Devil's Gold (23 page)

Popeye?
She was apiece of work. “Truce. I can't answer your question, but I promise to quit badgering.” At least for a day.

She stared through slightly glazed eyes. He refrained from snapping his fingers in front of her face.

“Maybe Sharpe's right,” she said. Maybe I am done.” Anger replaced her grief as quickly as the sun dropped behind the steep mountain peaks. “Why would he say those things to me yesterday?” Twilight descended in a gray blanket of fuzzy darkness.

Holding tightly to her hand, Jake stopped Cassidy from rising. “You're not done, and he was out of line.”

Her lips twisted into a tight smile. “Sharpe is never out of line. He's like a father to me.”

Why didn't that sit well with him? To combat the awkward twist to his gut, Jake jumped to his feet. “Show me what to do,” he said and pulled her to her feet.

She stumbled and fell against his chest. He steadied her, inhaling the light honey scent that clung to her hair. She gazed into his face, her eyes wide and emotions vulnerable. “Come on,” he said softly, releasing her. “Let's get to work, shall we?” She gaped at him in surprise, causing him to laugh out loud. “You do know how to work, don't you?”

“Yes.” Her face flushed bright red. “Let's get our gear topside and settle in for the night.”

“You're the boss.”

She smiled and moved past him. He watched her put up her gear and scramble lithely up the wooden ladder. The spark of longing in her eyes unhinged him and he frowned, kicking the toe of his boot into the dirt. Damn if she wasn't becoming something he needed.

He quickly gathered his backpack and climbed after her.

They worked in silence. The platform was small at seven-by-seven, forcing them to brush and bump against one another as they organized the site. Scent-free tarps were laid out across the plywood with a second layer prepared to cover their prone bodies. Notepads, camera, infrared binoculars, all lined up at attention. Testing the air, Cassidy appeared satisfied that they were apparently upwind from the trail she'd picked up behind the lookout post.

“With any luck,” she said softly, “the pack'll walk right beneath us … just like Post 29.” Handing him a large plastic container, she grinned up at his puzzled expression. “Need to pee?”

Jake closed his eyes at his stupidity. “I'd forgotten,” he admitted reluctantly, “about that part of the job.”

“Wouldn't want you scaring away our subjects, would we?” He could hear her giggle as she turned her back. Swearing softly, he grabbed the bottle.

“What about you?” he called when he'd finished.

“I took care of that earlier away from this spot. Based on the markings, if they hit my scent, it'll push them in this direction.”

“You could've told me.”

“What? Miss the fun of watching the great Dr. Jake Anderson blush? Not on your life.”

He glared at her smug expression, securing the offensive container in its designated position. “I'm only blushing because I feel foolish about forgetting this aspect of observation duty. If you hadn't distracted me, I'd probably have remembered.”

“Excuses, excuses,” Cassidy taunted. “Don't use me as the scapegoat. Do your job, Eeyore, and forget about me.” He watched her gracefully stretch out on her stomach and pull the scent-free tarp over her shoulders. Her hair spilled from its imprisoning clip, flowing freely over her shoulders. Intent on positioning herself correctly, Cassidy allowed it to remain unbound.

She was having fun playing the name game. He wondered what she'd say if he explained the reason he never used her name.

Fear.

Jake was afraid of the intimacy, the longing that her name would arouse. His gaze drifted from the top of her head, down her spine, to the very tips of her shoes.

A stab of desire slammed into his gut. That he could handle. It was the skip in his heart that worried him.

Lying next to her would be too much of a distraction. He settled himself at the back of the platform, leaning against the support post and extending his long legs toward Cassidy. Drawn by the rustling of his scent-free tarp, she glanced over her shoulder. Even in the gray of twilight, her emerald eyes burned brightly.

“Why aren't you in position?”

Jake rolled his eyes. “I am in position.”

“You can't see the wolves from there.”

“This is where I'm comfortable.” He watched her settle back and regretted speaking harshly. It wasn't her fault he couldn't control his libido.

As crimson sky washed out into muted tones of the gloaming, Jake listened to the creatures of the night awaken. Bats flickered against the fading light, swooping and gobbling millions of bugs. The shrill call of a screech owl wove through the trees and echoed back.

Sudden silence woke Jake from his quiet meditation.

A loud gunshot followed by a yelp shattered the tranquil evening.

Jake was on his feet, down the ladder, and racing in the direction of the noise before Cassidy struggled from beneath the tangled tarp that was frustratingly wrapped around her legs. He could hear her exasperated curses followed by the soft pounding of her boots attempting to catch up with him. His mind was focused on the chase.

He slowed around a particularly dangerous bend and listened intently to his surroundings. Evening crickets hadn't yet returned to their melodious chirps, which signaled a continuing disturbance in the area. Dusk quickly disappeared beneath the blackness of night. A rustle of underbrush and a snapping branch drew his attention to the left. Un-holstering his gun and flashlight, he pointed the beam of light and muzzle at the commotion. Nothing.

Cassidy slid to a halt behind him. She peered over his shoulder into the lighted area. “What is it?”

“I don't know,” he said beneath his breath. “Just listen.” They stood absolutely still, straining to hear any kind of noise that would direct them to the hunter. Cassidy was pressed tightly against his back; light breaths tickled his neck enticingly, causing Jake's concentration to waiver.

Another shot pierced the air. Jake moved with agility honed by years of covert operations. He pulled Cassidy to his front, pushing her to the ground. A branch above their heads snapped and broke, shattered by the path of the bullet. The moon speared the black forest with soft beams of light. Her body radiated heat beneath him, and he could feel her struggle against his weight. He bent forward so their faces were a nose length apart. Jake held his right forefinger to his lips to silence her protests.

She frowned and nodded, and they lay prone against the base of a tree. Jake shifted from Cassidy in an attempt to ease the pain she must be feeling from the sharp rocks and protruding roots. The sound of muffled footsteps reached his ears. He motioned for Cassidy to remain where she was and slid away from the tree.

The movement below guided him through a thick grove of pines. He used them for cover, sliding his fingers across their rough bark to steady himself over the steep rocks. An eye-watering stench filled the air. Jake coughed and covered his face as he stepped around an angry skunk. He'd missed the direct spray. Its tail twitched a warning he ignored, intent on finding the intruder.

The gun fired for a third time. He felt the bullet whisk over his shoulder, startling a screech owl from its post. The bird swooped down in an angry ball of feathers and claws. Jake jumped to the side, ducking the creature. His foot hit a rock, and in an instant the world turned into a roller coaster of thick underbrush and pebbled earth.

Branches slapped at his face. He heard Cassidy yell his name as he plummeted down the steep slope. Dirt filled his nose, and spider webs clung to his face and hands. With a thud, he smacked into a tree.

His head snapped against the trunk, and he fought the blinding white lights that tugged him toward oblivion. Jake used the tree as a crutch. He stood, battling the wave of nausea from the concussive slam into the bark.

Deep breaths and a quick body check uncovered no more than a million areas that would contain ugly bruises in the morning. Nothing broken. He crouched and tried to listen through the startled animal noises caused by his spiral down the hill.

A shadow moved. Jake reached for his gun and swore silently when he realized it'd dropped during his fall. Training his eyes on the spot of movement, he deciphered the faint outline of a man hiding behind a grove of aspens. The man's face tilted upward. Following the line of vision, Jake swore beneath his breath. Not more than fifty feet above lay Cassidy.

Where was he?

And why did she feel caught in a bizarre déjà vu incident? Something about this was painfully familiar.

Damn. Damn. Damn
.

She daren't call Jake's name again, because she thought she'd caught sight of something below.

Reaching for her knife, she paused when Jake's voice rang up the ravine.

“Shoot, Cassidy!”

Shoot? Oh no, he didn't understand what he asked. She shook her head even though her heart pumped in fear. The shadow moved closer and in the light of the moon, she saw the muzzle of a gun.

“Dammit, Cassidy. Shoot!”

Her hands shook as she pulled out the gun Jake had insisted she carry. Cocking back the release, she aimed and fired, the noise more deafening than the crash of underbrush as the intruder barreled down the slope. He was running away.

“Go after him, Jake!” Why hadn't he moved?

The woods settled into silence, and Cassidy slipped down the ravine to where she could see the shape of Jake's body.

“I can't,” he said. He sounded a bit ticked off.

She crouched next to him and glanced at his face. The woods were now bathed in full moonlight, creating a canvas of muted colors and dark shadows. Cassidy peered closer and noted his complexion was a bit pale. “Why not? Are you hurt?”

He gritted his teeth and pointed to his leg. “You shot me. How could you do that? I was nowhere near the guy.”

Cassidy bit her lip and stared at his leg. Her stomach flipped, but she wouldn't show him that she cared. “You were in the same direction.” Pushing her fingers around his flesh, she ignored his indrawn breath. “It only grazed your skin. Quit your whining.” She smiled hesitantly and ripped the hem off her T-shirt. “I tried to tell you yesterday that I don't do guns.” Wrapping the torn material around his thigh, she tied it tight to ease the flow of blood.

The trees above them rustled with activity. Relying on instinct, she snatched her knife from her bootstrap and threw it through the branches, sinking it with a thud. A muffled cry echoed down.

“But you do knives?” Jake said, his voice rising in astonishment.

“Hush. I'll be right back.”

She crept up the slope. Whatever she'd hit, it wasn't human. Her knife pinned a small creature against the trunk of a large tree. She reached it and let out a sigh of despair. It was a young rabbit, no bigger than the palm of her hand. The poor thing was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

If she'd maintained her wits earlier, the knife would be buried in the back of their midnight intruder. With a quick look around, she searched for the source of what she'd heard. A branch snapped behind her. She yanked the knife from the tree and turned to protect herself. With a sigh, she relaxed. Jake had followed her up the slope.

“You can throw a knife so that it spears a rabbit at two hundred feet, but you can't shoot a damn gun?” He sat beside her. “I think I'm in shock.”

She touched the side of his neck, checking his pulse to make sure he was only kidding. “I tried to tell you about the gun, but you wouldn't listen. You insisted I have it. Besides, the rabbit was an accident. He crossed paths with my knife at the wrong time.”

“Why didn't you just throw your knife at that guy?”

Good question
. She winced and admitted to her brain malfunction. “Because you told me to shoot.”

Jake bent his head, and she tried not to grin at the pitiful picture he made. He glanced at her through a thick mop of hair. “When did you tell me you couldn't shoot?”

“Yesterday. When you gave me this thing.” She waved the gun in the air.

Jake snatched it out of her hands. “You have to take an arms and ammo class when you start at ZEBRA.”

Cassidy smiled. “I took it.” She reached over and checked his bandage. “But I never passed.”

“Ouch. Stop that.”

She helped him to his feet. “Quit being a baby, Raphael.”

Jake paused. “Raphael?”

“Didn't you ever watch
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?”
Cassidy was relieved to see him walk with only a slight limp.

Her heart had come close to bursting when she'd realized he'd been shot. By her, no less.
Of all the stupid things to do
. Jake must think her a complete idiot.
Keep moving. Keep talking
.

“I'm a turtle? At least the names I call you are pretty.”