Harlequin Intrigue, Box Set 1 of 2 (26 page)

“What's the purple one for?”

She shook her head and stepped to the door. “You said you wanted to ask the townspeople if they've seen Calvin. Now's your chance. Let's go.”

* * *

A
S
J
AKE
WALKED
down the wooden boardwalk along the main street with Faye, he couldn't help thinking Mystic Glades would have made the perfect old town in a spaghetti Western movie. Well, minus the oak trees and occasional palms that seemed to fill every space of green between the shops and homes. But the buildings were all wood, like an Old West town, with a wooden sidewalk instead of a paved one. And the stores bore fanciful names such as Callahan's Watering Hole directly across the street from Faye's shop, and Stuffed to the Gills. Jake had expected that one to be a seafood restaurant. But Faye told him it was a taxidermy business. Beside it were Bubba's Take or Trade—a general store of sorts—and Gators and Taters, the only restaurant in town.

“Where is everyone?” he asked. They hadn't passed a single soul since leaving her shop. And there hadn't been any customers in her store the entire time he'd been there.

“Most are at work, in Naples or other places. As you can tell there's not a lot of opportunity to earn a living right here. The few shops we have, like mine, are popular mostly on weekends.”

“If everyone's at work right now, then where are we going?”

“SBO, where the few people in town at this time of morning hang out.”

Feeling completely out of his element, he followed her as she crossed the dirt road to the other side. “SBO?”

She pointed to the gold lettering on the dark-tinted floor-to-ceiling window that formed the front wall of the building in front of them and went inside.

“Swamp Buggy Outfitters.” Jake read the words on the glass. “What the hell is a swamp buggy?” He shook his head and hurried in after her.

The answer to that question met him as soon as he stepped inside. A dune buggy on steroids rested on top of a man-made mountain of rock ten feet from the door. The tires were enormous and just about as tall as Jake. The body of the buggy was a collection of steel pipes with a flat steel platform resting on top. The engine was secured beneath the platform between the two front tires. Metal steps would assist the passengers to the bench seats on top of the platform, just behind the driver's seat. A dark green vinyl tarp attached to metal roll bars shaded the seats. And every inch of the monster was painted in brown-and-green camouflage. Jake had never seen anything like it.

“It can be yours for thirty-six five.”

Jake turned around and had to look up to meet the eyes of the man speaking to him. He had a reddish-brown beard at least a foot long and a bushy mustache that curled at the ends. The top of his head was bald.

“You in the market for a buggy?” the man said.

“What exactly would someone do with it?”

He laughed. “Faye did say you weren't from around here.” He waved up at the buggy. “That's about the only way to get through some of the more marshy areas of the Everglades, without worrying about stepping on a gator. You're too high to worry about much of anything up on that platform. Of course if it gets too swampy you have to switch to a canoe or kayak, or even an airboat. Got plenty of canoes and kayaks if you're interested. Only got one airboat and that's mine. Got an ATV, too, but again, that's mine. Of course, everyone borrows it around here from time to time, so it more or less belongs to the town.”

Jake looked past the buggy to the canoes hanging on the back wall. Some were suspended from the ceiling. The shop wasn't all that large, but every inch was crammed full of just about everything you'd need outdoors, including tents, sleeping bags and one entire wall of fishing poles. “I'm surprised you don't have hunting rifles in here, too.”

“I would but there wouldn't be any point. Too much competition.”

“Competition?”

“Locked and Loaded, the gun store at the end of the street.”

“Ah.” Jake hadn't seen that store, but he hadn't traveled the entire length of the street, either. He held out his hand. “I'm Jake Young, as you already know. I'm a...friend of Faye's.” He looked past the man to where Faye stood near a tent display, speaking to a group of about ten men sitting on folding chairs. All of them were nearing sixty years of age, or more.

The man shook his hand in a tight grip that made Jake want to wince.

“Buddy Johnson. And from what I hear, you and Faye are a bit more than friends.” He winked and slapped Jake on the back.

He coughed and stumbled forward a few feet.

Buddy laughed and waved for him to follow him over to the others. “Come on. Faye sent me to get you.”

Jake suffered through the round of introductions. He'd never met so many Bubbas and Joes in one place before. There was no chance he'd keep them straight. When the introductions were done, he put his arm around Faye's shoulders and tucked her against his side. She put her arm around his waist, much to the delight of some of the men who grinned and whispered to each other.

Faye waved toward two of them. “Joe and Bubba said they may have seen the man you're looking for, honey. Bubba, tell Jake what you told me.”

Heat flashed through him at her easy use of the endearment and the way her fingers absently stroked his side. This woman was dangerous in so many ways.

The man she'd called Bubba scratched the white stubble on his jaw before replying. “Two days ago, I was out near Croc Landing when I saw a guy back in the trees and palmettos. Medium build, short brown hair, about five-eight or nine. I remember him because he had a backpack but no gun that I could see. I figured he was an idiot tourist with no common sense and a lousy sense of direction. I was going to see if he needed help finding his way back to wherever he came from, but as soon as he saw me he ducked behind a tree.” He shrugged. “Obviously he didn't want my help.”

“Where's Croc Landing?” Jake asked.

“Southwest of here, about six miles,” Faye said. “Joe, you saw the same man just yesterday, right?”

“Yep. The clothing matched what Bubba said earlier before your Jake came over here—jeans and a dark blue button-up shirt.” Joe adjusted the faded orange-and-black Miami Marlins baseball cap on his head. “About four clicks south of where Bubba saw him. Deep in the marsh. I figured the same as Bubba, that the feller was lost. But he took off as soon as he saw me. Definitely didn't want help.”

Faye smoothed her hand up Jake's chest. “That has to be Calvin. If someone else were lost out this far there'd have been a story on the news, maybe a missing tourist from an airboat tour. But I haven't heard of anything like that.”

He covered her hand with his to maintain his sanity. Her warm fingers were practically burning a hole through his shirt and had him wanting to pull her behind the tent and kiss her senseless.

She winked, obviously enjoying his discomfort. How was he going to keep his hands off her for the rest of this case?

“He didn't seem hurt?” Jake asked.

Both Joe and Bubba shook their heads.

“He has supplies in that backpack,” Faye said. “He's obviously lost but doesn't trust any strangers to help him. He must be using a compass. That would explain why he keeps going south instead of north back to the highway.”

The men around her all nodded as if what she'd said made perfect sense.

Jake was still wondering about her statement, that Gillette “has” supplies, instead of “
probably
has” supplies. How would she know he had supplies?

“I don't understand,” he said. “A compass would make him get more lost?”

“Compasses go crazy around here,” she explained. “Just like a lot of electronic equipment, GPS trackers, cell phones. There's something about the swamp in this area that makes things like compasses unreliable. In order to find your way around, you have to rely on landmarks and the sun or stars.”

“Do you mind if I ask why anyone would actually choose to live in a place like this, in the middle of nowhere?”

The friendly looks on the men's faces faded. Faye gave him an aggravated look.

“What?” he asked.

She grabbed his hand. “Come on. Let's get out of here before Buddy decides to use you as target practice for his fancy new crossbow.”

They'd just reached the street when the Buddy in question leaned out the door. “Faye, hold up. You going out past Croc Landing to look for that fellow right now?”

“We're leaving as soon as I grab my gear from the shop.”

“Hang on a sec.” He disappeared back inside. A couple of minutes later he hurried back out holding two dark green backpacks. One of them was noticeably larger than the other. Buddy heaved it at Jake, who staggered back when he caught it against his chest.

“This thing weighs a ton,” Jake said.

Buddy arched a brow. “I might have accidentally distributed the weight more in that pack than Faye's. My bad.” The sour look he gave Jake told him it wasn't an accident. He handed the much lighter-looking, smaller pack to Faye. “Those packs have everything you need in case you get caught out past sundown. I'd consider it a favor if you take them. You can let me know how the new gear holds up. There's a tent in the pack your man's holding. Do you need any weapons?”

“Of course not. I'm packing.” She slid her arms through the straps of the backpack and buckled the strap that tightened it against her waist. She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “Thanks, Buddy. You're a sweetheart.”

He flushed and stepped back. “Be careful, darlin'.”

“Always.”

Jake rolled his eyes and hoisted the heavy pack onto his shoulders, fastening the straps the way Faye had done. If his pack weighed less than sixty pounds, it wasn't by much.

Faye waved goodbye to Buddy and grabbed Jake's hand. “Come on.” She started down the street, away from the shop.

“My car's back that way,” he said. “From what your friends told us, Gillette was at least eight miles away yesterday. He could be a lot more than that by now.”

“Cars can't reach Croc Landing. It's all marsh.”

“We're going to hike the whole way?”

She gave him an exasperated look. “Do you always complain this much?”

He clamped his mouth shut and pulled her to the boardwalk as a car went by, the first he'd seen since he'd been there. They continued toward the end of the street, passing several more shops. When he saw the church at the very end, he couldn't help but laugh.

Faye shot him a death glare.

He coughed and forced the amusement off his face until she turned around and started walking again. He would have loved to snap a picture of the sign above the church, but he figured Faye would probably drop him on his ass again if he did. So, instead, he made a mental note to tell Dex about it the next time they spoke. His business partner would get a real kick out of a church called Last Chance advertising “over five hundred saved” just like a fast-food restaurant advertising how many burgers it had sold.

The street dead-ended behind the church, but Faye didn't even slow down. She headed into the trees, with Jake hurrying to catch up. Fifty yards in, the solid ground ended and the marsh began.

Faye stopped and faced him. “Take off the pack.”

He didn't question her dictate. This was her domain and he was more than willing to take the heavy pack off. He unclipped the strap at his waist and slipped out of the shoulder straps. The pack dropped to the ground with a solid thunk.

She crouched down and opened it.

Jake swore when he saw what was inside on top. Rocks. Big, heavy rocks like the ones used to build the fake mountain where Buddy's swamp buggy was perched back at SBO. He counted ten rocks before Faye finished taking them out and then handed the pack back to him.

The weight had easily been cut in half. He slung it onto his shoulders and fastened the straps.

“How did you know?” he asked.

“By how heavy it seemed when Buddy threw it to you. I figured he was teaching you a lesson in manners. Lesson learned?”

He let out a deep breath. “Lesson learned.”

“Good. Let's go. It'll take most of the day to navigate to Croc Landing. It's in the most treacherous part of the swamp and hard to reach. If we don't find Calvin there, I want to get a good distance from the Landing to a higher, safer spot before dark.”

He looked out over the marsh, wondering how deep it was and whether there were any alligators hiding in the mud. “Can't we borrow Buddy's swamp buggy and make it there faster? And safer?” He'd much rather be higher up where nothing could bite him.

“That swamp buggy costs more than I'd make in two years running my shop. I'm not about to ask him to loan it to me. And I'd have to go the back way, around the main waterways, to get there. I've never been that way on my own.”

Jake sighed with disappointment. “Okay. Then how do we get to Croc Landing? On foot?”

She headed past him and bent down beside a pile of leaves. After fumbling with what appeared to be a plastic buckle, she swept the leaves back, which turned out to be part of a camouflaged tarp.

Jake groaned when he saw what was underneath.

Faye gave him a smug look. “Come on, city slicker. I'm going to teach you how to navigate a swamp in a canoe.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

The canoe slid quietly through a cluster of lily pads, their yellow flowers perfuming the air with each dip of Jake's oar into the water. The knobby knees of cypress tree roots stuck up out of the swamp beneath the canopy of branches over the shallows. Faye loved the swamp, with its musty smells and constant chorus of singing birds and frogs, and the occasional bellow of an alligator. She would often spend an entire weekend out in the bog, with just her canoe for company, taking in the sights, enjoying the freedom. But this time, she wasn't alone. And she was finding, to her surprise, that sharing the majestic world of the Everglades with Jake was even more fun than usual.

When she pointed out birds or plants, naming them, explaining about their habitats and how they fit into the ecosystem, he listened intently, asking questions and seeming to enjoy the marsh as much as she did as his understanding of it grew. She hadn't expected that from a man who'd spent most of his life in the city or walking the beach. He'd surprised her in other ways, too, such as how well he was doing with the canoe.

She'd been half teasing when she'd said she'd teach him. She'd assumed he'd been canoeing at least a handful of times in his life, just maybe not in a swamp. She'd been shocked to find that he'd never even been in a canoe.

In spite of that shameful admission, he'd been a quick learner. Faye had planned on paddling at first to show him how. But Jake had been horrified by that idea. He wasn't about to sit and do nothing while a woman did the work. His old-fashioned ideas were silly to Faye, but she also thought it was sweet. And she thought it would be fun to play along and see how many times he'd get them stuck on a submerged tree or mired in mud before he admitted he needed her help. Surprisingly, he hadn't gotten stuck even once. He followed her instructions to the letter, and was soon paddling them down the waterway like a pro.

She would have liked to sit there facing him, admiring the way his muscles bunched in his arms with each powerful stroke of the paddle, but she had to navigate. Which meant facing away from him, calling out orders to turn, slow down or speed up.

Croc Landing turned out to be a disappointment for Jake, who'd expected to see dozens of the reptiles sunbathing on the banks of the waterway. Instead, the bank was deserted, which suited Faye just fine.

“I thought you were afraid of alligators,” she said.

“Let's go with respectful. Wary. But as long as we're inside the canoe, we're safe. So I thought it would be cool to see a bunch of them on the bank.”

“Since we have to step out on that bank, I'm happy there aren't any around right now.”

He looked at the water with renewed vigilance. “Good point. If it's called Croc Landing, why are we talking alligators? Aren't there any crocodiles around here?”

“We get a few crocodiles but they thrive more in the saltwater marshes. Mostly we have alligators.”

“Then why is this place called Croc Landing?”

“Because ‘Croc Landing' sounds better on a tourist pamphlet than ‘Gator Landing.'”

“Ah, the almighty dollar at work. I didn't see any tourist fliers in Mystic Glades. Does Buddy take people out on his airboat?”

She laughed. “I'm pretty sure he'd be insulted if you asked him that. He doesn't like the idea of tourists traipsing through our precious 'Glades. It's the airboat tour companies a bit farther south that sometimes bring people up as far as Croc Landing. No one in Mystic Glades would dream of welcoming people from the outside.”

“Your friends at SBO seemed pretty nice to me. And Freddie and Amy were nice, too, even though I'm an outsider.”

“Yeah, but we lied and told them you were with me. Makes a big difference.” She pointed to the right where she wanted to land the canoe.

Jake speared the water with the oar and guided them toward shore. “You didn't grow up in Mystic Glades, right? But they accept you as one of their own. That's because of your friend, Amber Callahan?”

She nodded, some of her fun with the canoe trip evaporating. “Yes.”

“I don't remember meeting her. Does she help Freddie in the bar?”

She half turned, looking back at him. “Amber and I lost touch with each other a few years ago. She stopped returning my letters. When I...needed to move to a new place, I came to Mystic Glades, hoping to reestablish our friendship. But when I got here I found out she'd gotten lost and died out in the swamp. That's why my mail went unanswered.”

Jake winced. “Sorry. I didn't mean to bring up unhappy memories.”

She nodded, and forced thoughts of Amber away. “Over here.” She pointed to a place that seemed to offer the easiest access to the “beach,” such as it was.

The bottom of the canoe ground against the shallows until the nose wedged into the sand. Faye reassured herself there weren't any reptiles waiting to pounce on her from the water before jumping out of the canoe. She held it steady while Jake moved to the prow. He hopped out and together they pulled the canoe up the incline about twenty feet from the water's edge. They stowed it beneath an oak tree and covered it with the tarp.

Faye pointed out some landmarks—twisted trees and groups of rocks—that they could use to find the canoe on their way back, rather than rely on the GPS on Jake's fancy cell phone.

Two hours later, after hiking through the area around the Landing in concentric circles and finding nothing, Faye called an end to the search.

“I think it's safe to say he's not here. We'll make camp for the night and head out to where Joe thinks he saw Calvin in the morning. It's a bit of a hike.”

By the time they reached a good camping spot, the sun was sinking low on the horizon. But Faye was pleased with their progress. They had a good, relatively safe area to set up camp for the night and could resume their search for Calvin in the morning. On foot and with only a limited knowledge of the area from the few times he'd been to Mystic Glades, Calvin wouldn't make nearly as good time as Faye and Jake. She was confident they'd find him before the next day was out.

As with the canoeing instructions earlier, Jake was a quick learner at how to set up camp. Soon they had the small dome-tent up and some netting erected between the trees near the tent to dissuade small animals on foot. Little bells on the netting would alert them if something got caught in the net, or if something bigger was on the prowl.

Jake surveyed their temporary home. “What about alligators? Will the nets stop them?”

“Doubtful, but we're pretty far from the water. We should be fine here.”

He didn't look as if he believed her. He patted the pistol holstered on his waist. “Hopefully I won't have to use this.”

She pulled up her pant legs to reveal her knife strapped on the outside of one boot and her pistol strapped on the outside of the other. “I've got us covered.”

He gave her a lopsided grin and shook his head. “I wondered where you were hiding those when you told Buddy you were packing.”

“A girl's got to protect herself.”

He glanced up at the tree limbs hanging over their campsite. “What about snakes?”

She flicked the silver chain around her neck. “Snake repellant. I grabbed a new bag before I left the shop.”

“That's fine for an emergency, but I'd rather not get close enough to a snake to use that.”

She laughed. “Don't worry. If you get attacked I promise I'll help you fend off the snake.”

“What if you're the one who gets attacked?”

“I'll just have to trust you to save me.”

He nodded, his expression serious. “I won't let anything happen to you.”

She slid her hand up his chest. “See that you don't.”

He took a quick step back, forcing her to drop her hand. “Since I don't see a bathroom or a porta-pottie around here, I'm going to take a walk.”

Disappointment shot through her. She'd felt freed last night, at peace with her belief that he had a good soul, that she could trust him. She'd decided to pursue the incredible chemistry between them and just enjoy being with him for however long they had together. But every time she tried to initiate anything more than a casual touch, he pulled away. It had practically taken her attacking him back at the store to get him to kiss her.

But, oh my, did he know how to kiss once he'd let himself go.

She sighed at the memory and pointed to a break in the trees to the west. “You go that way and I'll go this way.” She grabbed a latrine kit from the pack and tossed it to him. “You're a smart guy. I'm sure you can figure out how to use that.”

* * *

J
AKE
DIDN
'
T
STOP
until he was a good fifty yards from their campsite. He found a clearing on a slight rise and checked the bars on his phone. Only two—hopefully that would be enough. He took another minute to scout the nearby bushes and trees looking for snakes and alligators, but he seemed to be alone. Then again, a hungry reptile could be hiding in the dirt nearby and he might never see it. Just to be safe, he pulled out his pistol and set it on a fallen tree log beside him as he sat with his phone.

He absently studied the latrine kit while he dialed Dex Lassiter's number. The green vinyl bag contained a small hand shovel, an equally small roll of toilet paper and antibacterial hand wipes. He laughed and set it aside.

“Lassiter,” the voice on the phone answered.

“Dex, it's Jake.”

“Well, it's about damn time. I was seriously considering reporting
you
as a missing person. I haven't heard from you since you found Gillette's car.”

“I know, I know. I've been busy.” He quickly summarized what had happened since then. “Faye thinks we'll find Calvin sometime tomorrow. I don't have a lot of phone time, so you'll have to relay the information to Quinn for me.”

“No problem. Is Faye armed?”

“When is she not? She's got a gun and knife strapped to her boots.”

“We should call Holder. Get some backup.”

“Quinn gave strict instructions to keep this on the down low. And if Holder makes the catch—”

“We don't get paid. Yeah, I know. Still. I'm not sure the danger is worth it.”

Jake tapped the log beside him. “Faye has a good heart. She loves animals and plants, and risks her life to help people. Yesterday she saved a man from a boa constrictor. She's not dangerous to anyone.”

“Tell that to Genovese.”

Jake tightened his hand around the phone. “Yeah, about that. How much do we really know about the case other than what Quinn told us?”

Dex groaned.

“What?” Jake demanded.

“You're falling for her.”

“Shut up. I am not. I'm just curious. The woman I've met doesn't mesh with what we've been told. I'd like to see some details from the case. Just get the file and double-check that no red flags go up, all right?”

A bush rustled behind him. He jerked around. Was that a shadow? A deeper black than the rest of the darkness as the sun slid lower in the sky? He grabbed his pistol and stood. “Faye? Is that you?”

“Jake, you okay?” Dex asked.

He waited but didn't hear anything else. The shadow no longer seemed to be there. Were his eyes playing tricks on him?

“Jake?”

“I'm still here. Thought I saw something. You're going to look into the case, right?”

Dex groaned again. “Okay, okay. I think it's a complete waste of time. But since you're the one out there putting your life on the line, the least I can do is get Quinn to email me a copy of the case file.”

“Sounds good. I'll try to call you tomorrow but I don't know when I'll be able to get away or have cell coverage. Don't freak if you don't hear from me right away.”

He ended the call and answered nature's call before starting back to camp. That dark shadow he'd seen, or thought he saw, had the hairs standing up on the back of his neck. He stopped a few times to listen and peer into the underbrush. But he never figured out what had caused that shadow. Unless it was his overactive imagination.

When he reached the campsite and stepped over the netting, Faye was kneeling by a small fire, stirring a pot on top of a metal rack. Her long hair was twisted into a thick braid hanging down her back.

She looked up in question as he sat beside her. “You were gone awhile. I was about to come looking for you.”

“I took a short walk, looked around.”

Her brows rose. “You find what you were looking for?”

He was careful to keep his expression blank so he wouldn't give anything away. “I didn't see any tracks from Gillette, but I did get the feeling I was being watched. Thought I heard some bushes move as if something big had passed behind them. Are there any bears around here?”

She smiled and turned her attention to stirring the mouthwatering soup or stew that was in the pot. “We've got some black bears here and there, but they're typically too afraid to go near people. There are some foxes out here, too, raccoons, even an occasional bobcat. But those are rare.”

He bent forward to get a better smell of the food. “Would a bobcat trigger the bells and netting we've got strung up?”

She pushed him back. “Patience. It's almost done. And no, probably not. A bobcat would just jump out of a tree on top of us.”

He looked up at the branches hanging over them.

Faye laughed. “For such a large man, you sure are skittish.”

“I'd just prefer not to become a meal for some predator while I'm out here. That's not the way I want to go out.”

“Get the bowls and spoons, will you?” She pointed to a small cloth lying in the dirt with the dishes sitting on it next to some bottles of water.

He handed her the bowls one at a time as she ladled out the meal. While they sat down to eat, he handed her one of the water bottles. She nodded her thanks.