He ran a hand over his face and closed his eyes. Because he’d loved her, and because his recommendation as much as her qualifications led to her acceptance into the Academy in the first place, he’d insisted that he be the one to tell her.
It hadn’t gone well.
He would never forget the look of betrayal in Miranda’s deep blue eyes when he told her she was out of the Academy. Was it really ten years ago? Damn, he missed her.
“Shit,” Nick muttered as he slammed on the brakes. Quinn jerked in the passenger seat, opened his eyes.
There were at least thirty Jeeps, trucks, and cars parked along Route 84. Quinn scanned the area. “Miranda finally gained some sense. Her Jeep isn’t here.”
Nick glanced at Quinn as he carefully turned onto the rough logging road. “You think she didn’t just drive in?”
“You said no unauthorized personnel could use the old road,” Quinn said. “I would-”
“Quinn, she is authorized. She’s the director of Search and Rescue, a division of the Sheriff’s Department.” Nick paused. “Miranda doesn’t want to be protected, so give it up.”
“It has nothing to do with protection, and everything to do with jeopardizing this case.”
“Miranda knows these woods better than anyone, including me. I’d be surprised if she didn’t have every hill and crevice memorized. She has a frickin’ map on her bedroom wall! She sleeps and rises to six red pins staring at her, reminding her that she survived.” Nick took a deep breath. “Seven. Seven pins now.”
Quinn glanced at Nick’s hard profile, but couldn’t miss the emotion tightening his expression. He didn’t know whether it was his naked emotions or the rawness in his voice, but Quinn knew with certainty that Nick was still in love with Miranda. He pictured Nick in Miranda’s bedroom staring at the map that had become such a focal point in her life. Nick would be wanting to help Miranda find peace, but unable to tear her away from her nightmares. Quinn shifted uncomfortably.
He’d heard about their relationship from his partner, Colleen Thorne, when she returned from investigating the Croft sisters’ murder. Years after Miranda stopped speaking to him, refused to see him, it still hurt to think about her with another man. Even one he liked and respected.
Damn, he’d loved her! Few women could compare to Miranda. Her intensity, her laugh, her strength, her strong sense of right and wrong. Everything about Miranda was passionate, from how she lived her life to her quest for justice.
That she’d turned to Nick when she was ready for another relationship irritated and hurt him. She’d forced him to give her space, and against his better judgment he did. But she never came back to Quantico, never returned his calls, never accepted that he’d made the only decision possible. Then, she started seeing Nick.
He didn’t want to know about their relationship, but he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “What happened?”
“What?”
“Why’d you two break up?”
Nick shrugged. “Lots of things. Mostly, I couldn’t stand not being able to protect her.”
“Hmm.” Miranda didn’t need protection, except from herself. What she needed was to get over the guilt. But she never recognized her obsession, let alone did anything to fix it.
“I think what did it was I wanted to take her away from Montana,” Nick said. “I could be a cop anywhere. I’d always thought Texas would be a good place to live. A helluva lot warmer than the Gallatin Valley.”
“I can just picture you with a white ten-gallon hat,” Quinn said with a half-smile.
“Miranda wouldn’t leave. She’s determined to do what she can to protect the women of Bozeman. She teaches a self-defense class every week at the University. She heads up the search and rescue-not just when another co-ed turns up missing, but when hikers are lost, skiers disappear in an avalanche, anything. Last year two little girls wandered off from their campsite just this side of the Wyoming border, in Yellowstone. Miranda tracked them, found them, and brought them to safety.”
Quinn said nothing. What could he say? He had no claim to Miranda, no right to know anything about her. But dammit, he wanted to. He wanted to know everything that had happened in her life during the ten years since he’d last seen her.
“Thanks for coming, Quinn,” Nick said several moments later. “I know it’s not easy on you to work with her.”
As Nick stopped the truck behind Miranda’s red Jeep, Quinn said, “I have no problem working with Miranda, but if she crosses the line she has to be pulled.”
“Agreed.”
They got out of the SUV and the first thing Quinn noticed was Miranda standing up on a ledge, hands on her hips.
“Where have you been?” She bounded down the embankment and stood in front of them, jaw set. “You said two hours, it’s been nearly three!”
Though pale and thin, her deep blue eyes rimmed with fatigue, Miranda was a beautiful woman. A bundle of barely contained energy and strength Quinn had always admired.
“We went to interview the boys who found the body,” Nick said.
Quinn wanted to ask Miranda what business it was of hers, but bit his tongue. She was part of the investigation, at least for the time being. Nick had already established her role and Quinn wasn’t going to step on his toes.
Not yet, anyway.
So the sheriff had brought in the Feds again.
It was easy to spot the city boy, all done up in new blue jeans, stiff boots, unused down jacket. All the times the hotshot government types came to town looking for clues, they’d found nothing.
Because he was smarter than all of them.
He recognized Agent Peterson. He’d been around before, a long time ago. He’d proven to be an able opponent then-he’d been so close, but couldn’t see the forest for the trees.
He almost laughed at his pun. Fools. All of them.
Except her. The one who got away.
His entire body tensed and the horse beneath him shifted uneasily on the mountain path, high up from where the cops milled about. He forced himself to relax, patted the gelding gently until the horse calmed. Soothing the animal also helped him contain his anger.
He wanted to kill Miranda Moore so badly he could feel her body beneath his. He pictured himself inches from her face. Grabbing her hair and jerking her head back. Exposing that white throat. Feeling her entire body tremble as he unsheathed his knife and held it to her neck.
One swift slice and her warm blood would coat him and the earth.
But she’d got away. He’d lost. His failure ate at him, a reminder that he was flawed. He should never have gone after a local. It wasn’t her he’d wanted, anyway. It was the blonde she had been with. He didn’t have a choice; if he wanted the blonde, he had to take her friend.
He still wanted to kill her, but he couldn’t.
She’d won, after all.
Twelve years ago his greatest fear of being caught lay with Miranda Moore. Had she seen or heard anything that would lead the police to him? He’d been so careful, but he hadn’t thought she’d live. He’d felt cheated watching her fall off the cliff into the Gallatin River, certain she wouldn’t survive.
He’d been surprised and worried when he saw the news reports the next day that she was alive.
But as time passed, he relaxed. She didn’t know anything, either didn’t remember or never saw him.
No, he couldn’t kill her now. But if she got too close, that would change.
He glanced at his watch and frowned. He hadn’t planned on being here this late. Gently urging the gelding along the narrow mountain path, he headed South.
CHAPTER 6
“Do you all understand what you’re supposed to do?” Nick asked after detailing the responsibilities of the search team. One sworn Gallatin County sheriff’s deputy or Bozeman police officer was paired with one volunteer. Three out of four on-duty cops stood there, some worried, some excited, most sipping the hot coffee Miranda’s father had had the foresight to send with her.