Chapter 6 #3
He shook himself, and the snowflakes disappeared off his glossy black coat.
He trotted over to his food bowl as if kibble would magically appear, but he was doomed to disappointment.
To compensate for his empty belly, he took a long drink of water, which dripped all over the floor.
He moved back to his heated bed near the fireplace, where he curled up nice and snug.
Her stomach growled with hunger. Tea obviously wasn’t going to cut it. She needed food. She turned the burner on low under the stew she’d been too tired to eat earlier. She went back into the bedroom to check her phone messages.
Her boss, Supervisory Park Ranger Roland McGregor, had texted to tell her she was cleared to work this case full-time for now, and that Park Superintendent Graham Baum had assigned another two NPS Rangers to assist the FBI, which had officially taken the lead on this manhunt.
She got on well with McGregor, who was social and did his best to listen to his staff’s concerns, but as he was fond of pointing out, his resources were finite.
Baum was a cold fish. His bottom line was always the optics of the park and how to squeeze a few more dollars of funding out of the powers-that-be.
McGregor and Baum were the only people at Glacier who knew her full legal name and history. She’d made it clear it wasn’t something she wanted shared.
Nora thought about calling Max Pasdeckie, the SAR coordinator, for any updates, but she didn’t want him to misinterpret the lateness of the hour as an offer to come over.
They’d had sex a few months ago, and he’d made it clear he wanted more.
She did not.
Max was a good guy, and the sex had been okay, but she didn’t want to complicate what had been a great working relationship more than they already had. He was pushier than she’d anticipated, so now she kept her texts strictly professional and followed protocol.
She should have gotten Sebastian Black’s number to ask him for updates, but…that would have been weird, and she wasn’t sure she’d have called him anyway. He’d annoyed her, then he’d surprised her with his care and attention.
She shook it off. He’d probably been making sure Eastman wasn’t holed up inside her cabin.
She could call around and ask for the Incident Commander’s number, but that screamed of desperation rather than professionalism. No one was going anywhere until this snow stopped. She may as well make the most of the time off and wait for an official update.
She stripped off her sweaty pjs and headed to the shower, determined to wash away the last remnants of the nightmare. She shampooed her hair and conditioned it, then rinsed off, climbed out, pulled on a robe, and wrapped a towel around her head.
She checked the stew, which had begun to bubble. Sliced and buttered two pieces of sourdough bread. She served herself and sat at her table with her supper. Chance’s one eye followed every spoonful on its journey from bowl to mouth even though she’d never fed him human food.
Black Labs were notoriously food oriented, and Chance had a high metabolism so, unlike many of his breed, lost weight easily.
Guilt moved through her at all the work he’d put in over the past twenty-four hours and all that might still be to come.
She stood abruptly and put some extra kibble into his maze bowl.
He leapt out of his bed and sat, wagging his butt over her hardwood floor at this unexpected bonus, until she gave him permission to eat.
She sat back down to her own late-night meal. The wind rattled the glass in the kitchen window and howled eerily as it rushed between buildings.
It was bad out there. Life threateningly bad.
A lump formed at the back of her throat, but she swallowed it down. She refused to think about Summer or the case. If she did, she wouldn’t be able to eat another bite, and she needed sustenance if she hoped to help.
Think about something else.
Her family—hell, no.
Her brain flashed instead back to Sebastian Black.
Attractive. Sure. That forceful personality presumably paired with the skills to back it up.
The dark eyes, jet-black hair, chiseled jawline, symmetrical features that enhanced everything else.
He had that swimmer’s physique with the long legs, broad shoulders and lean waist.
Definitely physically attractive.
Pity she didn’t trust him.
She’d always had a love-hate relationship with law enforcement officers, despite the fact she was one, and never got personally involved with anyone on the job.
Even sleeping with another SAR volunteer had proven more complicated than she’d anticipated.
She liked the majority of her colleagues at Glacier with a couple of good ol’ boy exceptions but purposely wasn’t close to anyone.
She had an inherent distrust of authority, which was probably why she’d been drawn to the profession—that and the fact it had been a National Park Service law enforcement officer and an enthusiastic search dog who’d found her naked and hypothermic on that Vermont mountain all those years ago.
The remnants of the dream fluttered around her mind like a shroud and made her shiver.
She forced the memories away and thought about the FBI HRT agents she’d met today. They were supposed to be the best of the best. Would they be good enough to find Summer in time?
Maybe.
The leader appeared competent.
Cas Demarco had an aura that seemed warm and friendly, but also intelligent. Kind but smart. Sebastian Black had oozed by-the-book energy, but he’d grown on her throughout the day. Bottom line, she could work with him if she had to.
They’d made a good team today. She could admit that to herself. He’d let her take the lead on the search—albeit reluctantly at first—listened to her ideas, had been the voice of reason to end it when they had.
Guilt resurfaced as Chance finished his bonus meal and settled himself back into his bed, one eye still on her dinner.
She finished the last spoonful of her stew and put her dish in the dishwasher. Then she removed the towel from her head and ran her fingers through her damp hair. She should dry it in case they received a call, but no one was going anywhere in this weather.
Instead, she went over to repack her SAR gear.
She restocked it and put together a separate backpack with enough supplies to last for a few days in the wilderness, which included food and supplies for Chance. The FBI might decide against it, but in her opinion, the only way to rescue Summer was to follow her into the mountains.
Waiting out Eastman might lead to them pulling the girl’s dead body from a snowbank in spring. That thought made Nora want to retch. No, they needed to go after the bastard. Find Summer. Remove her from her violent father and bring her back to safety.
Finished, Nora lay on the couch and patted the cushion in front of her. Chance jumped up and laid his head on her chest. She cuddled him, watching the flames in the wood stove.
Nora desperately wanted to be part of this search.
She owed it to the little girl. She owed it to everyone who had lost hope that anyone was coming to save them.
And maybe she owed it to herself, as a law enforcement officer, as a SAR volunteer, as a woman who wanted to help others like her.
To prove she wasn’t the one who needed saving any more.
To prove John Kingston hadn’t destroyed her when he’d taken her and treated her like an animal.
That bastard had thrust her into the fire, but she’d forged herself into a survivor, while he’d died, pathetic and broken, on that rainy Vermont mountain all those years ago.
Exactly the way he’d deserved.