“Jenny. Stop being a bitch. He was busy, so that made him grumpy. Look what he’s brought to this town.”

  “Which is why I have a tough time thinking he’d sell it, Lois,” Peggy countered.

  “He’s not selling,” another piped in. “He’s giving it to his three boys.”

  Peggy snorted. “I didn’t even know he had kids, Camilla. I never saw a picture.”

  “And they never came around,” Camilla said.

  I turned my head toward the back wall. This wasn’t the kind of news I was looking for.

  “So why give his children the place to run?” Lois was quite disturbed at the news.

  “Something must be wrong with the man. How sad.”

  It was tough not to laugh hearing Jenny’s fake concern.

  “Has anyone confirmed this?” Peggy threw out. She’d always been a voice of reason.

  “They’re here. All three of them.” My God, Camilla was squealing like she was a teenager, not a woman in her late fifties.

  Suddenly, the coffee tasted bitter.

  “And all three aren’t little boys. Oh, no. They are hot. Hot, baby. I’m telling you. I could do any one of them at any time. Maybe all three together.”

  Now I was going to vomit in my mouth. No wonder I didn’t have friends.

  “You’re kidding,” Peggy prompted, but the woman was just as much into the hotness factor as the other three.

  “Nope. I ran into one at the hardware store. All I can say is hubba hubba.”

  Oh, Camilla was going to burn in hell. Not that I’d want to spend the rest of my life with Frank, a man self-described as a permanent couch potato, but a commitment was a commitment.

  Like I would have any idea.

  Without waiting for the check, I pulled out money for the bill plus a hefty tip. Maybe Poppy might need it for whatever upcoming adventure she might be considering.

  “Come on, baby girl. Let’s get to work.” The sun was bright, the air crisp and Halloween decorations were everywhere. The tourists loved the spookiness.

  I headed toward my Jeep, realizing I needed to replace my supply of batteries. I never allowed myself to be without what I considered requirements.

  The hardware store was within walking distance, which would prevent me from having to double back to the five and dime.

  I crossed the street, jogging to avoid traffic. The store was as old-fashioned as so many others on the few other streets encompassing the downtown area. On purpose of course, many of the shops finding no reason to renovate when the resort had suddenly flourished.

  The hardware store was one of my favorites, somehow similar to one that I’d gone into as a child. Kids adored the place because they had a huge selection of candy and toys while everyone from men working construction to ladies needing a simple screwdriver could find what they needed easily.

  While I had a leash in my pocket, Pepper didn’t need one. I was still constantly amazed at the number of people, including tourists, who stopped and wanted to meet and pet her. It was so different than being in Charlotte where everyone seemed afraid of her.

  My pup was extra friendly, except when she was crossed. Her notoriety in town was something I’d been forced to get used to. At least I could tell she adored the attention.

  “Come on, girl. Let’s get our day officially started.” She snuffled as she nuzzled against my leg while we walked inside.

  The store was my go-to location to replenish my work bag. I was determined to keep the supplies fresh at all times. My instinct was telling me I’d need them. As I walked in, the smell of freshly cut wood, mulch, and vanilla from the display of candles the owner had placed in front of the store along with the cutesy mailbox flags hit me all at once.

  I might consider myself a big city girl, but I had to admit there was nothing like a good old-fashioned store that had been around since the early nineteen hundreds. It had character and charm, something the big box stores would never achieve. Plus, there were some interesting old coots working here as well. They could tell stories for days.

  By this point, I knew every inch of the place. I’d been here more than once on an early morning when I hadn’t been able to sleep. Right now, I just wanted to get in and out. There was work to do. I would go see the coroner first thing. After that, I would be on alert since a huge tourist bus had rolled in the night before.

  A few things caught my eye as I moved from aisle to aisle, including a gnome statue. Sadly, I wasn’t a frilly kind of girl on any level. I wasn’t into pillows and curtains, little sayings on my wall, or pink flamingos to place in my yard. Not me. I was a minimalistic girl. Except for my comforter and pillows, which I’d spent a fortune on.

  “Finding everything you need, Miss Park Ranger?” The man’s gruff aging voice always brought a smile to my face. Roger had called me that since the day I’d seemed helpless coming in for the first time. He knew my name, but preferred teasing me. In turn, I called him Ranger Roger. There was no telling how long he’d been a part of the operation.

  I gave him a sly look and grinned. “No need, Ranger Roger. I am good as gold.”

  He adored when I flirted with him, the guy living alone since his wife of sixty years had died only months before. Sixty years. I would be lucky if I didn’t kill every man I spent more than a week with.

  “You are good as gold.” He walked closer, acting as if what he was about to tell me was a secret. “Look at this very special girl.” He bent over, rubbing both sides of Pepper’s head. Normally, my pup didn’t like her ears fucked with, but she’d made an exception for Roger.

  Woof.

  “I hear what you are saying and I might have a treat.” As Roger pulled a treat that looked exactly like a piece of bacon from the pocket of his work apron, I shook my head. “You’re going to fatten her up.”

  “She’s retired. She deserves to live a little.” The man obviously had had a pet before. The first time he’d offered Pepper a treat, he had his hand wrapped around it protecting his fingers.

  Pepper was so cute about taking anything given to her. She knew to look to me for approval. I’d almost lost her after an insurgent had poisoned her. We’d both learned a valuable lesson. Roger was happy he’d gotten to see her, basking in the moment and I let him.

  “Any thoughts on the murder?” he asked.

  Well, shit. It had taken less than twelve hours to make the rounds. That meant my asshole of an associate, Cane, had spilled the beans. I was fed up with his bullshit and ignoring policy. He and I would eventually come to blows. I simply wagged my finger and tried to be cute. That was a stretch.

  “You know better than to allow rumors to flow in this town, Roger. They’ll come back to bite you. And not everything is what you think it might be.”

  He shrugged, his eyes twinkling, which meant he didn’t believe me. “Whatever you say. Maybe I should start calling you Danger Ranger.”

  “You are so bad.” I laughed but was fuming inside. How dare that little prick ignore my command? Plus, there were regulations for a whole lot of reasons including avoiding mass hysteria.

  Huffing, I turned around quickly, my eye catching one nifty-looking twisted rope. It appeared like a real hiker’s rope, one used for mountain climbing. It was rare around these parts, what few they received scooped up in a heartbeat. Without a second thought, I lunged for it. The second I collided into a hard body, I snarled instead of whimpering like some girl.

  I dropped my basket, fell on my ass on top of it, and was prepared to eat a bear because of the flash of pain in my leg. Who the hell was bulldozing their way down the aisle?

  My dog didn’t bark. Didn’t come to my aid. She simply sat on her haunches looking up and up.

  And up…

  A tremendous shadow covered the entire front of me and as I slowly lifted my head, my first instinct was to frown. The mystery man was standing in front of me in all his glory. I wanted to be angry, but damn it. He was hotter in the bright lights and streaming sunlight of the store than in the ugly dim lighting of the bar or motel.

  He was also here. In my world. Why?

  Boy, was the man built. There were no adjectives that suited his massive, sculpted body. Other than perfection. But as he’d done the night I’d met him, he was wearing a scowl that would terrify a sweet old lady.

  The other thing that troubled me was that I couldn’t get my eyes to stay off the huge and very thick bulge between his legs. Of course, it had to be accentuated by the tight and very faded blue jeans he was wearing. And who looked that damn good in a Henley shirt? Why wasn’t he wearing flannel like all good mountain men? My filthy mind tried to take over. Oh, hell, no.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” My natural personality took over, easily fueled by embarrassment and my anger toward Cane. Knowledge didn’t stop me.

  “You ran into me.” His voice was just as gruff but also just as sexy. He eyed Pepper and briefly acted as if he was going to smile.

  Nope.

  My heart was thudding like the pattering of a teenage girl experiencing puppy love for the first time. Not good.

  I was still on the floor, a small crowd including Roger hovering close by. I noticed none of them were trying to help me off the floor. Nope. The women were gawking with open mouths at the huge giant. At least Roger had a knowing grin on his face. I could swear the sweet guy knew I’d had a filthy carnal fling with Mr. Know-It-All.

  “You are such a grumpy bully.” When I struggled to get off the floor myself, I realized my left calf hurt like shit from hitting something on the way down. The ache prevented me from hopping up like I normally would, which prompted Mr. Hero to make the determination I needed help.

  He was so strong that when he pulled me into his arms, he flung me straight into his massive body.

  Whew. Was it getting hot in here?

  We were locked in a frozen moment and I had a bad feeling the sinful experience was being captured by some other know-it-all. I was gripping his massive forearms, my instinct to knead his muscles blasphemous.

  And I’d be damned if he didn’t catch what I was doing, dropping his head toward the action like a moth to a flame. His arrogance prompted me to dig my nails into his skin.

  “You can let me go. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” Now I glared at Pepper who was wagging her tail and looking lovingly up at the big jerk.

  “Evidence to the contrary,” he grumbled.

  Now the man who spoke very little was a comedian? My other natural instinct kicked in and I jerked away. It seemed he thought I was going to slap his chiseled, fur-covered face. He grabbed my outstretched hand, cocking his head and giving me a stern look.

  I hadn’t planned on giving the man a single moment of satisfaction. If and when I needed to hit a man, which was usually some asshole perp, he’d be out cold on the pavement. Not that I could manage to budge this guy.

  His eyes were so amazing and hypnotizing that for a few seconds, I thought I was going to get lost in them. “What were you doing?”

  “You were trying to take my rope,” I said. What a stupid thing to say.

  “Last time I checked, you hadn’t paid for it yet. Fair game.”

  What the hell did he need with a hiker’s rope? He sure didn’t look like a mountain climber to me. “Nope. I need it for work.”

  “Tying men to a tree?”

  “Very funny. Let me guess what you do for a living. You cut up victims for really bad men.”

  “The trouble with that scenario is that I’m the really bad man. Be careful, little girl. I do bite.”

  He wasn’t in the mood for further bantering, grabbing the very rope I’d attempted to snag and walking off. Normally, I would have chased after him, demanding he give it up, but I was stymied. That was the strangest feeling of all. I was never speechless no matter the circumstances.

  “Wow,” I heard a couple of women whisper.

  Wow indeed. I had an enemy that I’d fucked. And he was here in town.

  Awesome.

  I slowly turned my head, watching him taking long yet slow strides down the aisle and sighed. A bad man, huh? Well, he’d come to the wrong town. Little did he know I ate them for breakfast.

  With joy.

  CHAPTER 8

  Shephard

  Beautiful.

  Sinful.

  Infuriating.

  I could think of other words to describe the feisty chick who’d all but accosted me in the hardware store. However, I’d enjoyed our encounter a little too much. That’s one reason I hated being out in public, but it was necessary. While I was here enduring what I called my prison term, at least I could enjoy some of what the tiny town had to offer.

  Or I could hogtie assholes who pissed me off. The jury was still out.

  With her, I wouldn’t mind tying her to my bed. My balls tightened from the thought.

  Enough of craving something I couldn’t have. It was time to face the music, as my father would say.

  I parked the truck in the employee parking area of the resort, which was designated nicely. I’d driven around the entire resort, more impressed with the setting and the condition of the buildings than I’d thought I’d be.

  While I understood from my mother, who’d called twice, that my brothers were also back in town, I’d yet to catch sight of them. I had no idea of their itinerary and that was fine by me. Today was about getting a lay of the land and nothing more.

  Tomorrow would need to be business as usual.

  Whatever the fuck that meant.

  There were at least a dozen good qualities about the Foxhead Winery and Resort, the winery considered a star player given its success, but the most impressing to me was the setting.

  And the view.

  The resort was perched on a lower part of one of the mountain ranges, the view of the valley below spectacular. There was a very active river that ran through one of the hiking areas, picnic tables and pavilions in perfect positions. There was even a trellis and gazebo with a nearly perfect lawn, which I was certain was used for weddings. With the two ballrooms and the chefs hired to provide incredible food, the resort could be considered a destination point.

  There was also a stunning lake on the property, at least according to the plans. Between the rough river and the lake, summer tourists could be equally thrilled as were those coming here to ski and enjoy the four huge hot tubs in the winter months.

  The brochure was vivid in color, the photographer having done an amazing job. It had to have cost a significant amount of money. At least the financials reflected the money spent on marketing.

  Yet something nagged at me. An underlying feeling my father was hiding something. There was no outward reason for my thoughts, but I’d had them since I was a teenager.

  Our world in Montana had been a cautious one, something most people wouldn’t have noticed. I’d always had a feeling we weren’t who I was told we were.

  Maybe I was nuts, but the nagging had increased after agreeing to this charade.

  While I had a feeling the cat was out of the bag regarding my father’s decision, today I would do nothing but walk around the entire interior. I didn’t write notes. I didn’t need to. I had a photographic memory.

  If I was asked questions, I wasn’t certain how I’d handle it.

  After climbing out, I took a deep breath. Today wasn’t a great day, but there was nothing I could do.

  As I headed for the main entrance, it was impossible not to notice the huge volume of vehicles in the parking lot. I was curious as to the number of paying guests as opposed to those here for a day of kayaking and swimming, hiking and mountain climbing. My guess was the guests could be unruly.

  Not something I was good at handling. I was a rough man all the way around.

  As I walked in, I was struck by the good feeling the atmosphere provided. Maybe I didn’t know what I was talking about, but the cathedral ceiling and expansive windows allowed for extensive lighting, dark foliage and comfortable-looking furniture providing a welcoming atmosphere.

  My father had some clue of what he was doing in running the resort. Or he’d paid an expert to provide him with ideas.

  Either way, at least I didn’t feel as if I was walking into a money losing project.

  As soon as I’d made it close to the reservation desk, my initial stop, reporters came out of nowhere.

  “Mr. Fox. Can I ask you a few questions?”

  “Mr. Fox. Why did your father really give up the resort?”

  Fuck. The questions were coming from all directions.

  Over the years anonymity was something I’d considered a weapon. I’d all but disappeared when I’d become a mercenary, my past protected by the organization who’d hired me. Even my fingerprints and social security number were considered classified. They still were even after leaving the group.

  The cloak of darkness had kept me alive more than once.

  It was the last question that pulled me into a violent moment. Maybe I’d regret it later.

  Maybe I wouldn’t.

  “Mr. Fox. Isn’t it true there are some repulsive criminals looking to hunt down your father, a man who used to work with them?” He’d kept his voice down, as if offering me the grace of asking me the question prior to announcing it to the world.

  “What did you say?”

  “Is your father in hiding?”

  I turned slightly, narrowing my eyes. What the fuck was the guy getting at?

  As several reporters advanced like vultures, sticking microphones in my face as they called out not only questions but my legal name, I reacted.

  Or some would say I overreacted.

  The poor, dumb asshole who was the most aggressive was the recipient of my initial fury and aggression.

  I punched him in the face.

  Denise

  Dead bodies had never fazed me in the least. I’d seen more than I could remember.

  But there was something extremely morbid about being inside a morgue. Typically, a movie or television show depicted certain locations, including squad rooms of police departments, as dull and dingy places where no one would want to work.

  It was true, at least about the older building housing the morgue and three different offices in this case. However, on the floor above was a nature sanctuary, which struck me in a strange way.