“Matthew is our head of security and will be escorting you to the campsite.”
“Security?” I asked, extending my hand along with an easy smile and a feigned laugh. “Do we have something to worry about?”
“Oh, no—”
“We’re heading into BLM lands, Mr. Calder,” the man rasped, not only cutting off Brielle but also completely ignoring her as he took my hand, his grip dominating. “There are lots of dangers in the wilderness—bears, wolves, cougars, bison. Someone has to be prepared.”
And that someone was apparently him.
He drew his hand back and rested it on his hip, revealing a glimpse of his holster inside his jacket. I forcibly stopped myself from raising aneyebrow; the Beretta 9mm would be useless against all the mammals he’d listed. Like an umbrella in the middle of a hurricane, the small-caliber handgun would hardly put a dent in most of the animals that roamed the BLM.A person, on the other hand ...My jaw screwed tighter.
“We need to get going. Dr. Julia is waiting.” His terse tone was followed by an equally abrupt about-face.
“Enjoy your journey!” Brielle called after us, to which Lara returned a thank-you.
Taking the path behind the vehicle, I noted the missing license plate from the back. Bold. There must have been a plate for it somewhere; they wouldn’t risk driving on the road without one, but out here ... the BLM lands were the real Wild West. No one policed them, let alone checked license plates. Then again, if you had nothing to hide, there was no reason to have no plate.
Sketchy strike three.
I opened the passenger door, lifting the seat forward for Lara. We shared a glance as she slid into the back, her pupils more dilated than before.
“You okay?” I asked quietly once she was seated, waiting for her nod before I pushed the seat back and climbed in.
The inside of the vehicle was spartan. Not quite as dirty as the exterior but certainly not luxurious. The center console displayed the incorrect time and was set toCassettemode; whatever year the Jeep was had to have been one of the last when they still put cassette players in the dash.
“Buckle up. The ride out is bumpy,” Matthew ordered and then hit the play button. As he shifted the manual transmission into reverse, a woman’s voice came through the speakers, low and melodious.
“Hello. My name is Dr. Julia Maxwell, and today you are embarking on your journey toward a transcendent relationship, a journey that begins by stripping away the distractions and expectations of the world we live in and finding the wilderness within ...”
Chapter 10
Calder
Rule #31: Learn to see what doesn’t belong. The human presence creates patterns that disrupt the natural world.
A few years ago, we’d been hired to find an Idaho woman who’d gone missing while on vacation in Florida. Creed had taken the drive down to Miami, while I’d been tasked with looking into the time-share company that owned the condo she rented. Despite growing up on the ranch with Cassius’s repeated endurance trials, I’d been surprised to find how ill prepared I was to withstand the desperate determination of a time-share sales pitch. The ninety minutes was nothing short of indoctrination rather than information.
And that was exactly what I was reminded of while listening to Maxwell’s introduction to the retreat: thirty minutes of carefully crafted indoctrination for a decision we couldn’t get out of. At least, not easily.
Pretending to be engrossed in her slow, soothing proselytization, I monitored the direction and distance from the parking lot. We headed east for about five miles and then, maneuvering through a stretch of trees, turned a little northwest, following preworn tire tracks through the mud I presumed the Jeep had made over the last several days.
When we finally stopped, it was in a pocket of dense forest that couldn’t have been more than seven or eight miles from the mainroad—a relatively short distance, considering all the doctor’s emphasis on wilderness immersion. Then again, in Wyoming, you didn’t have to go very far into untouched land to feel light-years away from civilization.
Matthew parked and turned off the engine just as Maxwell’s introduction ended. “We’re here,” our impassive guide announced and exited the Jeep, seemingly expecting me and Lara to follow.
I pulled the passenger seat forward and froze. Lara’s skin was flushed, from her cheeks to her chest, her pupils the sharpest of points. Wisps of her hair had worked their way out of the tie holding them back.
“You okay?” I held out my hand.
She nodded, but as she clutched my hand and stepped out of the Jeep, she murmured, low enough for only me to hear, “There was something in the smoothie.” Anger shot through me, and she felt it. “I’m fine.” She gave my fingers a hard squeeze as if to order,Don’t say anything.
Say anything?The anger I felt was lethal, not conversational.Drugging the people who came here?I tried to bury the emotion, knowing it wouldn’t serve me, but I couldn’t. The way I ... thought ... about her wouldn’t let me.
“Calder,” she pleaded softly, but my feet stayed rooted—fossilized to the ground.I should stop this now.It didn’t matter whose plan this was. When she was with me, she was my responsibility.Mine.
She tugged on my hand, and against my better judgment, I moved. I went with her.I made another exception to my rules.
“This way,” Matthew said, not bothering to wait before leading us through the trees.
