Lena Diaz - Smoky Mountains Ranger

“Jody. What did the man do when he caught you on the trail?” He steered her around a particularly rocky section and past some thorny shrubs.

She murmured her thanks and straightened. She could do this. She had to. For Tracy’s sake. “He told me I had something of his and he wanted it. He said if I didn’t give it to him, he would...he would kill Tracy.” In spite of her efforts to stay calm, tears tracked down her cheeks. “He had her phone, showed it to me. That’s how I knew he was telling the truth. He must have texted me to meet him there, pretending he was her. No way could he have gotten her phone without taking it from her. That thing is practically attached at her hip.”

He pulled her to a halt and grasped her shoulders. “What do you have that he wants?”

“I don’t have anything. I swear. He insisted I have pictures, maybe a video, or knew where they were. He said my boss had seen something he shouldn’t have and that there was a gap in the time stamps on the pictures.”

“Your boss?”

“Sam Campbell. He’s a private investigator. Tracy and I work for him.” She looked away, panic swelling inside her again. She’d been so stupid. So very, very stupid.

“You know what he’s after, don’t you?” The thread of steel was back in his voice.

She glanced up at him and wiped at the tears on her cheeks. “Not specifically, no. I assume that Sam performed surveillance on him, that he’s one of Sam’s clients. But all of Sam’s pictures and videos are locked up at the office. I told him that. He shook his head, said that he’d searched there already. That’s when we heard you whistling. He told me to keep my mouth shut, that Tracy would die if I told you anything.”

His eyes widened. “You lied to me up on the trail to get me to leave you two alone, knowing he had a gun? If I’d bought your story, you would have been all alone with him. He could have killed you.”

“I know. Looking back, it was stupid. But I didn’t know what else to do. Tracy—” Her voice broke.

“You thought he would kill her if you didn’t do what he told you. You risked your life for her. Whatever happens, you can’t blame yourself. You did what you could.”

She shook her head. “No. I was stupid, too scared to think straight. You don’t make deals with criminals. What I should have done was shove him or something when you came up and yelled a warning.” Her hand shook as she raked her hair back from her face. “You could have been killed.”

He frowned. “Is that why you came looking for me after I chased Tattoo Guy down the trail? You were trying to save me?”

She snorted. “Fat lot of good it did. I just slowed you down. And now you’re all scratched up and out here with me, without a weapon, with a couple of thugs possibly coming after us. I’m such an idiot.”

His warm, strong hand gently urged her chin up so she had to look at him.

She pushed his hand away. “Go ahead. Yell at me. My stupidity has probably gotten my friend killed and nearly got you killed. Every decision I made was wrong. You’d have thought I would have learned better at college.”

“What do you mean?”

“I studied criminal justice, graduated with honors. Not that it means I have any sense. Might as well tear up that piece of paper.”

He frowned. “Aren’t you being a bit hard on yourself? You drove up here because a friend said she needed you. A man chased you with a gun, threatened to kill your friend if you didn’t do what he said. And as soon as you had a chance to escape, instead, you went toward trouble, to help a law enforcement officer you thought was in need. From where I stand, that’s pretty darn amazing.”

She blinked. “What?”

“You have the education, but not the training or the experience. And you’re a civilian, unarmed. You did the best you could. I can’t find fault with any of your decisions.”

“Th...thank you?”

He smiled. “Come on. There are a lot of gaps in your story, like why someone with a criminal justice degree is working part-time as a private investigator.” He tugged her hand, then stopped and looked over his shoulder at her when she pulled back. “Jody?”

“I’m not a private investigator,” she confessed. “And when I tell you the rest, you aren’t going to think I did the best I could or made good decisions. I didn’t.”

He turned to face her. “Go on.”

“Tracy pretty much runs the office. I guess you’d call her an administrative assistant. I help Sam with his cases. But I’m not a licensed investigator, just a recent criminal justice grad trying to get some experience to help me get the job I really want—as a criminal investigator with the prosecutor’s office. But those jobs are few and far between, so I’m working two jobs to make ends meet and trying to get a step up on the competition when the job I want opens up.”

She waved her hand again. “Anyway, my point is that I’m his gofer, his researcher. Sometimes I interview clients and things like that. Sam does all the heavy lifting, and I take care of the grunt work.”

He studied her intently, as if weighing her every word. “So far I’m not hearing any bad decisions or things for you to be worried about.”

She tightened her hands into fists by her sides. “There’s more. I screwed up. I mean, really, really screwed up.” She let out a shaky breath and met his gaze again. “Sam disappeared a week ago. And before you ask, no, it’s not unusual. He’s had a tough time since his wife died of ovarian cancer about a year ago. He hits the bottle too hard. He usually shows up a few days later and will be fine for a while.” She clenched her fists so hard the nails dug into her palms. “We always cover for him when he’s on a binge. Do you understand what I’m telling you? He could lose his license if clients complain that he’s a drunk and messes up cases. And besides that, if he messes up the cases, the income stops rolling in. And, well, Tracy and I both rely on that income. We live paycheck to paycheck. No paycheck means no food, no rent.”

He stared at her intently. “You did more than run errands, didn’t you?”

She nodded. “We may have...pretended to be Sam to some of the clients, through correspondence in the mail...to close out cases, resolve issues.”

“You operated as PIs without a license. You’re worried that you may have committed fraud. Even worse, mail fraud. That’s a felony.”

She winced and looked away.

The silence stretched out between them.

“Jody. There’s more, isn’t there?”

She nodded slowly.

His sigh could have knocked over a tree. “Go on. Might as well tell me the rest.”

She swallowed, then forced herself to meet his gaze. Surprisingly, it wasn’t the cold, judgmental look she’d expected. Instead, he looked at her with something far worse.

Pity.

She stiffened her spine and confessed the rest of her sins.

“Sam is dead. Tracy and I killed him.”

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