Page 99 of Wild Mustang Security Firm

Her mother came from a long line of physicians with one notable, embarrassing exception. Her several-times-removed uncle had been the third son who had left his family at the beginning of the nineteenth century to become a mountain man and never been heard from again. Finn, who was her uncle’s namesake, had defied all expectations and become a highly respected photojournalist.

Finn fell in behind Croft, and they traveled for another couple of hours before reaching Phantom Ranch, the famous trail stop in the Grand Canyon. They rode up to what she assumed was some kind of reservation center, and Croft dismounted, handing her the reins to his mule. She watched him go inside, only to re-emerge a few minutes later.

“All right, they have room for you in one of the cabins. Let’s go get you set up in there. The helicopter will be here tomorrow at eleven to pick you up. While you get settled, I’ll get the mules seen to, then we can have dinner.”

“I’m not having dinner with you, and I’m not leaving. I’m going with you. I was very specific about that in my dealings with Marshal McDaniel.”

“Mac isn’t here, but he was very clear with me keeping you safe was our number one priority. He specifically told me if I thought you were in over your head, I was to call for the chopper. I guess you weren’t as convincing as you thought.” He led her up to the cabin and offered to help her down.

Finn swatted his hand away. “If you’re going to stop for the day, I suppose I have to be all right with that, but you aren’t going anywhere without me.”

“You tell yourself that if you want, but I’m heading out in the morning. Your choice is to stay here or get on the helicopter. They have a lovely breakfast up at the canteen, and after that, you can go back to your room or wait for your ride.”

He reached up and pulled her off Jasper. She struggled, and instead of putting any kind of distance between them, she somehow managed to fall into him… again.

“Let go of me,” she said angrily.

“Let go of you? You’re the one who keeps falling into my arms. I’m done being nice…”

“If this is your idea of nice, I’d hate to see you being nasty.”

“Yeah, you would.” Croft turned her toward the door of the cabin and slapped her ass.

“That hurt, you bastard.”

“Not as much as I would have liked it to…” He seemed to stop himself short, gathering his thoughts. “You’re out of your league here, Ms. Reid. If something happened to your brother, and that’s a bigif, we’ll find him. For all you know, he met somebodyand is shacked up, having the time of his life screwing her brains out. Let me put the mules up, then I’ll come back for you. I’ll show you where everything is, then you can turn in for the night. Give me about half an hour.”

She whirled around and instead of heading for her cabin, headed instead to the canteen. At the door, she watched as he took the mules into the barn, then headed toward her cabin with her saddlebags. He didn’t stay long and was soon back outside and headed for the men’s dormitory.

The nerve of the man. Who did he think he was, telling her what she would or wouldn’t do? He didn’t know the first thing about her.

She grinned. He obviously didn’t know anything about her reputation. Professionally, she was known for her tenacity and unwillingness to take no for an answer. She had covered some of the most war-torn areas in recent global conflicts, primarily focusing on the female point of view, and had been nominated twice for Pulitzer prizes. She had lost the first time but hoped this second time, she might win the coveted prize.

Finn had given up answering to anybody somewhere in her distant past, so if he thought she’d just follow his orders, he’d better have another thought. However, she reasoned, the best way to handle Croft was to let him think he’d laid down the law, and she would obey. She was ready and properly contrite when he finally joined her at the communal dining hall.

Dinner was served mess-hall style at long tables. Not many guests were at the lodge as it was mid-week, and the tourist season was only just gearing up. Finn sat down with a couple of avid campers who were frequent guests. While observing and documenting was her normal MO, she’d worked with an investigative journalist often enough to have picked up tricks of the trade to get people to open up and volunteer information, most of the time without their even knowing it. She asked themquestions about their lives and their experiences in the Grand Canyon, specifically about the location where she was heading. Finn didn’t have long before Croft joined them. She hoped she had camouflaged her pointed interest with enough fluff, he wouldn’t be able to figure out her real goal or what she was planning. What she didn’t ask was if they, or anyone else, had seen Christian.

Croft walked her back to her cabin.

“I’m not sure what all that was about in there, but whatever you think you’re planning, don’t do it. Stay in this cabin until breakfast, enjoy yourself with your new hippy-dippy friends, and wait for the helicopter. Then go home to Boston or wherever the hell it is you live. We’ll find your brother.”

“Exactly who died and appointed you God? Somehow, I missed that memo. I’m not sure where you get off giving me orders, but you can take them and shove them up a hole where the sun doesn’t shine.”

She closed and locked the door before he could respond, then waited until she heard him leave the porch. Finn would give him a half-hour. He had mentioned he would be sleeping in one of the men’s dormitories. Her “hippy-dippy friends,” as Croft had named them, had explained how to get from where the mules would be kept overnight down to the Colorado River. From there, she knew to turn west and follow the river for the next few days. Even though it was a clear night with a full moon, she had made sure to ascertain the trail along the bank was easily traversed.

Finn gave Croft an additional hour to check on the mules and get settled before picking up her saddlebags and tossing them over her shoulder, then quietly made her way to the stables. There were several mules there, so she was glad Jasper’s appaloosa coat pattern made him easy to distinguish from the others. As she brought him out of the stall, she became awareCroft had entered the barn and was standing on the mule’s other side.

“And where the hell do you think you’re going by yourself… on a stolen mule… in the middle of the night?” Croft asked, clearly angry.

“That’s none of your business.”

“It’s my mule. You’re my responsibility. That makes it my business. Take your saddlebags and get back to your cabin.”

“Fuck you,” she said, throwing the saddle up on Jasper’s back.

Croft removed it before it had a chance to settle, and Finn watched as he hoisted it over his shoulder, untied the mule, then put Jasper back in the stall and the saddle back on the stand. Without saying another word, he grasped her upper arm in a vice-like hold and began walking back in the direction of her cabin, dragging her behind him.

“Let go of me, you thug,” she said through gritted teeth, trying to pull away. Her efforts seemed to have little to no effect. “Let go!”

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