Title Page
Danger could lurk behind the beauty. She should know that better than anyone.
Slathered in insect repellent, Alice Wilde and her client had already hiked for three days into the Oregon mountains filled with bald eagles, waterfalls and huge, winding trees—oaks, pines and junipers—while they did their best to avoid poison oak.
This was called “roughing it” by any standard.
Marie had hired Alice to lead her on a hike in the wilderness—it had been on her bucket list, she’d said. Marie had wanted this off-trail adventure far from the overcrowded Rogue River forty-mile trail and the buzzing drones in the canyon.
Tens of thousands of designated wilderness acreage still remained to explore, not counting about a million acres of Siskiyou National Forest. They weren’t going to run out of places to explore anytime soon, which was something Alice loved about the area.
What she didn’t love? The heat, the sweat and the bugs she’d experienced during this brutal hike. She should be in a raft guiding other enthusiasts who’d come to the region to meet the white-water rapid challenge. Except Alice had never wanted to get in that river again after what had happened eight months ago. Someone had trusted her to guide him down the Rogue River through the hazardous rapids.
Rapids that had turned deadly. The man had died on her watch.
As if her thoughts had conjured the image of flowing water, she crossed a small creek—one that eventually emptied into the Rogue River miles away. Alice followed the brook upstream. Marie continued behind her, enjoying the quiet forest as they hiked. Her feet aching, Alice would need to look for a place to set up camp for the night.
She came across a PVC pipe and froze.
Someone diverted water from this brook. Totally illegal. And a bad sign.
Glancing back at Marie who viewed the unnatural sight with curiosity, Alice warned her in a soft whisper, “Stay here.”
“But the—”
Alice held a finger to her lips as she lowered her heavy pack to the ground. Pressed her palms down, signaling Marie to stay low. The woman crouched, frowning, with not a little anxiety in her eyes. Alice removed her weapon from its holster. As quietly as possible, she followed the black PVC pipe from the brook through the woods. When the pipe detoured away from the creek, she hunkered behind the thick trunk of a pine and peered through the bushy shrub growing at its base.
About a hundred yards away, through the dense forest, she could just make out an area where trees had been cut down.
Garbage—plastic bags and propane bottles—was strewn about.
And she could see the plants.
Rows and rows of plants.
Her pulse roared in her ears.
Marijuana.
Oh no!
She’d stumbled on an illegal growing operation. How big, she couldn’t know. Regardless, she had to escape before anyone spotted her.
Maybe it hadn’t been wise to follow the pipe, but neither would it have been wise to continue hiking without investigating. She didn’t want to lead Marie into danger that could get one or both of them killed.
Now she’d need to get the global position on her cell to mark the exact location
