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“Then why the crime?”
“Beats me. Excitement? A big snub to authority?”
She traced a crack in the wood handrail with her fingertip. “I wonder if it was the same for that gang of Quileute who was involved in drugs.”
“Could be, not that I’m discounting money as a motivator for most criminals. It just never motivated Dax.”
“So, the Quileute gang manufactured or procured drugs and sold them to the Lords of Chaos who turned around and sold them on the streets.”
“Or distributed them elsewhere.”
“And somehow the drugs and money are tied to the kidnapping of three young children. How?” She picked at a piece of chipped paint.
“Trafficking maybe.”
She clenched her teeth against the chill racing up her spine. “That’s horrible.”
“Sometimes the world is a horrible place.” He covered her fidgeting hand with his own and his warmth seeped into her flesh. “Are you okay to go home by yourself?”
She flung out her other arm. “It’s daytime. I’ll be fine.”
“I never did get the chance to install your new locks.”
“Not that those locks would’ve protected me against the fire last night, and since the firefighters just left my place unsecured, the locks wouldn’t have prevented the break-in, either.”
“True, but that’s no reason to ignore basic security measures. That was an extraordinary event last night.”
“Funny thing about those extraordinary events.”
“What?”
“They seem to be happening to me on an ordinary basis.”
“Ever since the Timberline Trio case was unearthed.”
“Pretty much.” She disentangled her hand from his and pulled herself up by grasping the porch’s handrail. “My cousin Annie is coming by to help me clean up this afternoon, so I won’t be alone. I’m going to have a look for those childhood mementos.”
“Looking for a pink ribbon?” He stood on the step above her, towering over her even more than usual.
“Yep.”
“Be careful, Scarlett.” He smoothed a hand down her arm. “Don’t tell anyone about it.”
“I’m not going to run around town blabbing it. I’m convinced there’s not one person in Timberline who can keep a secret.”
“Not even the sheriff’s department.”
She leaned back to look into his face. “Why do you say that?”
“How else did that story of the pink ribbon get out? If the kidnapper took something from one of the children, you’d think the police and the FBI would want to keep that quiet.”
“It’s the Quileute. We hear things. I’m pretty sure that info wasn’t available to the other citizens of Timberline.”
He bent forward and touched his forehead to hers. “Just be careful. We don’t know who’s watching and listening.”
Her fingers dabbled against his jaw, and she felt his warm breath caress her cheek.
Then he wedged a finger beneath her chin and, tilting her head back, brushed his lips against hers.
The roar of a motorcycle engine broke them apart, and Scarlett glanced over her shoulder at Dax, his long hair blowing behind him.
“What are you going to tell your brother about the tires?”
“I can’t hide that the tires were slashed, but he doesn’t have to know anything about what we discussed with your grandmother.”
Dax parked his bike next to Jim’s and circled the damaged motorcycle. Then he pulled off his helmet and shoved his sunglasses to the top of his head as he trudged to the porch.
“What the hell happened?”
“Someone took a knife or a box cutter to my tires at the reservation.”
Whistling through his teeth, Dax shook his head. “Old resentments die hard, don’t they?”
“Could’ve been teenagers.” Jim shrugged his broad shoulders. “Reminded me of something you’d do.”
“Guess so. How’d you get back here?”
Scarlett waved her hand in the direction of the road. “My cousin gave us a ride in his truck.”
Jim descended the porch steps and buried his hands in his pockets. “I’m selling him one of Slick’s bikes.”
