Every Step She Takes (Who's Watching Now Book 2) (5 page)

Careless Journalist Devoured by Rabid Wolf

Wary brown eyes and long, floppy ears appeared. The giggle that escaped her lips held an edge of hysteria. She clamped a hand over her mouth as the dog froze. Not a vicious woman-killer, after all. Trembling, the stray from the lake belly crawled to the spilled trail mix and gulped it down.

Mindful of the pack, Grace squatted and held out her hand. “It’s okay, baby. I’m not going to hurt you.”

The dog sniffed her fingers and backed up a step. Ribs showed beneath matted fur with each breath the poor animal took. Mostly brown with patches of dirty white, the dog was probably some sort of spaniel mix. If it wanted to follow her, she didn’t mind having company. In fact, she welcomed it.

“Time to get moving, baby. Let’s go.” Standing, she trudged up the trail. Her new companion followed at a cautious distance. “Good boy.” She glanced back at the scrawny animal, tongue hanging, brown gaze focused on her backpack. He reminded her of the coyote in the old roadrunner cartoon. “I’ll call you Wylie. How does that sound?”

Rolling her eyes, she shrugged her aching shoulders. If someone had told her a week ago she’d be reduced to talking to a stray in the middle of the Alaskan wilderness, she would have said they had more than one screw loose. It just went to show—

Bright light reflecting off a shiny surface blinded her. She froze in the path then dove for cover behind the nearest tree. The dog disappeared in a flash.

Less than fifty feet away, Travis tilted his head and lifted an aluminum water bottle to his lips. Setting it on the rock beside him, he took a bite out of a sandwich. His head turned slowly, eyes scanning the trail behind him. Grace stopped breathing. Finally he looked away, a smile curving the edges of his firm lips.

Drawing much needed air into her lungs, she sagged against the tree as her heartbeat slowed. She’d thought for sure he’d seen her. She almost wished he had. Confronting him would be a relief. Almost. If he didn’t have a sudden personality warp, hack her into pieces and bury her body in a shallow grave.

Shoving the sandwich wrapper into the backpack, he hefted it onto his shoulders. “If you get tired of crouching behind that tree, feel free to join me.” As he headed up the trail, his cheerful whistle drifted on the breeze.

* * * *

It was a freaking three-ring circus, or a scene out of one of those old Three Stooges movies. He lowered the binoculars and climbed back down to the trail. Travis Barnett led the parade with the hot little journalist closing the gap between them and a dog—
a dog for Christ’s sake
—following her.

It had been a shock when he’s seen her on the plane, laughing and chatting with Barnett. Grace Hanover—a name from the past. Not his past, exactly, but close enough. The years rolled back, and all the old memories flooded to the surface. The pain of loss hit hard and fresh, but he’d tamped down his shock and got his emotions under control by the time they’d officially met. She didn’t have a clue who he was. Didn’t have a clue he’d followed every step she’d taken for years, knowing one day the time for justice would be right.

But that time wasn’t now, despite the fact she’d practically landed in his lap. He had a job to do, and he wouldn’t let personal feelings intrude. Who Grace Hanover had been—what she’d caused all those years ago—didn’t matter at the moment. He forced back the memories and addressed his wandering attention to the situation at hand.

He was a
professional,
not some extra in a sitcom. Who would have thought he’d have to get in line to find Sutton? If it wasn’t a matter of pride, he’d turn around and head straight back to the lower forty-eight and
screw
Estrada. But a contract was a contract, and word would get out damn quick if he failed to close the deal.

Lifting his pack, he grunted as he shrugged it onto his shoulders. Grace Hanover was a joke, a two-bit reporter, but Barnett wasn’t. A quick internet search on Guthrie French’s computer had turned up plenty about the man. He’d obviously been hired to reel in Sutton. Barnett was good at what he did, but this time he’d fail. He’d let the former SEAL do the work of tracking their quarry before taking out Sutton, Barnett, and Grace.
One, two, three—pop, pop, pop.
Score settled. Out here in the middle of freaking nowhere, chances were the bodies would never be found.

“How long have you known I was behind you?”

Travis glanced over as Grace fell into step beside him. “Only the last mile or so. I stopped to eat so you could catch up.”

She snorted. “Big of you.”

A grin stretched his lips. “I thought so. Who’s your malnourished friend?”

Grace shot a look over her shoulder. “That’s Wylie. He seems to like me.”

Travis stopped and turned to face her. His gaze wandered from the top of her head down across her ribbed tank top and running shorts to the tips of her tennis shoes. Her cheeks heated as the seconds ticked by.

“The mutt has good taste.”

“I fed him pretzels.”

“Then he’s probably yours for life.”

She didn’t answer, refused to even blink as his laser blue gaze locked onto hers. Just in the last day, his light tan had darkened, emphasizing the startling clarity of his eyes. His jaw was shadowed with dark stubble. When his lips parted, it was more a baring of teeth than a smile.

“You plan to explain why you’re following me?”

“I’d rather not.”

“If I thought for a minute it was because you couldn’t resist my questionable charms, I’d be thrilled.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “However, I’m not that deluded, so spill it.”

She thought about going with the excuse he’d handed her. It wouldn’t be a hardship to convince him she suffered from a terminal case of lust. But she drew the line at sleeping with a man, however tempting, just to get a story. “Why don’t
you
tell
me
why you’re pretending to be long lost friends with Casey Sutton?”

Closing his eyes, he swore softly. “I should have known you weren’t up here to write a travel article. I suspected as much but hoped I was wrong.”

She scowled at his self-pitying expression. “I’m not going to go away and let you write
my
story.”

“Jesus, is that what you think, that I’m a rival reporter?”

“Isn’t it the truth?”

“Hell, no! I’m here to haul Sutton’s sorry ass back to Seattle and hand him over to the authorities. Since he blew his cover, there could be a dozen newshounds on their way to the lodge. And reporters are the least of my worries.”

She fisted her hands on her hips. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean Estrada undoubtedly has a man headed up here to eliminate his problem.”

Her stomach turned over. “Surely not.”

“
You
found out where Sutton was hiding. Don’t kid yourself a Colombian drug lord doesn’t have a few connections.”

“Why don’t you suspect me of being Estrada’s hit man—er, hit woman?”

He laughed, a deep throated belly roll that sent tingles down her spine. Even when he was making fun of her, she couldn’t deny the heat sizzling between them. She wasn’t attracted to macho types, but this one pushed all her erogenous buttons.

“It isn’t
that
farfetched.”

“Honey, you stand out like neon on a palette of pastels. Not a desirable trait in a hit—woman.” His shoulders shook.

“Since being a hit woman isn’t at the top of my wish list for career moves, I’ll take that as a compliment.” Her eyes narrowed. “And don’t call me honey.”

“Sorry. Look, Grace, I’m going to find Sutton and get him out of here as fast as humanly possible. Hopefully without bloodshed, either his or mine. Your best bet is to turn around and head straight back to the lodge.”

She marched up the trail then glanced over her shoulder. “Not going to happen.”

He grabbed her arm. With a low warning growl, the dog shot forward and clamped onto his leg. Travis yelled and released her. “Call him off!”

“Let go, Wylie. That’s it. Good boy.”

The dog crouched on the trail, his attention focused on Travis. Kneeling beside him, Grace stroked his quivering back.

“Jesus, he ripped my jeans.”

“Are you okay?”

Pushing the heavy denim up over his calf, he prodded the muscle. “It’s sore, but thanks to my boot, the skin isn’t broken.” He glared at the dog. “A good thing, since God only knows if he’s had his rabies shots.”

“I’m glad you aren’t hurt, but it isn’t his fault. You shouldn’t have grabbed me.”

Travis straightened and ran a hand through his short hair. “You’re right. I apologize.” He stared down at her. “I’m concerned about your welfare. Estrada and his hired thugs aren’t people you want to mess with.”

“You don’t even know for sure he sent someone up here.” The dog’s coat was rough beneath her hand. She buried her fingers in his fur, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on her. “Of course I don’t want to put my life on the line for a story, but the risk here is fifty-fifty at best.”

“More like eighty-twenty, and not in our favor. You’ll slow me down.”

She stood. “If I do, just leave me in the dust. I can manage on my own.”

“Then that’s what you’ll have to do. I’m not taking you with me.”

Her heart plummeted to her sneakers. She’d been counting on traveling with Travis. Maybe if she showed him she wasn’t a liability… “I won’t go back.”

He stared at her for so long she squirmed uncomfortably. She had no idea what he was thinking.
Probably weighing his chances with the dog if he leaves me tied to a tree.

“Suit yourself. See you, Grace.”

Damn right he’d see her. Behind him every step of the way.

Two hours later, she was beginning to wonder how long she could maintain the pace. Every time he glanced back, he walked a little bit faster. Gasping for breath and wiping sweat from her eyes, she forced herself into a run as the distance between them increased. The pack slapped against her back with every jarring step.

Is he trying to kill me?

When her toe hit a rock, she went down with a cry. Dirt and gravel embedded in her scraped knees. Rising on shaking legs, she ignored the blood running down her legs and stumbled forward.

Wylie whined and pressed close. Grace resisted the urge to whimper right along with him.

Ahead, Travis stopped and turned. His eyes darkened as he stared at her.

Biting her lip, Grace kept coming.

His shoulders lifted and fell on an exhaled breath. “Stop. Just stop.”

Her fists clenched. “No.”

“You win.” His eyes closed for a moment as he pressed fingers to his temples. “We’ll clean out those abrasions then move on together.”

She swallowed and blinked back tears. “Thank you. I swear I won’t get in your way. I won’t be any trouble.”

His pack hit the ground with a thump. After digging inside, he pulled out a first aid kit. His expression was closed when his gaze met hers.

“You’re nothing
but
trouble. Let’s hope we both live to regret this. It sure as hell beats the alternative.”

* * * *

Hunger forced Travis to stop for the night. He’d set a grueling pace, hoping Grace would give up and go back to the lodge. Instead, she’d stuck with him step for step, and she hadn’t complained. Not once. Not even after she’d fallen. She was probably sorer than hell, and he felt like a bastard for pushing her. Knowing he was the reason she’d shredded the skin off her knees made him sick to his stomach. Despite the very real danger they’d come face to face with a killer before he located Sutton, Grace was safer with him than she would be alone. At the end of the day, he didn’t really have a choice.

“Let me get that.” He grabbed the backpack and eased it off her shoulders then leaned it against a towering cedar tree in the small clearing about fifty feet from the trail. Nearby, the creek they’d followed pooled at the base of a short waterfall before tumbling down the hillside toward the valley below.

Grace stretched from side to side, grimacing. “I don’t know what has more appeal, a quick dip in the stream to wash off the filth or something to eat.”

“We can clean up while the food cooks.” His hand stilled on the strap of his pack. “You do have food, don’t you?”

She nodded. “Berta gave me packets of freeze-dried stuff. I didn’t bring a stove. I wanted to travel light, and I figured I could share yours.”

Pulling out the ultra-light, single burner stove and an aluminum pan, he set them on a flat rock. “You were so sure I’d share?”

Her smile looked tired. “I can be fairly convincing when I try.”

His gut clenched. “I bet. I’ll start some water boiling.” He eyed her drooping shoulders. “Why don’t you just relax. After that marathon hike, you deserve a break.”

“If you’re sure I can’t help, I’ll go clean up. Take whatever food you want out of my pack.”

Travis filled the pan with water and lit the stove. When he pulled a packet of beef stew out of her backpack, he couldn’t help noticing she wasn’t carrying a tent.
Does she expect to share mine?
Just thinking about snuggling up with Grace in the one-man tent he’d brought gave him an instant hard on.

“Jesus.” He rubbed the back of his neck and tried to will his body into submission. He was up here to find Sutton and get the man out of Alaska, not to have a vacation romp in the sack with the most tantalizing woman he’d met in a very long time. Even if the timing didn’t suck, he was positive Grace Hanover would turn him inside out and leave him hanging out to dry when their fling ended. Best not to even think about the possibility. Best to keep their relationship strictly casual.

With the stew heating, he grabbed a bar of soap and a towel and headed down to the creek—and rocked to a stop. Grace floated in the pool, eyes closed, a tiny smile curving her lips. She wore nothing but a pair of purple panties and a matching jog bra. The underwear covered more than your average bathing suit, but his body wasn’t convinced. His erection returned in full force.
Terrific.

The dog gave him a narrow eyed look when he sat down on a rock and removed his boots, followed by his socks and T-shirt.