Cindi Myers - Danger On Dakota Ridge

“No.” He had overseen an investigation into an underground laboratory that had been discovered on the property, but his team had found no signs of illegal activity.

“The new owners say they’re going to use the property to build a high-altitude research facility,” she said. “Did you know that?”

“I heard something to that effect,” he said. “What do you think of that idea?” Paige headed up the local environmental group that had gotten the injunction that stopped development at the resort years ago.

“It’s better than a resort that only gets used half the year,” she said. “Depending on what they research, that kind of facility might actually do some good, and I wouldn’t expect a lot of traffic or other stressors on the environment. We’ll wait and see what they plan to do, and we’ll definitely have some of our members at their permit hearings.”

“Do you ever worry you’ll get on the wrong side of the wrong person?” he asked.

She stopped so suddenly he almost collided with her. She turned to face him. “No, I’m not afraid,” she said. “The kinds of people we do battle with—people or companies who want to do harmful things for their own gain, without thought for others—they want us to be afraid. They count on it, even. I’m not going to give them that satisfaction.” She turned and started walking again.

“You don’t think that’s foolhardy sometimes?” he asked, picking up his pace and squeezing in beside her. “Not everyone plays by the rules. Some of them can be downright nasty.” He had met his share of the second type in his years in drug enforcement.

“I try to be smart and careful, but I’m not going to back down when I’m in the right.”

There was that passion again, practically sparking from her eyes. He couldn’t help but admire that about her, even when they had been sparring on opposite sides of a battle. “Tell the sheriff what you saw,” he said. “Then let him and his deputies handle this. Don’t go up there by yourself again.”

“I told you I try to be smart,” she said. “Next time I’ll go up there with other people. I might even have a reporter with me.” She smiled. “Yes, I think that would be a great idea. Companies like CNG hate bad publicity.”

They reached the trailhead, where his black pickup truck was parked beside her red Prius. She studied the truck. “Is that yours?” she asked.

“Yes. It’s my personal vehicle. I told you, I’m on vacation.”

She turned to him again. “I just realized I’ve never seen you when you weren’t wearing a suit.” Her gaze swept over his hiking boots and jeans, over the blue plaid flannel shirt, up to his hair, which he hadn’t found time to get cut lately. He felt self-conscious under that piercing gaze, wondering if he measured up. Did Paige like what she saw? Was he vain, hoping the answer was yes?

But her expression was impossible to decipher. He half expected her to say something derogatory, or at least mocking. Instead, she said, “I guess the truck suits you.”

What was that supposed to mean? But before he could ask her, she stashed the pack in the back seat of the Prius, climbed into the driver’s seat and sped away, leaving him standing beside his truck, feeling that, once again, Paige had gotten the upper hand.

* * *

OF THE PEOPLE she might have expected to encounter on the trail that morning, Paige had to admit that DEA agent Rob Allerton was probably five hundredth on the list of possibilities. Sure, he had ended up in Eagle Mountain a month ago, leading an investigation into that underground lab, but she had managed to avoid crossing paths with him. Once he had wrapped that up and gone back to live and work in Denver, she had comforted herself that she would never have to see the man again.

Now that she was alone, and the full impact of what had happened up on Dakota Ridge was making her break out in a cold sweat, she could admit that she had been relieved to see him, once she realized he wasn’t a friend of the shooters. Rob Allerton might be a coldhearted pain in the behind, but he had probably been armed, and he knew how to handle criminals. For all her talk of not letting fear make her back down, she had been relieved not to have to face those two men and their guns by herself.

She gripped the steering wheel more tightly and glanced in the rearview mirror, to see Rob’s Ford pickup behind her. She might have known he would drive a truck. He had always had a bit of a cowboy swagger—something she might have admired if they hadn’t been adversaries.

And they were adversaries, she reminded herself. Rob Allerton was the reason her brother, Parker, had ended up in jail, instead of in a rehab program where he belonged. She had fought like a mama bear—and spent most of her savings—to get her little brother into a program that would help him, and to get the sentence deferred if he completed all the requirements of his parole. Allerton hadn’t lifted a finger to help her, and had in fact spoken out against any leniency for Parker. She was never going to forgive him for that.

Remembering how she had won that battle, and that Parker was all right now and well on his way to putting his life back together, calmed her. She rubbed her shoulder, where it ached from carrying the pack and tools, and slid her hand around to massage the back of her neck, then froze. Her fingers groped around her collar, then back to the front of her throat, under her T-shirt. Her necklace was gone—the thin gold chain from which hung the gold charm of a bird in flight. She had purchased the necklace shortly after her divorce, as a symbol that she was free as a bird. She never took it off—but it was gone now. She swore to herself. The chain must have caught in the bushes when she pushed through them to get a better look at those two men. Or maybe when she had retreated.

She would have to go back up there later and look for it. But she wouldn’t go alone. She would take plenty of friends with her, and she would make sure they were armed with more than bolt cutters and saws.

By the time she parked the Prius in front of the Rayford County Sheriff’s Department, she felt ready to relate her story calmly. She headed up the walkway, only to meet Rob Allerton at the front door.

He held the door open for her. “After you.”

“Are you following me?” she asked.

“I needed to check in with the sheriff anyway,” he said.

“Why? I thought you said you were here on vacation.”

“Just professional courtesy, to let him know I’m in town.” He followed her into the reception area. “Besides, I can add my account of the shooting to yours.”

“Agent Allerton! What a nice surprise!” Adelaide Kinkaid, the sixtysomething administrator for the sheriff’s department, greeted Rob with a wide smile. She didn’t exactly flutter her eyelashes at him, but the implication was there.

“Ms. Kinkaid. Nice to see you again.” Rob clasped her hand and flashed a smile of his own, and Adelaide looked as if she might swoon. Paige crossed her arms over her chest and looked away. Honestly! It wasn’t as if Rob Allerton was the only good-looking man on the planet. Yes, he had that young Jake Gyllenhaal charm going on that probably appealed to Adelaide’s generation, but Paige had always liked men who were a little rougher around the edges. Less glib. Less deceptive.

“I just stopped by to say hello to the sheriff,” Rob said. “Ms. Riddell needs to make a report of an incident up on Dakota Ridge, though.”

“Oh, hello, Paige,” Adelaide said. “I didn’t see you standing there.”

“No, I don’t imagine you did,” Paige muttered.

“Did you say an incident? On Dakota Ridge?” Sheriff Travis Walker, Gage’s brother, joined them in the reception area. Clean-shaven and spit polished, Travis could have been a law enforcement poster boy. The fact that he was smarter than most and full of grit had made him a local hero, and at twenty-nine, the youngest sheriff in Rayford County history.