Evidence of Trust (20 page)

He shrugged, even though at the time he’d wanted to slam his fist into a tree. Still did whenever he thought of the dead animals.

He’d rather look at her. When he cast another glance toward Brittany, he noticed her assessing gaze take a slow slide south. It bounced back up a moment later as she straightened.

“You know, maybe you could put some pants on so we can talk?”

Considering his body was starting to respond to her perusal, that was probably a good idea. But he had a better one—a safer one. He jammed the empty pot back into place in the coffee maker and headed toward the living room. “I’m going back to bed.”

“Wait…don’t you even want to know what I found?”

He swung around with exasperation to find her right behind him. He fought the rest of the sleep cobwebs clinging to the edges of his mind. The ones tempting him to reach out and pull her against him and kiss her until she begged him to take her back to bed with him.

“I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about, Brittany. What did you find? Where?”

She dug in the pocket of her jean shorts and then stretched her arm toward him to offer a crumpled granola bar wrapper.

He narrowed his eyes. “You woke me up to give me garbage?”

She rolled her eyes. “Look what’s
inside
.” Taking hold of his hand, she placed the wrapper in his palm. Her soft, warm skin distracted him, until he saw the .22 caliber bullet nestled in the wrinkled cellophane and brought his other hand up to part the folds for a better look.

“Don’t touch it! Well, I already did, but—”

He flicked his gaze to hers without lifting his head.

“I’m sorry,” she continued. “I wasn’t thinking. It was only after I’d picked it up and noticed footprints that I thought about fingerprints.”

He set the wrapper on the dining room table, then went back into the kitchen. “Where’d you find that?” he asked while he started refilling the coffee pot.

“I thought you had enough coffee?” she asked from the doorway, a smug little smile on her face. When he threw her a dark look, the smile disappeared. She moved into the kitchen to lean back against the counter. “I found it on the Lawn Lake Trail. I was on my way to Crystal Lake, but when I saw the bullet, I figured you’d be able to check if it was a ranger or not.”

The park’s armed enforcement rangers carried 9mms, not .22s.
That
was the caliber favored by the poacher. Unlike a more high-powered rifle, the report of a .22 didn’t travel as far, yet if the shooter was a good marksman, he could still make a kill shot from as far away as three hundred yards.

On the flip side, the bullet could just as easily have been dropped by a visitor who’d been carrying their firearm in the park legally, but at this point, every lead was worth checking out.

Joel leaned his hip against the counter and crossed his feet at the ankles as the coffee began to drip. “You said there were footprints?”

“They looked identical to the ones up at the overnight camp.”

“Some of the most popular hiking boots sold across this country have similar treads. Without comparing the prints, there’s no way to be sure.”

“I took pictures.”

“Good thinking. Let me get dressed and we’ll take a look on my computer. I’ll be right back.”

In his room, he resisted the lure of his pillow, and pulled on a pair of black cotton shorts and a white T-shirt. His computer was on the dining room table, so he returned to the kitchen to pour a cup of coffee. “Can I get you anything?”

She held up the glass of water she’d helped herself to, so he took a seat at the table as she pulled her SD card from her pocket. When she sat in the chair next to him, their bare knees brushed. He was immediately reminded of her blatant appraisal in the kitchen and covered his shift away from the flare of heat by reaching for his coffee cup.

“I also noticed animal tracks near the footprints,” she told him as the computer booted up. “In fact, once I realized it looked more like something had crossed the hiking trail instead of veered off it, I figured it was probably just an animal trail. When I looked closer, that’s when I saw the footprints and found the bullet.”

Joel slid the media card into its slot and uploaded the photos she’d taken. One glance was all it took to recognize the tread on the print matched those of other prints he’d documented at previous crime scenes.

“Do they help?” she asked after a few minutes.

“Possibly.”

She leaned close to point to a spot on the computer screen. “Can you tell what kind of animal tracks those are?”

“Looks like elk, but I can’t be sure.” The faint smell of apples mixed with mountain freshness was beginning to go to his head. Probably time to wrap this up.

“Maybe we’ll find a better print when we get up there tomorrow.”

He cast her a sideways glance. “We?”

“Well, yeah. I’ll need to show you where I found everything.”

“You can show me on a map.”

She shook her head as he shut his laptop. “I’m going with you.” When he started to protest, she cut him off. “I don’t remember how far along I was between the two lakes, and too much of the trail looks alike. I couldn’t even tell you a landmark to look for.”

Exhaustion accelerated his growing frustration over her stubbornness, and something else suddenly occurred to him. “You keep saying
I.
Were you up there hiking by yourself?”

The abrupt change of subject caught her off guard. He read a flicker of guilt in her eyes before she averted her gaze to reach for her water.

“You went alone.”

“Lawn Lake Trail is still open to the public, and besides, there were other hikers—”

He banged his coffee mug down onto the table with barely controlled force. “Who could’ve been poachers for all you knew. God, don’t you understand? I don’t have any solid suspects yet, no clue who the hell this is. Hell, for all
I
know, it could be
you
.”

Her gaze met his and a small smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “If it were me, would I have brought you my own bullet?”

“It could just be that you’re good at covering your tracks.” He knew it wasn’t her, but was trying to make a point.

“Or, maybe I am who I appear to be. Someone who cares and wants to help.”

“Appearances can be deceiving. One of life’s lessons I’ve learned the hard way.”

Joel shoved to his feet and strode down the hall to the bedroom. She was right about her having to show him the site tomorrow, but he needed to get away from her—away from the overwhelming fear and anger that ambushed him when he realized the danger she’d put herself in yet again by going alone.

Why couldn’t the bull-headed woman just frickin’ listen to him? It was for her own damn good.

He braced his hands against the dresser and hung his head. The thought of her getting hurt tied his stomach up in knots and had him taking out his frustration on her. With her, he could go from zero to pissed in one point two seconds, leaving little chance for his rational mind to catch up with his emotions.

On top of that, even with the caffeine from a few minutes ago, fatigue weighed him down. More than anything, he needed to get some sleep. Then he’d be better equipped to deal with her in the morning. Resignation sent him to the closet.

“A little appreciation would be nice.”

The irritated statement made him lean back beyond the barrier of the door. Brittany stood in the bedroom doorway, hands braced on her hips.

“You know, like
thank you?
”

He reached inside the closet, then closed the door and advanced on her with a set of sheets and a blanket. “Thank you.”

She hadn’t expected that. He read the surprise in her eyes before she nodded and shifted her gaze away from his. Must’ve landed on the bed because when she jerked her attention back to him, her face had turned a light shade of pink. Yet there was a heat in her eyes that told him she’d thought about the two of them on a bed at some point.

Damn, she was making this hard.

He shoved the bed linens into her arms and stepped back. She grappled to keep them from falling to the ground. “What is this for?”

“The couch. Get some sleep,” he ordered. “We’re leaving early.”

“I’m not staying here.” She tried to give them back.

“If you insist on coming along, the only place you’re going now is the couch, ’cause I ain’t waitin’ for you in the morning.” Because he knew it would make her run, he cocked an eyebrow and gave her a smile. “Unless you want to share the bed?”

The color in her face deepened, but she stood her ground. “Gina’s apartment is just on the other side of Estes on Devil’s Gulch Road. Tell me what time you want to leave and I’ll be here.”

He got rid of the smile and jabbed a finger toward the living room. “Couch. Now.”

She looked like she was going to argue more, but then huffed out a breath. “Fine. Can I have a pillow?”

He stepped back to swipe one from the bed, then tossed it to her.

“Is this one yours, or—”

“They’re both mine. Just take the damn thing and go,” he growled.

She backed out the door. “It’s not my fault you’re tired. You don’t have to act like such a jerk.”

“You’ve got about three seconds.”

“Or what?” she challenged.

“Or I’m going to kiss you, and we both know neither one of us is going to want to stop there.”

Chapter 24

Britt woke up to the smell of coffee and the clatter of dishes. She grimaced when one peek confirmed it was still dark outside. Sleep had been a long time coming with her head resting on a pillow that smelled like Joel fresh out of the shower and his words echoing in her head.

She’d been so hot and bothered, the temptation to share the bed in the other room had been nearly impossible to resist.

“Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty.”

She propped herself up on one elbow to see him smiling from where he stood by the table.

“Breakfast is ready. You’ve got ten minutes, so move your butt.”

She flopped back onto the pillow with a groan. For a man who’d gotten maybe six hours of sleep after being awake for forty-eight, he was way too chipper. And bossy. She flipped aside the blanket and headed over to the table while trying to finger-comb knots out of her ratted ponytail.

Joel was already eating his breakfast of scrambled eggs with ham, and two slices of whole wheat toast. Her plate was identical, but instead of coffee, he’d poured her a glass of orange juice. Her stomach growled, reminding her she’d skipped dinner last night. She tossed her hair back over her shoulder to deal with later and sat down to eat.

“You up for a second day of hiking?” he asked after a minute.

“Don’t really have much of a choice, do I?”

He rested his fork at the edge of his plate and leaned back in his chair to study her. She squirmed at the thought of what she must look like and took another bite.

“That’s the thing I don’t get. You do have a choice. I didn’t make you stay here last night. Not really.”

She kept her eyes on her plate and chewed a mouthful of eggs.

“Why didn’t you leave?”

The eggs stuck in her throat, making her take a swig of orange juice. “What this guy does makes me sick to my stomach. Hunting for meat to feed a family is one thing, but killing like he does is wrong. If I stumbled across something up there, I want to help you find it sooner rather than later so you can stop him from killing any more animals.”

“I do appreciate that.” He stood to carry his dish into the kitchen, then returned to lean a shoulder against the doorjamb between the two rooms. “Investigations like this one are my least favorite.”

“Have you had many of them?”

“This is the seventh one I’ve worked, but even one is too many.”

She agreed, and liked the fact he wasn’t too macho to admit it. She, on the other hand, was too far out of her comfort zone to admit the second reason she’d stayed.

One more bite and she finished off her breakfast with the last swallow of OJ. Joel came forward to take her plate as she pushed her chair back to stand. “I’ll pack us a lunch if you want to use the bathroom. I left a toothbrush and wash cloth for you on the counter.”

“Thanks.”

She figured she had about three minutes left of the ten he’d allotted her, but took fifteen to brush her teeth, wash up, and wrestle her hair into submission with a comb of his from the drawer. Once the tangles were out, she pulled the curls over one shoulder and twisted them into a simple braid. A fresh change of clothes would be nice, but she didn’t want to risk his amicable mood disappearing if she requested to head the opposite direction of the park to stop at Gina’s apartment.

When she returned to the living room, Joel straightened from where he leaned against the wall by the door, and slung a full backpack over one shoulder. “Ready to go?”

He’d cleaned up the bedding on the couch, so there was nothing for her to do but nod and precede him out the door. She returned his smile on her way by and almost turned back to ask the question she’d been wondering about since she laid on the couch the night before.