SEAL the Deal (SEAL #2)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Jennifer Reynolds leaned against the hood of her Ford pickup and sipped from a banana, acai and mango smoothie. Tall with a slim athletic build she cut an attractive figure in the khaki and green uniform of an Oregon Parks and Recreation Department Ranger. Her pale blue eyes watched the road out of town from beneath a felt campaign hat. Not one for sunglasses she tended to squint. Which, combined with her upturned nose, full mouth and high cheekbones, gave her a country girl next door look.

A passing pickup tooted its horn and Jenny, as her friends called her, raised her hand and waved. Oakridge, Oregon born and bred she’d left the small town after high school to pursue a career in law. Ten years later she was back having abandoned a corporate salary to pursue her childhood dream job.

As she finished the smoothie an SUV pulled out of the parking lot behind her and stopped alongside. The window lowered revealing a blonde woman in her late fifties.

“Hi Darlene,” said Jenny.

“Afternoon, darlin’,” replied the woman in a southern drawl. “Is class still on at five?”

Jenny nodded. “Yeah, but next month it changes to six. Sam is switching up the rosters.”

Darlene smiled. “Don’t you go canceling on us. Those classes are just the dandiest. I’ve got two new girls comin’ along tonight.”

“The more, the merrier.”

“I haven’t felt this fit since I was running track at Oklahoma State.” She leaned out of the window and whispered. “And, ever since I got that home pole, Steve and I have been at it like jackrabbits.”

Jenny laughed.

“No, seriously. It’s done wonders for my confidence. I never thought pole dancing could be so therapeutic.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

The radio on Jenny’s equipment belt crackled. “Reynolds, you there?”

She recognized her boss Sam’s voice. “Darlene, I have to take this.”

The woman waved. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Jenny watched her drive away as she lifted the radio to her mouth. “Sam, Reynolds here.”

“Jenny, can you shoot over to the Country Club. They’ve got a bear stuck in one of their dumpsters.”

“Again? Seriously boss, do they ever fasten them?”

“Clearly not. Brian says it’s only a little fellow. You’ll be able to handle it, right?”

“I’ll get over there right now.” Jenny stowed the radio and climbed inside the pickup.

She grinned as she drove through the sleepy town and out onto the 58 toward McCredie Springs. A year ago she’d been part of a takeover of a multi-million dollar company. Now, she was speeding through the rolling tree-covered hills of Lane County to rescue an overly inquisitive black bear. She’d always dreamed of being a park ranger, but she’d been swept up in the pressure to attend college and join the corporate world. Long hours, dealing with endless greed and a failed relationship had been the catalyst to move home and pursue that dream.

The McCredie Springs Country Club was located on the outskirts of the Willamette National Forest, the one and a half million-acre park that Jenny helped manage. Technically it was outside of her jurisdiction, but when it came to wildlife that didn’t perturb rangers.

She left the highway and drove along a pine-lined lane and into the opulent grounds. White colonial style villas dotted a landscape of vines, woods, golf greens and fairways. The heart of the estate was a southern mansion that housed the restaurant, day spa and offices. Turning off the main road she passed the swimming pool and stables, heading toward the equipment sheds.

A hundred yards out she spotted one of the bright green police cruisers of the Sheriff’s Department. Two uniformed officers were talking to Brian Douglass, the property manager. She parked a distance away and walked across to join them.

She recognized the officers; Ed and Harold had attended the same high school as her, albeit a few years later.

“Well if it ain’t Jenny the bear wrestling lawyer from New York.” Ed was the mouthier of the two. His hulking partner Harold didn’t say much.

Jenny ignored the jibe and approached the manager. “Hi, Brian.”

He gave a warm smile. “I’m sorry, Jenny. One of the staff forgot to fasten the latch. Came out here this morning and found the little fella inside.” He gestured to a large dumpster positioned under a tree. “These boys were passing by, but they haven’t been much help.”

Ed spat in the dust. “Come on, that ain’t right. I offered to shoot the damn thing.”

Jenny glared at him as she walked across to the dumpster. Lifting the lid she peered inside. A snarl startled her and she dropped it with a clang. Instinctively her hand moved to the butt of the pistol she wore on her belt.

Ed laughed. “What’s wrong Jenny? You scared of the little bear?”

Harold laughed.

Jenny exhaled and lifted the lid again.

In the bottom of the steel dumpster sat a young black bear. She guessed its weight at a little over eighty pounds, most likely a female. The shredded remains of trash bags surrounded the animal. It had evidently climbed in looking for food and couldn’t grip the smooth sides to get out.

She flipped over the lid triggering aggressive roars from the bear. “Brian, I think it might be the same one as last time.”

“Yeah, I figured as much. Once they work out where the food is they keep coming back.”

Jenny strode to the bed of her truck where there was a large metal cage. She dropped the tailgate and hefted the cage to the ground. Then she grabbed a pole with a cord on the end of it and a long piece of two by four. “I’m going to relocate her to the park.”

Brian took the timber from her. “Good idea. I’d hate to have to destroy her.”

Ed watched from a distance. “Be easier to shoot it. There are plenty of bears in the park and this is a nuisance animal.”

Jenny fixed him with an icy look.

“Hey, if I want to shoot it I can. This is Lane County jurisdiction, not National Forest.”

She gestured for Brian to join her at the bin. “Shoot it, Ed. See what happens if you do.”

“Don’t threaten me, Missy,” growled the deputy.

She turned to him and smiled. “That’s not a threat, it’s a promise. You try and destroy that animal and I’ll push this pole sideways up your ass.” A jiggle of the noose emphasized the point.

Ed scowled and Harold chuckled.

“Shut up idiot,” he snapped.

Jenny turned her attention to the bear. “Brian, drop that log in so she can climb it.”

The rancher followed her instructions and a moment later the head of the bear appeared over the lip. Jenny hooked the noose over its head and pulled the animal to the ground. Then with Brian’s help, she maneuvered it into the transportation cage.

Ed watched from a safe distance, hand resting on the butt of his pistol.

“Don’t just stand there. Help us lift the damn crate onto the truck,” bellowed Brian.

The deputies helped out but didn’t hang around for long. With the bear secure they continued their patrol, leaving Brian and Jenny sharing a Bud Light.

“Useless as all hell. Don’t know why the administration staff called them,” said the former rancher.

Jenny finished her beer and tossed it in the dumpster. “Well, this little lady shouldn’t give you any more trouble.” She checked her watch. “I’ve got enough time to get her back to the station, tagged and out into the park.” She climbed into her truck.

“Till next time,” Brian shot through her open window.

“Keep those bins closed.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

* * *

Jenny unwrapped her legs from the floor to ceiling pole and lowered herself slowly to the ground. “OK ladies, last move,” she shouted over the pumping music.

Around her a dozen women dressed like her, in crop tops and leggings, attempted to replicate the move to varying levels of success. When they had all touched down she killed the music.

“Well done, a great effort by everyone. Let’s run through some stretches and wrap it up.”

She’d been instructing the small class at a dance studio in Jacksonville for the past six months. In that time it had grown from a few friends to classes of up to twenty women. Word had spread fast. If it continued she was going to need a bigger premises.

Once the warm down was complete Jenny pulled on a pair of track pants and a hoodie.

“Another fantastic session,” gushed Darlene as she made to leave.

“You’ve really progressed,” she replied, tying her laces.

“Like I said, getting a pole at home was a smart move.”

“Jenny, when are you getting more portable poles?” asked another of the women.

“Yeah, I want one too,” added another.

Grinning she grabbed her gear bag. “They should arrive later in the week. I’ll update my Facebook page as soon as they’re in.”

She left the dance studio and crossed the parking lot to where she’d left her car. On her way she spotted a massive truck parked alongside her Chrysler. A tall figure leaned against the door of a shiny new Ford F-150 Raptor.

She recognized Lieutenant Carter Brown by his trademark Stetson hat and square stubble covered jaw. Dressed in jeans, boots and a check shirt he wore a pistol on his belt. He was the senior officer at the Oakridge Sheriff’s station and a former classmate of Jenny’s.

He tipped his hat as she approached. “Miss Reynolds, how are you this evening?”

She managed a tight-lipped smile as she took out her keys. “I’m good thanks, Carter.”

He stepped away from his truck. “Jenny, look, I dropped by because I wanted to apologize for the way my men acted today. Old man Douglass rang my office and gave me a heads up.”

Jenny turned to the handsome police officer and shrugged. “It was nothing. Boys will be boys.”

He laughed. “True, but I would like to make it up to you by taking you out to dinner.”

“That’s a lovely gesture, Carter, but totally unnecessary. I appreciate the courtesy of a face-to-face apology. Thank you, from one professional to another.”

He took a step closer and placed his hand on the car door. “Look, all I’m asking for is dinner. We’ll grab a steak, my treat. It’ll be good for intra-agency relations.”

Jenny put her key in the lock. “In that case, you should drop by the ranger station and catch up with Sam and the rest of the crew. Bring Ed and Harold, we’ll put on coffee and donuts.”

A scowl split his granite features. “I’m not someone you want to make an enemy of.”

“No one’s trying to make an enemy of you, Carter. I’m just declining your invitation to dinner. As far as I’m aware, that’s not a declaration of hostile intent.”

“You threatened one of my officers today. I could bring you in for that.”

She turned to face him with hands on her hips. “Really? You’re going to arrest me based on a flippant comment that was made in jest.” She held her wrists out. “Take me in, big shot. I’ll take great pleasure in destroying your fantasy in court.”

“Just watch yourself, Jenny.”

She smiled. “I will.”

He turned, opened the door of his pickup and climbed in. The rig rumbled to life and he backed clear before roaring off down the road.

Jenny frowned as she watched the Ford disappear. The Raptor was an expensive truck. Not something a police wage would easily buy. Pushing the thought from her head she climbed into her sedan. She needed to get home, feed her cat, put dinner on and get to bed. The team had an early start in the morning.

* * *

A dozen miles out of Oakridge a battered pickup with a bloodhound in the bed was parked beneath a tree on a dirt track. Two men sat inside. Hank, the older of the two, wore jeans, a denim shirt, battered cowboy boots and a ten gallon hat. Carl wore woodland camouflage pants and a stained USMC T-shirt.

Hank held a cell phone to his ear. “Yeah, no worries we’ll get it done.” He ended the call and slid the phone into his shirt pocket. Pulling a revolver from his belt he popped the chamber and checked it was loaded.

“So, what’s the deal?” asked Carl.

“Travis reckons he’s been stealing dope and selling it on the side.”

“Shit, that’s low. Real low.” Carl took out his Glock pistol, cracked the slide and eyeballed the brass cartridge in the chamber. “He want him dead or fucked up?”

“Smith’s got kids. So, just a few broken bones to get the point across.”

Carl smirked, holstering his pistol as he pulled an extendable baton from the pocket of his combat pants. “Been waiting to try this sucker out.”

Hank frowned as he started the truck. “Where the hell did you get that?”

“I bought it online. Got me a sweet deal on a whole bunch of stuff.”

“More useless military junk.” He dropped the pickup into gear, turned on the headlights and planted his foot on the accelerator.

The truck bounced along the rutted track its lights illuminating thick woods on either side. After half a mile they passed a fence, turned right and stopped in front of a rundown farmhouse.

“I’ll handle this. You back me up,” said Hank as he killed the engine and donned a pair of thick leather gloves.

“Why am I always the backup?” whined Carl.

He turned with a frown. “Because you’re a goddamn fuck up.” Climbing from the truck he strode toward the house. As he approached the door opened and a figure clutching a shotgun appeared in the porch light, Andrew Smith.

“Who’s out there?”

“Hey, it’s Hank and Carl,” Hank said as he climbed the steps to the porch, fists clenched by his side.

Smith relaxed and lowered the shotgun. “Oh, hi guys. Thought you might be rustlers. Someone tried to steal some gear outta my barn the other night.”

Hank nodded. “Seems to be a lot of that going around.” He swung a savage right hook as he reached out and ripped the shotgun from Smith’s hands. His fist caught the man on the jaw and he went down like a sack of potatoes.

“Nice punch,” said Carl as he joined him.

“Help get him around behind the barn.” He lifted the unconscious man by one arm.

Carl took the other and they dragged him past the truck out of the light cast by the porch and behind a dilapidated barn.

They sat him against a wall and Hank slapped him. “Wake the fuck up.”

It took a moment for the man to come to. When he did, he tried to climb to his feet. Hank jammed the revolver under his chin. “Sit tight, boy.”

“What’s this all about?” the man stammered.

“Why don’t you tell me?”

Smith stared across at Carl with pleading eyes. “Look, I haven’t done anything wrong, I promise.”

“That’s not what Travis is saying.”

The fear dropped from his face, replaced with a look of contempt. “That fat fuck’s a liar. What the hell has he told you?”

“Said you’ve been stealing dope,” added Carl.

Hank turned and silenced his partner with a glare. Then he turned his attention back to Smith. “Leg or arm?”

“What?”

He clenched his jaw and hissed through his teeth. “Leg or fucking arm.”

Smith stared him in the eye. “You’d take Travis’s word over mine?”

“Carl, do both.” Hank stepped back, his pistol still aimed at Smith’s face.

“Really? You mean it?”

“Just do it.”

His partner flicked the extendable baton from his pocket and stepped in over the top of Smith.

“Carl, we’ve been friends for a long time–”

The sickening crack of his leg snapping cut him off. A blood-curdling scream filled the air as Carl lifted the baton and smashed it into his arm, crushing more bone.

Hank pushed his partner out of the way. “Shut the fuck up. Shut up or I’ll shoot you in the goddamn head.”

Smith managed to clench his jaw and stifle his cries.

“You see that, Hank? You see that? Barely had to swing the bastard. Did all the work for me.”

He turned to his partner. “Shut the hell up and get the truck.” Waiting till his partner disappeared he leaned in close. “You tell anyone who did this and you’re dead.”

The man nodded with his jaw clenched.

“Andy, where are you?” a female voice called from the farmhouse.

“You’ve paid for your transgression. Things are square. Don’t do anything you or your family is gonna regret.”

He shook his head. “It wasn’t me, Hank.”

Hank left him whimpering against the barn strode across to the truck and climbed inside.

“That was fun,” said Carl as they drove back down the track.

“You’re a sick fuck,” he murmured as he took a pinch of chewing tobacco from a tin and stuffed it into his lip.

“Goddamn thief deserved what he got.”

“So we’re told.”

Carl turned to him with a confused look on his face. “If he hasn’t been stealing the dope, who has?”

Hank spat into an empty coke bottle. “How the fuck would I know?”