Pippa
“Go. I’ll be fine.”
Already the hovering is driving me insane, as does the feeling of being restricted.
I didn’t mind yesterday, was able to catch up on a few episodes of a Netflix show I’ve been watching, read a couple of chapters of a book I’d been anticipating, and had at least three naps.
Sloane stuck around again yesterday, keeping me company in everything but my naps, but today she’s back at the garage. There was an older computer at the High Mountain Trackers office Jonas offered, so we could at least get Sloane back working on the website and have Barkley come back to finish up security. I suspect it was Sully’s idea. He just helped load the desktop into my pickup, which Sloane is driving for now.
Another reason why I’m starting to feel a bit claustrophobic. I have no means of transportation anywhere with my rig still in the hands of the FBI and now my pickup missing as well. Sure, Sully offered to drive me wherever I want to go, but that’s not freedom, and now he’s wanting me to come to the main house with him so I don’t have to be alone while he works.
Guess he forgets I actually like being alone and I haven’t had a lot of opportunity lately.
“You sure?” he asks for the third time.
My pained eye roll is accompanied by a tortured groan.
“Really? How can I put this in clearer terms? I. Am. Fine. And if you don’t leave in the next two minutes, I may actually consider inflicting bodily harm, and then Agent Powell will really have something to pin on me.”
Sully is already treading on dangerous ground with that smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Then he opens said mouth.
“Don’t think the FBI wastes time with assault, Pippa.”
Good God, what do I have to do to get the man out of my hair? I squeeze my eyes shut when I feel the burn of frustrated tears. If I let him see those he’ll never leave.
I hear him take a step closer and then his lips are on my forehead.
“Okay, Honey. I’ll go, but promise me you’ll call if you need anything.”
“I will.” If I absolutely have no other choice, but I don’t say that out loud.
He hooks a finger under my chin and I lift my face, opening my eyes. He looks into them for a moment and then focuses on my lips, right before he kisses me sweetly. Next, he walks out of the door and I sigh a breath of relief.
All I want is some alone time to see if I’m still limber enough to shave my legs, which I haven’t done in a while. Maybe give myself a pedicure if I can reach my toes. It’s warm outside—flip-flop weather—and right now my feet would scare away small children. I’d also love to not have to worry about bodily sounds. I read online my innards are rearranging themself to make room for the baby, which could be why I’ve felt gassy the past few days. It’s getting painful to try and hold it in, and I feel like we haven’t quite reached that phase where you can fart in front of each other without concern.
It’s one of the drawbacks of being in an expedited relationship, things don’t have a chance to develop organically.
I’m also acutely aware, before too long, I’ll have zero privacy when this baby announces herself, but until then I’d like to limit the emission of bodily gases, fluids, or solids to times I can do so while maintaining a little modesty.
Forty-five minutes later, I walk out the back door, aiming for a trail running along the back meadow I spotted from the kitchen window yesterday. I believe it leads toward Fisher River on the east side of the ranch.
I filled my water bottle, packed a sandwich, some fruit, and my phone in my small backpack, and left a note for Sully on the kitchen table. I wish I had my camera, but it’s stored in the motorhome, along with most of my gear. My phone has a decent camera built-in should I encounter something picture-worthy.
The stifling heat from earlier this week has been replaced with infinitely more tolerable spring temperatures. Much more suited for hiking, not that I intend to go far.
I suck in the mountain air as I make my way along the fence line, feeling much better right away. Out here I feel like I can breathe, recharge my batteries, which have been running very low. As I exercise my muscles and fill my lungs, I do my best to clear my mind.
A small herd of horses grazes along the fence up ahead and a few raise their heads when they notice my approach. One of them breaks away from the group and comes to check me out, sticking his head over the fence. I hold out my hand, palm exposed, and smile as soft lips explore my skin, maybe hoping for a treat. Not finding anything, he pulls back, snorts as he shakes his head, and turns back to the herd as I continue on my way, following the trail into the woods.
The river is wider than I thought, divided into separate streams meandering around a number of rock plateaus forming elongated islands in the water. Every time the sun appears from behind a cloud, the light hits the surface, turning the streams into silver ribbons.
It’s beautiful here. Peaceful. I kick off my runners and roll up my pant legs. The water isn’t too deep and I stick a toe in to test the temperature. It’s a little chilly, not cold, and I carefully make my way across to the first island. A massive log, which I’m sure washed downstream at some point, got hung up between two rocks. A perfect place to sit and have my lunch. The view from the middle of the river is stunning, no matter in what direction I’m looking.
Fresh air makes my simple cheese sandwich and grapes taste so much better. I can see myself coming back here often, maybe with Sully, and once this little nugget is born with her too.
I’m about to get up when I hear my phone buzz in my pack.
“Hey—”
“Where the hell are you?”
Sully
“Want to try that again?” she snaps.
I groan, lifting a hand to squeeze the back of my neck. I need to get a grip on my temper and catch my breath.
When I was walking back to the house from the barn, I saw the black SUV coming up the drive and turning toward the cabins. I broke out in a run to try and beat them to the door, but they were already banging on it by the time I got there.
“Honey, where did you go?”
“I left a note.”
“Which says you went for a hike, but not where.”
My eyes slide to the two agents standing in my living room. Powell didn’t say anything other than they need to speak to Pippa and it can’t wait. I have a bad feeling about this. I need to know where she is so I can go get her.
“Fillippa?” I prompt.
“I took the trail behind the cabins down to the river. I was about to head back,” she finally responds.
That’s at least a thirty-or-forty-minute walk. I can feel Powell’s eyes burning in my back as I turn to look out the kitchen window.
“Stay put,” I tell her. “I’m coming to get you.”
“That’s ridicu—”
“Please…stay put. I’ll be right there.”
Maybe it’s something in my voice but instead of more objections, Pippa’s response is suddenly a subdued okay.
Tucking my phone in my pocket, I turn on my heel and head for the door. It’ll take me less than ten minutes to get to the river if I grab one of the ranch’s ATVs.
“Where is she?” Powell asks, blocking my way.
“If you step aside, I can go get her.”
“Why don’t you tell us where she is and we’ll go get her,” he counters, stepping into my space.
I notice Wolff closing in behind him.
“Over my dead body,” I grind out.
I really don’t fucking like this guy, and I’m not about to let him blindside Pippa with whatever it is he so urgently needs to speak to her about.
“Don’t tempt me,” Powell growls, leaning forward.
Apparently, the feeling is mutual.
Luckily Wolff intervenes, pulling Powell back before it can get out of hand, which it will if the guy shoves his face any closer to mine.
“Let him go get her,” Wolff tells his fellow agent calmly.
I’ll be damned if I wait for Powell’s response, and reach past him for the front door.
Minutes later, I’m heading toward the trail on one of the quads I got from the shed on the far side of the ranch house. The trail Pippa took is one I use often in the summer if I want to do some fly fishing for trout, which the Fisher River is good for. I go later in the afternoon, after work, when the sun is low in the sky. It’s beautiful back there. Sometimes the old man joins me, but if Pippa likes it out there, maybe she wants to come along. Good fishing from the middle of June through September, so we could get a season in before the little one gets here.
I find her standing on one of the rocks in the middle of the river, her eyes on me as I clear the trees. With her running shoes in her hand, she starts wading toward me.
“What’s going on?” she asks when she’s within earshot.
“Agents Powell and Wolff showed up at the cabin looking for you,” I inform her.
“Did they say what they want?”
I shake my head before bending down to brush her lips.
“Powell is pretty intense though. He was ready to come look for you himself.”
Her shoulders pull up and her mouth tenses.
“Do you think they found anything? Are they gonna arrest me?”
I take her face in my hands.
“They may have, and I don’t think so.”
I hope I’m right about not taking Pippa in, but I get the feeling from Wolff he’s not as keen on Pippa as a suspect, as his colleague is. I’m pretty sure he would’ve indicated if an arrest was the purpose of their visit. Had that been the case, I don’t think he would’ve suggested letting me pick her up.
Still, my instincts tell me to get her on the back of the ATV and get her the hell away from here. Plenty of places I could hide her, but in the end that would make her look guilty when she isn’t.
She searches my eyes with hers before finally nodding sharply.
“Okay, then let’s go find out.”
Not sure what Wolff said to Powell while I was gone, but he’s not as aggressive with Pippa as he was with me. I’d say that’s a good thing, but there’s an underlying intensity I feel coming off the man that has me wonder if he’s simply lying in wait, ready to pounce.
“Yes, I’ve used the computer at the garage. Mostly to place orders, check my emails, stuff like that. I did try to set up a website but failed miserably, but Sully’s niece is working on that for me.”
Powell scribbles something in his notebook before returning his attention to Pippa.
“What about the computer here? Do you use that?”
“Not really. I have my laptop but that’s locked in my rig. Wait…I did use the one in the office once, with Sloane. We looked up a template for a list to print out.”
“What kind of list?”
“Uh, just…baby stuff.” She darts a glance my way. “That room is supposed to be turned into the nursery and we were just trying to sort out what we’d need.”
Fuck. I need to get my head in the game. I should’ve been working on clearing out that room already, maybe paint, but shit keeps happening. If we could have a week or two without any disruptions or surprises, we could get a ton done.
“What about you, Mr. Eckhart? Used the computer in your office recently? Or the one at the auto shop?”
“Neither. Never used the one at the garage and the last time I was on the one in here was probably a few months ago. I use either the desktop or my laptop in the office in the main house,” I reply, although I’m getting the sense he’s narrowing in on something. “Why are you asking?”
“We found some interesting evidence on both the computer we took from your house and the one from your wife’s business,” Powell explains.
“Interesting, how?” Pippa wants to know.
“Someone has been looking at the Fair Game Alliance, checking on some of the key people in the organization. Doing background checks. We discovered a ton of research on bear baiting, political opponents, but more interestingly, proponents. Like, for instance, Congresswoman Yokum, as well as her son Leroy,” Powell says smugly.
“Impossible.”
That’s gotta be a bluff of some kind, because no one else has access, at least to my computer. Unless…
“Oh no,” Pippa mutters, looking slightly concerned when she looks at me. “She said she was only looking into some stuff, I was gonna mention it. She wanted to help.”
Fucking hell. Guess who’s doing some investigating of her own.
“Are you suggesting Mr. Eckhart’s niece?” The disbelief in his voice is unmistakable.
“Sloane recently finished her degree in criminal justice,” Pippa explains as I contemplate strangling my niece. “Like I said, she was only trying to help. She has nothing to do with any of this.”
“If that’s the case, why would she hack into Ms. Watts’s social media accounts?”
“Marcie? I don’t understand.”
Neither do I. I have no fucking idea what goes on in Sloane’s head anymore. Hacking into social media is illegal. A criminal record could be a career killer for her before she even gets her feet on the ground.
Goddammit.
“How do you know Marcie Watts, Mrs. Eckhart?”
“She’s a friend. She was my realtor first, then got me involved with Fair Game, and ended up being a friend.”
“Would you happen to know where we could find Ms. Watts?”
“Marcie? I assume she’s home, or at the office. I don’t really know because she hasn’t been answering my calls all week. I left her a couple of messages, but she hasn’t gotten back to me.”
“When was the last time you saw her?” Wolff takes over in a more sympathetic tone.
“Last week sometime. No, I remember, it was on Thursday.”
I notice the two agents exchanging a look. Somehow, I sense we’ve come to the real reason for their visit and I don’t like where this is going.
“How did Ms. Watts seem at the time? Did she say anything about going away?”
Pippa turns to me with fear in her eyes. She can see it coming too.
“She mentioned something about this new spot on Lake Koocanoosa she found. She wanted to take her rig out there for the weekend.”
“Was she going alone? Going with someone?”
“She didn’t say. She left in a hurry.”
“Why in a hurry?”
At this point, he’s simply badgering her and I’ve had enough.
“What is this about?” I interrupt before he browbeats Pippa into saying or admitting something that might put her in a bad light.
Powell can’t resist the smug smile as he shocks the hell out of me and pulls the rug from under Pippa’s feet.
“Ms. Watts was reported missing on Tuesday and it sounds like your wife was one of the last persons to have seen her.”