Heroes In Uniform (280 page)

His grandfather had taught him that a good hunter listened to his whole body—mind, heart, eyes, and instincts. But right now, Coop’s mind and his eyes were telling him different things than his heart and his instincts. That had never happened before. He didn't quite know how to handle it.

A dozen questions about Maggie Johansen buzzed around in his head. Ones that needed answering. Tomorrow, he would have to start asking them. But in the meantime...

He tied the pouch back on his belt, resolving to do a ceremony that evening, and ask for the dreams to come. Perhaps Memekwesiw would help him find the truth.

Perhaps, this time.

Barely Dangerous: Chapter Fifteen

Tower Eight was perched on a mountaintop surrounded by unending pine forest, steep peaks, and dramatic valleys. The small, square lookout post sat about thirty-five feet up off the ground at the very top of a sturdy wooden frame. Over one-hundred-fifty stairs corkscrewed steeply up the inside of the frame, leading to a sparsely furnished cabin that served as both lookout and living quarters.

The two most prominent features inside the cab were the Osborn fire finder located in the very middle of the floor, and a large, tripod-mounted telescope off to one side. There were no walls—the entire space was enclosed by floor-to-ceiling windows with no curtains. The function of the lookout tower was to spot fires, not to have privacy.

A microscopic kitchenette stood in one corner below the windows. A two-way Forest Service radio took the place of a phone. A single electrical conduit had been added a few decades ago, and that ran everything not powered by solar battery. Drinking water was bottled, and wash-water came from an large barrel-like rain catch-tank on the roof of the lookout, which was accessible through a small hatch in the cab’s ceiling. Primitive facilities were located down the stairs on ground level, along with a tank-fed, solar-heated shower.

The best part of the set-up was the catwalk that completely surrounded the cab. Maggie had bought a couple of lawn chairs and a tiny patio table which just fit on the narrow wooden walkway. Whether she craved moonlight, sun, or shade, there was always a part of the deck she could relax on, guaranteed to have a splendid view.

She loved living in the lookout tower. She understood perfectly why her Uncle Dan had been coming back year after year for practically no pay. The best memories she had of her own childhood were the camping trips her parents had taken her on to California’s many magnificent national parks.

Lying on her narrow sleeping cot, she stretched and yawned. After pacing around the cab for a couple of hours, she’d decided to try for a short nap to clear her mind. But she was far too wound-up to fall asleep. She was tossing and turning, her mind stuck in a chronic histeresis of the encounter with Blue Wolf Cooper.

She couldn't remember ever having been so attracted to a man at first glance. Or of being so wary of one. Even her former boss, Sam Whitney, on trial for crimes far worse than poaching, had not seemed nearly as dangerous.

Dangerous and attractive.

Dangerously attractive
.

God
. She put her hand over her eyes. The pressure was getting to her. Hiding out in the remote Trinity Forest, jumping at every noise in the night, nervous at every encounter with a stranger—and now these dead bears.

Giving up on sleep, she rose and went out onto the catwalk, and leaned her elbows on the railing. Looking down, her gaze was pulled to Cooper like a compass to the north. Although it was over half a mile down the hill, she could clearly see the setup of his camp. Up on her mountaintop perch, sights and sounds came unhindered from incredible distances.

She watched him move around the small meadow by the lake, arranging gear, stringing a bear-proof canister over a tree limb. A triangular, one-man sleeping tent stood back by the pines. A few yards away, he had erected a small round-topped structure. She had no idea what it was.

Damn
. If only he were an everyday fisherman and she an ordinary woman with a certain future, she would welcome the company. Coming from her family, she should be used to the solitude, but after six frenetic years at the stockbrokerage back home in L.A., where she interacted with dozens of people every day, she liked the snappy repartee and the constant roiling of humanity at close quarters.

It got really lonely out here in the forest.

She squeezed her eyes shut against an unbidden ache. Hell, to be honest, it got lonely everywhere. Even surrounded by people, loneliness had followed her all her life. She wasn’t sure why.

Maybe she should join the guys at Gina's tonight, after all. She had never been too crazy about going to bars, but the informal Forest Service get-togethers gave her a chance to talk to other human beings.

Unfortunately, she'd already told Cooper she was staying in. It would look suspicious if she suddenly took off.

She watched him down below and let out a hum of appreciation. Dangerous or no, he was one gorgeous hunk of masculinity.

Too bad things were so screwed up. Even if he wasn’t involved in the poaching, she would still have to keep her distance. She was dangerous to be around at the moment, a moving target. If Whitney found her, things could get really ugly. If he was acquitted at the trial, she would have to disappear into the Witness Security program for a long time. Possibly forever. It wouldn’t be fair to start something that could end so abruptly...or so badly.

She’d also feel a whole lot better knowing she wasn't camped next to a criminal.

How could she check him out? Maybe Dinny would run a check on him. She could even call Jane, her good friend at the
Pasadena Star News
back in L.A.. Jane could easily find out what magazine Cooper worked for.

Thinking of Jane, she felt a brief stab of guilt. Maggie was under strict orders from Dinny and the FBI not to make contact with any of her friends or family. The usual 24/7 guard had only been dispensed with because of the remoteness of her hiding place, and her solemn promise not to talk to a living soul who knew her. But after the first few weeks of terrified isolation, she’d thought she would go nuts if she didn't talk with someone sympathetic—who already knew about her situation as a witness. So, she had called Jane from the burner cell phone Dinny had given her...and felt guilty about it ever since.

Jane was the whole reason she was there. When Maggie had stumbled onto the secret data files in Whitney's computer detailing his massively illegal derivative fraud, she had told Jane about it, thinking a newspaper article might be a good way to expose Whitney anonymously while giving Jane's career a boost. Together, they dug around a bit, until it became clear they were well out of their league. It was Jane who'd recommended bringing in the FBI. It had been good advice.

Right now, Maggie was in need of some more good advice. Maybe an objective listener would be able to pick up on something she was overlooking regarding Mr. Tall, Dark, Handsome, and Dangerous.

Tomorrow she’d call her friend. If anyone could dig up the dirt on Blue Wolf Cooper, it was Jane.

After dinner, Maggie watched him build a fire ring with rocks he picked up from the lakeshore, and lay a fire, which he soon had blazing nicely. The late summer sunset played hide and seek with the mountain peaks, lighting his camp in a dusky glow. She wandered over to the telescope next to the window and trained it on him. He was wearing jeans but was shirtless, his midnight hair cutting a dark swath across his broad, straight back.

As she watched through the telescope, he placed a silver-dollar-sized object on one of the rocks of the fire ring. She focused in on it, but had no clue what it was. She squinted closer.

He sat before the fire, his whole being seemingly concentrated on the tiny object. The soft whisper of a strange song, a melodious chant, drifted up to the tower, carried on a smoky suggestion of campfire.

Maggie was fascinated. Living ritual was a rare thing these days. She’d always been interested in different cultures. What had started as an exploration of her own heritage had ended up in the discovery that even the most divergent cultures always shared some aspects. The common links never ceased to amaze her.

Jumping to her feet, she went to grab her flashlight.

Then halted abruptly. Was she insane? How could she even consider going down to his campsite?

Barely Dangerous: Chapter Sixteen

After the short ritual, Coop sat cross-legged in front of the crackling fire, relaxing. The heat of the flames felt good on his face, and he loved the smoky, pitchy scent of the burning pine logs. He tilted his gaze up to the blanket of stars in the black crystal sky and breathed in deeply. It had been too long since he had lived on the land. It was at times like these he realized how much he missed being out in the wilderness. Even undercover, it was seldom he spent more than a night or two sleeping under the stars.

In his youth he had spent many of his summers with his Cree grandparents in their village close to the Hudson Bay in Canada. The Cree were one of the last hunting and fishing cultures still in existence. His upbringing had given him a unique perspective on how nature could be utilized by man, and preserved at the same time. His innovative ideas had caused him to rise swiftly through the ranks of the CDFW. His superiors wanted him to continue that rise, but he resisted. He knew that would land him firmly behind a desk.

It would be different if he had a family waiting when he came home to his bungalow at night. Laughing kids, a slobbery dog, a warm, loving wife to lose himself in. Then he wouldn't mind a desk job nearly so much. But for now, he'd just as soon not go there. He’d just be reminded of his self-imposed, solitary existence.

It's not that he didn't meet women...but the ones he did meet tended not to get past his surface. Most often, they didn't care so much about Blue Wolf Cooper, as what he represented. They were so infatuated with his distinctive looks and the stereotypes of his ancestry that the real man beneath all that suffered acute neglect.

He smiled, thinking of how Maggie had called him out on his own preconceived notions. Damn. It wasn't going to be easy to bust her, if that’s how it went. He hated to think of a woman as sexy and full of mischief as Maggie Johansen languishing in a prison cell.

He glanced up at the dark tower. She was going to be a challenge. On all fronts. He just hoped he could keep his hands off her long enough that she’d implicate herself in the poaching ring. His record was near perfect to date, and he'd be damned if he'd let a woman change that just because she looked good in jeans and a tank top.

He froze at the sound of approaching footsteps. Noiselessly, he rose and stepped out of the circle of firelight, melting into the dark forest fringe behind camp.

The steady progress of a flashlight beam paused at the edge of the clearing, then moved haltingly toward the fire ring. The circle of light made a jerky pass around the campsite, then stopped briefly on the bear patella resting on a rock by the flames.

“Cooper?” Maggie's voice called out uncertainly. “Are you here?”

She took a few steps toward the small lake behind the meadow, shining her beam on the gently lapping water. A pair of ducks floating in the reedy shallows looked up sleepily, then tucked their heads under their downy wings.

Loosening his grip on a Jeffrey Pine, Coop shot his fingers through his hair.
What did she want?
He moved silently back to the fire and stood behind it, arms crossed, observing her.

And suddenly, he wished he were wearing a shirt.

Barely Dangerous: Chapter Seventeen

The back of Maggie's neck tingled as though someone was watching her. She turned nervously.

“Oh!” Her flashlight hit the ground with a
thud
.

An apparition had appeared in the firelight, colored in red reflections and undulating black shadows.

“I see you've changed your mind.” The specter had Cooper's voice.

Her heartbeat kicked up. She took a hesitant step toward him. “Yes.” She stepped back again. “No!” Oh, hell. “Changed my mind about what?”

The black shadows on his face shifted subtly. “You tell me.”

She swallowed.
Good freaking question
.

She inched backward as Cooper stepped out from behind the fire. “Gina’s. I finished my book. But you look all settled in, and probably don't feel like moving.” She stooped to pick up her flashlight and edged away in the direction she had come. “So, I'll just be going—”

“No.” His hand flicked out to rest on her arm. “Gina's would be nice.” He gave the fire a quick glance.

She did, too, and her gaze fastened on the small object she’d seen through the telescope. “On the other hand, it would be a shame to waste such a nice fire,” she said. “Maybe we could stay till it burns down.”

After a moment's hesitation Cooper nodded. “I'll get another blanket from the tent.”

By the time he came back, she had curled up on his rectangle of handwoven wool. He’d put on a faded work shirt, but hadn't bothered to button it. The front plackets flapped in the breeze of his lithe movements.

She forced herself to start breathing again, and turned back to the fire.
What the hell
. Curiosity had gotten her into this—the least she could do was satisfy it.

She pointed to the small object. “What is that thing on the rock?”

* * *

Coop looked sharply at Maggie. He'd forgotten she was one of those armchair anthropologists.
Damn
, he hated feeling like he was on display.

Still, answering might lead them to the subject of poaching.

He smiled. “It's the kneecap of a black bear.”

She bolted upright. “What are you doing with that?”

Terribly insensitive stuff, culturally speaking. Maybe she wasn’t one of those new age sponges, after all. “I'm doing a hunting ritual,” he said.

“Hunting what?” she asked testily. “Gullible white women?”