They had no idea who the killer was.

  Chapter 7

  Dakota sipped water, trying to keep her lunch down. She needed to push away the nagging ache that made her head thump. The smell of dog breath on her cheek wasn’t helping. Why did she always get the slice of pie? She really should’ve stopped after the sandwich, but diner pie was the best. Plus, she was a sucker for whipped cream.

  Josh sat in the driver’s seat, the engine off. She was beside him. They were across the parking lot, watching the entrance to a fitness center.

  The front door swung open and a group of three teen boys strode out. Shorts and tennis shoes, hoodies. Red cheeks and sweat.

  “Him?” She glanced at Josh to see what his answer would be.

  She waited while he studied the three. Once they’d discovered the name of the truck’s owner, it hadn’t taken long to discover he had a teenage brother—with his own driver’s license. The vehicle used to dump Maggie’s body?

  Salvarez and O’Caran were getting a warrant to pull Terrence Crampton in for questioning concerning Maggie’s death and the attempted murder of two federal agents. Dakota and Josh’s job was to find the teen.

  His brow crinkled. “I think so.”

  “That won’t hold up in court.”

  “Okay then, that’s the person whose image is on Austin Crampton’s driver’s license. And that’s his pickup.” Josh glanced aside at her. “Will that hold up in court?”

  He knew the answer. He could read it on her face. Dakota said, “He’s pulling out.”

  Josh turned on the engine of Dakota’s rental and followed Austin out of the lot. Neema’s tags jingled as she shifted to put her nose to the cracked back window. Josh said, “Think he’s going home?”

  She studied the back of Austin’s rusted pickup. “Guess we’ll find out.”

  He pulled onto the highway and headed out of town. Was home the compound? She didn’t want him to get there and hunker down behind locked gates. They’d lose their lead.

  Dakota bit her lip, then reached in the backseat ignoring how much twisting hurt and got what she needed out of her duffel of supplies.

  She flipped the switch on the bottom and set the flashing blue and red light on the dash. Right where Mr. Austin Crampton would see it. And then pull over.

  “You carry one of those with you?”

  She shrugged. “Comes in handy sometimes. Like now.” She motioned out the front window, where Austin’s brake lights had come on. He slowed and pulled over.

  Dakota sent a quick text to Talia so their NSA computer specialist could mark their location and an update of what they were doing. Maybe she already knew, but it was procedure.

  They both climbed out.

  Josh met her at the hood of her rental. “You want to take the lead on this?”

  She nodded. He’d probably never pulled anyone over before. Dakota wandered to the driver’s door and rapped on the window, one hand on the butt of her holstered weapon. “Get out of the car, please.”

  The door cracked. Austin Crampton didn’t look nervous and neither did he look belligerent in the face of authority.

  She shifted to flash the badge clipped to her belt. Just to see his reaction. “Special Agent Pierce, Homeland Security. Get out of the car, please.”

  When he straightened to stand, she backed up a step and said, “This is Special Agent Weber, DEA.”

  Josh nodded.

  The kid looked curious. Cautious. Like he’d been taught to stay calm, find out what the law wanted before he said or did anything.

  Dakota had been taught the same thing.

  “Was I speeding?”

  “This isn’t about that.” Dakota shifted her stance. “This is about last night. A dead woman and an apple orchard.”

  “Sounds like a bad movie.” And the kid didn’t think it was a comedy.

  “Maybe, but right now my colleagues are out getting an arrest warrant. We’re going to bring in the person who dumped Maggie Detweiler in that orchard.”

  Austin’s nose flared.

  “Maybe find out what else has been going on at the orchard, under the noses of hardworking people.”

  That got her a lip curl.

  “Don’t think much of people who pay their taxes?”

  Austin said, “No, I don’t think much of them.”

  He was good. Or he’d been trained well, at least. Taught not to give away anything, to use her own words to formulate his answer. She said, “Sheep, right? That’s what y’all call them. Mindless animals working day in and day out, for pittance. It’s like you’ve woken up. Seen the light, or whatever.” She watched him for a reaction. “You’re the only free ones.”

  He shrugged, but didn’t disagree with her.

  He’d been told that. But did he believe it? Was Austin Crampton looking for a way out, a normal life?

  “So y’all live off the land. Screw the government, right?” She shifted closer to him. Nose to nose, but he’d have no way of getting to her gun before she could stop him. Being disarmed was the kiss of death for a federal agent’s career.

  Dakota said, “Well, guess what. You’re a citizen, and that means you’re subject to the same laws. You didn’t kill that girl? Great. But you dumped the body in that orchard.”

  His eyes flickered.

  “No matter what you think is going to happen right now, there’s one thing you gotta consider. You don’t know me, Austin Crampton. You don’t know the world of hurt I can bring on you. You wanna breathe free anytime in the next thirty years, that’s up to you. You want to rot in jail for her murder? We can make that happen, too.”

  “So I talk?” He folded his arms. “I’m not gonna do that.”

  “They taught you well, I’ll give them that. But even they can’t keep you from going down for this. Not with all the evidence I’m going to bring against you.”

  “I’ll get a lawyer.”

  “You think they’re going to foot the bill? Where’s the money gonna come from? I’ll make sure you end up with the most useless public defender in the state of Washington.” She let her lips curl up at the corners. “You’ll have no chance.”

  “I didn’t kill her.”

  “Maybe. But I can still prove you were there. You touched her, right? Not so much of a stretch between that and you being the one who strangled her.” Dakota shrugged and glanced away. “Won’t be that hard.”

  “No—” He stopped. Cut himself off.

  Enough restraint that it impressed her.

  She glanced around, like she didn’t care one way or the other what happened to Austin.

  Josh’s face was hard. Dakota didn’t have time to explain what she was doing. Not if it was only to make him feel better. She just hoped he didn’t butt in on the conversation and try to soothe the kid.

  Austin let out a frustrated sound. “I don’t wanna go to jail.”

  That was the most honest thing he’d said so far. “Tell me who killed her.”

  He pressed his lips into a thin line. “I’m done talking.” The teen shifted, so she had to step back, and he went to his door. “You wanna arrest me? Do it.”

  Or what? Dakota wondered if he had a loaded weapon in that truck. Probably. She didn’t figure it would take much for him to pull it out and use it.

  Austin climbed in and gunned his engine. The back wheels fought for traction and it fishtailed for a second before it caught, and he sped off down the highway.

  “You want to burn that kid just to get a result on this case?”

  He said that like it was a bad thing.

  Josh spoke again. “He didn’t kill Maggie. He knows who did, and you’re going to make him shut down if you push too hard.”

  Dakota walked to the passenger door, wishing she felt okay enough to drive. “It’s called ‘food for thought.’ So when I hit him up again, he’s more amenable to the suggestion of talking to me versus jail time.”

  “Because you’re the resident expert on teens?”

  As if Dakota was going to explain her resume to him. “Kids like that? Yes, I am.”

  . . .

  Josh leaned across the restaurant table. “Is she always like this?”

  Dakota was in the restroom, so he wanted this conversation done before she got back. That meant either Alvarez, or O’Caran, needed to talk fast.

  “Yes.” Alvarez sipped his drink.

  O’Caran said nothing.

  Josh glanced between them. “That’s it?”

  O’Caran picked up where his partner had left off. “If you want to know Dakota, maybe you should ask her.”

  Josh sat back in his seat. The two of them were on the opposite side of the booth. Dakota hadn’t protested much over the fact she’d been sat beside Josh. Alvarez had just given her a look, and she’d sat down. Josh figured her head hurt too much to argue.

  “Fine,” Josh said. Dakota had been hard with that kid. Threatening to lock him up. Josh would probably have taken a more “youth pastor” approach. Try to befriend the teen. Then, when the rapport was established, he’d bring in the truth. She’d gone in fast and smacked him with a reality he hadn’t wanted to face.

  Who would want to acknowledge the fact that they were facing jail time? Especially when it was only a threat. All because Josh didn’t want his name in the report. There was no way he could get away with testifying as an unnamed witness just because he hadn’t wanted to get in trouble on Monday.

  Ugh. This whole thing was becoming a tangled mess.

  The kid seemed to have known what his rights were. Enough he’d walked away when he was done talking. Dakota had pushed Austin to talk. Now she had to follow up with another conversation to see if the “food for thought” she’d given him to chew on had accomplished anything.

  He’d have offered to buy the kid a milkshake, or something.

  “We typically work different angles of a case alone and then collaborate when necessary. Or if we need backup,” Alvarez said. “She’s used to taking care of stuff like this on her own terms.”

  “Doesn’t that just breed a culture where no one relies on anyone else and everyone does their own thing?” Josh shrugged. “Doesn’t sound like you’d end up with an effective team that way.”

  “We’re a team that solves cases,” O’Caran said. “We put together pieces that no one else does. We know our strengths. And we’ll hand things off to each other when someone else is better qualified to follow the lead.” He paused. “Does that sound unhealthy to you?”

  Maybe not. “So Dakota is the most qualified to follow up with a teen?”

  Alvarez shrugged.

  “This teen, yes.” Dakota stood beside the table. “Scoot over.”

  Josh did so, and she settled beside him on the bench seat at the booth. Their steaks were delivered, his with the extra mushrooms and onions on top. They were quiet while they ate, and then he asked, “Anything interesting on Terrence?”

  Near as they could figure, the third man had been a friend of Terrence’s.

  Alvarez shrugged one shoulder. “Drove by his house. The truck was out of sight, but we hung out long enough we saw a guy leave. Followed him to the compound and took a look around as best we could without being spotted.”

  Josh said, “There really is a compound?”

  “And they’re all linked to it.” Alvarez glanced at Dakota, a look Josh couldn’t read. “Bunch of militia guys holed up there doing who knows what.”

  Dakota said, “And that’s who taught our teenage boy what to say when he’s pulled over by two federal agents. Our retaliation for them blowing up Josh’s car.”

  A dark feeling settled in his stomach. “That was just payback?”

  “No. But it’s what they’re going to think.”

  “And you really think he was coached?” Josh wasn’t sure how she could know that. Unless she’d seen it before.

  “No doubt. He knew what to say, what not to do. And that he could leave at any time.”

  Josh stuck a chunk of steak in his mouth, giving himself time to think while he chewed. If the kid was a part of what went on at the compound, then it meant he’d been taken under someone’s wing. Was Terrence part of some kind of backwoods group who hated the government—one that involved younger siblings?

  And what did that have to do with the chatter Dakota had been following up with?

  His last thought had to be said aloud. “So how does Maggie’s murder tie in to all this?”

  O’Caran shrugged one shoulder. “Heard something she shouldn’t have. Or stuck her nose in something she wasn’t supposed to know.”

  That made sense. “She got too close.”

  Dakota said, “Which means there’s something to get close to. Otherwise they’re risking way too much attention. No one was supposed to find that body. At least not this soon.”

  She tapped her foot under the table, then shifted her leg beside his. “The owners at the orchard know who they are. I think they look the other way, maybe for the money. Maybe so they aren’t threatened.”

  “So the militia people need the orchard.”

  “Or their facilities. They could be putting supplies in the apple transports.”

  Josh let that all percolate. Maggie’s death had spiraled into them investigating the activities of a group of people who could be up to any number of nefarious things.

  “What about that dog of yours?” Alvarez said. “Think she can sniff out what they’re transporting?”

  “She can’t tell you what it is she smelled.” Neema could sniff out a handful of explosives made from specific components. Her skill set was extremely specific. It wouldn’t help them here unless that was exactly what was being moved through the orchard.

  “Might be enough for a warrant.”

  Josh pressed his lips into a thin line. It didn’t work that way, and he could see Alvarez and the others knew that. “What about surveillance?”

  “That could take weeks,” Alvarez said. “And I doubt we’d get much, considering the armed sentries they have. We’ll be spotted.”

  “What about getting a bug inside?” Maybe if Dakota really did get the teen talking, she could persuade him to plant something in one of the buildings.

  “There’s a residence and a barn. A building that looks like a Quonset hut, probably barracks or supplies.” Alvarez paused. “We’d have to know where the sensitive conversations take place, and get something planted in there. And that’s assuming they don’t regularly check for bugs.”

  “Sleep on it.” Dakota glanced at all of them. “Over breakfast we can talk again, see if anyone has had any ideas.”

  Josh nodded. Alvarez finished his steak. O’Caran had his phone out, typing.

  They headed back to the hotel, and he let Neema out to pee and wandered around close by her. A shower would be good, along with about twelve hours of sleep. Josh prayed they’d come up with something before breakfast. A way to figure this out. Get a break in the case.

  He had to leave in twenty-four hours, and that was pushing it for him to get to work on Monday morning. Whichever way he figured it, he was going to be exhausted.

  Nose to the ground, Neema circled a tree and headed for the dumpster. Josh wandered after her, not looking forward to what she was going to find.

  A truck pulled into the lot. He heard the engine and his instincts tweaked like they’d been doing every time a truck showed up lately. He forced himself to not pay much attention. Neema could easily find something that might injure her.

  He was around the side of the motel when the first thud sounded. Josh gave the dog the command to come, and then heel. He circled the front corner of the building and saw two men carrying Dakota. Her body was limp, her head hanging down between them.

  “Hey!”

  Shouting was a reflex. He had no weapon.

  But they did. One man swung around. He dropped Dakota’s leg as he brought his arm up. She lifted her head.

  He saw a glimpse of her face.

  Then the muzzle flash was gone before Josh realized what it was. Fire hit his shoulder, and he fell to the ground. Rolled with the momentum and almost blacked out at the pain. His body stopped and he blinked up at the stars.

  Neema whined. Licked his face.

  Someone shouted.

  Tires squealed. He managed to shift far enough to see the truck peel out of the parking lot.

  Dakota was gone.

  Chapter 8

  US Marshal Salvador Alvarez heard the gunshot as he emerged from the bathroom in his room. The roar of a truck engine followed.

  He swiped his gun off the bedside table and flung the door open. Weber was flat on his back in the middle of the parking lot. That dog of his stood over him, barking at the fleeing truck.

  Niall barreled out of his own room, gun raised. Sal moved past him and down the stairs, fighting the growing ache in his bones. Forty years hunting was catching up with him.

  Sal went over to him. Josh started to sit up, pushing back the shoulder of his jacket.

  “You got shot?”

  Josh gritted his teeth. The kid was tough. He didn’t even look fazed. “I think it went through my shoulder.”

  Sal knelt on the asphalt and checked Weber’s back. The wound was high up on the man’s torso, above his collar bone. Not much more than a scratch between his neck and shoulder.

  “A graze.” Sal replaced the jacket over the man’s shoulder. “You’re lucky, it missed everything important.” Like his giant head…and ears.

  He didn’t want to dislike the kid, but—okay, yes. He wanted to dislike the kid. Dakota wasn’t part of Sal’s personal life, but that didn’t mean he liked the idea that someone else might be.

  He’d seen Weber look at her when she wasn’t looking. Just like he’d seen her look at him.

  The dog bounded back over to them and barked at Sal.

  He stared it down. “Sit.”

  Weber chuckled. “Nice try.” He raised his voice a little and said, “Neema, sietz.”

  Ah. German commands. The dog planted her butt on the asphalt, ears up. Complete one hundred percent focus.

  “It was worth a try, at least.”

  She barked at him.

  Weber chuckled again, then groaned.