Was Clare the one who’d killed Maggie? And why? He knew there wasn’t always a good answer, or even a satisfying one. Still, he wanted to be able to go back to Eden with an explanation that would give her peace.

  “Looking to her for direction,” Sal said. “Maybe she has connections.”

  “They’re definitely up to something.” Dakota pinned Victoria with a stare. “But nothing that warrants your move. This orchard thing could be big, but more likely they’re just squirrely because we’ve been asking around about them.”

  “So killing Maggie was a screw up?” Josh thought for a second, then said, “Maybe Austin, that other guy, and Terry were there to cover for their Aunt. Get rid of the evidence. Terry didn’t seem too upset that she was dead.” Though he had cared where she was. Josh just didn’t know what his motivation might’ve been.

  Dakota said, “Their focus is still whatever they have coming up.”

  “Do you think we stumbled onto something?”

  She shrugged in answer to Victoria’s question, then said, “Maybe.”

  “Then we need more information, so that we can know for sure.”

  “Your nuclear option is not our answer. That’s like throwing napalm on a BBQ.”

  Victoria’s lips twitched. “Visual. I like it.” She paused. “I can control the situation.”

  Dakota shook her head.

  Sal said, “You two wanna let the rest of the class in on whatever you’re talking about?” He sat straight. His body reed thin, but in no way conveying weakness.

  Josh glanced at Niall. The younger man had a thoughtful look on his face. Talia bit her eggplant lip. “No,” Dakota said. “We don’t.”

  “Then there’s nothing more to say.” Victoria picked up her purse. “I’m leaving to go get a room for the night. Josh?”

  She headed for the door, like that was all she needed to say to get him to come with her. Josh gave Neema the command to stay, then shut the door behind them, and followed her to a black SUV. She stood by the rear door, waiting. Josh opened it.

  “The gray suitcase.”

  He was supposed to carry her bag for her? Of course he’d offer to. He was a nice guy, and this wasn’t exactly entitlement on her part. Depended on who she was. Some people demanded that level of respect. And maybe she was one of them, he didn’t know.

  Josh set it down, pulled up the handle, and they were off. Headed for the main office.

  “So, Special Agent Weber.”

  He nodded.

  “Word was passed up the chain at the DEA that I should watch out for you. Be careful, as it were. Want to tell me why that might be?”

  “Can’t say I know the answer to that.” Although, he could guess who said what. “But since I won’t be sitting at a desk, drowning in paperwork while working with your team, I can’t imagine what my supervisory agent thinks I’m going to be doing. Probably that I’ll be getting shot at while running from gunmen.”

  The skin at the corner of her eyes shifted.

  “He’s likely certain I’m going to learn all kinds of bad habits from you guys. Renegades, he probably calls you. Like what you do is black ops.”

  “He’s punching the clock until retirement?”

  “He’s got eight months left.” To say the guy was playing it safe was a serious understatement.

  “And you got stuck with him?”

  “I’m learning. I am. It’s just…” Josh didn’t know how to word it without sounding ungrateful.

  “You want to know what else there is.”

  He nodded.

  “Good.”

  “How’s that?”

  She said, “The DEA might be a solid fit for you, and it sounds as if this training agent you’ve been assigned just isn’t your kind of agent. It’s helpful to learn how to blend in. That skill alone, swallowing the dissatisfaction, will come in handy. But you have to be who you are, which means eventually you have to find the spot where you fit.”

  Did she know where that was? Josh didn’t want to wait to get there.

  As much as he’d have liked it to be with Victoria and her team, it wasn’t like this was a permanent assignment. He was on loan. Not for any good reason, just because he’d been here looking for Maggie and wound up being part of it. They didn’t exactly need his help to figure out what Clare Norton and her family were up to.

  Victoria pulled open the door to the main office herself. Before she stepped inside, she turned back. “I’m going to send you a file. I want you to head over to Inland federal prison tomorrow afternoon for visiting hours. He’s being transferred in first thing, so he’ll be there.”

  “Who is he?”

  “Someone who may be able to get to the bottom of this for us.”

  “Does this have anything to do with what you and Dakota weren’t talking about?”

  The last thing he wanted was to be placed between the two of them, pitted one against the other.

  Victoria said, “It’s the same as your being here, is the easiest I can explain. The way that sometimes it takes someone else’s action to shift things. Then we end up where we were supposed to be in the beginning.”

  That sounded like playing God with someone’s life. Whoever this woman was, she evidently had no problem rearranging things to suit her.

  “It’s for the best.”

  Josh wanted to go ask Dakota if she would agree with the sentiment. Victoria left him outside in the cold, wondering if this wasn’t the real reason she’d had him kept here.

  To do things she didn’t want her real team doing.

  Chapter 12

  Dakota sat up, breathing hard. Tangled in motel bed sheets, her forehead damp with sweat. She kicked the covers off and headed for the bathroom. Talia had suggested they leave the light on in there as well as the door cracked, and now Dakota was glad for it.

  She splashed water on her face to push the images from her mind. Sensations and sounds. The sharp intake of breath. A whimper.

  She gripped the sides of the sink and hung her head. Probably the fact Victoria had brought it up had something to do with the resurgence of that nightmare. Or the pug-face woman. Both. Past and present blurring together.

  Either way, it didn’t matter. Her brain was just processing the fact she’d been kidnapped. That was all. Vulnerability was something she’d never dealt well with.

  Dakota wandered back to the motel room. Talia’s light snores came from the second bed. Her dark curls were pointed in every direction now. She wore a pink eye mask and earplugs. Her iPad was on the covers, close to the open fingers of her hand. Like she’d been half asleep, locked it, and then not had the energy to set it on the bedside table.

  The screen lit when she lifted it.

  Across it flashed a message that said, “Don’t even think about it.”

  She wrinkled her nose and set the iPad on the table. Dakota only had like, three apps on her phone, and one was for her local pizza franchise. She never went on the internet, though she did use email on her work computer. She’d never even used any kind of tablet. About the most technological thing she had was her wireless headphones—and the GPS watch. That was only because Talia forced her to wear one.

  She sat on her bed, back to the headboard. 04:32.

  Her head didn’t hurt, so that was good. Not much point trying to go back to sleep, but neither did she want to head out for a run. Injuries and no backup weren’t a good mix for being alone in an unfamiliar environment.

  Victoria might think that throwing someone in undercover was a good idea, but there was no way her idea would work. Nor would she get information out of her “source.” At least, not anything helpful.

  Dakota couldn’t argue that having someone on the inside to feed information back would be helpful. Their team had all been seen. It had to be someone Clare and everyone with her didn’t know. Talia wouldn’t work—she couldn’t pull off “country chick” if she tried—and Dakota loved that about her. She knew who she was, and she was proud of her individuality.

  Half the time Dakota didn’t even like the woman she was. But that was for another time. Or another life, where she was the kind of person who self-examined. She had too many things to do.

  Too many bad guys to catch.

  She’d been doing that for years. Moving at one hundred fifty percent and then sleeping on her days off. Through college and the police academy, at Homeland Security training. Since Victoria had spotted her, and she was picked up for the task force.

  The alternative was having way too much time on her hands to think about her life. Past, present, future. Things would be what they were. After a childhood never knowing what was going to happen next, she was content with the familiarity of her routine of closing cases and then going home. A simple life.

  She had her friends and her job. What else did she need?

  Her thoughts jumped again, and she saw Josh’s face. That split second when he’d seen her for the first time after she’d been kidnapped. Right after she’d taken a healthy amount of frustration out on Terrence Crampton.

  That look on his face. She’d never seen anything like it and couldn’t even imagine what it meant. Relief that she was all right. With a side of, “What happened to your face?” She looked worse this morning, according to the mirror in the bathroom, but she didn’t have more ice to put on her bruises.

  Dakota shut her eyes and drifted. She needed coffee. And the files for Austin, Terry and their aunt. They had to figure out what the group was up to. If not someone on the inside, what other options were there?

  They’d asked about them around town and wound up with Josh’s truck getting exploded by a grenade.

  Josh.

  Since she’d met him in the dark at the orchard there had been…something about him. She’d never been all that interested in a man before. Too busy. No time for guys who made it clear they were interested. Because what were they interested in, anyway? What kind of person did they think she was? How could they even tell she’d be worth getting to know after just a few minutes?

  Dakota had never understood that. Attraction was fleeting. Everyone wrinkled and aged eventually. Some people headed in that direction with class and a sense of style she’d never had in the first place, but Dakota couldn’t help thinking that wasn’t going to be her.

  She’d hardly be surprised if she ended up some grouchy cat lady. Or a sixty-five-year-old hit woman. What, were they going to send her to jail? Whatever. She’d had a good run.

  Or she’d be dead. Struck by some illness, or taken out at work. Did it matter which?

  There wasn’t much point trying to pretend that a “forever” relationship would work. Life almost never actually went that way.

  Dakota pushed away the lull of sleep and pulled on some clothes. Maybe the night desk clerk had coffee. At least going outside would clear her head of random thoughts about romance and a good looking guy. Okay, seriously good looking. Not that two days of beard shadow was cute. It looked more scratchy than anything else. Anyway, he had a dog. Dakota didn’t like dogs.

  She sat to pull on her boots, her brain flashing back to carrying a brown and white dog through the house in her arms so she could grab the leash and take her outside.

  Daddy didn’t like it when Eliette woke him up.

  Dakota strode out the door and flung it shut. The slam cut through the quiet of before dawn. She winced. Probably shouldn’t wake everyone up.

  A dog barked anyway.

  Dakota sighed. Busted by Neema.

  She wandered along the sidewalk in front of the doors. It had been shoveled and salted. The cold cut through her fleece jacket. She zipped the collar over her mouth.

  “Dakota?”

  She spun around and almost slid over on the sidewalk. She flung her arms out to get her balance back. “Whoa.”

  “You okay?” He stood with his head out the door, a frown on his face. T-shirt. Sweats with white stripes down the sides. Thick wool socks.

  Neema leaned against his knee in a sit. The way she’d rested her weight against Dakota’s leg last night when he’d gone to talk with Victoria. As though, in his absence, the dog had decided she should stand guard.

  “Dakota?”

  “Yeah…what?”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Just looking for coffee.” She motioned over her shoulder to the main office. He nodded. Silence stretched between them. “Okay, so I’m gonna go.”

  He nodded again, made a face and said, “Want some company?”

  “Uh…sure.”

  “I’ll get my shoes.”

  “I’ll meet you over there.” She turned away before he could say anything else.

  He caught up to her in the office. Jacket on. Wool cap pulled down over his ears. There was no coffee though so Dakota drove them to a truck stop, and they ordered breakfast. It was after five now anyway. Not much point in trying to get more sleep.

  She settled back into the booth, coffee mug in one hand. Sipping.

  Josh studied her. “You eat in places like this often?”

  She looked around. “Truck stops?”

  When he nodded, she shrugged. He said, “You seem completely at home everywhere I’ve seen you so far. The orchard, the motel. Even running out of that compound.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It’s like you know exactly who you are. The good, the bad, and the ugly. And you’re completely fine with it. No pretenses.”

  She shrugged again. Talia knew who she was. All Dakota knew was that she’d made the most of who she was—and of where she found herself. Was that a good or bad thing? She couldn’t tell from just his face. She shifted in her seat.

  “Dakota.”

  She set her cup down. “What?”

  “Not many people know who they are to that level. It’s kind of amazing actually.”

  Who she was had been inked into her skin—and she’d had that laser removed. Still, she’d been marked by her history on an elemental level. As much as she tried to forget any of it, or all of it…she couldn’t, could she? She would never be able to escape it.

  He spoke again, still studying her. “I wonder if you would have that same level of complete at-homeness in a city.”

  “Maybe not.” She shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t like to be around a lot of people.”

  “Me either. Not even for the Super Bowl will I succumb to the crowd.” He shot her a self-deprecating smile. “I’ll occasionally go as far as a sports bar, but that’s rare. I prefer my recliner at home.”

  She smiled wryly. “And how old is this recliner?”

  “About fifty years.” He laughed. “It was my dad’s.”

  Humor drained from her face. She felt her cheeks go cold, like someone had touched an ice pack to her skin. She took a sip of coffee, which made her split lip hurt. She probably looked like she’d been dragged through town by a horse. No wonder the waitress had done a double take.

  “He died three years ago.”

  “I’m sorry.” Isn’t that what you said?

  Josh nodded, that intense gaze of his still taking her in. She felt his gaze, warm on all the places she was cold. Some kind of mythical creature or a dream guide that could see into her soul. She didn’t believe in any of that. But if she did? Well, she might think he had some part of one of those beings in him.

  Intensity might be uncomfortable, but so far he’d noticed things about her that no one else had. Not even the people she was closest to. It wasn’t entirely unwelcome, the idea she could be “seen” at that level. Still, she couldn’t decide if she liked it or not.

  One of the ladies at the church she went to sometimes had told her that God saw everything she did and said, heard everything she thought—even the intent behind her thoughts. Mostly Dakota didn’t want to acknowledge it. God was God, and she was down here. Working.

  Considering how it felt with Josh, maybe she should think about God more. Dakota liked her privacy, but was that a reality?

  Maybe she needed to face the truth.

  Josh asked her how she got started with Victoria’s task force, so she told him. As for why she joined Homeland Security in the first place, Dakota gave him the pat answer she offered everyone. The one about serving her country. Justice, and all that.

  When he started to ask another question, she said, “How about you? DEA?”

  He fingered the handle of his mug. “Saw too many people go down that way. Even in the service, guys I rode with got hooked. Long days, killer hours. We had to stay awake.” He sighed. “Stuff was passed around. A buddy of mine OD’d.” His eyes didn’t meet hers, but she could see he was lost in memory. In the sting of losing someone close.

  Dakota didn’t know what that felt like. She’d never lost someone she actually cared about. Couldn’t imagine what it would feel like if one of her teammates was killed. “So you’re fighting the good fight now?”

  “Trying to,” he said. “The agent I was assigned to is content logging hours pushing papers until retirement.”

  “And you were hoping for more action?”

  “How did you know?”

  She shook her head, the pull of a teasing smile on her lips. “You just have this…sense about you. Like you know who you are. What you want.”

  He smiled back. “Touché.”

  She laughed, then finished off her food. When the waitress brought the check, Josh said, “Can I get four sausage links and two pancakes to go?” He pulled a couple of twenties from his wallet for the bill.

  “Sure.” The waitress brought it in a box, and they headed outside.

  The sidewalk had been salted, but the parking lot was slick still. Dakota turned on the car engine and rubbed her hands together.

  Neema stuck her head between the seats, her nose twitching with rapid breaths.

  “I know,” Josh said. His voice was soft, his affection for the animal clear.

  “Was she your dog in the marines?”

  He nodded, tearing the pancakes into pieces. He handed Neema a piece of sausage. “Got hit by a ricochet, tore up her hip. She’s good, but she can’t handle long days anymore. Took months and a whole lot of paperwork, but I got approval for her.”