Heroes In Uniform (293 page)

But hallucination or not, it had shown her the amazing possibility for love between them, and what it could be like.

Today, he’d wanted her in a whole different way, and had told her so in breathtaking terms. But at the same time, he had put
her
in control of what happened between them.

Which only made the temptation twice as great.

The noise from up on the hillside reached her again, louder this time. It sounded like a small rockslide made by something—or someone—crawling along the top of the ridge.

Her pulse quickened. Something felt wrong. She felt exposed and vulnerable. Had the guy from the blue sedan found her?

She stopped, looking around for somewhere to hide. A short way up the hill were some large boulders. She ran up and hid behind them. For several minutes, nothing happened. Had she imagined it?

Then, above her, a small stream of gravel clattered down a dry gully. The sound seemed to be coming from the direction toward the tower. Pushing aside her apprehension, she decided to cautiously investigate the noise. Maybe it was just an animal foraging for food. But if it was someone heading for the lookout, she wanted an advance warning.

She was breathing hard by the time she’d sneaked to the top of the hill. On her stomach, she crawled up the rocky ridge crest and looked over, scanning the sparsely wooded ravine below for a sign that someone was there.

A movement on the other side caught her eye. For a split second, she saw the upper half of a dark figure silhouetted against the sun. As the shadow dropped below the opposite ridge, the outline of the man’s dark braid flicked in the sun. Her skin prickled with unease as she recognized Cooper's favorite hairstyle.

Blue sedan guy had short hair. Definitely no ponytail.

Was it Cooper over there? What could he be doing?

Ignoring the inner warning, she hoisted herself off the stony crest and began making her way down the ravine as quietly as possible, keeping an eye on the opposite ridge. She had to find out.

When she reached the dry, rocky bottom of the wash, she shaded her eyes with a hand and looked up the slope to find the easiest way to the top. A flash of light blinded her, and she hastily looked away, pressing her fingers to her eyes.

She opened them carefully, and looked down at the ground until the sensitivity passed. What she saw when her full vision returned made her insides explode in panic.

Lying coiled right next to her foot was a huge rattlesnake. Small black eyes gazed languidly up at her. The snake's rattles rested silently on one fat coil, its head lazily on another. A forked tongue shot out of its mouth, testing the air.

Ohgod-ohgod-ohgod.

She was a dead woman
.

She held her breath, adrenalin screaming through her veins.

She and the rattler stared at each other for a good minute, until finally the reptile’s second eyelids slid down to glaze its eyes. She could almost see it relax, occasionally darting its tongue out and in.

What the hell did she do now?

Casting an anxious glance up the hill to where the figure had disappeared, she knew she had to go soon or she would lose him for good.

For the first time in her life, she was grateful for the countless PBS science programs, museums, and wildlife exhibits her parents had made her squirm through. Rattlesnake bites were almost never fatal, she told herself. You just had to stay put, and not walk around after being bitten, she told herself. The old bugger looked too comfortable to bother with her, anyway.

She glanced at the ridge again. Okay, she'd risk it.

Excruciatingly slowly, she lifted a foot and moved it to one side. The snake propped open a lid and gave her a cursory glance, then resumed its slumber. With a silent sigh of relief, she moved her other foot.

After a few more careful steps, she turned to make her escape. And nearly fainted when she saw two more snakes coiled in her path, with broad heads and distinctive diamond markings.

Damn it!
Squeezing her eyes shut, she sent up a silent prayer, then opened them and looked around.

She was surrounded by the damn things. She stopped counting at eight. She honestly didn’t want to know.

A fly buzzed around her head, driving her nuts wanting to swat at it. But she didn’t dare. Standing with her legs perfectly still, she slowly covered her face with trembling hands.

She hated snakes.

She just
hated
them.

She knew she had to move eventually, but couldn’t make herself do it. Not yet.

A terrible thought sifted through her mind. Had it been Cooper she’d seen? Had he really walked right through the middle of this snake pit? Had he done it deliberately, knowing she was following him? Knowing he’d be leading her to a terrible fate?

No
.

He was one of the good guys. And she'd told him everything he wanted to know. Why would he do something like this? He wouldn’t.

She forced her shaking hands to her sides and scouted out a route that put the maximum possible space between her and the nearest reptiles.

Curling her fists into tight balls, she took a deep breath. And a cautious step.

None of the rattlers moved.

Another step. Still they were placid.

Slowly but surely, she moved past the closest snakes.

“That's right, just keep coming toward me,” a man's voice said directly in front of her.

She glanced up lightning fast to see who had spoken. He was tall and lean with sand-colored curls.

“Rollo!”

His green eyes were filled with concern. They were fastened on her sneakers.

She hesitated, sizing up her new situation. There was no reason to believe Rollo had anything to do with leading her into this predicament. Certainly, he didn't have a long braid. She was safe with Rollo.

She moved carefully onward, until she was a few yards away from him, with only one rattler left to pass. He took a step forward and held out his hand.

Abandoning all caution she reached for it, and he dragged her swiftly into his arms and away from danger.

“Oh, my God. Thank you!” she cried into his shoulder.

He carried her a couple dozen yards, then set her down. “You’re okay. No more snakes here.”

The adrenaline crashed, and she collapsed against him. “I’ve n-never seen so m-many in my life!” she stammered.

Holding her tightly to his broad chest, he soothed her with strong fingers. “It’s over. I’ve got you now.”

Barely Dangerous: Chapter Fifty-Four

Reaching the crest of the ridge, Coop looked down into the ravine. He’d been making his way back to camp when he’d seen a bright flash of light that didn’t belong up here. His instincts had gone into overdrive, so he’d stashed his gear and come up to investigate.

What he saw now made his blood run cold.

His woman, in the arms of another man
.

He stood for a moment and watched the touching scenario, his jaw set, his muscles tense. He wanted to leap down on the man and rip his damn throat out.

Possessiveness twisted and tore in his chest, clouding his vision.
She was his!
He would not share her. He'd kill the bastard before letting him have her.

He took a running step toward them, then stopped.

What the hell was he doing?

He turned quickly, and retreated quietly down the hill to the river.
This was the last fucking time he was listening to his goddamn instincts
. Crouching there, he glared at the swirling water until the unfamiliar, unwanted emotions were gone, and he had regained his composure. Some of it, anyway.

For the second time in as many days, his control had been at the snapping point.

He must be going windigo
.

He needed to calm down, and get his head back in the game. Think like an investigator, not like a jilted lover.

Who was that guy? And why was Maggie meeting him?

When he was sure it was Blue Wolf who guided his actions and not the evil windigo spirit, Coop retraced his steps over the hill and into the ravine, seeking out the spot where his woman had stood with the man. He knelt down and examined the footprints. Her sneakers had been bent, heels up, as the man held her to him. The man's prints were of a distinctive hiking boot pattern—but not the ones Coop and Jack had found at the kill site.
Too bad
.

On the other hand, the tread was very sharp—a sure sign of new boots.

It was then he noticed the rattler in front of him. Then another, and another.

Dreamers
!

His grandfather said, because snakes and bears are asleep for much of their lives, they are the bringers of dreams.

The ravine was full of them, coiled up to either side of a trail of sneaker prints. Apparently, they had let Maggie pick her way through them without protest.

What could that mean?

He rose and turned away. It meant she’d gotten lucky, that's all. Lucky she didn't get a pair of fangs in her ankle. Nothing more.

Silently, he tracked her and the man, following a faint but distinct trail of designer cologne. Their pace through the forest was leisurely, and after a few miles he caught sight of them walking side by side and talking.
Hmm
. The man looked familiar.

Following noiselessly, Coop kept well back. He wished he could hear their conversation. But at least he’d find out who the guy was and where he was taking her.

He halted at the edge of the forest when the pair walked into a large camp spread out over a meadow. The place was littered with equipment and several large canvas army surplus tents.

“It's not the Ritz,” the man said to Maggie, “but we call it home.”

Coop crept closer.

Two women sat at a foldout picnic table, eating. “Rollo! Just in time for lunch,” one of them called, hailing them over to the table. “Maggie! What a nice surprise!” She looked familiar, too.

Maggie shook hands with the first woman and was introduced to the other—Theresa—before sliding onto the bench opposite them. “Sally, I'm so glad I finally got to visit the project,” she said. “Although, I’d probably have chosen different circumstances.”

The man they’d called Rollo slipped his arm around Maggie's waist and told the others how he'd come across her in the middle of a snake pit. “She was very brave.”

Coop gritted his teeth when he gave her a squeeze, and took a closer look. Ah, yes. He knew now where he'd seen the bastard before. At Gina's the other night, with the woman Coop had helped with the drunk—the one named Sally, sitting at the table.

He scowled. That night, he'd gotten the impression Maggie hadn't known her. Perhaps he’d been mistaken.

And maybe Maggie hadn't been lying about being involved with a man, after all...

To stem his rising anger, he decided to sneak around to the tent that sat furthest away and take a look inside. Stealthily, he circled around the clearing, and slipped under the tent flap.

With any luck, he’d find something that would hang the son of a bitch.

Barely Dangerous: Chapter Fifty-Five

Maggie had listened with amusement while Rollo told the story of her brush with death. He’d spun a good yarn, she had to admit, even if much of it had bordered on hyperbole.

“What you need,” Sally said to Maggie after he concluded, “is a good stiff drink.” She disappeared into the nearest tent, and emerged holding a bottle of scotch and four glasses. “Normally, we don't indulge this early in the day, but between your snakes and the news David brought earlier—”

Maggie looked at her questioningly.

Rollo took the bottle and poured out four generous portions. “David's the fourth member of our team. He ran into Justin Feldman earlier this morning.” Rollo handed her a glass. “You know Justin?” At her nod, he continued. “Well, he told David he'd just found one of our new bears. Butchered by poachers.”

Maggie's heart fell. “Another one? So soon?”

Sally nodded. “Justin said probably sometime last night.”

Maggie took a sip, hardly noticing the burn as she recalled the sight of the bears she’d found. “It's so horrible. I can't believe it.”

She had never considered the possibility that there would be another kill so soon. Whoever was doing it didn’t seem to be too worried about Fish and Wildlife. They had to know CDFW already sent someone to investigate the first kill. Were they getting inside information?

She dismissed the uncomfortable notion that someone inside Fish and Wildlife could be working with poachers. Someone like Cooper. Or, it might just be someone familiar with CDFW’s timetable. Someone in law enforcement. Or the Forest Service.

But she wanted to think the people she knew in all those realms would never harm innocent animals, no matter how lucrative it might be.

She looked at Rollo. “What did you mean, it's one of yours?”

“It was one of the bears included in our study,” he said sadly.

“You mean David recognized it?” she asked, curious.

Rollo took a large swallow of scotch. “When we tag a new bear, we spray paint a stripe on the back of its neck, so we don’t go after it again before we can sync the tag onto our database. It takes a while for the paint to wear off.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah. Bloody hell.” He drained the rest of his drink.

He looked like he could use a change of subject.

“You mentioned your GPS tags when we met at Tommy's,” Maggie said. “I'd love to see how they work.”

Sally gave a half-smile. “And I'm sure he'd love to show you.” She raised her glass to him in a salute, then turned to Maggie. “By the way, how is your non-friend? Cooper, I believe his name is?”

Maggie grimaced. “Out fishing. I hope.”

Sally gave her a puzzled look. “Okay.” She emptied her glass, and said to Theresa, “Well, how about you and me getting some work done? With all our bears disappearing this summer, we have a ton of data to close out. And we'll have to send another begging letter to our lovely sponsors, too.”

Theresa blew out a breath. “You're right. Four dead bears in three days is too good to pass up.”