Lara Lacombe - Ranger's Justice

“I see.”

“And a hat,” he added. “You’ll probably want sunglasses, too.”

Rebecca’s expression was one of resignation. “This isn’t going to be as easy as I’d hoped.”

“I was a Boy Scout growing up,” Quinn explained. “And what kind of park ranger would I be if I didn’t insist on taking safety precautions before we set out?”

“Where can I get this stuff?” she asked on a sigh.

“I have a spare pack at home,” he said. “But we’ll need to head into town to get you the right pants.”

“Let’s go, then. I don’t want to lose any more time than necessary.”

Chapter 3

It didn’t take long to reach the feed store. She spent the drive in the passenger seat, typing out a message to Frank, telling him of her plans to go out on the trail with Quinn. She told him she’d check in by 9:00 pm, just as a precaution. Having taken care of that, Quinn led her inside the store and pointed out the style of pants she should buy. Rebecca tried on her size and, satisfied with the result, ripped off the tag and brought it to the register.

“Might as well wear them out,” she said. She grabbed a second pair and looked at Quinn. “What else do I need?”

He picked up a wide-brimmed hat and set it on top of the pants. “This’ll do. I have everything else.”

She paid for everything and they returned to the car. “My apartment isn’t far,” he said quietly.

He directed her to a small complex near the edge of the town and led her up a flight of stairs to a door on the second floor. Rebecca glanced around, surprised at the beauty of the view. “You can see the mountains from here,” she remarked.

Quinn glanced behind him as he unlocked the door. “Yeah. It’s especially pretty at sunrise and sunset.”

He walked inside, holding the door so she could follow. She stepped into the living room and saw the kitchen off to the right. A short hall extended to the left, where she assumed his bedroom was.

“Bathroom is just that way,” he said, indicating the hall with a nod. “If you need it.”

She didn’t, but it gave her an excuse to snoop. “Thanks.” She headed down the hall as he opened a closet door in the living room and began to rummage inside. Satisfied he was occupied, she risked a quick glance into his bedroom. Nothing fancy; she noted a bed and a side table sporting a lamp and a framed picture.

His wife , she guessed. It was too far away for her to make out the image, but who else would it be?

She ducked into the bathroom, which was small but clean. She reached for the mirrored cabinet hanging on the wall, then hesitated. It felt wrong to invade Quinn’s privacy by snooping in his medicine cabinet, but she needed to know if he was taking anything that might make him an unreliable source. Pushing aside the hint of guilt, she opened the cabinet and was greeted with the sight of nothing special. His toothbrush, toothpaste and razor were there, along with a few bottles of ibuprofen and an over-the-counter allergy medication. Certainly nothing that suggested drug abuse, or any physical or mental health issues. It was possible he kept medication in his bedside table drawer, but from what she saw here, Quinn appeared to be a healthy man. It all fit with the results of his background check—by all reports, Quinn was a law-abiding guy who had never been in trouble with the authorities.

She quietly closed the cabinet, then flushed the toilet and ran the faucet to make it sound like she’d used the facilities. She stepped back into the hall and headed for the living room to find Quinn sitting on the floor, two backpacks in front of him. He had opened one and was methodically going through the supplies, apparently double-checking the contents against a mental list.

“Mind if I get something to drink?”

He shook his head, not bothering to look up. “There’s bottled water in the fridge. Grab me one, too, please. We need to start hydrating before we set out.”

Rebecca headed into the kitchen, noting it was just as tidy as the bathroom. No dishes cluttered the sink, and aside from a coffee maker, the counters were bare. She opened the fridge, half-expecting it to be empty. But it was stocked with a variety of fruits and vegetables, along with a gallon of milk, some juice and a few condiments. There was a full six-pack of beer shoved to the back of the shelf, which told her Quinn wasn’t much of a drinker. She found the water and grabbed two bottles, then headed back into the living room.

Quinn was packing up the first bag and as she walked over, he zipped it closed and reached for the second pack. He hesitated a brief second, then opened it and began the inventory process again.

“Everything okay?” she asked. She settled onto the rug across from him and took a sip of water. She felt her eyes grow wide as he pulled an impressive assortment of gear from the small bag.

“Yep.” He cracked open his own water bottle and took a healthy drink. “Just double-checking everything before we set out.”

“Do we really need all this stuff?” There were ropes, a flashlight, a small pill bottle containing cotton and a few matches, a first-aid kit, some kind of strange-looking tube, a small shiny square wrapped in plastic and many more items she didn’t recognize. She reached for the flashlight, flicking it on. “We’re not going to be out at night.”

Quinn reached over and took the light, turning it off before setting it back on the floor. “You never know,” he said. “Better to have it and not need it than the opposite. I’ve seen too many hikers get into trouble because they thought they could skimp on safety.”

“Fair enough.” She wouldn’t ask a fellow agent to go into a raid without a bulletproof vest, and the feel of her ankle holster was a reminder she’d made her own preparations for this hike. She couldn’t really blame Quinn for doing his job properly.

Even though it meant her back would ache the whole trip.

“It’s not as heavy as you think,” Quinn said, apparently reading her mind. “If you pack it properly so the weight is evenly distributed, it’s not that bad. The heaviest thing you’ll be carrying is water, and that will get lighter as we go.”

“If you say so,” she said, unable to keep a note of doubt from her voice. Given the amount of gear Quinn was shoving back into the bag, Rebecca didn’t see how that was possible. But he sounded confident, so she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.

For now.

She watched him inspect each item, then place it back into the bag. He worked quickly but competently, and Rebecca was surprised to find she enjoyed seeing him work. His hands sported a warm golden tan from time spent outside, and there was a light dusting of hair on his wrists. His long fingers moved nimbly, and she was suddenly struck with a curious desire to know how his hands would feel on her skin. The errant thought sent a burst of warmth through her limbs, and she shifted, trying to ignore the feeling.

It’s just a physical reaction, that’s all , she told herself. As she’d noticed during their first meeting, Quinn was a handsome man. It was only natural her body would respond in kind. But that didn’t mean she was going to act on this attraction. A shiver went down her spine as the faces of the two victims flashed in her mind. Both women had been redheads, just like her. And just like Quinn’s wife. How would he respond once they got out on the trail? His reaction would tell her a lot about his connection to these murders.

But even if Quinn hadn’t been tied to the investigation, she wasn’t ready for a relationship again. She’d tried to date a few months ago, figuring that by a year after Brandon’s murder she should make some kind of effort to connect with a man. But her heart hadn’t really been in it, and her efforts had stalled after a few lackluster dinners. Rebecca didn’t want to spend the rest of her life alone, but she wasn’t about to force herself into a relationship just so she could check that box.