Cindi Myers - Danger On Dakota Ridge

Paige quickly backed out of her hiding place, fighting the branches that snagged on her clothing and tangled in her pack. She swatted a vine out of her way and a thorn pricked her thumb, a bead of bright red blood welling against her white flesh. The tools in her backpack clanged like out-of-tune wind chimes as she pushed her way back toward the trail.

“Hey!” a man yelled.

Something whistled through the air past her and struck a tree to her left, sending splinters flying. A second gunshot followed the first. Paige yelped and ran, heart racing and legs pumping. Those maniacs were shooting at her! You couldn’t shoot at someone on a public trail! Gage was definitely going to hear about this.

They weren’t shooting anymore. They probably couldn’t get a clear view of her. The trail was downhill and Paige ran fast. The two men would have to fight through heavy underbrush and get over or around that fence to pursue her. She had left her car parked at the trailhead and she was sure she could get to it before they could.

Idiots! In what universe did they think they could get away with something like this? You could bet she would be filing charges. She’d call the papers, too. CNG would get plenty of bad publicity from this fiasco. And when the corporate lawyers came calling to apologize and persuade her to settle out of court, she’d use that leverage to have them remove that gate over the trail. In fact, she’d make sure they donated some of their high-value ridgetop property as a conservation easement. They would have to if they had any hope of recovering their precious reputation.

Buoyed by these plans, she jogged down the trail, head bent, watching for roots and other obstacles that might trip her up. She didn’t see the big man in the dark coat who stepped out in front of her—didn’t register his presence at all until she crashed into him and his arms wrapped around her, holding her tight.

Chapter Two

As a DEA agent for the past fifteen years, Rob Allerton had faced down his share of men and women who wanted to kill him, but none had outright tried to run him over. The sound of gunfire had sent him charging up the trail, only to be almost mowed down by a female hiker who fought like a tornado when he grabbed hold of her to steady them both. He managed to pin her on the ground, then satisfied himself that she wasn’t armed—and therefore probably not the source of the shots he had heard.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, speaking slowly and distinctly in her ear, ignoring the alluring floral fragrance that rose from the soft skin of her neck. “I’m a law enforcement officer. I only want to help.” Carefully, he eased back and released his hold on her.

She sat up and swept a fall of straight honey-blond hair out of her eyes, and he felt the angry look she lasered at him in the pit of his stomach—and farther south, to tell the truth. He hadn’t seen Paige Riddell in almost two years, but she wasn’t the kind of woman a man forgot easily.

“Agent Allerton.” She pronounced his name as if it was a particularly distasteful disease. He had figured out the first day they met that she seldom bothered masking her feelings or suppressing her passions. Feeling the heat of her hatred only made him wonder what it would be like to be on the receiving end of her love.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded, standing and dusting dirt from the knees of her jeans.

He rose also. “I heard gunshots. Was someone shooting at you?”

“ I certainly wasn’t shooting at them .” She adjusted her pack, which clanked as she shifted her weight.

He frowned at the dark blue backpack. “Is that a saw you’re carrying?” He walked around her to get a better look. “And a pair of bolt cutters?” He moved back in front of her. “What have you been up to?”

“None of your business.” She tried to walk past him, but he blocked her way. She glared up at him, with those clear gray eyes that still had the power to mesmerize.

“It’s my business if someone was shooting at you.” He touched her upper arm, wary of startling her. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He should have asked the questions earlier, but he was so surprised to find her here he had forgotten himself.

“I’m fine.” She shrugged off his hand, but he recognized the pallor beneath her tan.

“Who fired those shots?” he asked. “It sounded like a semiautomatic.”

She glanced over her shoulder, in the direction she had run from. “I’m not going to stand here, waiting for them to come back,” she said. “If you want to talk, you can come with me.”

He let her move past him this time, and fell into step just behind her on the narrow trail. “Did you get a look at the shooters?” he asked. “Was it anyone you know?”

“I don’t know who they were—two men up at the old Eagle Mountain Resort.” She gestured toward the property to their left. The trail had turned away from the fence line and descended away from the property. “I spotted them carrying a big wooden crate through the woods. They lowered it into an underground chamber of some kind. At least, they both disappeared through some kind of trapdoor in the ground, and came out without the crate. I guess they saw me watching and fired. I took off running. They were on the other side of that big fence, so they couldn’t chase me.”

“Maybe they thought you were trying to break in,” he said. “Were you using those bolt cutters on their fence?” He wished he could see her face, but she didn’t look at him, and walked fast enough so that he had to work to keep up with her.

“No, I was not trying to break through their fence,” she said.

“What were you doing? Bolt cutters and a saw aren’t typical hiking gear.”

“I was going to cut the illegal lock off their illegal gate over a legal public hiking trail,” she said. “I have a copy of a court order instructing them to remove the lock and open the gate, which they haven’t done.”

“So you decided to take matters into your own hands,” he said.

“The lock was too tough,” she said. “I’ll have to get someone up here with power tools or a torch or something.” She might have been discussing her plans to build a community playground or something equally as virtuous. Then again, Paige Riddell probably saw opening up a public trail as just as worthy an enterprise. This was the Paige he remembered, absolutely certain in her definitions of right and wrong, and that she, of course, was in the right.

“You’re not worried someone is going to shoot at you again?” he asked. “Next time they might not miss.”

She glanced back at him. “I’m going to report this to the sheriff. I was on a public trail. They had no right to fire on me. Even if I’d been trespassing—which I was not—they had no right to try to shoot me.”

“You aren’t the first person who’s been fired on up here,” Rob said. “Someone tried to shoot the sheriff and his deputies when they visited the property months ago.”

“So there’s a pattern of unlawful behavior,” she said. “It’s time to put a stop to it.”

“Except no one can ever identify the shooters,” Rob said.

“I could identify these men.” She bent to duck under a low-hanging branch, then glanced back once more. “What are you doing here?” she asked. “I doubt you just decided it was a nice day for a hike.”

“I’m staying in town for a few days—a little vacation time.” Long practice made him reluctant to share his plans with anyone, especially a woman he didn’t know that well, who had made no secret of her dislike of him. “I heard a new company had taken over this property and I wanted to check out what they were doing here.”

“You didn’t find anything illegal when you were there last month, did you?” she asked.