us know it yet,” she said. “I’ll at least admit to that much.”

He’d have figured she was mostly serious, except for that gleam of humor in her eyes. He didn’t need to be placated. “I don’t mind getting a ride.” It was cold, and he didn’t have his gloves.

“Then get in.”

He’d been right that the other guy—Niall—was in the back seat. He nodded to Josh and then went back to his phone.

Alvarez glanced over his shoulder once before he pulled back onto the road, and they headed for the motel. “Don’t forget you still have to look at mugshots.”

“Did you get anything back from the license plate?”

Dakota was the one who answered that. “Nothing yet.”

“How’s your head?”

“Fine.”

He said, “You expect any of us to believe that’s true?”

The guys reacted to his words. Shifted. Glanced at him. Josh just sat there. The three of them were in agreement about that, at least. Dakota was one stubborn woman. But despite it, he didn’t think she would endanger anyone just to prove she was fine when she wasn’t. Josh didn’t have enough experience with her to know when to push the situation and when to hang back.

Dakota said, “Whether it is or not doesn’t matter. What matters is finding who killed Maggie Detweiler and what the source of that chatter was. That’s where you come in.”

“Mugshots?”

“Yes.” She paused. “We know who Terrence Crampton is, but we need to ID those other two guys.”

“You think Terry and his buddies are the ones who tossed a grenade under my truck?”

Alvarez said, “Pretty definitive way of saying back off.”

“Except that it strands me in town, and now I have a grudge as well. How does that help them cover up what they’ve done and keep me off their tails when they’ve no doubt got more nefarious things to do?”

Someone snorted, he wasn’t sure.

Dakota twisted in her seat and said, “Nefarious?”

He shrugged. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

“I’m—”

Alvarez and O’Caran both said, “Fine,” dragging the word out far longer than she would have done.

Josh nearly laughed.

“Maybe I wanna walk,” she told them. “Did you think about that? No, because you only think about yourselves.”

“You don’t want to walk, Cupcake.”

“I like walking.”

Alvarez said, “You do?”

“Yes, gumdrop.” She leaned closer, firing the word at him like a cannon blast over the deck of a warship.

Josh said, “Do you guys ever get along?”

Sal said, “Yes.”

Dakota said, “Of course.”

Beside Josh, O’Caran glanced over, shook his head and mouthed the word, No. Josh smiled, and the young NCIS agent returned it. Then he glanced at his phone. Seemed like this guy felt his pain, because he said, “If you guys are done bickering, Talia got a license plate.”

The NSA person?

“The truck that fled the scene belongs to Terrence Crampton.”

“Sounds familiar,” Josh said. “Maggie’s boyfriend is the one who threw a grenade at us?”

“He threw it at your truck.” Dakota pointed out.

Like it made a difference? They could have been seriously hurt, even if Terry hadn’t been aiming at them.

“Meet Terrence Crampton.” O’Caran held out his phone so Josh could see the screen. “This the guy?”

Josh looked at the screen. “Yep. Confirmed. That’s the guy on Maggie’s phone, and that’s one of the guys I saw standing over Dakota last night.”

Alvarez’s grip tightened on the wheel until his knuckles whitened. O’Caran didn’t look much happier. Dakota stared straight out the front window.

“But he wasn’t the man who killed Maggie.”

They had no idea who the killer was.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 7

Dakota sipped water, trying to keep her lunch down. She needed to push away the nagging ache that made her head thump. The smell of dog breath on her cheek wasn’t helping. Why did she always get the slice of pie? She really should’ve stopped after the sandwich, but diner pie was the best. Plus, she was a sucker for whipped cream.

Josh sat in the driver’s seat, the engine off. She was beside him. They were across the parking lot, watching the entrance to a fitness center.

The front door swung open and a group of three teen boys strode out. Shorts and tennis shoes, hoodies. Red cheeks and sweat.

“Him?” She glanced at Josh to see what his answer would be.

She waited while he studied the three. Once they’d discovered the name of the truck’s owner, it hadn’t taken long to discover he had a teenage brother—with his own driver’s license. The vehicle used to dump Maggie’s body?

Salvarez and O’Caran were getting a warrant to pull Terrence Crampton in for questioning concerning Maggie’s death and the attempted murder of two federal agents. Dakota and Josh’s job was to find the teen.

His brow crinkled. “I think so.”

“That won’t hold up in court.”

“Okay then, that’s the person whose image is on Austin Crampton’s driver’s license. And that’s his pickup.” Josh glanced aside at her. “Will that hold up in court?”

He knew the answer. He could read it on her face. Dakota said, “He’s pulling out.”

Josh turned on the engine of Dakota’s rental and followed Austin out of the lot. Neema’s tags jingled as she shifted to put her nose to the cracked back window. Josh said, “Think he’s going home?”

She studied the back of Austin’s rusted pickup. “Guess we’ll find out.”

He pulled onto the highway and headed out of town. Was home the compound? She didn’t want him to get there and hunker down behind locked gates. They’d lose their lead.

Dakota bit her lip, then reached in the backseat ignoring how much twisting hurt and got what she needed out of her duffel of supplies.

She flipped the switch on the bottom and set the flashing blue and red light on the dash. Right where Mr. Austin Crampton would see it. And then pull over.

“You carry one of those with you?”

She shrugged. “Comes in handy sometimes. Like now.” She motioned out the front window, where Austin’s brake lights had come on. He slowed and pulled over.

Dakota sent a quick text to Talia so their NSA computer specialist could mark their location and an update of what they were doing. Maybe she already knew, but it was procedure.

They both climbed out.

Josh met her at the hood of her rental. “You want to take the lead on this?”

She nodded. He’d probably never pulled anyone over before. Dakota wandered to the driver’s door and rapped on the window, one hand on the butt of her holstered weapon. “Get out of the car, please.”

The door cracked. Austin Crampton didn’t look nervous and neither did he look belligerent in the face of authority.

She shifted to flash the badge clipped to her belt. Just to see his reaction. “Special Agent Pierce, Homeland Security. Get out of the car, please.”

When he straightened to stand, she backed up a step and said, “This is Special Agent Weber, DEA.”

Josh nodded.

The kid looked curious. Cautious. Like he’d been taught to stay calm, find out what the law wanted before he said or did anything.

Dakota had been taught the same thing.

“Was I speeding?”

“This isn’t about that.” Dakota shifted her stance. “This is about last night. A dead woman and an apple orchard.”

“Sounds like a bad movie.” And the kid didn’t think it was a comedy.

“Maybe, but right now my colleagues are out getting an arrest warrant. We’re going to bring in the person who dumped Maggie Detweiler in that orchard.”

Austin’s nose flared.

“Maybe find out what else has been going on at the orchard, under the noses of hardworking people.”

That got her a lip curl.

“Don’t think much of people who pay their taxes?”

Austin said, “No, I don’t think much of them.”

He was good. Or he’d been trained well, at least. Taught not to give away anything, to use her own words to formulate his answer. She said, “Sheep, right? That’s what y’all call them. Mindless animals working day in and day out, for pittance. It’s like you’ve woken up. Seen the light, or whatever.” She watched him for a reaction. “You’re the only free ones.”

He shrugged, but didn’t disagree with her.

He’d been told that. But did he believe it? Was Austin Crampton looking for a way out, a normal life?

“So y’all live off the land. Screw the government, right?” She shifted closer to him. Nose to nose, but he’d have no way of getting to her gun before she could stop him. Being disarmed was the kiss of death for a federal agent’s career.

Dakota said, “Well, guess what. You’re a citizen, and that means you’re subject to the same laws. You didn’t kill that girl? Great. But you dumped the body in that orchard.”

His eyes flickered.

“No matter what you think is going to happen right now, there’s one thing you gotta consider. You don’t know me, Austin Crampton. You don’t know the world of hurt I can bring on you. You wanna breathe free anytime in the next thirty years, that’s up to you. You want to rot in jail for her murder? We can make that happen, too.”

“So I talk?” He folded his arms. “I’m not gonna do that.”

“They taught you well, I’ll give them that. But even they can’t keep you from going down for this. Not with all the evidence I’m going to bring against you.”

“I’ll get a lawyer.”

“You think they’re going to foot the bill? Where’s the money gonna come from? I’ll make sure you end up with the most useless public defender in the state of Washington.” She let her lips curl up at the corners. “You’ll have no chance.”

“I didn’t kill her.”

“Maybe. But I can still prove you were there. You touched her, right? Not so much of a stretch between that and you being the one who strangled her.” Dakota shrugged and glanced away. “Won’t be that hard.”

“No—” He stopped. Cut himself off.

Enough restraint that it impressed her.

She glanced around, like she didn’t care one way or the other what happened to Austin.

Josh’s face was hard. Dakota didn’t have time to explain what she was doing. Not if it was only to make him feel better. She just hoped he didn’t butt in on the conversation and try to soothe the kid.

Austin let out a frustrated sound. “I don’t wanna go to jail.”

That was the most honest thing he’d said so far. “Tell me who killed her.”

He pressed his lips into a thin line. “I’m done talking.” The teen shifted, so she had to step back, and he went to his door. “You wanna arrest me? Do it.”

Or what? Dakota wondered if he had a loaded weapon in that truck. Probably. She didn’t figure it would take much for him to pull it out and use it.

Austin climbed in and gunned his engine. The back wheels fought for traction and it fishtailed for a second before it caught, and he sped off down the highway.

“You want to burn that kid just to get a result on this case?”

He said that like it was a bad thing.

Josh spoke again. “He didn’t kill Maggie. He knows who did, and you’re going to make him shut down if you push too hard.”

Dakota walked to the passenger door, wishing she felt okay enough to drive. “It’s called ‘food for thought.’ So when I hit him up again, he’s more amenable to the suggestion of talking to me versus jail time.”

“Because you’re the resident expert on teens?”

As if Dakota was going to explain her resume to him. “Kids like that? Yes, I am.”

 

 

. . .

 

 

Josh leaned across the restaurant table. “Is she always like this?”

Dakota was in the restroom, so he wanted this conversation done before she got back. That meant either Alvarez, or O’Caran, needed to talk fast.

“Yes.” Alvarez sipped his drink.

O’Caran said nothing.

Josh glanced between them. “That’s it?”

O’Caran picked up where his partner had left off. “If you want to know Dakota, maybe you should ask her.”

Josh sat back in his seat. The two of them were on the opposite side of the booth. Dakota hadn’t protested much over the fact she’d been sat beside Josh. Alvarez had just given her a look, and she’d sat down. Josh figured her head hurt too much to argue.

“Fine,” Josh said. Dakota had been hard with that kid. Threatening to lock him up. Josh would probably have taken a more “youth pastor” approach. Try to befriend the teen. Then, when the rapport was established, he’d bring in the truth. She’d gone in fast and smacked him with a reality he hadn’t wanted to face.

Who would want to acknowledge the fact that they were facing jail time? Especially when it was only a threat. All because Josh didn’t want his name in the report. There was no way he could get away with testifying as an unnamed witness just because he hadn’t wanted to get in trouble on Monday.

Ugh. This whole thing was becoming a tangled mess.

The kid seemed to have known what his rights were. Enough he’d walked away when he was done talking. Dakota had pushed Austin to talk. Now she had to follow up with another conversation to see if the “food for thought” she’d given him to chew on had accomplished anything.

He’d have offered to buy the kid a milkshake, or something.

“We typically work different angles of a case alone and then collaborate when necessary. Or if we need backup,” Alvarez said. “She’s used to taking care of stuff like this on her own terms.”

“Doesn’t that just breed a culture where no one relies on anyone else and everyone does their own thing?” Josh shrugged. “Doesn’t sound like you’d end up with an effective team that way.”

“We’re a team that solves cases,” O’Caran said. “We put together pieces that no one else does. We know our strengths. And we’ll hand things off to each other when someone else is better qualified to follow the lead.” He paused. “Does that sound unhealthy to you?”

Maybe not. “So Dakota is the most qualified to follow up with a teen?”

Alvarez shrugged.

“This teen, yes.” Dakota stood beside the table. “Scoot over.”

Josh did so, and she settled beside him on the bench seat at the booth. Their steaks were delivered, his with the extra mushrooms and onions on top. They were quiet while they ate, and then he asked, “Anything interesting on Terrence?”

Near as they could figure, the third man had been a friend of Terrence’s.

Alvarez shrugged one shoulder. “Drove by his house. The truck was out of sight, but we hung out long enough we saw a guy leave. Followed him to the compound and took a look around as best we could without being spotted.”

Josh said, “There really is a compound?”

“And they’re all linked to it.” Alvarez glanced at Dakota, a look Josh couldn’t read. “Bunch of militia guys holed up there doing who knows what.”

Dakota said, “And that’s who taught our teenage boy what to say when he’s pulled over by two federal agents. Our retaliation for them blowing up Josh’s car.”

A dark feeling settled in his stomach. “That was just payback?”

“No. But it’s what they’re going to think.”

“And you really think he was coached?” Josh wasn’t sure how she could know that. Unless she’d seen it before.

“No doubt. He knew what to say, what not to do. And that he could leave at any time.”

Josh stuck a chunk of steak in his mouth, giving himself time to think while he chewed. If the kid was a part of what went on at the compound, then it meant he’d been taken under someone’s wing. Was Terrence part of some kind of backwoods group who hated the government—one that involved younger siblings?

And what did that have to do with the chatter Dakota had been following up with?

His last thought had to be said aloud. “So how does Maggie’s murder tie in to all this?”

O’Caran shrugged one shoulder. “Heard something she shouldn’t have. Or stuck her nose in something she wasn’t supposed to know.”

That made sense. “She got too close.”

Dakota said, “Which means there’s something to get close to. Otherwise they’re risking way too much attention. No one was supposed to find that body. At least not this soon.”

She tapped her foot under the table, then shifted her leg beside his. “The owners at the orchard know who they are. I think they look the other way, maybe for the money. Maybe so they aren’t threatened.”

“So the militia people need the orchard.”

“Or their facilities. They could be putting supplies in the apple transports.”

Josh let that all percolate. Maggie’s death had spiraled into them investigating the activities of a group of people who could be up to any number of nefarious things.

“What about that dog of yours?” Alvarez said. “Think she can sniff out what they’re transporting?”

“She can’t tell you what it is she smelled.” Neema could sniff out a handful of explosives made from specific components. Her skill set was extremely specific. It wouldn’t help them here unless that was exactly what was being moved through the orchard.

“Might be enough for a warrant.”

Josh pressed his lips into a thin line. It didn’t work that way, and he could see Alvarez and the others knew that. “What about surveillance?”

“That could take weeks,” Alvarez said. “And I doubt we’d get much, considering the armed sentries they have. We’ll be spotted.”

“What about getting a bug inside?” Maybe if Dakota really did get the teen talking, she could persuade him to plant something in one of the buildings.

“There’s a residence and a barn. A building that looks like a Quonset hut, probably barracks or supplies.” Alvarez paused. “We’d have to know where the sensitive conversations take place, and get something planted in there. And that’s assuming they don’t regularly check for bugs.”

“Sleep on it.” Dakota glanced at all of them. “Over breakfast we can talk again, see if anyone has had any ideas.”

Josh nodded. Alvarez finished his steak. O’Caran had his phone out, typing.

They headed back to the hotel, and he let Neema out to pee and wandered around close by her. A shower would be good, along with about twelve hours of sleep. Josh prayed they’d come up with something before breakfast. A way to figure this out. Get a break in the case.

He had to leave in twenty-four hours, and that was pushing it for him to get to work on Monday morning. Whichever way he figured it, he was going to be exhausted.

Nose to the ground, Neema circled a tree and headed for the dumpster. Josh wandered after her, not looking forward to what she was going to find.

A truck pulled into the lot. He heard the engine and his instincts tweaked like they’d been doing every time a truck showed up lately. He forced himself to not pay much attention. Neema could easily find something that might injure her.

He was around the side of the motel when the first thud sounded. Josh gave the dog the command to come, and then heel. He circled the front corner of the building and saw two men carrying Dakota. Her body was limp, her head hanging down between them.

“Hey!”

Shouting was a reflex. He had no weapon.

But they did. One man swung around. He dropped Dakota’s leg as he brought his arm up. She lifted her head.

He saw a glimpse of her face.

Then the muzzle flash was gone before Josh realized what it was. Fire hit his shoulder, and he fell to the ground. Rolled with the momentum and almost blacked out at the pain. His body stopped and he blinked up at the stars.

Neema whined. Licked his face.

Someone shouted.

Tires squealed. He managed to shift far enough to see the truck peel out of the parking lot.

Dakota was gone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 8

US Marshal Salvador Alvarez heard the gunshot as he emerged from the bathroom in his room. The roar of a truck engine followed.

He swiped his gun off the bedside table and flung the door open. Weber was flat on his back in the middle of the parking lot. That dog of his stood over him, barking at the fleeing truck.

Niall barreled out of his own room, gun raised. Sal moved past him and down the stairs, fighting the growing ache in his bones. Forty years hunting was catching up with him.

Sal went over to him. Josh started to sit up, pushing back the shoulder of his jacket.

“You got shot?”

Josh gritted his teeth. The kid was tough. He didn’t even look fazed. “I think it went through my shoulder.”

Sal knelt on the asphalt and checked Weber’s back. The wound was high up on the man’s torso, above his collar bone. Not much more than a scratch between his neck and shoulder.

“A graze.” Sal replaced the jacket over the man’s shoulder. “You’re lucky, it missed everything important.” Like his giant head…and ears.

He didn’t want to dislike the kid, but—okay, yes. He wanted to dislike the kid. Dakota wasn’t part of Sal’s personal life, but that didn’t mean he liked the idea that someone else might be.

He’d seen Weber look at her when she wasn’t looking. Just like he’d seen her look at him.

The dog bounded back over to them and barked at Sal.

He stared it down. “Sit.”

Weber chuckled. “Nice try.” He raised his voice a little and said, “Neema, sietz.”

Ah. German commands. The dog planted her butt on the asphalt, ears up. Complete one hundred percent focus.

“It was worth a try, at least.”

She barked at him.

Weber chuckled again, then groaned.

O’Caran trotted over. “Ambulance is on its way.” He glanced around. “Where’s Pierce?”

“The truck,” Weber said. “They took her.”

“Terrence Crampton?”

“I think it was the same truck.” Weber glanced over at an ambulance pulling into the parking lot, followed by a sheriff’s department Jeep. “They grabbed her out of her motel room and stuffed her in the truck before I could catch up and stop them.”

And Josh had been shot for his trouble, for trying to save Dakota’s life.

“All right.” Sal nodded.

The woman might enjoy telling everyone who would listen that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, but they weren’t just words. It was the truth. Sal had seen her do it many times. He’d been with her on operations that took the whole team working together to get the job done. Sal knew what she was capable of. “She’ll hold her own until we find her.”

“They’re after revenge, remember?” Weber’s face had paled. Worried, or in pain? Or both? “They blew up my truck. We talked to Austin and now she gets kidnapped? It’s that retaliation she was talking about.”

Sal said, “If they wanted her dead they’d have killed her inside the room or on the street. Why take her with them only to put a bullet in her somewhere else?”

Josh closed his mouth, fire in his eyes. So he didn’t like what Sal said. Did Sal care? Not especially.

“She’ll hold her own,” he repeated.

Josh looked away. The kid needed to not forget that Sal knew Dakota a whole lot better than he did after one day. The EMTs came over and helped him into their ambulance.