Listening to her recount the events, Dean let the scene unfold in his mind. Clearly it was more than someone taking cheap shots at the drone. Had those last two bullets been meant for Spalding or Mel? It was impossible to be sure.
His first thought was someone acting on Atwell’s orders. Wouldn’t have been easy getting someone into position, but it wasn’t impossible. If Atwell had pulled off this attack, Dean was certain the target was Mel.
A cold, hard ball of dread and anger twisted in his gut. As she answered a few of the deputy’s questions, Dean tucked her to his side, keeping his body between her and the shooter, no matter that the shooter was long gone.
He was wrong about the adrenaline fading. None of his reactions to the situation were embellished for their cover story. Where would he even be without Mel? The pressure continued building inside him. A combustible mix of unbearable fear that she could have died and sheer relief that she was fine. Every chance he had, he touched her, resenting every action that took her away from his reach.
Another deputy arrived to organize transport back to the visitor’s center for Spalding and his team. Dean knew one of them should go along, but he couldn’t bear to be separated from her. With no one seriously injured, it was more in line with their cover if the two of them collected the crashed drone.
While the others were distracted, Mel slid her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder. It was a close intimate pose she often used to speak privately in a group. He bent his head to hear her better.
“The deputy is staying with them,” she said. “Beck has backup on the way until we can rejoin the team.”
“Thanks. I was over here kicking myself for not making that call earlier.” He brushed his lips over her cheek.
“I’ve got your back,” she smiled. “I’ll help Agostino sketch the scene if you help find that last bullet.”
“Deal.” He kissed her before he let her go. While Mel worked with the deputy, Dean and Keith combed the area until they found the bullet that had come so close to ending her life. When that was documented and safely inside a plastic evidence bag, he helped the kid change the flat tire.
Although Keith wanted to stick around for the drone recovery, the deputy insisted it was too dangerous and sent the young driver back to the activity center.
“This is a day he won’t forget,” Mel said as they loaded up into the deputy’s SUV.
“I must say, you’re holding up well,” Agostino observed.
“Anger can be good fuel,” she said, matter of fact. Not an ounce of animosity in her voice.
Though her lips curved into a smile, Dean recognized it as a thin veneer. Most likely the deputy did as well. Conversation lagged on the drive out to the last GPS signal they had on the drone. The three of them had narrowed down the search area. One definite perk of taking aerial video over a park full of stunning formations, was the ease of finding a clear landmark.
Knowing where to start didn’t immediately equate finding the drone with ease. Using extreme care for the environment, they scoured the brush until they came across the first pieces of debris. Following the path of the crash, they found what remained of the drone and gathered up as many of the broken bits as possible.
By the time they reached the café near the visitor’s center, all Dean wanted was some quiet time. He needed a little space to let out the thorny emotions prickling under his skin. And Mel needed to vent too. He wanted to hear her unvarnished assessment of what went down out there. Her instincts were as valuable to him as confirmed statements. Maybe more so.
But walking into the café, he realized a private chat wasn’t in the cards.
Spalding and his group had been joined by Atwell. The tension was immediately obvious and he was glad the deputy remained with them. Noticing Leo and Cygny at a table close enough to overhear the team from Hollywood gave him a much-needed boost.
Almost on cue, a text message alert hit his phone. Checking the message, he nearly choked on the update from Cygny that started with an eyeroll emoji and ended with “never watching another Spalding film”. In between she relayed the high points of the discussion—mainly that the group wanted to go back to California and Spalding refused to entertain the idea.
Looked as if Spalding had lost at least one fan while he and Mel had been collecting the remains of the drone.
“Here, now.” Atwell flung a hand at Dean and Mel. “Here they are. We can all go back to the Lattice Creek Ranch now.”
Nice name dropping. Dean resisted the urge to call him out on that as all eyes shifted to Dean and Mel.
Taking in the scene, he saw nothing but an emotional mess. Lacy had clearly been crying. Andrew was at her side, as close as he could be without actually holding her. Maria sat in the chair across from her, next to Spalding, acting as a buffer between the director and the others. Kent and Dale sat at opposite ends of the long table in what appeared to be a protective stance. The table was littered with coffee and water cups, crumpled napkins, and a few half-eaten sandwiches.
“Lacy refused to leave without you two,” Andrew explained with a harsh glare for Spalding.
Spalding jumped to his feet. “I’m glad you’re back. If we get moving now, we can complete one of the smaller sites this afternoon.”
Either the director was also a superb actor or he was appallingly oblivious to the situation. Maybe it was willful ignorance of his team’s needs. Either way, Dean wanted to put an end to this entire mess.
Mel moved first. Releasing him, she stepped out of his reach before he could stop her. Hopefully she wouldn’t flatten the director. That would be a hard one to explain and not at all in line with their standing protection orders.
“Which site, Lacy?” Mel queried.