Dangerous to Know (7 page)

 

He stopped on the track. Gemma halted beside him.

“What's the matter?” She followed his gaze and he watched a stunned expression dawn on her face.

“What on
earth
?”

“It looks as if we've had visitors.” He scanned the area around the tents. There didn't appear to be any signs of life. Chances were whoever had done this was long gone.

Jerome walked cautiously towards the camp with Gemma at his side.

“Look at the mess! I'm so glad you had all the camera equipment with you.” Gemma dropped her bag down near the rocks and surveyed the damage with her hands on her hips. He could see distress and bewilderment in the droop of her shoulders.

Their food supplies had been emptied out of the cool bag and lay scattered all over the hillside. Both tents had been slashed, the canvas sagging in jagged holes from the metal frames.

“My clothes!” Gemma let out a wail and rushed forward, picking up items of underwear from the grass.

“The shotgun's gone.” He followed her around the site gathering garments and possessions as he went. Anger burned deep inside him, growing more intense with every item he retrieved from the hillside.

She snagged a toothbrush and face cloth from a gorse bush and then stood up. “What are we going to do?” she asked, a quiver in her voice.

Jerome raked his hand through his hair and tried to think. “We can't stay here tonight. The tents are wrecked.”

Gemma sank down on to one of the rocks with her belongings clutched to her chest. “But that would mean they'd won.”

“Not necessarily. We can get the camp equipment packed up and stowed in the car, walk back and get the pictures.” He had no doubt about who was behind the destruction: Gerald Shakespeare and his goons.

“Do you think the car is okay?”

He hadn't thought about the car. “If they want us out of here, it wouldn't make much sense to wreck the transport.”

Gemma frowned. “I don't think these people are exactly acting logically, but perhaps you're right. We should go and check the car anyway.”

He dismantled the tents while Gemma packed up the equipment. He hoped his car hadn't been damaged or, even worse, burnt out. It wasn't a new model or even a particularly classic car, but he was fond of it. He threw the tent pegs into the bag and pulled up the drawstring with savage intent.

With any luck, his mobile would get some signal from the spot they'd left the car. He needed to let his ranger friends know about the vandalism and there were a few other calls he intended to place, too.

“Okay, I think that's everything.” Gemma stowed the last pot inside a rucksack.

“We'll take what we can for this last trip. Anything we can't manage we'll hide on the edge of the forest to take down with us after we've got the last of the photographs.”

“Good plan.” Gemma shouldered one of the bags, a look of grim determination on her small face.

Jerome smiled at her. She really was one heck of a girl.

The kind of girl he'd always dreamt of finding. Someone who cared about the same things he did. Someone who loved the outdoors and who was prepared to take the rough with the smooth. Someone he could share his life with…

The last thought gave him a jolt. He hefted the heaviest of the bags onto his back and set off along the track back towards the car. Gemma's boots crunched over the pebbles and twigs as she followed behind him.

To his relief his car appeared to be undamaged. He had been expecting to find the tires slashed or the paintwork scratched. Something white under the windscreen wipers caught his eye, though. Gemma joined him as he retrieved a folded piece of paper.

“
'Take a hint from a friend and go home'
,” She read aloud, peering over the curve of his arm.

Jerome gritted his teeth as he popped open the boot ready to load in the backpacks. “I need to ring some people. Could you finish putting some of these things away, please, Gemma?”

He heaved the heaviest bag into the boot. She looked a little surprised at his request, but moved to stow the camping equipment away. Jerome moved away from the car to the far side of the track where the reception was better and dialed.

* * * *

Gemma pushed the last of the bags they'd carried down the track into place and closed the boot. Jerome paced up and down on the far side of the road while he talked into his phone. He was too far away for her to hear what he said, but the tension in his stance and the rigidity of his shoulders told her he wasn't happy.

She leaned back against the car, feeling the heat from the sun-warmed metal against the backs of her thighs. Her shoulders and legs ached from the unaccustomed exercise. She longed for a hot bath.

Jerome continued to talk and pace. Gemma wondered what he planned to do once they were finished with the evening shoot. It would be late by the time they walked back down the trail, not an ideal time to face a long drive home when they would both be tired and hungry.

“Okay, I've notified the Forestry Commission guys and they'll keep an eye open for anyone trying to access this track.” Jerome pushed his mobile inside his jacket pocket as he strode back towards her.

“What do we do now?” Gemma looked at her watch. There were still a couple of hours to go before they needed to be back at the badger sett.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

Her stomach rumbled in response. She had been so caught up with the destruction of the camp she hadn't realized how long it had been since they'd eaten anything.

“Now you mention it, I'm starving. But what can we do? All the food was spoiled.” There was some packet soup left, but that was all she could remember. The last of their bread and cheese had been strewn all over the ground.

“Jump in the car. We'll head down to the café for something.” He opened the driver's door and slid into the seat.

Gemma climbed into the passenger side. “Aren't you worried that the people who trashed the tents might see us?”

He started the engine and reversed the car as she fastened her seat belt. “I'm kind of hoping they do. Gerald will think we're on our way home, which is what he wants. I think all this intimidation is intended to keep me at a distance while he tries to win over support for his plans.”

They started down the bumpy track. Gemma gripped the sides of her seat to steady herself against the pitch and roll. “I can't see how he thinks he's ever going to get permission for the type of development he wants anyway. There are so many opponents; you, the National Trust, local conservation groups and the ramblers.”

“Even so, the hitch is that Maggie's Fell isn't in the trust area. It's right on the edge. I believe Gerald is attempting to convince the council and the government to allow a small ‘green' development to begin with. That's how he operates. Then before you can blink, everything changes and the site is gone.”

Jerome steered the car off the track and back on to the road that led back to the café. Gemma noticed a dark green Forestry Commission Land Rover amongst the trees a little further along the road. She felt comforted by the sight.

The café was busy with walkers and tourists making the most of the bright September weather. The sky's reflection in the water of the lake sparkled blue in the sunshine. Small children chased one another between the tables and benches on the lakeshore while ducks begged for bread from the diners.

A family vacated one of the tables as they approached the café. Gemma took a seat while Jerome went to fetch a menu from inside. She closed her eyes for a moment and relaxed in the gentle warmth of the autumn sunshine. Her shoulders ached from tension and from where she'd carried the heavy bags down the hillside.

“Gemma?” Jerome's voice vibrated soft and husky in her ear.

Startled, she opened her eyes and smiled an apology at him. “I was just enjoying the sun.”

He handed her a menu and sat down heavily on the seat opposite her. “Listen, if you'd rather not go back up to the sett tonight, you don't have to. I can book you in at a guest house here in the village.” His brow creased in concern.

“You made that offer before,” she reminded him. “My answer's still the same. Besides, I want to see the badgers.”

Laugh lines creased at the corners of Jerome's eyes at her reply. “Okay, but don't say I didn't offer you an opt-out clause.”

Gemma's breath caught at the back of her throat. Why did Jerome have to be so sexy? When he smiled her stomach flipped and her pulse raced. She concentrated on the menu without seeing any of the print.

Friends. She was just
friends
with him. Anything more was too scary, especially as he'd made it clear that was all he was prepared to offer her.

“What would you like?”

She felt her body heat at his question.

“To eat,” he added, almost as if he had read the thought that had flitted through her mind.

Gemma did her best to wither him with a look, but he continued to smile nonchalantly at her while he waited for a response.

“Fish and chips, please.”

He collected her menu and strode back inside the café to place their order. Gemma blew out a breath and leaned back in her seat, glad of the chance to get her thoughts back into order.

“Good afternoon, my dear. All alone today?” Gerald Shakespeare appeared in front of her, looking dapper and out of place amongst the brightly clad tourists.

“Jerome is inside.” She wriggled upright in her seat, looking toward the café entrance and hoping Jerome would reappear.

“Cutting your holiday short? Such a shame now the weather has improved.” Gerald flashed a benign smile that failed to reach his eyes.

“Yes, the sunshine is lovely, isn't it? Maggie's Fell looked beautiful this morning.”

Gerald's smile faded into a scowl. “A word to the wise, dearie. You and the tree-hugger would do well to avoid that particular area.”

Gemma swallowed.

“I do hope that wasn't a threat, Shakespeare,” Jerome drawled as he placed two glasses of Coke on the table.

Gerald raised an eyebrow. “Merely exchanging pleasantries with the young lady, Mayer.”

“Pleasant isn't a word one often associates with you.” Jerome sat down and stretched his long legs out in front of him as if he had all the time in the world to chat with Gerald.

“I understand that you have rather misguidedly challenged me to a live debate?”

Gemma sat up in her seat at Gerald's words to see Jerome's reaction.

“Yeah, I think it might be interesting for the public to hear your plans.” Jerome lazily plucked a tiny piece of lint from the knee of his jeans.

Gerald's complexion turned the color of tawny port. “Don't think you can pull any tricks on me, Mayer.”

“Really, Gerald, what kind of trick could I possibly pull on an old hand like you?” Jerome's eyes hardened and he met Gerald's gaze full-on, forcing the older man to splutter in fury at the implied insult.

“Just watch yourself, nature boy. One of these days you'll come unstuck.” Gerald spun away from them, almost cannoning into the teenage waitress carrying their meals.

“I don't think he's very happy.” Jerome nodded his thanks to the girl as she slid their plates on to the table.

“When did you organize the debate? Was that one of your phone calls?” Gemma picked up her cutlery. She cut into her breaded fish and watched as a plume of steam curled into the air.

Jerome sprinkled vinegar over his chips. “I thought I'd rattle old Geraldo's cage a little. I take it from the frown on your face that you don't approve?”

“I'm not certain provoking him is going to work in your favor.”

The blue intensity of his stare hit her.

“In what way?”

Gemma stammered a little in her effort to explain herself. “I just mean, if it's live, what if it goes wrong?”

“You mean what if he wins?” Jerome scowled.

Gemma sighed. “You know how slippery he is. He could distort things. Make himself look good and you look bad.”

Jerome dug into his fish, stabbing at it with his knife.

She sensed her comments hadn't been what Jerome had expected to hear. Perhaps he thought she wasn't being supportive.

She ate her meal with a diminished appetite. Jerome didn't speak again, but instead appeared to be deep in thought as he finished his food.

The crowds of tourists had dwindled by the time the waitress reappeared to collect the plates. A light breeze sprang up from the direction of the water, sending tiny wavelets rippling on to the stony shore.

“We should head back. The badgers usually come out at dusk. We need to be in place so they don't get our scent on the wind.” Jerome picked up his car keys from the surface of the table.

Gemma rose from her seat to follow him. Earlier she'd been excited at the prospect of seeing badgers in the wild and defying Gerald's henchmen by remaining on the Fell. But now Jerome seemed to be in a bad mood, while Gerald's appearance at the café had been disquieting to say the least.

Jerome put the radio on for the journey back up the mountain. Gemma listened to the football results without any interest. All the time she felt acutely aware of the man sitting next to her. She wished she knew what Jerome thought, if he was annoyed with her for speaking out about the debate.

He pulled into the same spot where he had parked before and Gemma pulled her coat from behind her seat. It felt cooler out now the breeze had started to blow. After the previous night she'd seen how fast the conditions could change.

“Are you ready to go?” His eyes burnt into hers.

“Ready when you are.” Her pulse pounded unevenly in her ears.

Without missing a beat his lips brushed hers, sending her senses soaring and her body tingling.

“For luck,” he said, and climbed out of the car to collect the camera equipment from the boot.

Gemma took a moment to collect her thoughts before she scrambled out after him. Half of her wanted to grab him and repeat the kiss, while the sensible, sane half of her wanted to scream at him for ignoring the ‘no-kissing' conversation they'd had the previous night.

“We need to go up above the sett and down into the hide we found. Then we should be able to get in position without them sensing our presence,” Jerome instructed as they made their way back along the rabbit path.

As quietly as she could, Gemma settled into the hollow amongst the bracken. From their position they had a clear view of the entrance to the sett. Jerome primed his cameras and they settled in to wait. The wind blew across the hillside, carrying their scent away from the badgers as dusk began to fall.

Gemma had closed her eyes, feeling quite sleepy when a warning touch from Jerome alerted her.

An adult badger emerged from the entrance of the sett. Lifting its head, the black-and-white animal sniffed the air to check for any intruders. Gemma held her breath.

Jerome fired off his camera, taking several shots in quick succession as the animal explored the ground around the entrance. Then it was Gemma's turn to nudge Jerome as three smaller badgers tumbled from the entrance. She held the spare camera ready as he fired off shots of the animals snuffling around the forest floor.

The light was almost gone when the badgers finally disappeared from sight. Gemma stretched her cramped arms and legs as Jerome stowed his film equipment back into his bag.

“Wow. That was just fantastic.” She smiled at him, her happiness at seeing the animals in their natural habitat overcoming her discomfort.

“I should have some good shots off the three cameras. It's difficult without using flash or extra lighting, but I really wanted natural shots.” Jerome stood up. Gemma felt a sizzle of heat bridging the narrow gap between them and took a hasty step backward.

Too late, her heel skidded on the loose surface and she started to fall. Jerome caught her hands before she hit the ground, steadying her back into an upright position.

Jerome met her gaze for what seemed like the longest time. Gemma's hands trembled where he still held her.

“We need to get back to the car before it gets even darker. We can collect those last few bags we stashed in the bushes near the campsite on the way.” He released his hold so abruptly that she rocked on her feet. “Come on, let's go.”

Stunned by his withdrawal, Gemma hoisted her bag on to her back and followed the path highlighted by his torch. She wished she could read his thoughts, certain he'd been about to kiss her.