the brutal twist of emotion in his gut. He was not a jealous man. Never had been. Hell, he wasn’t even possessive. Not that he had a right to be in the first place. He and Kelly were through. She was free to see whomever she chose. Just because Buzz had never quite reconciled himself to the fact that their divorce meant things were over between them for good didn’t mean he was going to let the possibility that she was having a relationship with this bespectacled corporate jerk cloud his judgment.
Easing back from the man, Kelly turned to Buzz. “Taylor, this is Buzz Malone.”
The other man stuck out his hand. “Taylor Quelhorst. Glad to meet you.”
Buzz hesitated an instant before accepting the handshake. If the other man knew Buzz was the father of the child in question, he gave no indication.
“You’re a retired policeman.” Taylor squeezed Buzz’s hand.
Buzz squeezed back. “Ex-detective.”
“Buzz and I are going to hike the trail where Eddie was lost,” Kelly said.
Taylor released Buzz’s hand abruptly and gave her a sharp look. “I was planning to take you back to the motel where I’m staying.”
“No. All my things are here. You go. I’m going to join the search.”
“Well, then, I’ll go with you.”
“You don’t have any gear,” Buzz cut in, then motioned toward Taylor’s Italian loafers. “You’d just slow us down.”
The other man’s annoyed gaze swept from Kelly to Buzz, and then back to Kelly. “Do you want me to go—?”
“No, I want you to go back to the motel,” she said firmly. “Make sure the rangers and sheriff’s department have the number there, so they know how to reach you.”
“They do.”
“All right.” Pulling away from him, she sighed. “You’ve got my cell number. Please, call me the instant you hear anything.” Her eyes intensified. “Anything.”
“You got it.” Leaning forward, he kissed her gently on the cheek.
Unwilling to witness any more of the exchange, Buzz turned away and started toward a couple of sheriff’s deputies holding a thermos of what he hoped was coffee. He might be divorced from Kelly, he might even be fine with it, but he sure as hell didn’t like seeing another man put his hands on her.
A moment later, Kelly drew up beside him. “All right. I’m ready. Let’s go.”
All too aware that he was annoyed as hell and his heart rate was up to a dangerous level, Buzz risked a look at her, but he didn’t slow down. “You finished with Mr. Corporate America?”
“His name is Taylor Quelhorst, and he’s my boss.”
“Seems friendly.”
“We’re friends. He cares for Eddie.”
“I’ll bet.”
Buzz stopped walking on reaching the two deputies. Setting his pack on the ground, he offered his hand. “I’m Buzz Malone with RMSAR.”
A young, muscle-bound deputy grinned and shook his hand enthusiastically. “You guys found that lost Boy Scout last summer. Good going. We’re glad to have you here.”
“This is the lost boy’s mother, Kelly. What’s the stat?”
After introductions were made, one of the deputies poured coffee from a thermos and handed a cup to Kelly, another one to Buzz. The other young man updated Buzz and Kelly on the search. “No sign of the subject yet. Someone reported tracks up on Cougar Ridge, but they didn’t pan out. We’ve had so many volunteers, the area is pretty trampled. Most of the volunteers have gone home for the night, but they’ll be back first light. What are you folks going to do?”
“We’re going to hike up to the site where the child was initially lost.”
Grimacing, the deputy glanced down at Kelly. “You sure you want to do that in the dark? You can’t see much. You’ll have a better chance of spotting him tomorrow if you’re fresh.”
Buzz knew the deputy was experienced enough to know that many times the parents of lost children exhausted themselves early and then weren’t much good to anyone—including the child—thereafter. What he didn’t know was that Buzz intended to make sure Kelly got some rest tonight whether they were on the trail or not.
“I’ve got a halogen spotlight and a whistle.” Buzz finished his coffee and passed the empty cup back to the deputy.
“That’ll help.” The deputy collected Kelly’s cup as well. “You got a radio with you?” he asked Buzz.
“VHS. What frequency are you guys using?”
“Emergency channel 16. All agencies involved.”
“Got it.”
“You folks be careful.”
Hefting his pack, Buzz slipped it over his shoulders and started toward the darkened trail. Kelly had to trot to keep up with his long stride.
“I don’t have a pack,” she said.
“I’ve got everything we need in mine.”
“I didn’t know you had a whistle,” she said. “That’s a good idea. I wish I’d thought of it.”
“I do this for a living now, remember?”
She didn’t answer, but Buzz knew what she was thinking. The way he made his living had been another point of contention between them—they’d had a lot of those when they’d been married. Early in their relationship, the love between them had been so strong it didn’t matter that he was a cop and spent his days wrestling with armed criminals who wouldn’t think twice about capping a cop. But the dangers of his job had taken a heavy toll on their marriage.
After the shooting, Kelly had made it clear she could no longer take the pressures of being a cop’s wife. With a bullet lodged mere millimeters from his spinal cord, Buzz hadn’t been able to go back to active duty. The department had offered him a desk job, but the position held little appeal. Kelly had wanted him to take the corporate security job that had been offered to him by an established firm out of Denver. But the thought of sitting behind a desk all day, devising ways to keep employees from stealing pencils was about as exciting as his own funeral. When the team-leader position with Rocky Mountain Search and Rescue had become available, Buzz had jumped at the opportunity. That had been the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back.
Buzz had never fully understood why she hadn’t been able to accept his need to be on the front line. He suspected her father had a lot to do with it. Buzz had never met Jack McKee, but the man was a legend. He’d been a smoke jumper back in the early 1980s. A breed of man who lived for the rush and the heady taste of danger that came with putting his life on the line. They’d called him Jumpin’ Jack Flash back then. He’d been the best of the best. Courageous. Daring. Kelly would have been about fifteen when he’d died. Buzz didn’t know the details, but he’d
