Page 21 of Forest Reed
“That counts for reckless,” Lane shot back. “You’re not even mountain jurisdiction, Zoe! This ismycounty. I want you to stop going after this guy, you don’t know how dangerous he is, I do.”
Sometimes Lane reminds me that she was an FBI agent before she married Jason. I folded my arms, refusing to shrink. “North’s crew isn’t just mountain business, Lane. They’re bleeding into the city, into my cases. Harris is connected. I can’t just hand this off.”
Lane’s jaw clenched. Her voice dropped, low and raw. “You’re my sister. You think I want to bag your body on my mountain?”
The words hit harder than the gunfire had. For a beat, I didn’t know what to say. I glanced at Forest, steady and silent at my side, his presence anchoring me even as Lane’s fury cracked my ribs.
Jason stepped in, voice gentle but firm. “She’s not wrong, Zoe. North isn’t just a name. He’s a machine. If you’re going after him, you need to know he plays longer and dirtier than anyone you’ve dealt with.” His eyes shifted to Forest. “And if she ends up in the ground, that’s on you, too.”
Forest didn’t flinch. His voice was calm, even. “She won’t.”
Jason studied him for a long moment, like he was testing the weight of steel. Finally, he gave a small nod. Not of approval. Just acknowledgment. “The Team will be watching out for both of you and the mountain.”
Lane huffed out a breath, scrubbing a hand over her face. “Fine. But if you’re going after North, you do itwithme. You do it smart. And you don’t keep me in the dark.”
I blinked. “Wait—you’re saying you’re in?”
“Don’t make me regret it,” she muttered, turning to bark orders at her deputies.
I exhaled, tension draining out of me. Forest’s hand brushed mine, quick, hidden, and I wanted to lean into him and not move for a week.
Then one of Lane’s deputies jogged over, holding a charred scrap of plastic bagged in evidence. “Sheriff! Pulled this from the wreckage.”
Lane held it up. I squinted. Melted, blackened, but still visible: a wristband. Bright blue. The same as the one we’d found in the cache.
Numbers were stamped faintly along the inside. Coordinates.
My pulse spiked. “He left us a trail.”
Forest’s eyes met mine, dark and certain. “On purpose.”
Jason’s mouth tightened. “Then you’d better decide fast if you’re chasing him… or if you’re dancing to his tune.”
The smoke shifted, thick and acrid, and I knew Jason was right. North wasn’t running.
He was leading.
16
Forest
The coordinates from the burned wristband dropped us at the edge of the high ridge trail. Not a tourist trail—the kind locals didn’t talk about, the kind hunters and smugglers knew too well. The GPS pinged once, then lost signal completely, leaving nothing but instinct and the weight in my gut.
Zoe slammed the truck door and slung her pack over her shoulder like she’d been doing this her whole life. “So let me guess,” she said. “No cell service, no Wi-Fi, no DoorDash. Just bears and your winning personality.”
I adjusted the strap on my rifle. “Good thing I brought snacks.”
She shot me a look. “If that’s code for jerky again, I’m leaving you here before we even get started.
I almost smiled. Almost. “Relax. I upgraded.” I pulled a foil packet out of my pack and tossed it over.
She caught it, peeled it open, and blinked. “Trail mix?”
“Luxury edition.”
“Wow,” she deadpanned. “Mountain Man pulls out nuts and M&Ms, and I’m supposed to swoon.”
“You’re swooning right now,” I said.
