“Thank you again for that apple cake, Janice. It was absolutely delicious.”
She beamed. “I’m always happy to bake for you. How are you doing this morning? I heard you had a rough night.”
“I did. A long one. I’m doing all right, but I’ve got a few things I need to look into.”
“What’s up, Sheriff?”
“Probably nothing, but I wanted to let you know I’ll be out for a while.”
“All right, take your time. I predict a quiet afternoon.”
I tipped my hat to her. “That would sure be nice.”
I headed out toward the shed where I’d spotted Carlotti’s men. Lance said he’d already looked around there, and Ambrose told me not to go there again, but my instincts told me that was the place to start looking. I parked about a half mile away and trekked through the woods, keeping out of sight.
There was no one around. The air was thick. It felt like I had to push it away to move through it. I was soaked with sweat and looked like I might have been swimming by the time I made it to the position where I’d watched Carlotti’s men unload.
I studied the place the Theriots and I had used for our stakeout, wondering if Ambrose might have returned there to set up the camera.
I didn’t see any equipment, so I began slowly making my way toward the edge of the woods, studying the ground for footprints or any other evidence someone had walked that way today.
An arm came around my waist, and I was jerked off my feet. My yell was cut off by a large hand closing over my mouth. I fought my attacker, kicking back and digging my fingers into his arms.
“Stop, you asshole, it’s me.”
Ambrose? Where the fuck had he been? I hadn’t seen or heard any sign of him.
He set me down but didn’t take his hand off my mouth.
“First, Lance tramps all over the area and now you. What the fuck are the two of you doing? Trying to ruin everything?”
I grabbed his wrist, pulled his hand away from my mouth, and turned to face him. “We were worried about you.”
“No more talking.” His voice had a hard edge, and it made me want to defy him.
“You’re the one who asked a question.”
“A rhetorical question.”
“What the hell are you doing out here? That’s a real question.”
“Reconnaissance. What did you think?”
I started to speak, and he once again pressed his hand to my mouth. This time, I inhaled his scent—sweat and spice and an earthy, woodsy smell. I wanted to lick his palm, but I had at least that much self-control.
“I found your friend’s grandson. He’s on his way to a safe house now, and we’ll return him when our operation is over. Now do your best not to make a sound.”
He turned around and I could only assume he expected me to follow him. I wanted to stand there unmoving and see what he did, but he looked right on the edge, too close to losing control. I didn’t want to witness that. I could feel the tension inside him and knew it was too close to the surface. Would I be safe if he lost it? I wasn’t going to find out if I could help it.
I followed him, moving as quietly as I could. I used to think I was damn good, but Ambrose was absolutely soundless.
All the questions I wanted to ask buzzed in my head. How had he found the boy, and how the hell did he already have him on his way to safety? Several times, I had to press my lips together to stop myself from speaking. Had I forgotten everything I’d learned? There was no telling who else was out there watching. Ambrose was right. We needed to be quiet, even though he was making me crazy in far too many ways.
Ambrose led me out of the woods to where a motorcycle stood next to a tree on what couldn’t really be called the road but probably was accepted as one by the locals. Without saying a word, he took a helmet from the storage compartment and held it out to me. I took it from him, and he threw his leg over the bike and started the engine.
When I didn’t move, he raised his chin, signaling for me to get on behind him. I knew I didn’t have a choice, but before I moved, I tapped my helmet and pointed to him. He shook his head. Apparently he was too cool to wear one.
I glanced back toward the woods, and Ambrose grabbed my arm, pulling me toward him. I climbed on the damn bike behind him and had no choice but to grab hold of his waist as he rocketed off. We flew down the dirt path, moving much too fast, but he drove beautifully.