Undercover Hunter
Chapter 1
In January beneath a leaden sky, special agents Cade Bankston and DeeJay Dawkins rocketed down an empty state highway toward the town of Conard City, Wyoming. They had been summoned to find a serial killer.
Cade had been to Conard City a few times years ago, very briefly, and had found it unremarkable but pleasant. DeeJay had never seen it. Given her background, he wondered how she would react. But then he couldn’t figure out what the hell a woman with her past was doing working as a criminal investigator for the state of Wyoming. As a former military cop for an elite MP unit, she should have had her pick of jobs.
Maybe it was that prickly nature of hers that caused her problems. Certainly they’d had a few near-fights over the past three days, and they’d only just been made partners. If there was something, imagined or real, for DeeJay to object to, then she seemed to find it.
The red car they were driving was kind of sporty for the country, but that was the idea. To look like outsiders rather than insiders. To act as cover for a couple of investigators pretending to be married travel writers.
That “married” was still the biggest bone of contention between them. Not that it had been their decision. Nope. None of this had been their decision, and if they could just wrap their heads around that part, maybe the spats would ease up.
He kept his attention on the road. Snow blanketed the open spaces around them, although it was still a thin blanket. Plenty of brush stuck up through it, and tumbleweeds tossed like agitated prisoners against the barbed wire that had snared them. If there was life out here that was mobile, it had found somewhere to hide. Even the ranch houses were invisible from the road, although occasionally a sign pointed the way or smoke from a woodstove signaled in the distance.
He glanced at his companion. Well, okay, partner. He’d never wanted another female partner again, but that was a subject he wasn’t about to explore again, now or later. He just didn’t like it and didn’t want it, had learned it contained huge pitfalls. Now here he was with a woman stapled to his side for the duration.
She’d have been pretty enough if he hadn’t already discovered she was a prickly pear cactus with enough sharp spines to leave a man in ribbons. Inky black hair, high, wide cheekbones that bespoke some Native American ancestry, a straight nose that was just right for her face and a mouth that, damn it, looked like it was begging for a kiss. Even when it was compressed in disapproval, which it often was as far as he could tell. And that inventory didn’t even get to her figure, a great figure for someone who was in the peak of physical conditioning, which she clearly was. He liked women who were fit.
He clapped his eyes back on the empty road and schooled his thoughts to a safer area. The woman in the passenger seat was off-limits, no caveats, no exceptions. And she was probably still stewing because he was driving.
That had been their first disagreement of the day. Just the opening salvo. The next battle had ensued over the choice of radio station. He liked country music while he was driving. Turned out she liked NPR. Now why would that surprise him? Thing was, when he was driving he preferred to escape into fantasies about losing the woman, the truck and the dog rather than listen to real-world discussions that usually riled him up because he mostly didn’t like the way the world was going these days.
So no radio at all. Some compromise.
Then there had been the disagreement about where to get coffee. Crap, that beat it all to hell. She wanted the expensive place; he’d have been happy with any roadside diner. So he took her to the chain coffee shop and then she’d ordered ordinary coffee. Not a fancy drink, just a gigantic cup of black and strong. Same as him. So why the argument?