“Anyone I know?”

  “Unknown. She’s been strangled.” At her words, the man winced. “By the look of how she was dumped, I’d say tossed here. Killed somewhere else.”

  “Give me an hour.”

  Dakota wasn’t sure that was possible, unless the team was closer than she knew. Victoria was resourceful, though.

  The director said, “I know a guy in Life Flight. If they’re not busy I’ll have the team in the chopper and at your location ASAP.”

  “Copy that.”

  “Forensics?”

  “And I’ve got a witness.” One who was possibly a suspect.

  Victoria said, “Who?”

  Dakota watched him, giving back that intense study he was doing of her in equal measure. “Unknown. So far.”

  He was going to tell her who he was, or they were going to have a big problem. Given all the people Victoria knew, and the number of people in the federal government who owed her a favor, they could collectively make this guy’s life a nightmare.

  He must have seen something of her intent in her eyes, because his brows lifted. But he said nothing.

  “Be careful.”

  “Oh, I will.” Dakota let him make of her tone whatever he wanted.

  Victoria hung up chuckling, though it sounded uneasy. Dakota put her phone back in her pocket and gave the man an assessing look. “Military?”

  “At one point.”

  “Tell me what your name is.” Not a question, a command. “Better yet, show me your wallet.”

  He lifted his chin. “Driver’s license, or badge?” A clear challenge, but there was something there.

  Was he on an operation? She couldn’t help but wonder if this guy was here in an official capacity. She waved to the body. “Friend of yours?”

  That wince came again.

  “Name.” She put every ounce of authority she possessed into it.

  “Josh Weber, as I’ve already told you,” he said. “But I’d rather my name was left off the official Homeland Security report.”

  Ah-ha. “Not supposed to be here?” Maybe she took a little too much satisfaction in that. This wasn’t a competition, and neither was the authority here in question. Obviously she was in charge. He just didn’t seem to have wholly recognized that yet. Or wasn’t willing to submit to it.

  He shrugged and glanced over at his dog. No less alert than before, but not baring teeth at Dakota either.

  “Why don’t you just tell me why, and I’ll see what I can do?” She could be nice. Sometimes.

  He scratched at his hair. To buy time so he could figure out what to say? “Can I look at the body? See if it really is who I think it might be?”

  She took a step back and to the side, so she’d be able to see whatever he did and still keep him in her sights. “Don’t touch anything. And don’t get too close.”

  He crouched and bent to look at the woman’s face. “I’m going to pull out my phone.”

  Dakota nodded.

  He slid it from the front pocket of his jeans and swiped the screen. Despite the sweater and heavy jacket, he was probably as cold as she was and she wore gloves. When he’d swiped to what he wanted, he showed her the screen, a grim look on his face.

  Dakota nodded again, still holding her gun in front. A loose aim on him. She’d drop him if he tried anything. “Why do you have a dead woman’s picture on your phone?”

  “She’s my neighbor’s granddaughter. Her name is Maggie.” He paused for a second. “She’s nineteen.”

  “Okay,” Dakota said. “I’ll tell the medical examiner when he shows up. Any idea of the last name?”

  His frown was back. Almost like he’d given her some test she hadn’t studied for, and she’d failed. What was up with that? He said, “Detweiler.”

  “Okay,” she repeated. Why choose a different word when the same one worked? It wasn’t redundant, it was efficient. “Now back up.”

  “I want to lay my coat over her.”

  “What? No.”

  He straightened. “It’s respectful.”

  “It’s also cold as all get out.” Dakota motioned to the dead young woman with a sweep of her hand. “She doesn’t need it.”

  A car engine revved to Dakota’s left. Headlights cut across this field in the orchard. The dog let out one short, sharp bark. Like it wasn’t obvious to them all that someone was here?

  Dakota glanced toward the truck, taking her attention off the man for just a second.

  She heard the rustle and realized what he’d done.

  Half expecting him to barrel into her, she shifted back. Fighting stance. Ready for whatever came. Then it registered that the sound grew quieter, now gone over the noise of that truck.

  He was running away from her.

  “Hey!”

  She raced after him, mad at herself that he got a head start. Rookie mistake. One that grated against her. She wasn’t naïve, far from it. The admittedly cute murderer was going to have to face the consequences when she caught up with him.

  At the truck?

  He was getting picked up. That had to be it.

  Dakota ducked between two trees, and with the dark, she missed the branch. Not because she was distracted by being angry at this guy, it was just the lack of light and the fact he’d ruined her night vision with that flashlight.

  She slammed into it with the corner of her forehead and went down. Flat on her back.

  Out cold.

  . . .

  Josh ran toward the truck. He skirted around to the left so he would come up on the passenger side. But not close. He had no intention of doing anything but observe. He was here to find out what had happened to Maggie. If it involved these people, then he needed to know. Like he needed to know if this truck was dark blue. The color of her boyfriend’s half ton rig.

  Neema kept pace beside him. He ducked between two trees, and a branch whipped at his face. Ouch. The sting radiated across his cheek.

  He glanced back to look for the Homeland agent. No one on his heels, and no sound of someone either. But that truck roared through the field. Headlights dipped and rose as it traversed ruts in the ground. Pretty soon it would knock down an apple tree.

  Brakes squealed. Josh winced at the sound, more for what it would do to Neema’s sensitive hearing than his own. He gave a command and they slowed, Josh angling both of them in the same semi-circle so they came up on the passenger side. He padded through trees and kept low.

  The engine shut off.

  A door slammed…two.

  Three.

  Outnumbered, even with Neema’s help.

  He got close enough to spot two figures cross the beam of the headlights. Tall, bulky men. They were accompanied by one shorter and thinner. Wiry like a teenage boy. Was one of the men Maggie’s boyfriend? Her killer?

  If so, why return to the place she was dumped? That made no sense. He’d want to keep himself as far from the situation as possible. Not risk being seen here.

  “Where?” One man barked.

  The teen lifted his arm. “Over there.” His voice shook as badly as his extended limb. Josh watched him lower it back by his side.

  The man who’d spoken first grasped him on the back of the neck and shoved his body forward. “I mean, show me. Idiot.”

  The young one stumbled. “O-kay.”

  Josh watched them walk across the field, through rows of apple trees toward Maggie’s dead body. Neema stood completely still and silent by his side. Ready for whatever command he would give.

  He followed the men, hanging back so they wouldn’t hear him. The homeland security agent had seemed in command, capable. Was she watching the same way he did? Surely she’d have caught up to him by now.

  One of the men swore loudly, fast and short as a gunshot.

  Josh frowned. The men had stopped suddenly.

  “What…oh.” The first man, the one who seemed to be in charge. Of at least the teen. “She’s out cold.”

  “She’s hot.” That was the teen. There was a shuffle, and he said, “Ow. What’d you do that for?”

  “You don’t get dibs.” A third voice, one Josh hadn’t heard yet.

  The teen said, “Fine. I see how it is.”

  “And don’t forget it.”

  The first man spoke again. “Dakota Pierce. This says, ‘Homeland Security Investigations.’” He swore again. “What’s she doing out here?”

  The third man said, “She’s got a nasty gash on her forehead. She dead?”

  Josh’s entire body felt like it turned to stone. Neema shifted closer, sensing the change in him. He wanted to yell. Or throw up.

  “Nah,” the man answered. “Just out cold.”

  The teen said, “Was she looking for Maggie, too?”

  “You mean the girl you decided to just dump out here in the open?”

  “I said I was sorry,” the teen whined.

  “Take her gun. And don’t shoot your foot off.”

  “Do we have time for this?” one of the taller men asked.

  “Depends on what you had in mind.”

  Josh didn’t like the tenor of their conversation at all. Whatever they wanted to do with Dakota, it wasn’t going to be good. Had she been conscious she’d probably have shot them already. She hadn’t seemed like a woman who would accept a whole lot of that kind of thing, and maybe that was an understatement. As for him, he would be right there beside her, adding his own bullets to the mix.

  Except for the fact the rounds would be extracted from these men by the local coroner. Then he’d have to answer a bunch of uncomfortable questions about why his slugs were found in dead lowlifes at a spot he wasn’t exactly supposed to be.

  It should’ve been his weekend off. Josh was already skating on thin ice with his boss, an assistant director at the DEA. And with the senior agent he’d been assigned to.

  He hadn’t realized how badly he would grate against the procedure. He’d figured there would be a whole lot more hands-on work alongside the paperwork he accepted as necessary. What he hadn’t anticipated was being paired with one of those agents just clocking in and out every day, biding his time until retirement. The man only wanted to do computer work.

  Josh had been “boots on the ground” for as long as he could remember. And he had a sealed juvenile record to prove it. Always wading into the fight when there was someone to protect. Something to fix. Or save.

  There was no way he’d let this agent face three men alone. Especially when she was unconscious. He wanted his life to count for something even if that meant he got messy in the process, or if he risked his job.

  He had to help this woman.

  The three men were still talking. So graphic, it was getting pretty gross.

  “And when we’re done?” the teen asked, his voice animated now.

  “We kill her,” the first man said. “You’re the expert at dumping bodies. Guess that makes it your job.” Bitterness laced his tone.

  “I said I was sorry. What more do you want from me?”

  Number three said, “How about a little respect for your brother?” He paused. “Now pick her up. Let’s go.”

  Josh moved in closer, gun out in front, and called out, “Hold up.”

  Two of them whipped around, guns drawn. The teen dropped Dakota’s arm.

  “No one is taking her anywhere.”

  Dakota started to stir, letting out a moan.

  Neema growled. Josh said, “You boys best move on.”

  He wanted to arrest them all, but had no backup and wasn’t out here with any of the authority his own badge held.

  One of them lifted his weapon higher. The other’s attention was on Josh’s dog. She had Kevlar strapped around her, but she could still get seriously hurt if they managed to hit her.

  Josh took a half step left to cover her.

  He saw the movement as it began. Knew the man’s intention immediately. He’d been in too many firefights not to recognize that glint in someone’s eyes. Murder looked the same the world over.

  Even at home.

  Bullets flew. He dove to the side. Rolled.

  And came up shooting.

  Chapter 3

  Clothing brushed her face. Someone stepped on her hand with their boot—thank you, gloves. Still hurt, though. Dakota couldn’t help the moan that escaped her lips with her next exhale.

  She blinked at the sky. Her head reverberated pain from a spot on her temple to the back of her neck, where her pulse throbbed with every heartbeat.

  A gunshot blasted.

  Two shots answered it. Then a third.

  Pause.

  “You wanna go down for killing two feds,” someone called out, “then keep this up.” Her mystery man. Where was his dog?

  A gunshot answered him.

  “That’s some heat you’ll have on you. Until you’re locked up for life.” He went quiet and a shot rang out. “I wouldn’t want that much attention.”

  Dakota’s ears rang. She tried to lift her head, but everything rotated. Her. The ground underneath her. She rolled and vomited onto the dirt.

  Voices called out. She couldn’t make out the words, or who it was.

  “…go!”

  “What about—”

  “Just go!”

  The truck? She remembered that, but not much else. What was going on? Dakota pressed her hands onto the ground and tried to do a push up, get her feet under her. She managed knees. When she lifted her head the world swam again. She forced herself to wait, to get steady in her balance, and then she stood. Swayed. Leaned against a tree.

  A tree. That was it.

  She reached up and touched her forehead. Pain stabbed like a knife, but she couldn’t feel much with her gloves on and couldn’t see what that wet stuff was. Blood. She wiped at the injury with the back of her hand.

  A truck engine revved. Dakota turned her body first, letting her head move at the same time as her shoulders. Headlights swept over the trees, and she flinched. Too bright.

  Not her first concussion. And on a scale of one to bad. This was…probably a seven. But only because of the blood.

  Now, what did she have to do first? She couldn’t think against the nausea.

  Something nudged her hand, low by her hip. She looked down and saw the dog. Couldn’t remember her name. She lifted her hand to touch its head…

  “There you are.”

  She turned and tried to speak, but that sick feeling clogged her throat.

  “Shhh.” He reached up to touch her forehead. Dakota sent a weak palm strike into his chest. He barely moved but dropped his hand. “Point taken. No touching. But you’re hurt.”

  Dakota took a slow breath, then exhaled. Cold air. No more hurling. “I’m okay.”

  His look told her what he thought of that. “They’re gone. It’s just us again.”

  “And the dead girl.”

  He nodded. “I think they might’ve been here to find her.”

  “Huh.” She couldn’t nod right now, and she didn’t know what else to say.

  “Did they hurt you?”

  “Ran into a tree. Chasing you.” She should’ve brought cuffs with her. It would be eminently satisfying if she could slap those bad boys on him—to get him back for leaving out some key information. He’d told her nothing. She didn’t want to admit to a desire to pay him back for her injury too, but…

  Okay, she should at least be honest with herself, even if the truth was ugly. Even if it meant she was someone she wouldn’t even want to be mixed up with.

  He had the decency to wince at least. Good. It was basically his fault.

  “Can I see?” He turned on his flashlight.

  Dakota waved it away. “Who are you?” It had been his voice, saying those guys would be killing two feds. She had a whole lot of questions about what’d happened while she’d been unconscious, but still.

  “Is that really the point right now?”

  “You’re a fed.”

  “Okay,” he said. “But this isn’t an official investigation, so it’s not like that’s relevant.”

  “It is.”

  “I’m not here as a fed.”

  “Just a man with a dog,” she said, “looking for a body. Josh Weber.” She was pretty proud of herself for remembering that.

  “You really don’t look good.” He reached for her elbow. “Can you walk, or do you want to sit down?”

  Dakota pulled out her phone instead. “Backup will be here in a minute.” The team would descend, and she’d have to have her act together. At least enough to fight past the sickness and do her job. “I need a bandage.”

  He shone the light at her face. “You need more than that.”

  “No, I don’t.” She gritted her teeth at the light against her eyelids. He moved the beam away, and she opened her eyes. “I just have to clean up.”

  “So you’re one of those people.”

  She stared at him.

  “Stoic. Don’t let anyone know you’re hurt.” He studied her. “I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. It’s just that—”

  She brushed past him. “Whatever.”

  Unfortunately, her equilibrium wasn’t up to par, and she’d moved too fast. Dakota swayed. Josh caught her. One strong arm slid around her back, the other grasped her under the elbow. Just enough to steady her. Nothing more.

  “Who are you?” The question came out as a whisper, giving away entirely too much. Not just curiosity, but also interest. Because yes, he intrigued her. More than any man had in a long time.

  He’d held his own against more than one man with a gun. Enough to warn the shooters off. To save them both.

  “Just Josh.” He walked with her, but she didn’t know where they were going. “What about you? What’s your name?”

  “Dakota.” She got her balance enough to shift away from him. He got the message and let go. The dog kept pace with them.

  “Just Dakota?”

  She smiled, but couldn’t glance at him right now or she would hurl again. It was for the best. She didn’t need distractions in her life. He was one of her people, and that was good enough. More than that wasn’t even on the table. She didn’t do relationships.

  If he turned out to be lying, then she would either arrest him or shoot him.

  Those were the facts. They’d keep her in good stead and meant she didn’t lose focus on her work. When the job was done she’d go home to her quiet house, a place she loved. Her retreat. The sanctuary she’d never had, but which she’d forged for herself.