You smell like peroxide, Faith said, interrupting his thoughts.
Another problem with women: they were intuitive and observant. He shouldnt have been standing so close to her. By gazing at her appreciatively and acting flirtatious, hed invited her to ask him personal questions.
Denying the obvious was no use, so he tugged the beanie off his head and braced himself. How bad is it?
Pretty bad.
Stupidly, he regretted the dye job. He wanted her to think him handsome.
Did you lose a bet?
Yeah. Sort of.
She reached up to touch his hair, rubbing a few strands between her fingertips. He could see down the front of her tank top, which was disconcerting. I could fix it, she said, dropping her hand. Im a hairdresser.
Really?
Yes. Colors my specialty. I do mine.
He evaluated her pretty brown eyes and honeyed skin tone. Youre not a natural blonde?
She laughed, swatting him on the shoulder. Thats for me to know.
The guide presented a pair of life jackets, dispelling the mood. Any clothes they wanted to stay dry had to be placed in waterproof sacks. Javier removed his T-shirt, watching Faith pull her tank top over her head.
Coño.
Before she put on her life jacket, he got an eyeful of her breasts, covered by little scraps of fabric. They looked real. He wasnt the type of man who cared either way, but hed seen so many strippers lately that her subtle curves seemed exotic in comparison.
Tearing his gaze away, he shoved his T-shirt into his backpack and placed it in the plastic. His shorts werent for swimming, but theyd have to suffice. She stared at his bare chest, her lips curving into a smile.
Bring on the cold water. He needed it.
* * *
WHEN SAM PUT his arm around her, Hope buried her face in his shirt, shuddering.
He was a jerk, but his strength felt reassuring. Shed almost peed her pants a second ago. His heartbeat thumped against her cheek, alive, alive, alive.
Any chance this was self-inflicted?
She forced herself to move away from him and take a better look inside the cockpit. There was a handgun on the seat next to the pilot, and shells from two different weapons. It looked like a close-range gunfight. No.
Sam turned his back on the wreckage with a grimace, keeping his distance while she photographed the scene. Or maybe he was keeping watch. She noticed his eyes scanning the mountains and trees nearby.
There were few clues inside the fuselage. She didnt see any illegal cargo or formal identification. From what she could surmise, the 9 mm next to the pilot wasnt responsible for his death. Hed returned fire with his killer. She took pictures of the weapon and a pair of bullet holes on the opposite side of the fuselage.
She was about to report to headquarters when static buzzed over the planes radio. Her heart seized at the sound of a mans voice. Del Norte, come in. Ya, contesta.
Hope rushed forward to pick up the receiver. Swallowing hard, she pressed the button to speak. This is Ranger Banning of Sierra National Park. I need some information about this aircraft and pilot, over.
The man ended the communication.
She replaced the receiver, her mouth dry. Careful not to touch anything else, she exited the fuselage.
What was that? Sam asked.
Someone called on the planes radio. When I answered, they hung up.
You answered?
Yes.
He thrust a hand through his short hair. Fuck!
What?
I dont like this. Lets get the hell out of here.
She wasnt a big fan of the situation, either. There had never been a murder at Angel Wings. It could be days before a thorough investigation was organized. The logistics of processing a crime scene on a remote mountaintop were dizzying.
They also had a killer to find. He must have left the area on foot.
She walked away from the plane, examining their surroundings. A hiking trail led down the backside of the mountain and ended at the Kaweah River Campsite. Where shed dropped off Faith this morning.
I have to go after him.
He gaped at her in disbelief. You cant be serious.
Im dead serious, she said.
Youre not a homicide detective.
No, but I have to protect the parks visitors, and its my job to investigate any crimes committed here.
Alone?
She frowned at his incredulous tone. Tracking a single assailant by herself wasnt against procedure. Park rangers often worked solo, especially in the backcountry. But it was unorthodox, and perhaps unwise, to hunt down a murderer without help. Hes got to be headed for the Kaweah. Faith is there.
Whos Faith?
My sister.
Hope would do anything for Faith. She loved her with the fierce protectiveness of an older sibling and the deep loyalty of a best friend. Faith had always meant the world to her, but their connection had become even stronger after a heartbreaking incident in her past. Hope had lost someone precious to her, and shed vowed never to let it happen again.
Sam swore under his breath. There was no way he could talk Hope out of pursuing the suspect. You cant make it to the river before dark. Lets rappel down, go back to Mineral King and call for help.
She shook her head, stubborn. I have three more hours of daylight. I wont waste it by traveling backward.
You can drive to the Kaweah camp faster!
That was true, but Faith wasnt at the campsite. She was rafting down a river that intersected the killers path. I might not be able to pick up his trail from there. I know I can track it from here.
You should wait for backup.
She didnt have time to argue, so she radioed Dispatch and relayed the details. Send a couple of rangers to look for any suspicious activity at Kaweah. We need to contact the sheriffs department, monitor the exits and put all park employees on alert.
The dispatcher repeated her instructions and signed off. Although the ground was too dry and rocky for footprints, Hope noticed signs of a disturbance. Drag marks, she said to Sam, following them down the trail. They led to a pair of boulders about a hundred feet away. There was a crack between them large enough to hide another body.
While Sam watched her, his face taut as a bowstring, she removed her gun from the waistband of her pants.
In her five years as a ranger, shed drawn her weapon only a handful of times. Shed aimed it once, last summer. A drunken idiot was shooting at marmots near the Giant Forest Campsite. When shed shouted a warning for him to put down the gun, hed swung around to face her, pointing his .38 at her chest. Shed damn near fired on reflex.
Incidents like that were rare, however. Most of the parks visitors were law-abiding, nature-loving people. Guns were allowed inside park boundaries, but discharging a firearm was strictly prohibited.
That didnt mean her job wasnt dangerous. Hope was more likely to be assaulted in the line of duty than an FBI agent. Rangers stationed at the parks along the Mexican border were targeted by drug cartels, but the Sierras had their share of narcotics-related crime, as well. Secret marijuana fields, guarded by armed men, had become increasingly common. These brazen growers used federal land for their crops.
This is Ranger Banning of Sierra National Park, she called out, holding her weapon at her side. Anyone there?
Wind skimmed across the mountain. The sun was still bright, but the temperature had dropped and the air felt cooler. Hope shivered in her damp tank top. Gesturing for Sam to stay back, she crept forward, pointing her gun at the rocks. A jumble of dark shapes came into view. Her eyes struggled to identify a human form and failed.
Duffel bags. She was looking at a pile of duffel bags.
Hope lowered her weapon, releasing a slow breath. She made sure the safety was on and replaced it in her waistband. When she stepped close enough to reach between the boulders, Sam was right there beside her.
The duffel bag she removed was large and heavy. She unzipped it, revealing what appeared to be high-grade marijuana. It was in loose brick form, lightly compressed and wrapped in plastic to disguise the skunky odor.
Sam let out a low whistle.
Hope looked in another bag and found the exact same contents. Ten bags, each weighing about forty pounds, equaled...a whole lot of drugs. It was probably local. Sierras finest had a street value of about five thousand dollars per pound. She estimated the pots worth at over a million dollars.
Someone will be looking for this, he said.
Yes.
All the more reason to go back to Mineral King.
Hope agreed that the illegal cargo escalated the danger. Protecting park visitorsFaith includedwas imperative. If she didnt go after the suspect and someone got hurt, shed be devastated.
Saying nothing, she photographed the evidence and replaced it. When she was finished, she updated Dispatch and requested a radio communication with Ron Laramie, the rafting guide. He wouldnt be answering calls while on the river, but he was supposed to check in after the group stopped to camp.
She prayed for good news.
Im going to Kaweah, she said to Sam, shrugging out of her pack. You can head back to Mineral King. Just give me the overnight gear before you leave.
He frowned at the trail that led down the mountain. How different he seemed from the man shed met at Long Pine Lodge. That night, hed been relaxed and charming. Shed known he was Sam Rutherford, reclusive Olympic champion, but he hadnt acted arrogant or self-important. Theyd laughed together and spoken of inconsequential things. Shed been fascinated by him. And wildly attracted.
But Jekyll had turned into Hyde after hed gotten what he wanted. She still remembered waiting outside in the snow for a cab. Big, fat snowflakes melting in her hair. Hot tears sliding down her face.
And when shed offered to forget about it, hed flinched as if the suggestion pained him. What was his problem?
Other than making the foolish decision to go home with a man she didnt know well, shed done nothing wrong. She wasnt in the habit of sleeping with strangers. It was a week before the holidays; shed been tipsy and lonely.
Today, he was more Hyde than Jekyll. She understood that he considered their one-night stand a mistake, and that he didnt want to be reminded of his boorish behavior. He felt so uneasy around her that it threw off his climbing rhythm. Hed appeared anxious on an ascent he could have done blindfolded.
Or at night. Without ropes.
To be fair, his current duress was probably related to the crime scene, not her. He couldnt wait to get out of here.
No, he said flatly.
No?
Im not giving you the gear. Lets go.
Im going that way. She pointed at the footpath.
Youll freeze tonight.
I have a jacket and a safety blanket in my pack.
He made a skeptical sound. Even in the summer, temperatures at the higher altitudes often dropped below thirty degrees, and the weather could change at a moments notice. If a storm blew in, shed be screwed.
As long as I keep walking, Ill be fine.
You cant track in the dark.
Her temper flared. Tamping it down, she forced a smile. Then Ill build a shelter and make a fire. I dont need the extra gear.
A muscle in his jaw flexed.
Im leaving either way, so you might as well give it to me.
No.
She realized that he wasnt going to budge. Annoyed with his attempt to deter her, she put on her backpack and started walking. He was lucky she didnt commandeer the tent and sleeping bag at gunpoint. Bastard.
Goddamn it, he said, following her down the mountain.
She whirled to face him. What are you doing?
What does it look like? Im coming with you.
CHAPTER FOUR
FAITH WAS HAVING more fun than shed anticipated.
The rapids were scary, and she didnt like the way the boat bobbed up and down on the surface of the water, threatening to dump its inhabitants, but a foot brace prevented her from falling overboard. Although the required helmet was dorky, and a boxy life jacket covered her cute new bikini top, both would protect her in a spill.
She didnt really have to exert herself, either. The guide, who called himself Captain Ron, did the bulk of the paddling, shouting directions for assistance every so often. With Ron behind her, Caleb in front and Jay at her side, she felt insulated from danger. They probably didnt need her help, but she paddled just to be a good sport.
The best part of the trip, by far, was Jay. Her heart skipped a beat every time he gave her a reassuring smile. He was distractingly hot, even with quirky clothes and dye-scorched hair. Before they disembarked, hed donned a pair of hideous square-framed sunglasses that reminded her of Napoleon Dynamite. It was almost as if he was trying to hide his handsomeness under a nerd disguise.
He couldnt hide the body, though. His torso was lean and strong, his arms well defined and his stomach rippled with muscle. When he dipped his paddle into the water, biceps flexing, her throat went dry and her thoughts scattered.
The day flew by. After lunch, they hit a long, easy stretch that didnt demand much maneuvering. Caleb waxed stoner-poetic on everything from the sun sparkling on the water to the immense height of the surrounding trees. Although Faith wasnt a nature lover, she thought peaceful quiet would better suit the atmosphere. When he launched into another implausible rafting tale, Ron rolled his eyes in Faiths direction. Jay caught sight of the expression and laughed, glancing away.
Whats so funny? Caleb asked him.
Nothing, Jay said.
He thinks youre full of shit, Ted supplied.
Caleb looked over his shoulder at Faith. Maybe his boasting was meant to impress her, but she couldnt suppress a giggle at his expense. He returned his attention to Jay, squinting with antagonism. Oh yeah?
Although Jay didnt look intimidated, Captain Ron came to the rescue. I tried to run a six-plus on the American River once.
What happened? Paula asked.
I got dumped.
Everyone laughed except Caleb, and the conversation moved on to less contentious topics. Jay didnt say a word but managed to monopolize her complete attention. Whenever she snuck a peek at him, he was watching her.
The last run of the day was a monster. It churned fast and furious between jagged chunks of granite, eager to chew them up and spit them out.