“We agree on that.”

“Sticking with the victim, I’ve spent some time trying to verify her claim she had work in Florence. So far, I haven’t been able to verify. I’ve started checking places like this, along the highway, but I haven’t found any that hired her, or anyone who remembers her coming in looking for work. And, given her history, I’m wondering why she’d go to the trouble of looking for work down this way when she recently deposited ten thousand dollars in two hits of five—I traced it back to Matthew Brayner—in a bank in Lolo. Not her usual bank,” DiCicco added, “which leads me to believe she didn’t want anyone knowing about it. Which likely includes her parents.”

He hadn’t hit on the money—yet—and money always mattered. “She might’ve been thinking about running again.”

“She might have. There’s another pattern in her history. Men. Which is why I’m going to start checking motels along the route from Florence to Missoula. Maybe she decided to try out the other Brayner brother.”

“Sex and money and guilt.” Quinniock nodded. “The trifecta of motives. Want to get started?”

17

Gull sat on his bed with his laptop. He’d answered personal e-mail, attached a couple of pictures he’d taken that morning of the mountains, of the camp. He’d done a little business and now brought up his hometown paper to scan the sports section.

He knew the jump ship was back, and wondered how long it would take Rowan to knock on his door.

She would, he thought, even if just to pick up the fight where they’d left off. She wasn’t the avoid-and-evade type, and, even if she were, it was damn near impossible to avoid and evade him while working on the same base.

He could wait.

Out of curiosity he did a Google search for wildfire arson investigation, and while he shifted through the results, considered heading into the lounge to see what was up, or maybe see if Dobie wanted to drive into town.

Always easier to wait when you’re occupied, he thought. Then an article caught his interest. He answered the knock on the door absently.

“Yeah, it’s open.”

“Unlocked is different than open.”

He glanced over. Rowan leaned on the jamb.

“It’s open now.”

She left the door ajar as she stepped in, and angled to see the laptop screen. “You’re boning up on arson?”

“Specific to wildfire. It seemed relevant at the moment. How’d the mop-up go?”

“You left a hell of a mess.” She shifted her gaze from the screen to his face. “I heard things got hairy up there.”

“There were moments.” He smiled. “Missed you.”

“Because I’m so good or so good-looking?”

“All of the above.” He shut down the computer. “Why don’t we take a walk, catch the sunset.”

“Yeah, all right.”

When they went out, she pulled her sunglasses out of her pocket. “The fact that I’m surprised and not happy that my father’s involved with a woman I don’t know and he didn’t tell me about doesn’t make me jealous.”

“Is that what we’re calling it? Surprised and not happy. I’d’ve defined it as outraged and incensed.”

“Due to the surprise.” She clipped the words off.

“I’ll give you that,” Gull decided, “since you’ve apparently gone your entire life without witnessing a lip-lock.”

“I don’t think I overreacted. Very much.”

“Why quibble about degrees?”

“I’m not apologizing for telling you to butt the hell out.”

“Then I don’t have to be gracious and accept a nonexistent apology. I’m not apologizing for expressing my opinion over your not very much of an overreaction.”

“Then I guess we’re even.”

“Close enough. It’s a hell of a sunset.”

She stood with him, watching the sun sink toward the western peaks, watched it drown in the sea of red and gold and delicate lavender it spawned.

“I don’t have to like her, and I sure as hell don’t have to trust her.”

“You’re like a dog with a bone, Rowan.”

“Maybe. But it’s my bone.”

Silence, Gull thought, could express an opinion as succinctly as words. “So. I heard about Dolly’s father coming down on you.”

“Over and done.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Are you butting in again, Gull?”

“If you want to call it that. You’ve got to have sympathy for a man dealing with what he’s dealing with, so maybe he gets a pass this time. But that’s what’s over and done. Nobody lays into my girl.”

“Your girl? I’m not your girl.”

“Are we or are we not together here and watching the sunset? And isn’t it most likely you and I will end up naked in bed together tonight?”

“Regardless—”

“Regardless, my ass.” He grabbed her chin, pulled her in for a kiss. “That makes you my girl.”

“Holy hell, Gull, you’re making my back itch.”

Amused, he scratched it, then hooked an arm around her shoulders and kept walking. “So, later. Your place or mine?”

With the light softening, she pulled her sunglasses off, then swung them by the earpiece. “Some people are intimidated or put off by a certain level of confidence.”

“You’re not.”

“No, I’m not. Fortunately for you, I like it. Let’s—” She jerked back at the sharp crack in the air. “Jesus, was that—”

The breath whooshed out of her lungs when Gull knocked her to the ground and landed on top of her.

“Stay down,” he ordered, and saw a bullet dig into the ground six feet away. “Hold on to me. We’re going to roll.” The minute her arms clamped around him, he pushed his body over, felt her do the same, so they covered the ground in a fast, ungainly roll to shield themselves behind one of the jeeps parked outside a hangar.

A third report snapped, pinging metal overhead.

“Where’s it coming from? Can you tell?”

Gull shook his head, keeping his body over hers while he waited for the next shot. But silence held as seconds ticked by, then shattered with the shouts and rushing feet.