Harlequin Love Inspired Suspense March 2021--Box Set 2 of 2 by Dana Mentink (good fiction books to read .txt) 📕

The line went dead. No signal.

The sound of a motor approached. No sirens.

She tensed, ready to run, and rounded the hill dotted with sage and patches of snow on the north side.

A tan pickup drove at full speed, dust and rocks spewing from the tires.

She dropped her head. No. Please not him. Anyone but him.

* * *

Henry McKnight pressed his lips together as he took the full impact of the dirt road’s bumps at high-speed. He’d been nearby investigating an illegal trash dump when he’d heard the call for assistance. A rafting guide in danger after witnessing a shooting.

He gripped the wheel tighter, unwilling to reduce his speed as he raced to the location Dispatch had described. Another rafting guide wasn’t going to be murdered on his watch. He felt the burden of the cold case all over again.

A rafting guide and friend, Tommy Sorenson, had been murdered ten years ago. In fact, Tommy’s death had been the very reason Henry had trained to become a law enforcement ranger for the Bureau of Land Management.

A flash of light reflected off the sheen of the raft a young lady carried over her head. His foot slipped off the gas pedal. His ex-fiancée, Nora? He blinked and pressed the gas pedal forward, though not at as high a speed. Her life jacket dangled from the crook in her arm. She walked at a slow pace in purple water shoes.

Had Dispatch been wrong? She didn’t act like a woman in danger. Perhaps he was in the wrong place.

As he grew closer, the strain in Nora’s posture became visible. She didn’t even offer a fake smile, which he’d come to expect on the rare occasion they’d bumped into each other.

He pulled to a stop, careful not to get close enough his truck would spray her with dust. He hopped out, his hand on his weapon. The dispatcher had said the shooter might still be after the guide. “Are you okay?” He knew his question sounded abrupt, and he regretted the tone of his voice the instant her eyes widened. But the thought of someone shooting at her felt like lava in the pit of his stomach.

“Not really,” she said, blinking rapidly. She pulled back her shoulders and nodded resolutely, as if flipping a switch to turn off her emotions. “Don’t worry about me. A man shot one of my guides, Dexter Miller, and you know how long search and rescue can take to deploy—”

“Get in.” Henry took the raft from her and secured it in the back of his pickup, moving as fast as his hands would allow. His fingers shook ever so slightly when he was this agitated, which wasn’t helpful in securing the tie-downs. He took a deep breath, but his eyes kept flashing to the trees. He felt the shortage of law enforcement daily. The entire region had less than a dozen officers, some part-time at that, working for the sheriff’s office. Given that the county was almost twice the size of the state of Rhode Island, both the Bureau of Land Management and the United States Forest Service had active law contracts with the department. They needed all the help they could get.

He joined Nora in the front and put the truck in Drive. “The dispatcher said Sandy Cape was where the shooting happened?” He spun the vehicle around, narrowly avoiding a fallen log. He placed a comforting hand on Nora’s arm out of habit. She glanced down at his hand, her frown deepening. He immediately pulled back. “You’re safe now,” he said stiffly, trying to cover over his faux pas.

He steered back onto the dirt road to the closest highway. Sandy Cape was technically on USFS land. Hopefully, Dispatch had already sent word to the Enforcement Investigations officer, Perry Fletcher. Then again, Perry might be in the middle of nowhere without so much as a satellite signal.

“What’d the shooter look like?” Henry asked Nora.

“I don’t know. His face was covered with a gray camouflage mask.” Nora fingered her pink tube scarf, now bunched at the base of her neck. The scarves, made of lightweight material, were favored by outdoor enthusiasts as they could be worn a myriad of ways. “He wore sunglasses, too. I didn’t get a good look at his face. Black jacket. Medium build, I think.”

He grabbed the radio with a side glance. “Anything else you can tell me?”

“He—” She placed a hand on her forehead and closed her eyes. “I’m sorry. It happened so fast. I can’t stop thinking about Dexter.”

He clicked the radio on and informed the dispatcher that he was taking Nora to The Sauvage Run Rafting Company.

“No, please,” Nora said, a bite to her voice. “If you take me back, it’ll be a good hour before you get to Sandy Cape.”

“You need to get back first.”

She crossed her arms. “Please don’t make assumptions where I’m concerned.”

He fought against a cringe. He knew she was referring to the events leading to their breakup.

“Do you at least have river patrol ready to take you there?” Nora asked.

“No.” He knew but didn’t tell her that they weren’t hiring an intern until later in the year, if they even received a qualified application.

Nora folded her arms over her chest. “You need a river guide. I interned once for your boss. He left the door open for me to take a river patrol position anytime.”

“That was five years ago, Nora, and—”

“If you tell the deputies to meet us at the next creek, I can get you to Sandy Cape fast. The raft is big enough for four of us.” Her eyes softened. “If there’s any chance to save my guide…”

“Deputies, meet me at Petillant Creek,” he said into the radio with a sigh.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

“I still don’t want you involved. If you loan us your raft, I can take it and one of the deputies can take you back to the