CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Cole sat at a picnic table in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by a town full of local yokels, gobbling up the best homemade chocolate chip cookie he’d ever had.
Holly had taken off with her friends to buy an apple pie—said it wouldn’t be the Fourth without it. He used the break to get his priorities in check.
He’d kissed Holly. Why had he kissed Holly? And in front of the whole town. Clearly, this place was making him crazy. There were too many trees and too much fresh air to think straight. Sure, it was his job to protect her, but it was starting to feel like something more. Something he hadn’t felt in a really long time—if ever.
Over the last week, she’d gone from an annoying, clumsy out-of-towner to a confident, sexy equal. She handled wild bears and douche-y ex- fiancés just as easily as she coped with being stalked by a murderer. She was brave in the face of danger and so no-nonsense.
And don’t get him started on that long, lean body. When she’d stripped down to her bikini at the lake, he had to look away so she wouldn’t see him blush. That’s what was hiding under that ugly park ranger uniform?
No more, he told himself. No dancing, no kissing, no ogling. It was complicating things that were already complicated. Plus, it was unfair of him. After he went home, she would be the one who had to reap the consequences of his meddling.
Holly and her besties returned with a huge apple pie, paper plates, and forks.
“You didn’t get enough cookies?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Shut up,” she said, handing him a plate. “You’ll understand once you get a taste.”
They dished up, and at Holly’s first bite, a glob of gooey filling fell onto her shirt.
“Damn it. I was doing so well.”
“Too bad,” Tess said. “Gotta put the days-without-a-spill scoreboard back to zero.”
Holly picked up a napkin, poured water onto it, and dabbed at the mess. After two seconds of trying and giving up, she went back to the pie. Her tongue flicked out to lick a crumb from her lips, and Cole looked away. Watching her eat was detrimental to his newfound resolve.
The six of them finished off the pie in no time. “You were right,” he admitted. “That was delicious.”
An explosion made him jump and quickly check their surroundings.
“Just fireworks,” Holly said. “No one’s shootin’ anyone.”
“For now.” Cole sighed.
“Cruz is in New York. He can’t hurt me today. Relax.”
“I’m trying. It’s harder than it sounds.”
Cruz had evaded conviction for a very long time. The police would arrest him, the DA would prosecute, but something would always happen that enabled him to get off scot-free. Holly was the glue that would make this case stick. Which meant Cruz wasn’t going to let this go. She had a point though. The detectives were monitoring flights and would advise him if Cruz headed their way. And unless he turned right around at JFK and flew back here, Cole had a few hours at least to relax.
Holly and her friends started packing up. “Now what?” he asked.
“You’ll see,” she said. “Show will start soon. And the best place to watch fireworks is out of town. Where it’s dark.”
They had the timing of everything down to the minute, as if they’d done this same routine for years, perfecting it over time. They drove out to an old wooden barn, her friends parking behind them.
“Tell me we’re not going in there,” Cole said when they parked. “It looks like it’s about to collapse any minute.”
“How would we watch the fireworks from inside ?” she asked.
He ignored the obviously rhetorical question. Once all the headlights were off, it was eerily dark with only a half-moon and the stars to see by. The only noise was a loud duet of crickets and frogs. Something wet and cold touched his leg, and he jumped, doing a little dance step to escape it.
“Lady,” Holly said. “Leave poor Cole alone.”
Just the dog. Calm down, Robinson . “This reminds me of a horror movie. Right before a killer pops out of the woods and slashes everyone to death with an ax.”
“You’re a barrel of fun,” Holly said. “It’s nature. It’s soothing. Just be quiet, and soak it up.”
He tried. Closing his eyes, he pushed out the ax murderer visions and focused on the silence, the peacefulness. After a few breaths, his shoulders fell a half an inch, and the tension ebbed away. It was oddly comforting.
“Hey,” Cole said. “Stars.” His eyes had adjusted, and he stared up at the darkest sky he’d ever seen. “Look at that big, bright one.”
“You mean the North Star?” Holly asked. “Can you see the Big Dipper? It’s part of the Big Bear.”
“Um.” He knew next to nothing about astrology. “I’ve heard of the Big Dipper.”
She pointed to the sky and showed him how to use the North Star to find constellations.
“I can’t imagine living in a place where you could never get away from the lights.”
“You get used to it,” Cole said. “And I’m not gonna lie. This absolute darkness is creepy.”
“Scared?” Holly teased.
“No,” he said defensively. “But, um, just curious, what is the wild animal sitch out here? Fending off a bear in broad daylight is one thing. Doing it at night? Uh, no thanks.”
Holly laughed but noticeably did not answer his question. A wolf howled in the distance, and all the relaxing came undone in a second.
Every few minutes, random fireworks exploded, brightening the sky. They laid out blankets in the grass behind the barn. They had just gotten settled when the show in town started. Tess hit play on a Bluetooth speaker to start a patriotic playlist, and they all stretched out to watch. Cole followed suit and lay next to Holly. Against the black sky, huge bursts of color lit up the night before turning to raindrops of sparks that disappeared into the darkness.
It was romantic. No doubt about that. And he was very conscious of the warm body beside him. But he’d already fought and won this argument with himself. No more hanky-panky on the job.
After the fireworks, they packed up and returned to Jen’s. Holly’s house was safe for now, but it was still a wreck. Cole had to admit that, except for losing Cruz that morning, the day had been pretty perfect. Today would go down as one of his most memorable Fourth of Julys.
The next day, they stopped for coffee and donuts on their way to work. Holly was extra careful to avoid a run-in with Rick, which made Cole feel guilty all over again. Kissing her had been a spur-of-the-moment decision. And while it seemed like a good idea at the time, it would have lasting repercussions for Holly.
The park was pretty dead, and they spent the majority of the morning driving around looking for maintenance issues. At lunchtime, they ran out to get tacos from a food truck near the park’s entrance. Holly immediately dribbled salsa on her shirt.
“Don’t worry,” Cole said. “It blends in with the jelly donut you spilled this morning. Just looks like one big stain instead of two.”
She smacked him. “Don’t tell my friends.”
Midway through the meal, Cole’s phone rang. “Robinson.”
“Hey,” Detective Flanigan greeted. “Good news. One of our CIs gave up Cruz’s location, and we picked him up this morning. DA wants to know when they can talk to Holly.”
“That’s amazing.” He turned to Holly. “They got him.”
“Awesome.”
“DA’s asking when you’d be available for a deposition and to pick him out of a lineup.”
“Do I have to go back to New York?”
“Maybe not for the deposition, but eventually, yeah.” He knew it wasn’t a question she could answer right away, so he didn’t press. “Thanks, Flanigan. We’ll figure it out and be in touch.”
He hung up and smiled. This was the best news he’d had all week. “I’m gonna make arrangements to fly out.”
Holly’s face was unreadable, but she nodded. “I can take you to the airport tonight, but not until my shift’s over. Will that work?”
“It’ll have to.” He booked a flight for midnight. That would give them plenty of time to finish the shift, stop by Jen’s for his stuff, and get to Portsmouth.
Thirty minutes later, a call came over the radio announcing a lost child. As he suspected, there were strict protocols for handling such an incident, and Holly switched into professional mode. All the rangers met in the parking lot of the trailhead where the boy and his family had started a hike. Apparently, the kid had run ahead of the parents and hadn’t been seen since. That had been two hours ago.
“Parents searched until they got lost,” Holly said, returning to the car after an all-staff briefing. “They finally made it back, but still no sign of the kid. Ten-year-old boy, last seen wearing a red shirt and blue shorts. Name’s Caleb. We’re assigned to a backwoods trail that abuts this one about a mile up.”
Cole put on his seatbelt, ready to go and do whatever was needed. They drove to another trailhead and parked. Holly popped the trunk and started shoving supplies into a backpack.
“This trail’s pretty rough,” she said. “Now that I’m not in danger, you don’t have to come. I can get someone to take you back to town.”
He ignored the offer. “I’m going with you. Do you have a second pack?”
“A smaller one.” It was prepacked, and she handed it to him. “You sure your boots are ready for this?”
“Ready or not,” he said. “Let’s go.”
Her radio cackled every so often, with everyone calling in their status. So far, nothing. They hiked, stopping occasionally to yell the boy’s name and wait for any response. Apprehension rolled off Holly, and Cole knew what she was thinking. It was just like missing kids in the city—the longer they were lost, the worse the odds of finding them alive and okay. In the city, they worried about kidnappings and traffic accidents. Out here, it was wild animals and the elements.
Dinner was a couple of granola bars and an energy drink, which they ate on the move. The only stop they made was for Cole to cancel his flight. While he did that, Holly arranged for Juliet to pick up Lady and take care of her for the night.
As dusk approached, they picked up the pace and yelled more frequently. He felt like they’d climbed the same mountain several times, up and down, back and forth for hours.
He suddenly remembered how she’d gotten lost in Central Park and began to wonder if they might need a rescue soon. “You know where we are, right?”
She huffed out a laugh. “I was just thinking about Central Park too. Don’t worry. I know these woods like the back of my hand.”
“Good, because I would have no idea how to get back from here.”
Holly’s radio came to life. “We found him y’all. Search is over.”
“Thank goodness.” Holly breathed a sigh of relief. “With rain in the forecast and how cold it gets up here at night, this could’ve ended badly.”
Cole looked around. It was only six o’clock and should have been light for at least another two hours, but tall trees and ominous clouds made it seem like night had already fallen. “We gonna make it out of here before dark?”
“No,” she said bluntly. “We’re a few hours from the trailhead. And that’s a daytime hike. In the dark, it will take us longer. And if it starts to rain…”
“Do we have any other options?”
She dug into her pack and pulled out a map and a flashlight. “Maybe I can find a shortcut.”
As much as he wanted out of these woods, he harbored reservations about leaving the beaten path.
“Hm.”
“What?”
“Well, I don’t see a shortcut, but there is an old ranger cabin not too far from here. We could go there, hunker down for the night, and hike out at first light.”
Something rustled in the bushes, and a drop of rain hit his cheek. “Sold,” Cole said, throwing on his pack. “Lead the way.”
“Maybe we’ll see some snipes.” She grinned.
“Huh?”
“Never mind. Follow me.”
Ten minutes later, the skies opened. The thin rain ponchos from their packs were as useful as a teapot made of butter. Just when he’d given up hope and resigned himself to an above-ground drowning, they burst through the trees into a small clearing that surrounded an old dilapidated cabin. The front steps sagged, and the roof seemed more concave than it should be. It was as if the whole structure was turning in on itself. But it was shelter, and they hurried inside.
Cole swung his flashlight around in search of a light switch.
“No electricity,” Holly said. “Should be a lantern somewhere.”
They found two and fired one up, keeping the other as a reserve. Cole removed his poncho, coat, and flannel and hung them on pegs by the door. Immediately, a puddle formed under them.
“Good thing we had raincoats,” he muttered.
“Bennett to base,” Holly said into the radio.
“Bennett,” a female voice replied. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Got stuck up on Windy Ridge. I’m holed up in the old park cabin and will hike out in the morning. No cell coverage, and I don’t have much battery left on the radio, so I’m turning it off.”
“Ten-four. Thanks for the update. Stay dry.”
She turned to Cole. “Since there’s no signal, we should turn off our phones to save power for tomorrow.”
“Good thinking,” he said, digging out his phone and hitting the off button.
“I’m gonna test out the restroom,” she said. “You know how to start a fire?”
“Oh,” he said. “I was a Boy Scout for about two minutes. Let’s see what I remember.”
He carried the lantern to the fireplace and surveyed what materials he had to work with. Luckily, everything he needed was stacked neatly next to the hearth. He wadded up some newspaper, made a teepee out of kindling, and struck a match. Before lighting the paper, he had a brief recollection of a movie he’d seen where someone forgot to open the flue. He blew out the match and pointed his flashlight up the chimney. Hah. The contraption was closed. Thinking he was so clever, he reached for the handle to open it, but screamed and recoiled when several spiders attacked in defense of their perch.
Holly came out of the bathroom just as he lost his balance and fell back on his butt. She took in the scene. “Ya good?”
“Yes,” he grumbled, righting himself. He tried the flue again, this time using a piece of wood, and once he was sure it was open, lit the newspaper. He watched for a minute to ensure the kindling started, then laid a larger log on sideways.
Holly had moved to stand behind him. “Good job, Kit Carson.”
“Who’s…Never mind.” Cole dusted his hands on his pants and stood. “I still got it,” he said triumphantly. “Feel that heat?”
“Yes. I’m very impressed. You got skills, Robinson.”
They kicked off their shoes, propped them up by the fire to dry, then dug into their packs to take stock. Between the two of them, they had six protein bars, three sleeves of trail mix, and four water bottles.
“Can you survive on a protein bar and a bag of nuts and raisins?” he asked. The way she packed away food, he had his doubts.
“I’ll have to,” she said, digging into the bar. “That’ll leave us each one more for breakfast and two for an emergency. We can split the last trail mix for a snack later.”
“So, what are the accommodations like?”
“Good news is the toilet flushes, so the well’s hooked up. I wouldn’t drink the water though.”
“Noted.” He got up to look around. “Kitchen. Check,” he said, opening a cupboard. “Any chance there’s food here?”
“Maybe cans but nothing to attract animals.” She came over to help him look through the cupboards. “Pull out any pots and pans you find.”
“What? Why?”
She placed a pot on the floor a few feet away, and he heard the tinny splat , splat , splat of raindrops hitting the steel bottom. “I have a feeling there will be more.”
“The roof’s leaking?” She shrugged in response. “Great. We’ll be lucky if this place doesn’t fall down around us during the night.”
“It’s a distinct possibility,” she said, putting a second pan under another leak. “Hey, hey. Jackpot!”
He turned to see her holding a bottle of wine. “Think that’s okay to drink?”
“Only one way to find out.” She whipped out a pocketknife. The kind that had a million other tools on it, including a corkscrew. Within seconds, the bottle was open, and two dingy glasses poured.
“To the kid being found safe,” she said.
“To us not having to hike off this mountain in the rain,” he said.
They clinked and sipped. It was fresh and fruity. Not really his thing, but it would do in a pinch. He took the glass, walked to the door next to the bathroom, and pushed it open. Something lay on the bed. Something that moved when he shone his flashlight on it. “Hol-ly?”
“What is it?” She inched in front of him.
“Please tell me that’s not a snake.” Cole looked over her shoulder as the thing lifted its head and glared in irritation. It was huge. And gross.
“His room now,” Holly said, backing out, shutting the door, and walking away. “Guess we’re sharin’ the couch.”