Wilderness Pursuit. Michelle Karl
offered a tight smile in thanks as he closed the door. She rolled down her window to verbally thank him and found herself caught in his gaze. Her throat closed up and the words on her tongue dispersed as though blown away by the wind. Had it actually been eighteen years? He looked the same as he did the last time she saw him. Older, of course, but settled into his sharp features. Square jaw, hair the color of Saskatchewan wheat, eyes containing the distinct bluish-green of polished apatite. She blinked, coming to her senses.
“Thanks,” she mumbled, then started the car. A handsome face didn’t equal a strong mind, and their relationship had ended badly almost two decades ago because of it. She had no reason to take a second glance now, not when she had a job to do.
Especially not when her life might be on the line.
* * *
Sam kept a sharp watch on the tree line at each side of the road as he rode Brenik back into town. He wasn’t sure which part of the day felt more unbelievable, the attack in the woods or the fact that Kara Park had popped back into his life again. Fort Mason and the surrounding area wasn’t known for violent crime—in fact, most of the crime in northern British Columbia was drug-related, domestic or break-and-enter incidents, not violent attacks. The few violent attacks they dealt with this far north were usually caused by grizzlies, not humans, and even those were incredibly rare.
He reached the station just as Kara pulled into the small parking lot. She offered a terse nod as she climbed out of the vehicle and strode inside with purpose. He couldn’t help the tiny smile that caught the corner of his mouth. Kara had always known what she wanted out of life and hadn’t been afraid to push for it, even at the expense of those around her—well, that wasn’t entirely true. It had come at the expense of their relationship, yes, but after she’d left the province to attend university in the United States, he’d realized that he should have expected it all along. Kara had never been the type to sit around and wait for life to happen to her. She went out and grabbed it by the reins.
He stabled Brenik behind the station and headed inside after Kara. She stood at the front reception desk, looking mildly confused.
“Small place,” he said, coming alongside her. “The stable out back is nearly as large as this building. There are only five of us at this detachment, and we have a part-timer who comes in for a few hours every day to do reception. Otherwise calls go to me or one of the other guys. It’s a forwarding system, so whichever one of us answers first takes the call, but Aaron has seniority.”
She shook her head slightly, as if she was having trouble processing his words. “Aaron? As in, your brother?”
“Yep. Leo’s here, too. I know, it’s unusual that we’d all be in the same detachment, but we put our names in to be assigned up here, and a series of circumstances made it happen.”
“Plus your father’s connections.”
“I won’t deny that it helped, sure.” He tried to study her face, but it was hard to read. Was that disgust or just exhaustion from the attack? “I assume the foreman is secure? Did the doctors say anything when you dropped him off? Please tell me you had yourself checked out, too.”
She pursed her lips and gently tapped her fingers on the top of the reception desk. “Yes, and I’m fine. Some bad bruising and mild whiplash, but I’ll be okay. As for Mike, they didn’t say much. I gave them the number for Gaida Industries and said you’d probably be stopping by to get a statement from Mike after he’s feeling better, but that’s about it. He was a lot more awake and alert by the time we reached the clinic, so I don’t imagine he’ll be in there long.”
“Good.” Sam rounded the desk and began pulling out the necessary forms to compile a report on what happened in the woods. “Hopefully he got a good look at the guys who came after you. Between the two of you, we might get enough of a description to go on. Please, have a seat.”
Twenty minutes later, Sam filed the paperwork and pushed back in his chair. Kara had been hit from behind and had caught only a blurry glimpse of one of the attackers, so her description was lacking. He needed to get back out there or send one of the other officers to check for clues—footprints, fibers, anything—but not with the wind picking up outside. In the impending rain and darkness, it’d be not only dangerous but impossible to see the terrain.
“Are we done here?” She raised dark, full eyebrows at him. “I need to head to Gaida’s offices and speak with them about what happened before everyone goes home for the day.”
“I need to head there, too.”
“I can go by myself, Sam.”
“I’m sure you can,” he said, resisting the urge to match her gently aggressive tone. Her combative attitude made him want to push back, but that would be petty and uncalled for. The truth was that he really did need to speak to someone in charge of the site. “But this is a police investigation, and that means I need to speak to all parties involved. I’d like to get some perspective on the pipeline site and see if they’ve had any other kind of trouble that hasn’t been reported.”
Her shoulders tensed and she stood, taking several steps away from the desk. Then she stopped and glanced over her shoulder. “Do you need me to drive, or are you taking the horse?”
He couldn’t stifle his laugh. “No, I’ve stabled Brenik for the night. The RCMP doesn’t use horses as often as you might think. I have a patrol car that can drive both of us. You should probably use your car as little as possible until you get the correct tires on there again.”
She didn’t protest as he led the way back out of the station and to his patrol vehicle, though the short drive to the office building where Gaida Industries had rented space was both silent and awkward. She stared out the window as he drove, and he searched for words that would bridge the decades-old gap between them—if only for the sake of the investigation. Beyond that, having as little contact and interaction with Kara as possible sounded as appealing to him as it clearly did to her.
At the office building, Sam kept a watchful eye on their surroundings, but at this point he feared more danger from the skies than he did from any person. Dark, angry clouds approached from the west, bringing nightfall early. He thought he saw a flash of lightning, but the storm was still a way off, making its intensity difficult to gauge. The strength of storms coming this far inland could also shift fairly quickly, so there was no need to batten down the hatches yet.
Kara marched past him into the building and leaned over reception. “I need to speak with the senior partner, Ed Tigh, immediately.” The receptionist, a small, middle-aged woman with dark circles under her eyes, stared up at Kara in confusion. “I don’t have time to wait, there’s a situation—”
Sam reached past her, flashing his badge. “RCMP. We’re here to speak with your boss.”
The woman blinked rapidly, then picked up her phone. Moments later, they were ushered into the office of an elderly, stocky gentleman wearing a gray suit. Ed Tigh stood to shake their hands, and Sam tried not to flinch at the contact. The man’s palm was warm and damp, and Sam couldn’t help but notice that his smile didn’t reach his eyes. Despite the outwardly friendly welcome, Ed’s body language indicated that this interaction was forced and unwelcome. Not that hostility toward law enforcement was something new for Sam—sometimes folks just didn’t like cops, regardless of whether or not they had anything to hide.
“To what do I owe this visit?” Ed sat back in his chair as Kara and Sam took their seats. “Something about a disturbance out at the site, I understand? I received a phone call about a half hour ago to tell me my foreman is at the med clinic recovering from a fight.”
“Not a fight,” Kara said, speaking before Sam could get a word in. “An attack.”
Ed ignored her, looking at Sam instead. “What happened, Officer?”
Something in the man’s tone, the way his gaze slipped right past Kara, rubbed Sam the wrong way. “Ms. Park just told you. There was an attack out at your pipeline site. She can tell you more about what