Alley to the town. Or so I hear.” He fished his keys out of his pocket, seeming anxious to leave.
“What do you mean, ‘so I hear’? You’ve never been there?”
“Nope. Got no reason to. I’ll call you if we find anything on Gillette.” He hurried to his car before Jake could ask him any more questions. If Jake didn’t know better, he’d think the idea of going to Mystic Glades had Holder...scared. But that didn’t make sense.
The deputy’s tires kicked up dirt on the side of the road as he took off. He headed down the highway to make the turn toward Naples, leaving Jake alone, just like last night—minus Gillette’s car. And minus the mysterious woman calling herself Faye Star.
He shook his head, thoroughly confused and aggravated over Holder’s lack of interest in helping him. But searching the woods where Gillette’s car was found, when the experts deemed it too dangerous, wasn’t an option Jake wanted to pursue on his own. However, finding Faye Star was like a godsend, a bonus. He’d bet money that she knew more about the crash than she’d told him. And she just might be able to lead him to Gillette, assuming Gillette was still alive. Jake sure hoped so. He was acting as a pseudo-bounty hunter on this case. And if he couldn’t produce Gillette, his fee would be cut in half.
A few minutes later he was driving toward mile marker eighty-four, searching for a road to a town that wasn’t even a real town.
The traffic was light, but Jake still kept an eye out for other cars and trucks. Alligator Alley was notorious for accidents. The eastern portion in Broward County was hemmed in by acres of saw grass that lured drivers into boredom and inattention. This western portion was just as monotonous, with its endless miles of pines bordering the highway, hiding the beauty of the marsh, canals and tree islands behind them.
But the deadliest ingredient to the crashes was the high speeds. Jake didn’t want to become a statistic because some driver hitting the hundred-mile-per-hour mark didn’t realize how slow Jake was going until they were on his bumper. For that reason, he pulled to the shoulder whenever he saw a fast-moving car coming up from the rear.
It took two passes and a full hour before he found the entrance to the nearly hidden road. It was where Holder had said, but so hidden he’d never have found it without specifically looking for it. And even though he was heading east, he had to make a sharp 180-degree turn right after a guardrail and drive parallel to the highway on a steep incline beside the wildlife fence to follow the road. It would have been the perfect spot for a speed trap, because no one up on the highway could see it down here.
When he reached a canal that ran beneath I-75, the dirt road turned the opposite way, directly toward the wildlife fence. As he neared the fence, it slid open to allow his car through. It must have had an electric sensor. But since it was right by the area where wildlife was funneled beneath the highway, it was unlikely any of the critters would have a reason to go near this section of the fence. The design of this little road seemed genius—almost completely hidden but still maintaining the integrity of the protective fences to keep drivers on the highway safe from wild animals running across the road.
About eight miles later he’d driven through several groves of oaks and pines, through a small raised section of road surrounded by saw grass, and then back into a thick tree island with bogs and marsh on both sides of the road. But he still hadn’t located the illusive town. And for some reason the GPS map in his car was going nuts, its directional arrows blinking off and on. One moment it appeared he was traveling south, the next moment the GPS said he was going north. The crazy thing was completely useless. He tried punching up a map on his cell phone but there were no bars, no connection. He cursed and shoved it back in his pocket.
He was debating performing a three-point turn to head back to the highway when a black blur ran across the road in front of him. He skidded sideways, narrowly missing a panther—just like last night—and barely managing to keep his car from sliding into the marsh.
The wild cat bounded into the woods on the south side of the road, or at least, the direction Jake thought was south. Apparently the endangered panthers weren’t quite as rare as they were alleged to be in this area. Either that, or the same animal was stalking him.
He shook his head at that fanciful thought and straightened his car out. He decided to give it a few more minutes before giving up and turning around, so he started forward again. He rounded a curve and slammed his brakes. The Charger shuddered to a stop. Ahead of him, a small, faded wooden sign shaped like an alligator declared the scattering of wooden buildings barely visible through the trees behind it as Mystic Glades.
But he didn’t need the sign to tell him he’d arrived at his destination. Just like last night, a little pixie was standing there staring at him. She was in the middle of the road, in a breast-hugging lavender top, her lavender skirts flirting with the tops of her mud-caked combat boots.
And just like last night, she was pointing a rifle at him.
Faye couldn’t believe her dumb luck and incredibly bad timing as she aimed the rifle at the grille of the black Dodge Charger. With the sun peeking through the trees behind her, she couldn’t see the driver through the glare on the windshield. But she didn’t need to. She’d seen that same car parked on the highway last night as she’d pushed Buddy’s ATV along the edge of the trees. She knew exactly who it belonged to—the incredibly hot, but potentially dangerous cop playing at private investigator, Jake Young.
Pointing a gun at him wasn’t the smartest decision she could have made. But as soon as she’d seen him rounding the curve she’d panicked. She’d tossed her purple backpack behind a tree and brought her rifle up. Now she had no choice but to “bravado” her way through this second meeting, and hope it was their last.
The engine cut off and the driver’s door opened.
“You might as well crank that engine and go back where you came from.” She tightened her fingers around the gun’s stock. “This is private property.”
“You own the whole town?” he quipped as he stood.
It took her several seconds to remember what they were talking about after she saw those broad shoulders again and those yummy muscular arms, that rock-hard-looking chest tapering to his narrow, powerful hips. Yum. Everything about him, from his dark, wavy hair to the boots he was sensible enough to wear out here, had her fighting not to drool. But now wasn’t the right time for those kinds of thoughts. And without knowing why he was trying to find Calvin, it was too dangerous for her to even consider being his friend, much less anything more intimate.
What a shame.
She cleared her throat and hoped she hadn’t stared long enough for him to realize what she’d been thinking.
“We’re all family here in town, more or less,” she said. “I speak for everyone when I tell you that you’re not welcome.” Unfortunately.
“I just want to talk. I need to ask you about Calvin Gillette.” He stepped out from behind the open door.
Faye almost whimpered. In the daylight, he looked even better than he had last night. Too bad she had to make him leave.
“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” she said, trying to think of how to make him want to go. She debated shooting the car’s radiator. But that would just disable it and give him an excuse to continue into town. And she
