Page 42 of Their Wicked Games

THIRTY-EIGHT

FRIDAY

Taking a personal day during an investigation was pure luxury and the guilty feeling deep down inside Rowley refused to abate. He sat on the family room floor playing with twins Vannah and Cooper as Sandy cleared the breakfast dishes. He looked at his children and sighed. “You sure you don’t want me to come to playgroup with you? It sounds like fun.”

“You work long hours every day, and during cases, seven days a week without a break.” Sandy came to the door, staring at him and shaking her head. “If Jenna rosters off her deputies, it’s to keep you all fresh. You know darn well the moment she has the killer in her sights, she’ll call you in for backup.”

Giving each of his twins a hug before getting to his feet, Rowley nodded. “Yeah, I know she will. I’d better take the satellite phone with me. I just feel guilty for enjoy myself when everyone else is hard at it.”

“Stop tearing yourself apart, Jake. Jenna will be fine. Don’t forget she has Jo and Carter helping out. You said yourself that it was quiet in town. If there hadn’t been a murder, you’d all be sitting around twiddling your thumbs.” Sandy put her arms around him. “Go and bag a few turkeys. It’s been some time since we’ve been able to fill the freezer.”

Reluctant to tear himself away from her, Rowley collected his crossbow and quiver. “Okay, I’ll see what I can do.”

“I think you should take this in the truck with you.” Sandy handed him his service belt and weapon. “I know you figure you can take anything down with that crossbow, but you should have a backup weapon just in case something happens.”

Rowley lifted up the leg of his jeans to display an ankle strap holster. “I never leave home without it.” He smiled at her and took his service belt. “I’ll lock it in the truck, just in case Jenna calls me for backup.”

“Where are you meeting your friend?” Sandy walked into the kitchen to grab his backpack. “I’ve packed enough food for two.” She followed him to the front door, down the steps, and to his truck.

“On Stanton in the forest warden’s parking lot.” Rowley smiled. “He called the forest warden yesterday to get the open areas. Apparently, there’s a mess of turkeys in the forest on the west side of the ravine.”

“Okay, stay safe.” She pushed up the rim of his Stetson to kiss him. “I’ll see you when you get back.”

He dumped his gear into the back seat and climbed behind the wheel. Moments later, he hit the highway. The wind whistled through the open window, sharp and cold but invigorating. He sucked in lungfuls of mountain air, and the excitement of going hunting sizzled through him.

Twenty minutes later, he turned into the forest warden’s parking lot. Surprised to see so many vehicles, he found a space and collected his gear. He’d pulled on his backpack and had his crossbow in hand when he heard a familiar voice. “Ah, there you are. Sorry I’m late.”

“I’m early.” His friend grinned. “Do you know your way to the hanging bridge over the ravine? I noticed most of the other hunters are heading to zone three. We’ll have zone two to ourselves, even though it is farther away.”

Rowley had been involved in searching that area many a time, chasing down serial killers and finding mutilated bodies. A shiver went down his spine but he shrugged it off. Nothing was going to spoil his day. “Yeah, I know the way and I’m glad we’re hunting alone.”

He’d worn his special orange hunting jacket. The liquid Kevlar-lined armless jacket had been a gift from Wolfe. His friend never ceased to amaze him with the strange inventions he devised for their safety. He didn’t know where he managed to get some of the equipment but thought it better not to ask, knowing that both he and Kane had been in the military. Wolfe had insisted the jacket would withstand a bullet or arrow but wouldn’t turn him into a superhero. He smiled at the memory and pulled up the zipper against the cool mountain breeze. He glanced at his friend. “Ready?”

“Lead the way.” His friend waved him toward the trail.

Their boots crunched on the dry brown pine needles as they headed through the dense forest. Rowley followed the swirling river for a time, disturbing a white-tail doe drinking her fill on the riverbank. Her dark brown eyes blinked at him for a few seconds before she turned tail and bounced into the forest. He rarely hunted deer and never killed a deer or elk cow. It didn’t seem right somehow. In the distance he noticed the orange flashes of hunters as they moved in different directions through the tall endless pines. The forest renewed itself each year and after the melt bright green patches of new growth abounded. Sandy always came to his mind when he walked past wildflowers scattered among the green tufts of grass. She loved to collect wildflowers in the forest, but bringing the twins anywhere where cats and bears prowled was never going to happen. He stopped walking and leaned his crossbow against a tree to take a drink bottle from his backpack. His friend was usually talkative. Most times he couldn’t shut him up, especially when it came to hunting. They’d been out many a time to fill their freezers for the winter. “You’re quiet. Something on your mind?”

“Nope. Just enjoying the solitude.” His friend took a deep breath. “I’ve been hunting with friends who never stop talking. It’s like they want to frighten the game away with their chatter.” He pointed ahead. “There’s the bridge. Man, I haven’t been this far up the mountain for years. My pa brought me here. I must have been five, taught me how to field-dress an elk. I figure the smell stays with you forever.”

Raising his eyebrows, Rowley stared at him. “At five years old? Really? Did you have nightmares?”

“Me? No.” His friend flashed him a wide grin. “I’ve always loved hunting.”

Sure he wouldn’t be taking his son hunting at five, Rowley replaced his drink bottle and shrugged into his backpack and picked up his crossbow. “I guess by now you’ve seen it all. I was raised on a cattle ranch and would have thought processing murder scenes would be a breeze, but I spewed most times. I’m better now. After watching Sandy deliver the twins and changing diapers, I don’t spew so much.”

“What’s the sheriff like?” His friend sipped water from an aluminum flask. “She’s a real babe. Ever made a move on her?”

Astounded by his friend’s question, Rowley held up his left hand. “I’m married and so is she.”

“I know you’re married, but it was just you and her for a time.” His friend chuckled. “Don’t tell me you didn’t think about it.”

Shaking his head, Rowley stared at him. “First, she’s probably eight years older than me, and secondly, she’s my boss. She may look all sweet and innocent but she’s one tough lady. She never backs down and fights like a lioness. Trust me, I’ve seen her in action.” He lifted his chin. “I never once looked at her in that way. She’s more like my sister.”

“Oh, I hit a nerve.” His friend walked ahead of him along the trail to the rope bridge. “Shame she’s married. I wonder why she didn’t take her husband’s name? Is he an old guy? I never see her with anyone but her partner out on patrol.”

Amused Rowley snorted. “The big guy?”

“Yeah.” They’d reached the flattened-out section before the bridge and his friend was breathing heavily.

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