Morgan's Hunter (13 page)

When she sat on the bed sick with horror and grief, he’d wanted to make everything better, to give her what comfort he could, but she hadn’t wanted him. The more she tried to push him away, the more he needed to be there for her.

While he held her close the night before, he realized the need to find out what happened to her team had less to do with the protocols of keeping her safe and everything to do with giving her peace.

In a week’s time, feelings he tried to avoid were coming to life—feelings he didn’t want. How the hell had that happened? Flutters of anxiety twisted his stomach. Feeling trapped, he gently lifted Morgan’s wrist, attempting to pull himself free of her. The movement woke her.

Half asleep, she stretched the arm out he still held, bringing herself closer. Her shirt continued climbing until her naked breast lay against his ribs and he bit back a groan. Need, bright and hot, burned in his belly, quickly replacing any traces of panic. He ground his teeth, fighting the urge to reverse their positions and take her.

Morgan opened her eyes, tilted her face up until she stared into his. Her full mouth creased in a slow smile before vanishing. She used the hand fisted over his heart to quickly boost herself up to sitting. As she pulled away, a flash of amazing breasts and toned stomach were visible before her tank top slid back in place.

She yanked the covers up to her neck, looking like a sleepy sex goddess with disheveled hair and flushed cheeks. “I, um, I didn’t mean to…lie all over you,” she finished lamely. The flush in her cheeks darkened as she glanced away.

“Don’t worry about it.” Desire roughened his voice. He wanted—no,
needed
—to put them back on an even keel. He sat up. “You look like you were able to get a little sleep.”

“I was. I didn’t have any more dreams. Thank you, for everything.”

“You’re welcome.” His triceps bunched as he propelled himself toward the front of the beds. He got up and rifled through his bag until he found a t-shirt to put on.

“Why did you have those pictures? Where did you get them?”

He turned, staring at her, blew out a breath. “I’m not going to tell you everything, but I will tell you I asked Ethan to have the situation with your friends looked into. I need to know what I’m dealing with to keep you safe.”

“The police told my father they’re pretty sure the team was killed by a poacher. They were in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Yeah, that’s the official line, but no matter how I spin it, it doesn’t fit. Something doesn’t feel right. Now that I’ve seen the pictures, I know it’s not.”

Morgan’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

His jaw tightened as she hastily crawled across the beds and stood in her hip-length tank top. Her pretty green panties rode high, showing off her shapely legs. “What are you saying? Do you think they were intentionally targeted?”

God, she was killing him. She needed to get dressed. He threw her the pair of jeans she wore the night before.

Her eyes widened when she glanced down quickly, as if she had forgotten how she was dressed, and tugged on the denim.

“I’m not saying anything at this point, but think about it. Everything’s off. It doesn’t make sense. Three people are taken out by one poacher. Three healthy, athletic adults under the age of thirty, shot without a struggle. You saw those pictures, saw the wounds. If they caught a poacher by surprise, they would’ve been shot at random, not execution style.”

“I never really thought it all through, but you’re right. Oh God.” Morgan sat back down. “What happened out there? What did they walk into? What do we do?”

“We don’t do anything; not yet.” Hunter crouched in front of her, stared into her eyes. “I never thought there was any real threat to you until I talked to my PI friend yesterday. Now, I’m not sure. You have to stay close, Morgan. I don’t know what the hell is going on around here, but you have to cooperate and stay close.”

She nodded. “I told you I would. I will.”

“Let’s get up and get on with the day. Don’t say a word about this to anyone. No one, not even your father.”

She frowned. “But—”

“No one, Morgan. Not yet.”

She nodded again. “Okay.”

They walked to the kitchen to find something to eat. Robert and Miles sat at the table with their breakfast. Robert read the paper with his coffee while Miles ate a bowl of cereal. Both men glanced over as Morgan and Hunter came in.

“You feeling better, Morgan?”

She smiled at Miles. “Yes, thank you. I must’ve been overtired.”

Robert set his paper down. “You’ve put in a lot of travel time the past couple days. It’s easy to get rundown. There’s plenty of food for the two of you. The Bureau sent money for provisions. Help yourselves to whatever you find.”

“That’s very kind.” Morgan opened the refrigerator, scanned the shelves, pulled out eggs, ham, and cheese. “Hunter, do you want an omelet?”

“I wouldn’t turn one down.” He poured a cup of coffee and joined Miles and Robert at the table. “I’ll take good food while I can, before we head out.”

Robert put his paper down again. “You going out into backcountry?”

“In a couple of days—I think. It really depends on when Morgan gets her paperwork finished.”

Robert sipped his coffee. “Where do you plan to go?”

“I’m not sure.” Hunter met Morgan’s gaze as she poured beaten eggs into a pan. “I’ll let the boss answer that question.”

Morgan chopped ham on a cutting board. “At this point, I’m essentially starting from scratch. My team didn’t get a chance to start their research. They never made it back to report their findings. I know they didn’t tag an animal because we never received a transmission signal. Shelly always kept a journal when we…” She broke off, looked up. Her eyes locked on Hunter’s as she continued with her heart stuttering in her chest.

“Shelly always kept a journal when we were on assignment. She kept a log of what we did professionally, but it was a personal diary. She would’ve recorded their itinerary. There might be a clue as to what happened to them. Did the police find it? I need to call my dad. Have him ask Shelly’s family. Why didn’t I think of this sooner?”

Morgan pulled the eggs off the burner. Omelets could wait. She ran to the bedroom and was back less than a minute later.

“My cell doesn’t work up here. I can’t get a signal. Do you mind if I use the office phone, Robert? I’ll reverse the charges.”

“No, go ahead. Miles and I should get to work. We’ll see you tonight.”

When Robert and Miles walked out the door a few minutes later, Morgan was telling Hunter the police hadn’t found Shelly’s journal.

Morgan and Hunter sat down to omelets and whole wheat toast as the pickup’s engine faded in the distance.

“Are you sure Shelly kept a journal with her?”

Morgan cut a piece of egg and looked at him. “Yes, I’m one hundred percent certain. She and I worked together for three years. She always brought her journal when we went on assignment. She would usually write at night after we settled in. She called it her ‘me time’.”

“She took one every single time you traveled?”

“Yes, Hunter, every single time. Why are you questioning me on this?”

“Just curious.” He shrugged, wanting to play things casual, but he had an idea of where the journal ended up. He sampled a bite of fluffy egg, melted cheese and thought he’d gone to heaven. “This is really good, Morgan.”

“Thanks. You think the person who killed them took it.”

He stopped chewing and met her steely stare. “It crossed my mind.”

“Why didn’t you just come out and say that? I’m pretty intelligent. I can connect the dots.” She stood. “If you expect me to cooperate with you, I expect you to do the same. They were my friends, Hunter.” She put her plate in the sink and walked off.

As she walked away, Hunter took his last bite. He wasn’t interested in cooperating; only in keeping her safe.

Hunter had watched his new roommates when Morgan remembered Shelly’s journal. Robert had been about to take a sip of coffee when he paused before setting his mug back down. Miles’s eyes had darted to Robert before he’d taken another bite of his cereal.

His stomach had pitched; his shoulder blades had itched the entire time. They were connected with her friends’ deaths; he just didn’t know how yet. He would keep that to himself for awhile.

Chapter 13

B
RIGHT AND EARLY FRIDAY MORNING, Hunter and Morgan stood at the kitchen table preparing for a day hike. Morgan placed first-aid supplies in her pack, followed by a blue insulated bag, crammed full with lunch. She picked up her list—again—to quadruple check she had everything.

Hunter ran his tongue over his teeth and rocked back on his heels, trying hard to be patient. When Morgan muttered to herself, glancing back and forth from her daypack to the paper she held, he rolled his eyes and let out an impatient breath. “Are you almost ready?”

“Yes, I just want to be sure I’m not leaving anything behind. I would hate to have to come back.”

He stared at the computer-generated list, the neat checks Morgan had placed in the boxes next to each item as she packed it. “I don’t think we have to worry.”

She frowned. “There’s nothing wrong with being prepared. In fact—”

“You’re right.” He didn’t want to fight with her. “Let’s go find that animal.”

“The lynx.”

“Right.” He glanced over his shoulder through the large picture window, more than ready to go. “So, what’s the plan?”

Morgan folded her list, placed the paper in her pack. “I’m not entirely sure, to be honest, but I’ll have a better idea after today. The last lynx tracks were measured and photographed north of here almost three months ago. Lynx are nocturnal unless food is scarce, so I don’t necessarily expect to see one, but I do want to go to the last documented area of activity. I think it’ll be best to start there since these animals are almost never seen.”

Hunter pulled a light gray hoodie over his head. “I’m just along for the hike. You do what you have to.”

“We’re looking at four miles one way. We’ll be gone for a good part of the day.”

“Let’s do it. I’m going stir crazy in this place.” Hunter spent the last two days stuck in the ranger’s station while Morgan completed her initial report for the Bureau. He’d checked in with Ethan several times, hoping for new information on her friends—there wasn’t any. He’d read a true crime novel from cover to cover and played all the solitaire, free cell and mahjong tiles he could stand.

He needed fresh air and physical activity, and was looking forward to watching Morgan in professional mode. The pictures he’d seen of her with her team—covered in grime, and wearing the red bandana in her hair—flashed through his mind. He wanted to see that side of her, the facet of her life that intrigued him and added substance to her privileged existence and stunning beauty. The confident, intelligent, career-focused woman Morgan appeared to be attracted the hell out of him.

She gave him a smile as she zipped her windbreaker and slipped the daypack on her back. “Let’s go then. I need to stop by the shed and grab my tracking equipment.”

They stepped from the cabin into the cool morning air as Hunter shouldered his own bag. He cinched the shoulder straps along the way. “Why don’t I carry your stuff?”

“No, I can handle it. I’m only bringing the absolute essentials today so my pack will be pretty light. I’ve packed the tranq-gun and collar with my supplies—just in case.”

Morgan unlocked the shed, grabbed the small nylon bag from inside the door.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to carry that?”

She shook her head. “No, really, I’m good.”

Hunter made a circling motion with his finger. “Turn around.”

When she did, he took the equipment bag, unzipped her daypack, placed it inside.

She turned, facing him, giving him a small smile. “Thanks.”

He smiled back, enjoying the tenuous peace they’d come to find over the past couple of days. They’d gone almost forty-eight hours without a single argument—a miracle in his estimation. “No problem.”

The steady twitter of birdsong played through the trees, growing louder as they moved closer to the trail leading north of the ranger’s station. Hunter took a deep breath, filling his lungs with crisp, clean air, appreciating the lack of smog that was a part of his everyday life in L.A.

The sun continued its rise over the majestic mountains, bathing snowcapped peaks in light, cloaking the valleys below in shadows, enhancing an already breathtaking view.

The first mile of the hike passed quickly with the steady pace they kept. Hunter’s muscles warmed and he was ready—eager—for a full day of exercise. His body, used to grueling workouts, craved to be taxed. Morgan led the way with him two steps behind. He was pleased her petite body could move.

Morgan pulled a small map from the side-pocket of her cargo pants, traced her finger along the blue line, announced they were at the halfway point. Hunter glanced at his watch; they were making excellent time.