He was quiet for a second, then said, “Thought about kidnapping her a couple times. The family they gave her to was nice and all, but she wasn’t their dog. When they saw her with me, they were good enough not to make a stink about it.”

  Dakota nodded, not sure what she was supposed to say. They were a matched pair. But if Neema should have been adopted out after being retired, then there would’ve been nothing he could do.

  Neema had been the property of the US Marines and assigned where they decided. Some partners would certainly have given up long before Josh. But it was clear both of them were far happier together than they ever would have been apart.

  Neema shifted her muzzle toward Dakota’s face. The tongue swipe came out of nowhere.

  “She likes you.”

  Dakota made a face. “Or maybe I just smell like pancakes.”

  He chuckled. “That’s possible, I guess. Not a dog person?”

  “Is it that obvious?”

  “Maybe you just haven’t been around dogs all that much.”

  She shrugged.

  “Or you had a bad experience.”

  Neema settled on the backseat, and Dakota pulled out onto the highway.

  “Have you?”

  “What?”

  “Been around dogs that much?”

  Dakota didn’t know how to answer that. There had been dogs in the yard when she was a child. Not the kind you pet, though. Then there was Elliette. Her dog.

  Hers.

  “Dakota.”

  She glanced at him but couldn’t read the look on his face, not while she was driving. “So where are you headed to today?”

  He was quiet for a few seconds, clearly knowing she didn’t want to talk about dogs. Then he said, “Victoria has an errand.”

  “Right.” He’d mentioned that, and she was more than curious what it was.

  “I’m borrowing her rental. She has me headed to Inland Federal Prison to see a guy named Harlem Roberts.” Everything inside her turned to ice. “I don’t know how he fits, but Victoria thinks he can give us something that’ll help, I guess. So that’s where I’m going.”

  Dakota hit the brake. She stopped so fast Josh had to brace one hand on the dash. “Get out.”

  “Right now?” He turned to her, incredulous.

  “Get out.”

  “We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

  Dakota leaned close and screamed in his face. “GET OUT.”

  Chapter 13

  Josh saw Victoria’s rental car turn the corner. When it neared him, she swung the vehicle in an arc and pulled up beside him. He opened the passenger door and got in.

  Victoria hardly waited for him to shut the door before she hit the gas.

  He shot her a look and buckled up. “So you’re mad at me too?”

  She glanced over. Shook her head once, a sharp movement. “Why would you say that?”

  He pushed out a breath. Maybe because she was driving like this was the Indy 500 and she was already two laps behind?

  Frustration boiled in him. Dakota hadn’t even given him the chance to get Neema out of the back seat. She just sped off, leaving him by the roadside.

  “Maybe you could just call Dakota and tell her to bring my dog to my motel room.” No point in him sticking around now. He’d been here to help the team. But she clearly didn’t need, or want, any help. Once she brought his animal back he could figure out transportation and get home.

  Did she forget he’d been shot for her?

  He should’ve brought the meds the doctor had given him to the restaurant so he could take a dose. Now he was full from eating too much and in enough pain it couldn’t be ignored. Which made him grumpy.

  “On it.”

  The voice from the backseat made him twist around. He groaned aloud as a sharp pain surged through his shoulder. He faced forward again.

  “That looked painful.” It was Talia. But her voice sounded far away under the rushing water in his ears. “I sent Dakota a text.”

  At least he had a few hours before she wanted him at that federal prison. Given how Dakota had reacted, he wasn’t entirely sure he should be going. The can of worms was fully open now. He could either continue to tick her off, or he could act like a defiant child and tell Victoria, “No.”

  Right now he was in entirely too much pain to decide. He didn’t want to whine about it but had all of these people forgotten he’d been shot yesterday? He thought he’d pushed through pretty well. Maybe now it was finally hitting him.

  Josh breathed through the pain. He wanted to touch a hand to his chest, but it was almost excruciating. In the diner he’d been okay. Talking to Dakota, whose eye wasn’t totally swollen this morning but still puffy. She’d seemed better. Maybe just happy to be free of that shed and those people. Restless to get on with doing something to get back at them. He’d been satisfied for food to make him feel better. That was short lived. Now he couldn’t ignore it.

  “You need a hospital?” That was Victoria.

  “No. Just a pit stop at my room.”

  “Okay.”

  Josh hit the button to lower the window, enough he could suck in a few breaths of crisp air. Push down the nausea.

  Victoria sent the SUV careening around a corner. From the backseat, Talia chuckled. Josh groaned.

  “Oh,” Victoria said. “Sorry.” But she didn’t slow down.

  Josh needed to distract himself. “Who is this Harlem guy, and why is Dakota so fired up about him?” He heard an intake of breath from the back seat, but Talia said nothing.

  Victoria drove, eyes on the road. “They have…history.”

  That was supposed to explain the situation to him? “Why do you think he’ll help in this case?” It wasn’t like anything related to Dakota, or her history, was at play here. Or any person. It was about that orchard, and Clare and her crew.

  “She called it the ‘nuclear option’ for a reason, right?” He knew there was a tone in his voice. Frustration and pain were bleeding through.

  Maybe he should be a little more respectful with a superior, but it seemed like Victoria was going her own way. Like she was willing to dredge up something personal Dakota didn’t want to revisit, all to get a win on this case.

  The question was, would it be worth it? Was she willing to burn a bridge just to get the result she was looking for?

  Victoria said, “I’m exploring options at this time.”

  A diplomatic answer, and one that meant exactly nothing. “I think you seized an opportunity to pull in someone not part of your team. To get me to do something you’d never assign to them—because Dakota would see it as a betrayal no matter who did it.”

  Using him as a scapegoat was a gutsy move. Not something he’d ever entertain, but Victoria evidently was prepared to do it.

  He glanced over. She bit her lip. Maybe with doubts. “I’m not under any illusion he doesn’t know who we all are,” she said. “If I were him, I’d know.”

  “So you want me to go because this guy, whoever he is, doesn’t know who I am?”

  She nodded. “He’s a potential source of information.”

  “On what?”

  “Militias, specifically. Along with transporting stuff across the state, and even into Canada—though that was never proven.”

  Maybe it wasn’t as bad as he’d thought. Especially if it could help. But there still had to be a reason why Dakota reacted the way she did. Who was this guy to her? Josh needed to get his hands on the case file for Harlem Roberts. Or his rap sheet.

  “Why do I think there’s a whole lot you’re not telling me?”

  She glanced over for a second before returning her attention to the road. “Because there’s a whole lot I’m not telling you. The bottom line is, I’m hoping you showing up to talk to him will trigger something. We need information. That means we need someone who will spill when knocked off guard.”

  “Not Austin?” Dakota seemed to think the teen could still be a good source of information. Assuming he hadn’t split with the rest of them and gone underground—though, Josh was only guessing that was what happened after Dakota escaped from them.

  “Another angle to explore. That’s why we’re headed straight to the compound. Dakota and Sal will go to the orchard, talk to the residents again. Today is about seeing where the chips fall.”

  So long as Josh could get some Ibuprofen soon, he had no problem with that. “I’ll need to hit town at some point. Get a new car.” Otherwise he’d be stranded here. He hadn’t even had a call back from his insurance guy yet.

  Josh shut his eyes and took a few breaths. Everything was moving so fast, and the last two days had been insane. Normally at this time on a Sunday he would be getting Eden into his truck to take her to church. How was she going to get there this morning?

  He hadn’t even told her that he’d found Maggie.

  His eyes burned. Josh kept them squeezed shut. As soon as he got home, he was going to have to tell her that Maggie was dead. That she’d been murdered.

  Someone tapped his shoulder. Josh opened his eyes to see Talia’s dark-skinned hand stretched out toward him. In the center of her palm was a collection of little red pills. He took them, and she handed him a bottle of water.

  “Thanks.”

  “Hardly going to fix all your problems.” She patted his shoulder. “But it’s a start. So you’re welcome.”

  He wanted to smile. Seriously, he did. But what was there to smile about? His life was in shambles. What had started as a trip out here to find a young wayward woman had turned into a full-fledged investigation with him in the middle. Getting shot. Running through the woods, rescuing Dakota. Trying to figure out what these people were doing.

  Did he even care what Clare Norton and those Crampton guys were up to? It wasn’t like it had anything to do with him, except for the fact he’d quite like to get back at them for shooting him. But right now he had no truck and his dog was with someone who, by her own admission, didn’t exactly like dogs.

  Was she taking care of Neema?

  . . .

  The driveway at the orchard was long and looked different than it had the night they’d found Maggie’s body.

  Sausage-flavored breath blew against her cheek. Dakota huffed out a laugh. Fine. Neema was the one who’d found Maggie.

  “You like this dog.”

  Dakota shot Sal a sharp look from her spot in the passenger seat. Now that she didn’t have to pretend she was okay—mostly because Sal would see through it anyway—she was having him drive. Plus, he wasn’t worse off than her since he hadn’t been shot.

  The way Josh had been.

  She wanted to feel guilty about the way she’d just left him there on the side of the road. Maybe part of her was. A small part. But he didn’t have to know that.

  She also didn’t expect him to know, and she wasn’t planning on telling him. Even if he asked.

  It was none of his business.

  “I don’t like dogs,” Sal said, not to her exactly. “I just like my dog.”

  “What?”

  “My dad always said that. Didn’t like dogs, just liked his dog.”

  It struck a chord in her. Not unlike Josh saying his name. Harlem Roberts. Ugh. That was the last thing she needed—more nightmares.

  Harlem. Dogs. Her past. All of it was like some nightmarish gift she’d been given. One she now carried around with her everywhere she went.

  “So what’s the deal with dogs?”

  “I had a sheepdog puppy when I was little.” Dakota stared out the window. “My father shot her.”

  “Dakot—”

  “Don’t.” She shook her head. “It was a long time ago.”

  This whole weekend was supposed to have been about recon. Then she met Josh in the orchard and everything went wrong. Now she had a concussion, she’d been beaten. Her father’s name was being thrown around.

  Harlem Roberts.

  Inland Federal Prison.

  The whole thought was like salt in one of her wounds. A painful scratch that wouldn’t heal. A—

  “If you think any harder your head is going to explode.”

  Dakota said, “Maybe it already has.”

  “Yeah, I heard about Josh. Guess he found out what happens when you stick your hand too close to the flames.” He lifted his eyebrows and threw the car in park.

  Dakota didn’t want to go there. In fact, she seriously did not want to talk about it. Or be here at all, for that matter. She thought she might be in dire need of a vacation.

  She pulled out her phone.

  “We need to go talk to these people,” Sal said. “Stow that thing, and let’s go.”

  She shook her head. “I need to find out how many vacation days I still have left for the year.”

  “How about…all of them.”

  “Oh yeah. Right.” She lowered her phone and looked at him. They might not spend all that much time together in the grand scheme, but she thought they might actually be the closest thing each other had to a real friend.

  “Running away to Rapid City isn’t going to help.”

  “You think I’m going to head to South Dakota for a vacation?” She wanted to laugh. “I was thinking more like Maui. I hear it’s a balmy eighty degrees about this time of year.”

  “Sure. If you like sunshine.” He made a face that had her finally laughing.

  “I really do.” She sighed. “But not too hot.”

  He smiled, and they climbed out of the car. Neema pressed her nose against the back window.

  Sal took point. Dakota hung back, eyeing the hound sniffing at weeds on the driveway.

  When the front door was opened, Sal introduced them both. Even though she’d been there Friday night.

  Mr. Johnson mashed his lips together. He held the door like he might want to slam it in their faces. “Pretty sure we’ve already said everything we’re going to say about that dead girl. And we’re about to head to church.”

  Sal said, “We just have a few follow-up questions. We won’t take up too much of your time, and then you can be off to church.”

  Johnson frowned. The wife moved to his side, her steps completely silent even though she wore brown flats and the floor was bare tile. It had to take serious practice to move that quietly.

  Mr. Johnson said, “Whatever. Just make it quick.”

  He stepped aside, half bumping into the wife. She took a side step and laid a hand on his arm. He didn’t react to it. It was like he didn’t even see her there. “Living room.” He turned and led the way.

  The wife followed him in. Then Sal. Dakota shut the front door and made her way through the dim hall—all the blinds closed. The living room was the same. It smelled like the air never moved, and the fireplace was cold even with the chill in the air. Mrs. Johnson’s thin sweater probably wouldn’t keep her warm, but they had a roof over their heads. Food in the fridge and the pantry. Or she assumed so, given Mr. Johnson’s build.

  That was more than some people had.

  Dakota had learned through the police department and into her career as a federal agent that some people wanted to live their lives. They didn’t want change. They wanted things to be the way they were, and you weren’t to interfere in that. Helping just got your hand slapped.

  Mr. Johnson spun to face them. “So ask.”

  No one sat. Or was invited to sit.

  The wife said, “We didn’t know the dead girl. We’ve already told you that.” She directed her statement to Dakota. “What else is there to know?”

  Presenting a united front. Or appearing that way. But there was something Austin Crampton had possessed that was missing here.

  Since she had the wife’s attention, Dakota bent her wrist to point at her face. “The people who did this to me live in a compound north of town. They’re the ones the dead woman was tied up with. They’re the reason she’s dead.” She paused a second to send a prayer of thanks to God that she wasn’t dead too. The first time she’d acknowledged what could have happened.

  But she couldn’t afford for that to trip her up right now.

  We hold these truths to be self-evident…

  Mrs. Johnson’s eyes flared. She sucked in a breath and ended up coughing.

  “What do we care?” the husband said. “Probably stuck your nose in as well.”

  “As opposed to you,” Sal returned. “Someone who keeps his nose out of their business and turns a blind eye to what’s going on at your orchard. Still means you’re an accessory to whatever they’re up to.”

  Dakota turned to the wife. “What is it? What are they shipping through here that makes them willing to kill a young woman in order to keep a secret?”

  “Doesn’t matter,” the wife said around another cough.

  Mr. Johnson folded his arms. “It is what it is.”

  Dakota figured that meant they thought they had no choice but to put up with it. They didn’t want to face the consequences of dissension. “You’d rather be under the thumb of people who would kill just to protect themselves?”

  No one said anything, so Dakota offered up a morsel. “Clare Norton called this orchard ‘hers.’ Not yours. She thinks her people are the ones who own this place.” She paused. “And that they own you.”

  The husband shrugged one beefy shoulder. “Like I said. It is what it is.”

  Chapter 14

  Sal pulled the vehicle all the way into the compound. Dakota bit the inside of her cheek, not allowing any other reaction to slip through.

  In the daylight it looked like any other compound housing a local militia. People living off the land. Under the radar. Off the grid. When they got bored of meat they’d raised and vegetables they’d grown, they would call and order a pizza. Just like everyone else.

  She flung the car door open and Victoria approached. “Okay?”

  Dakota nodded. Neema jumped out. The dog brushed past the back of her right knee, nearly knocking her over in her haste to get to Josh.

  He grinned as she ran at him, then patted his chest. Neema placed her front paws on his shirt. “Hey there, beautiful.” He rubbed up and down her flanks until she hopped off, her tail swishing side to side.