Wolf (Montana Bounty Hunters Book 6) Read online

“You didn’t see who…”

  “No. We set the dog on the shooter’s trail, but we never caught up with him. Don’t even know how far away he was when he took that shot.”

  She exhaled and shook her head.

  “Did you know Tobin?” Wolf asked.

  She startled and shot him a glance. “No. Why do you ask?”

  “Because you seem upset.” When she didn’t answer right away, Wolf settled back in his seat, watching her from the corner of his eye.

  The deputy loosened her grip on the wheel. “I was the officer who arrested him.” She shot him a quick glance.

  Wolf noted the slight frown that dug a line between her finely arched brows. “I can see how you would feel…invested,” he said. A prod to keep her talking, not just because he liked the smoky quality of her voice, but because he wanted to know why Tobin’s death was eating at her.

  Her frown deepened. “The arrest… It was odd. The call came in—a fire at an abandoned building. I was close, so I responded, and I was the first on the scene…”

  Chapter 2

  Wolf shifted in his seat, angling his body so he could watch her while she spoke. As he turned, he noticed a vehicle behind them, approaching at a fast clip.

  “I didn’t know someone had burned the building down…” Deputy Henry said. “Didn’t realize it was arson, not until I saw him. He stepped right out of the shadows and came to me. Hands already up. Said he did it, and I had to arrest him. He kept looking over his shoulder, and he was shaking. I thought maybe he was high. I mean, what arsonist gives himself up like that?”

  Wolf glanced back again and frowned. The big black Chevy Tahoe wasn’t slowing down, and they were approaching a curve. The driver would be extremely reckless if he tried to pass now. Wolf tapped the rearview mirror. “We’ve got company.”

  Her gaze darted to the mirror. “Maybe he just wants to get around.” She took her foot off the gas and slowed.

  The SUV barreled closer but didn’t change lanes. Now that the vehicle was closer, Wolf could see there wasn’t a license plate on the front bumper. Instinct told Wolf they were in trouble. “Deputy—”

  “Yeah. Hold on.”

  She swerved her sedan into the left lane and hit the brakes. The SUV sped past. Then the brake lights flashed.

  With a grinding of gears, the deputy put the sedan in reverse, executed a sharp turn, then changed gears again, pointing the car in the opposite direction, her foot mashing down on the accelerator.

  Wolf kept his gaze glued on the Tahoe behind them. “It’s turning. They’re following us.”

  “Not friends of yours, I’m assuming,” she said, her voice tight.

  “No, and I doubt they’re friendly.”

  “I saw a turnoff about half a mile back.”

  He remembered it. The road was graveled, single lane. Likely a logging trail.

  As they approached, she barely slowed, making a hard left and crashing onto the gravel track. “Look for a gap in the trees.”

  “There.” He pointed toward another narrow trail.

  She took the left, drove twenty feet inward, then slid her vehicle between trees and brush. “Get out.”

  They both exited the vehicle and ran into the woods. Deputy Henry drew her weapon and ducked behind a tree. Wolf went to a knee beside her and cursed the fact he’d given Bennie his shotgun. In the distance, he heard tires grind to a halt at the second turn. Doors slammed.

  Although darkness was falling swiftly around them, Wolf made out two men wearing jeans and plaid shirts—with black ski masks pulled down over their faces. Both carried semiautomatic rifles.

  He shot a glance upward toward the deputy. “Don’t suppose you have a second weapon,” he whispered.

  “Holster above my boot,” she said, her gaze never leaving their company.

  He pushed up the hem of her brown trousers and removed a small Glock 26. He slid sideways to take up a position behind another tree and continued to listen to the men who approached her vehicle. Both crouched low and kept the car between them and the trees.

  One man flung open the passenger door while the other provided cover. Muffled curses sounded.

  Wolf’s glance cut to the deputy. He’d take his cue from her.

  She remained still, her weapon trained on the men.

  Two loud blasts sounded, and the men ran back to their vehicle. The engine roared, and the SUV backed out of the trail.

  Still, the deputy didn’t move. He moved quietly beside her.

  “We don’t know whether they left a third,” she whispered.

  Smart. So, they waited the few minutes needed until darkness fell. Listening. But there were no distant sounds of vehicles. No rustling footsteps.

  “Let’s check it out,” he said.

  She nodded and pointed toward her chest then toward the left side of the car. He pointed toward the right and gave her a nod. They both bent low and moved silently toward her car, circling in opposite directions, and meeting on the far side. There, they stood staring downward.

  Both tires had been shot on the passenger side. They weren’t going anywhere under their own steam.

  Meg Henry watched as Wolf stepped out of the trees to flag down Fetch’s truck.

  Strangely, she allowed him to take charge. Not because she was afraid, but because he acted with such natural authority and competence, she didn’t see the need to fight him to assert her own. Everything about him—his tall, well-muscled frame, his close-cut dark brown hair and piercing blue eyes—told her he was ex-military. He had that air about him, as though he’d seen action and knew how to handle himself and protect others when bad things happened. Plus, it wasn’t like she was even operating in her own jurisdiction—something she knew was going to bite her in the butt.

  Watching him act so calmly, she was thankful Wolf had proven to have a level head. If he’d been the nervous or aggressive type, things might have gone down very badly. As it was, she didn’t know who to trust, but something inside her told her she could trust him.

  Which was why when they’d discovered what the gunmen had done, she’d handed him her cellphone and told him to call his boss. She hadn’t wanted news of what had happened spreading around the sheriff’s office until they reached the relative safety of the stationhouse. Tobin had escaped lockup. Someone on the outside had hunted him down to shut him up. Those two things required conspirators.

  When she’d told Wolf to call his boss, he’d arched an eyebrow but otherwise hadn’t balked, quickly filling in Fetch and asking for him not to mention what he’d revealed to anyone.

  High beams dipped to low. The double-cab pickup slowed and pulled to the side of the road. Wolf opened the door then turned to give her the all clear. Although neither had discussed who the target of the attack had been, he’d insisted she not leave the cover of the trees until he was sure who drove the truck.

  Smart. Something else she liked about him. She wondered about his background. What he’d done before he’d become a bounty hunter, because few people started out with bounty hunting as their first career choice. He’d handled himself and their situation well. Again, she suspected he was military and, likely, some kind of highly trained warrior. He’d seen action.

  She left the cover of the trees and moved swiftly to the pickup, climbing in to sit in the center of the long bench seat.

  After a quick glance around, Wolf slid in beside her.

  Only after he closed the door and Fetch pulled onto the road did she breathe easy. Nearing nine in the evening, the road was empty.

  “So, what the hell happened?” Fetch asked, not glancing their way.

  “Not sure,” Wolf said, looking at Meg.

  She wondered how to explain. “A black Chevy Tahoe followed us. They sped up until they were right on our tail. When I pulled into the left lane and slammed on my brakes, they slowed to a stop. I had a feeling they weren’t just playing chicken, so I drove the other way.”

  “They turned around to follow us,” Wolf said,
“so we took a logging trail, hid the car, and went into the woods. This wasn’t road rage, Fetch. The men were armed and wore masks. They shot out her tires before they gave up and left.”

  Fetch’s frown was visible in the light from the dashboard. “Why’d you call me instead of the sheriff?”

  That wasn’t as easy to explain. She drew a deep breath. “I wasn’t sure who to trust.”

  Fetch shook his head. “And you thought you could trust me? Tobin got killed when my men had him surrounded.”

  “Reese Tobin was scared, before you and your team were ever involved,” she said.

  Fetch’s mouth thinned. “Well, we’re heading straight to the sheriff’s station. He still wants your statements, and you’ll have to tell him about this.”

  “I’m okay with that. I just didn’t like the idea of being out in the open. I don’t know how those two guys knew where to find us in the first place.”

  “You can’t know those two men in the Tahoe were targeting you specifically,” Fetch said.

  “You’re right,” she said, “But it’s weird. I’ve known something was off from the minute I arrested Tobin.”

  Fetch frowned. “You talk to the sheriff about it?”

  She nodded. “He said to leave it to the detectives working the case and to the DA. That Tobin wasn’t wrapped too tight. He was part of a militia group in Whitefish. But that doesn’t explain why he was so scared the night of the fire.”

  Wolf cleared his throat, drawing her attention. “Tobin was scared when we caught him—but I don’t think we were the cause. He was worried about being returned to the jail. He knew someone wanted him dead.”

  “Well, we have one more problem,” Fetch said, his large hands easing then gripping the steering wheel harder. “Bennie never made it to the station, and he’s not answering his cell.”

  Wolf leaned toward her. “Bennie’s one of our hunters. A new guy. And he was driving my truck.”

  She turned to Fetch. “Did Sheriff Hatchett send anyone back to see if he broke down?”

  Wolf snorted. “My truck’s a year old and running fine.”

  “Sheriff’s not happy,” Fetch said. “He took my and Mace’s weapons. Checked us both for gunpowder residue. When Bennie didn’t show, he sent a cruiser to his house, to see whether he was trying to shower before he reported, but there was no one home.”

  “We all carried large-caliber rifles,” Wolf said. “Tobin was taken out with something a lot smaller.”

  “Could Bennie have been wearing a holstered weapon?” Meg asked quietly.

  Fetch let loose a string of curse words. “The shot came from the direction of the ravine. The direction we’d been traveling. I assumed someone trailed us, but it could have been Bennie. He was behind Mace…” He smacked the steering wheel. “I hate to think it was one of my men.”

  “If it was,” Meg said, “he wasn’t working alone.”

  “Neither of the two guys who followed us had Bennie’s build,” Wolf said. “So, he wasn’t one of the two who shot out your tires.”

  As they drew near Kalispell, everyone grew silent.

  After Wolf gave his statement, describing Tobin’s capture and death, a detailed description of his vehicle and his instructions to Bennie, and including his description of the men who’d shot out Deputy Henry’s tires, he stepped out of the Flathead County Justice Center and waited in the parking lot.

  “Sure you don’t want me to drive you home?” Fetch asked. “It’ll be a long walk if you can’t catch another ride?”

  Wolf shook his head.

  Fetch’s eyebrows rose. “You waiting on that deputy? She might be a while. Last I saw, the sheriff had her in his office, and he didn’t look happy.”

  “I’ll wait,” Wolf said. “If I have to, I’ll rent a car.”

  Fetch shrugged. “Well, you can afford it. The reward’ll be processed in the next couple of days.”

  Wolf felt no joy at that news. Perhaps exhaustion was dulling his emotions.

  After Fetch left, he dropped his gear on the ground and leaned against a concrete retaining wall. Thirty minutes later, Deputy Henry exited the station.

  Upon seeing him, she drew up short.

  “You in any trouble?” Wolf asked.

  She shook her head. “He wasn’t pleased I headed out to meet you guys. I’m not part of the investigating team. But I laid everything out for him, reminding him why I’d been uneasy in the first place. That, added to what Tobin said to you, and then his murder…” She shrugged. “Well, it doesn’t add up to a simple prison escape or a hunter mistaking Tobin for a deer. He told me to lay low for a while. Take some time off.”

  Her grimace told him how well she liked that idea. “That another way to tell you you’re suspended?”

  “Nothing official… But he doesn’t like the optics. And he’s trying to keep the incident on the road on the down low. He did assign detectives to scour my car and the surroundings for any evidence, so they can hopefully make arrests—whether or not those guys are somehow connected with Tobin. They’ll be towing my car to impound.” She glanced around. “I’m surprised Fetch left you behind.”

  “I asked him to.” Wolf rubbed the back of his neck. “I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

  She blew out a breath and then checked her watch. “Look, I’m hungry. Want to get an early breakfast?”

  Wolf straightened then reached downward for his gear. “We’re both without wheels.”

  “Yeah, but I called for a taxi.” She smiled.

  Although tired, Wolf’s heartbeat picked up speed at that first smile. “May as well join you,” he said with a crooked smile of his own. “It’s going to be a while before a rental agency opens up.”

  The taxi delivered them to a diner on the highway whose main customers were truckers. The brightly lit restaurant was nearly empty, and the tables were clean. Within minutes, plates filled with fluffy scrambled eggs, sausage, bacon, and toast were served, along with a carafe of coffee.

  They barely spoke as they both tucked into their food. Wolf couldn’t help watching her. Despite her slender figure, she liked her food.

  Mid-bite, she caught him staring and blushed. “Told you I was hungry,” she said, her voice slightly husky.

  “Sorry, deputy, I’m tired. That’s my excuse for staring.”

  “Meg,” she said, then put down her fork. “That’s my first name. And I don’t know your last…”

  He smiled. “Meg… Nice.” He held out his hand. “Wolf Patterson.”

  As they shook, their gazes locked, and her cheeks grew rosy. “Nice to meet you, Wolf Patterson.” Then she leaned forward on her elbows. “So, I have to know. What’s your story?”

  Wolf’s brow shot up. “Story?”

  “I haven’t met many bounty hunters, but they all have a story about how they fell into that line of work.”

  He shrugged, surprised to discover he didn’t mind sharing personal details with her. “When I left the Marines, it was harder finding a job than I thought it would be. I’m not a salesman. I don’t have a degree. My qualifications aren’t something that’ll make me stand out in a stack of applications—except as an instant no-hire, because folks worry about what mental disorder I might have brought back from the sandbox.” Wolf paused. He knew he sounded a little bitter, but those first months had been hard.

  “Truth is, I was considering re-upping when a friend passed my name to Fetch. He’s prior Army and former military police.” Wolf smiled. “When he interviewed me, he said he didn’t come back and look for a job with the police or the FBI because he was sick of too many rules, and he didn’t want to wear a uniform every day. Said becoming a bounty hunter kept him outside, for the most part, and out of trouble. Then he asked me if I needed something to keep me out of trouble.”

  Her smile stretched. “Yeah, I can imagine him saying that.”

  “Anyway, he taught me the ropes. Made me take some online law enforcement classes, and here I am.” Wolf cleared
his throat. “I thought I knew all the sheriff’s deputies, but I’ve never seen you.”

  “Well,” she said, and arched an eyebrow. “I was in the Army Guard, former military police, but I don’t have anything against rules or wearing a uniform.”

  His lips twitched at her wry tone. “That how you know Fetch?”

  She nodded. “My very first tour in Afghanistan, he was the company commander.”

  Wolf settled back in his seat, staring. Her military experience explained her bearing and her steady nerves. “I can’t imagine Fetch without the beard and with a crew cut.”

  She laughed. “First time he called out to me at the station house, I wouldn’t have recognized him, except for that voice.”

  Her cellphone chirped, and she pressed the button on the side. Her eyes widened as she read. “It’s the sheriff. Your truck’s been found…”

  When she glanced up, he knew there was more, and that the news wasn’t good. “Just say it,” he said, his fingers curling into fists.

  “Wolf, Bennie’s body was inside, propped behind the steering wheel.”

  Chapter 3

  When they arrived at the crime scene, state crime lab vehicles were already present. They likely hadn’t had to travel far since they’d already been processing two nearby scenes: the jail house and the wooded area where Tobin had been shot. This farmer’s field was lit by headlights from vehicles pointed toward the scene and spotlights the forensics team had erected.

  In the distance, Meg saw Wolf’s truck, with a dark figure slumped in the opening. Her jaw tightened. She’d only seen Bennie once, the day before, and really couldn’t recall what he’d looked like, because the only person who’d made an impression was Wolf. Still, she was saddened for Fetch and Wolf.

  Meg and Wolf were headed off by Sheriff Hatchett before they could duck beneath the yellow tape. His tall, burly figure peeled away from state troopers gathered around the edges of the crime scene. As he drew near, he shook his head. “Sorry, Deputy Henry, Wolf. Can’t let you inside.”