Lawless. HelenKay Dimon

exactly?” Joel asked.

      The question caused Jeff to go still. “What?”

      Hope knew where this was going. She felt the conversation rolling downhill and couldn’t grab a two-second break to throw her body in front of it.

      She couldn’t speak for Cam’s expertise, but she guessed it was off the charts. But Joel knew everything about surviving outdoors. He was the one person in the group better at outdoor activities than she was, and that was saying something.

      He thrived in this environment. His father had groomed his kids to fight and shoot, readying them for the domestic civil war he insisted was coming.

      Lost in paranoia and reeling from the unexpected loss of his wife, Joel’s dad believed the government had lost its way and only small pockets of freedom-loving people would save the world. He went about it by toughening up his kids, making them sleep outside and denying them an education until the state stepped in.

      The upbringing was sick and wrong and it shaped Joel in ways she still hadn’t explored. He liked to joke and act as if certain things didn’t bother him, but she knew. But there were times when his gaze would wander and those dark eyes would glaze. He’d go to whatever place he built in his mind to find normalcy. And he wouldn’t let her in.

      “Do you know anything about wilderness survival?” His voice stayed deceptively soft as he aimed the question at Jeff.

      The other man held eye contact for a few seconds, then broke it. “We studied up before we came out here.”

      “Oh, good.” Joel stared at Cam. “They studied.”

      She got the point, but the conversation promised to run them right into a brick wall. “Joel, that’s enough.”

      Not that he heard her. He continued to stare at Jeff.

      She knew the hard truth. None of the testosterone-jousting did anything to help them locate Mark.

      “Which cabin belongs to this guy?” Cam asked.

      “That one.” She pointed to the building directly next to where hers sat in the middle of the makeshift line. Because she appreciated the assist, she followed Cam’s lead. “Charlie, can you take the guys and put together some provisions? If we’re going to spread out and search for Mark—”

      Joel frowned. “Are we?”

      “—they need to be ready.”

      Charlie started shaking his head before she finished the sentence. “I’m not convinced this is necessary. He’s probably sulking. Struck me as the type.”

      “He’s the vice president of finance,” Jeff said, as if that explained everything.

      When Joel finally performed that eye roll it looked like he’d been dying to do since Jeff stood up, it was obvious he wasn’t convinced. “So?”

      But she had a plan and it depended on everyone agreeing and moving on. “Charlie, if you could, maybe, keep everyone together, that would be a great help.”

      He stared at her, not saying a thing. A gust of wind shook the leaves and the sun beat down on the campground, but the silence stretched out. Finally, Charlie began a slow nod. It picked up in speed as it went and seemed to last for a long time. “Ah, got it.”

      She blew out the breath she’d been holding. It scratched her throat as it rushed out. “Thanks.”

      “Gentlemen?” Charlie motioned for the managers to follow him. “Let’s go find Perry and get packed.”

      Joel didn’t speak until the place cleared out and the voices faded as everyone slipped through the path between the cabins and headed for the kitchen cabin and open seating area about thirty feet away before he faced her. “What’s with the search party talk?”

      “Some of this crew think they are mountain men. I was worried they’d run off with butter knives and try to slay bears or something equally stupid.” She’d dealt with the type for a long time and developed some skills, the top one being not to let them rally and slide into attack mode.

      Cam nodded. “You wanted Charlie to keep them occupied while we searched.”

      She looked at Joel, waited for him to say something. She expected a lecture on knowing the parameters of her job and leaving the investigation to him, the professional.

      Instead a smile broke across his lips. “Your dad would be proud of your covert abilities.”

      The compliment rushed right to her head, making her as dizzy as drinking the finest wine. “You don’t grow up with a former special ops guy and not learn a few things.”

      That smile only widened. “Apparently.”

      “Besides, Charlie gets it. He knows the kind of people who come out here,” she said, hoping to focus on all she had to do and drag her mind away from Joel. “He can help.”

      Cam chuckled. “If Joel doesn’t tick him off.”

      Very true. “Well, there’s that.”

      They walked to Mark’s cabin. The men’s footsteps matched and she had to push her gait to keep up. They had long legs and moved quickly and quietly. She had a case of nerves that shook her hard enough to knock her over. She wanted to believe there was a reasonable explanation, but as the minutes passed her faith waned.

      She used her master key to open the lock. All three of them stepped inside and stopped. Their shoulders touched and they still took up most of the open space.

      They kept silent as their gazes scanned from wall to wall. The room consisted of two double beds and a small sitting area. With only a few suitcases, a coffeepot on a hot plate and rows of clothes on hangers inside the open closet, the visual inventory didn’t take long. There was one door, which went to a bathroom only slightly larger than a closet because the shower was outside the cabin in every building but hers.

      Joel’s shoes scraped against the wood floor as he stepped farther inside. “There’s not much here.”

      She had to take the blame for that one. “I found I have to really limit what they can bring along or some folks come out here with laptops and three suitcases and think someone else will drag it along.”

      “Very practical.” Joel rummaged through a duffel bag on the floor and peeked under the cushions on the loveseat.

      Metal screeched as she slid the hangers on the old rod. She spotted a few shirts and extra sneakers on the floor. There wasn’t as much as a chest of drawers in the place.

      “Blood.” Cam didn’t add anything else. One word and so deathly serious.

      She spun around to find Cam standing by the bed closest to the door. “What?”

      Joel got there first, but she was right behind. They all crowded around the bed, staring and unmoving. No one touched anything.

      She tried not to state the obvious, but she didn’t see anything except crumpled white sheets and a stack of pillows with a clear head indent in them. “What am I looking at?”

      Cam nodded in the direction of the bottom of the bed. “The underside of the cover.”

      Before she could reach over, Joel put out an arm and held her back. Two steps put him at the small table on the other side of the room. He was back in a flash with a pen in his hand.

      With the tip, he lifted off the cover and flipped it back. Dark streaks ran about a foot along the underside. Splotches stained the navy blue blanket underneath. The dark shade hid the color. But she knew.

      The dizziness hit her full force and the room spun. She would have grabbed for Joel but he’d crouched down to study the bed close up.

      “It’s not a lot,” she said, looking for any positive spin on this horrible find.

      “Well, it’s more than a few drops,” Joel said. “Almost