Danger On Dakota Ridge. Cindi Myers

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      “I’m going out,” he said.

      “With who?”

      “A friend.”

      “Do I know this friend?”

      “I doubt it.”

      “Parker, we are not going to do this.”

      “Do what?” He didn’t bother trying to look innocent. If anything, he was annoyed.

      “Don’t make me give you the third degree,” she said. “Just tell me who you’re going out with. I don’t think that’s too much to ask.”

      “And it’s not too much for me to ask that you give me a little privacy.”

      A flood of words came to mind, beginning with the notion that he had violated his right to privacy when he had gotten hooked on drugs, broken the law and gone to prison. But she had vowed when she took him in that she wasn’t going to throw his mistakes back in his face. Her husband had done that and she knew how miserable and degraded it made her feel. So she swallowed back most of what she wanted to say.

      “Be careful, and be quiet when you come in,” she said.

      “I will.” Carrying the rest of his sandwich, he retreated to his room off the kitchen. Paige sagged against the counter. She was exhausted and it wasn’t even one o’clock yet. Big guys with guns, Rob Allerton and her troublesome baby brother—maybe what she really needed was a vacation from men.

      * * *

      WHEN ROB AND Travis arrived at the entrance to the former Eagle Mountain Resort, Rob wasn’t surprised to find the gates shut tight. “This is how they were this morning when I stopped here,” he said. He peered through the iron bars at what had once been the resort’s main street. Weeds sprouted in holes in the asphalt, and in places the paving had disappeared altogether, the road little more than a gravel wash. A weathered sign still proclaimed that this was the future site of Eagle Mountain Resort, a Luxury Property from Hake Development. No sign of luxury remained in the crumbling foundations and sun-bleached wood of the few structures scattered about the property. Rocks ranging from those the size of a man’s head to boulders as big as small cars spilled down from the ridge above at the site of a major rock slide where two men had been killed earlier in the year.

      “It doesn’t look any different than it did when I was here a month ago,” Rob said.

      “I’m guessing if CNG does plan to develop the place—for a research facility or anything else—they’ll wait until spring,” Travis said. “In another few months there will be eight to ten feet of snow up here. The county doesn’t plow the road up this far and there’s always a danger of avalanches on the ridge. It’s one reason the judge agreed with Paige’s group that a housing development up here was a bad idea.”

      Rob looked again at the deserted street. “What do we do now?” he asked.

      “Let’s hike up the trail a ways,” Travis said. “You can show me where you were when you heard the shots, and where you ran into Paige.”

      They drove back down the road to the public trailhead, then started hiking uphill. After about half a mile, the trail began to parallel the fence line for CNG’s property. The black iron fence, eight feet tall and topped with curls of razor wire, was almost hidden in places by a thick growth of wild roses and scrub oak, but in other spots the undergrowth thinned enough to provide a glimpse through the bars of the fence.

      “About this point is where I heard the shots,” Rob said. “I thought they came from the other side of the fence. I picked up speed and I hadn’t gone far when I saw Paige running down the trail toward me. I thought at first someone was pursuing her, but then I realized she was alone. She said two men had shot at her. Then my focus became getting her safely away.”

      “Did you stop by the entrance to the property before you went to the trailhead, the way we did just now?” Travis asked.

      “Yes. The gates were locked and I didn’t see anyone. No cars or anything.”

      “Let’s see if we can figure out where Paige could have seen the shooters,” Travis said.

      They moved up the trail, which soon curved sharply, still following the fence line. Another hundred feet and they came to an opening in the wall of bushes and vines next to the trail. Broken branches and scuffs in the leaf litter told the tale of someone plunging into this opening—and exiting in a hurry.

      Travis went first, with Rob close behind. Bending over, they had a clear view onto the resort property, but what they saw was unremarkable—a few stunted evergreens, oak brush with the last brown leaves of summer clinging to it, and some dried grasses. Travis took binoculars from his belt and scanned the area. “I don’t see anything,” he said.

      They waited a moment, listening, but heard only the sound of their own breathing. The silence and the deserted—abandoned, really—property made Rob feel uneasy. “I don’t think we’re going to find anything here today,” he said, keeping his voice low.

      “No.” They returned to the trail and started back toward the parking area. “I could try for a warrant to search the place,” Travis said. “But I doubt a judge would grant the request.”

      “They were shooting at an unarmed woman,” Rob said. “A woman who wasn’t even on their property.”

      “That’s what Paige said happened, but she wasn’t hit and there weren’t any witnesses.”

      Rob started to object, but Travis cut him off. “I know—it’s not like her to make things up. I’m just telling you what CNG’s lawyers are going to say.”

      “I heard the shots,” Rob said.

      “Right. People shoot guns all the time out here—at targets, at animals. It’s elk season right now. Maybe they were hunting. It’s not illegal to shoot off a gun.”

      Rob blew out a sigh of frustration. “So what do we do now?”

      “We keep an eye on the place and look for a reason—any reason—to come back up here and take a closer look.”

      They fell silent, trudging down the trail. The sun was already disappearing behind the ridge, a chill descending in the fading light. Rob shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and reviewed the events of the morning in his head. Had he missed something—some clue that would help them figure out what was really going on? Had Paige’s presence distracted him from noticing everything he should have noticed?

      They reached the parking lot and Travis’s SUV. The sheriff pulled out his keys and pressed the button to unlock the vehicle, but he froze in the act of reaching for the door handle, his gaze fixed on the door.

      “What is it?” Rob, who had already opened the passenger door, asked.

      “Take a look.”

      Rob walked around to the driver’s side and stared at the thin gold chain affixed over the door handle with a piece of clear tape. A gold charm shaped like a bird dangled from the chain, stirred by a slight breeze. The sight of the delicate, feminine ornament so out of place sent a chill through him. “That looks like the necklace Paige СКАЧАТЬ