Out Rider. Lindsay McKennaЧитать онлайн книгу.
You know I’m across the hall from you. Just knock if you need anything.” Instantly, Sloan saw her worry disappear. He filed that reaction away and would chew on it later.
“That would be fine,” Dev murmured. “Have a good afternoon.”
Sloan headed for the door. “Hey, I’ll be inside a dry barn doing my shoeing. I’m a happy camper. See you two later,” he said, and he waved goodbye and slipped outside.
BART GORDON SAT at one end of the U-shaped counter in Mo’s Ice Cream Parlor in the main square of Jackson Hole. He was nursing his cup of coffee and noticed how the place was bustling with customers. At 9:00 a.m., tourists were filtering in for breakfast. He’d already eaten his eggs, bacon and hash browns, and was now content to watch the flow of traffic. One corner of his mouth ticked upward. Wouldn’t it be hilarious if Dev McGuire waltzed into this place? He wouldn’t want to be seen by her because it was far too early for that. Still, he relished the thought, his mind taking flight, imagining the shocked look on her face when she spotted him. A sense of satisfaction raced through him. All he had to do was see her face in his mind or say her name, and his body ignited with desire for her.
He was angry at her for getting him fired from his forest ranger job. Claiming assault with the attempt to rape her. The bitch. So he had been a little rough with her. The women he knew liked it that way. It made him feel manly. In charge. A woman should always be controlled, and he enjoyed it. Moving the cream-colored ceramic mug between his large hands, he tasted rage over her reaction to his wanting her. He’d been a forest ranger for seven years after coming out of the Army transportation command. At thirty, he was hanging his hat on doing his twenty years with the USFS and collecting a nice pension that would be the bedrock for his old age. But Dev had destroyed all his plans. Utterly. Revenge warred with desire for the woman.
Dev wasn’t just any woman. He liked black-haired women who had spirit and were confident. And he liked his women to be fighters, giving as good as they got. That turned Bart on. His mouth quirked and he scowled. How the hell could he have known Dev was going to take his advances like that? Every other woman wanted his strength, his mastery, and wanted to be tamed by him. They liked being subjugated. And they all liked rough sex. So did he.
This morning, he had an interview with Blake Rivas, owner of Ace Trucking. In the military, he’d been in transportation and had driven the big trucks. A semi truck was no different. He could call upon those four years’ worth of skills and convince Rivas that he would be a damn good driver for his huge company. Bart was desperate to get a job. He’d purposely come to this town because Dev was here. A hard anger congealed in his gut. He was going to make her pay for what she’d done to him. Only this time, she wasn’t going to live to go to the police and hang his ass a second time around.
Sipping his coffee, watching the sunlight dance through the large picture windows that showed the busy square, he smiled to himself. First, he’d get a job. Then he’d rent an apartment. Lastly, but most important, he’d begin to shadow Dev and watch in order to learn her habits. Then he could plan to kidnap her. It would take time, but he was patient. Above all, Bart didn’t want to be connected to her murder when someone discovered Dev’s naked body tossed into the woods. In fact, he was planning on learning the grizzly territory around here, planning on letting one of them use her dead body as food. His smile widened as he thought about how his revenge would be set in motion and getting even with Dev. He could hardly wait to see the look in her eyes when he caught her, took her somewhere private, had his way with her, kept her chained up so she couldn’t escape. He would degrade her. Then, and only then, when he tired of her, would he get rid of her once and for all.
* * *
DEV TOOK A deep breath and rose from the seat in the outer office of the USFS superintendent’s office. The assistant smiled and gestured for her to go through the closed door for her first interview with Charlotte Hastings, her new boss. At her side was Bella, in her work uniform and harness as a working dog. She wore a lightweight nylon jacket that said Tracking Dog on it. Dev had placed the black nylon martingale harness across Bella’s broad chest and over her shoulders. Not liking a chain collar around her dog’s neck, Dev used a leather one that hung comfortably around Bella instead. She gripped the nylon leash and nodded her thanks to the assistant. Bella walked calmly at her side, alert.
She got her first look at her new boss. The fifty-year-old blond-haired woman in her Forest Service uniform sat at her large maple desk. The office was located on the second floor of the building, in a corner where large windows allowed in a lot of light. It was a beautiful place for an office, Dev thought as she closed the door and turned around to greet Charlotte.
“Come on in,” the woman called, smiling and standing. She moved from behind her desk and shook hands with Dev. “I’m Charlotte,” she said. “And this must be your tracking dog, Bella?” She reached down and patted the dog’s head.
“Yes, ma’am, it is,” Dev said.
Charlotte straightened and gestured to a chair at one corner of her desk. “Have a seat, Ranger McGuire.”
Dev took her seat and Bella sat down next to her. The HQ was parallel to the main highway that led into the park. A lot of cars moved slowly past the building because they’d just come out of paying the fee to enter the park. Across the way, Dev could see the newly built three-story visitor’s center opposite of the HQ. She pushed her left palm down her green trousers, getting rid of the dampness. Hastings sat down at her leather chair. Supervisors, she’d found over the years, came in many different stripes. It was rare that a woman was at the top post at a park. She didn’t know what the woman’s agenda would be, but she’d find out shortly. Her supervisor seemed efficient because there were a number of stacks of files on her desk. They weren’t messy, but rather organized.
“Ranger McGuire,” she said, folding her hands over Dev’s opened file, “you come to us highly recommended. We’ve been needing a tracker and tracking dog here for this park for some time now, so I’m personally glad to see you here.”
Dev felt some relief. At least she wasn’t going to get stuck in some office, away from the outdoors. Which could have happened. “Yes, ma’am,” she said, “I’m happy to be here, too.”
“Every year between May and October, we get at least fifty calls for lost children, elders or adults here in the Tetons.” Charlotte scowled. “And it takes a lot of my personnel halting their jobs to go off looking for these individuals.” Looking at Dev’s file, she said, “You and Bella have an excellent record of finding lost souls in the Smoky Mountains region. I see no reason why you won’t do as well here.”
“I anticipate we’ll be able to do the same here,” Dev said.
“Well,” Charlotte said, raising her head, “we have grizzly bears out here and the Smoky Mountains only have small black bears. There’s a huge difference between them. A dog barking at a black bear will send it running away.” She pointed at Bella. “If she barks here, the grizzly will take it as a challenge and go after your dog.”
It was a grim warning. “Bella doesn’t bark.”
“Not even when faced with an elk? A deer? Or a black bear?”
“No, ma’am.” Dev saw some relief in the superintendent’s blue eyes.
“Well,” she muttered, “I hope that’s true because grizzly bears hate dogs. They see them as a certified threat. That means if one sees you and the dog, they could stalk you or just outright charge you, Ranger McGuire.”
“I need to get up on grizzly behavior before I go out to track,” Dev agreed.
“You will carry the following on you whenever you’re tracking, Ranger. A rifle, a pistol, a quart of bear spray and a radio. We keep constant monitoring of the bears in this park for good reason. But there’s always new ones wandering into the area we don’t know about. On a given search for a lost person, you’re going