The worst part was the rain. Most of it didn’t make it through the thick jungle canopy, but water constantly dripped off every branch and leaf. Within two days, she didn’t have a single piece of clothing that was completely dry, and sleeping turned into more of an exercise in finding a dry spot than in getting any actual rest.
Voices drifted her way as she screwed the cap back on her canteen. She looked up to see Declan and Tate deep in conversation. From the looks on their faces, they were worried about something. She stowed her canteen and walked over to join them. Brent and Gavin followed.
“What’s wrong?” she asked quietly.
Tate hesitated. “I’m not sure. But I’m getting a funny feeling that someone has us out here playing human mine detector.”
That didn’t sound good. “What does that mean?”
“Pull out your map,” Declan said.
She pulled the carefully folded laminated map out of one of the cargo pockets of her pants and opened it. She’d taken the readings from the GPS Tate had given her and logged their position every few hours. Declan stepped closer and pointed at the dots she’d made on the map.
“I know it doesn’t look like it because someone is trying to make it hard to see, but we’re not stomping around aimlessly. We’re being run through a loose search pattern. Somebody has us looking for something.”
Studying the map while standing so close to all that muscle was difficult and Kendra had to force herself to focus. Looking at the placement of the dots on the map, she could see how they might seem like a search pattern. She’d simply thought they were supposed to move back and forth through the region like this.
“Maybe it’s just easier to have us move in a relative straight back and forth pattern?” she suggested.
Declan shook his head. “I’d agree if we weren’t occasionally pulled off our path and routed through specific areas. Like that sheltered valley we just left. Or that big bend in the river we passed this morning.”
Kendra followed along as he pointed them out on the map with his long fingers, then looked up at him. “What do you think we’re supposed to be looking for?”
“I don’t know,” Tate said. “But I’m not comfortable knowing we’re only going to find out the answer after we’ve stepped into the middle of something.”
Hence the human-mine-detector reference.
Kendra glanced at Declan to see him looking off into the jungle again.
“What aren’t you guys telling me?” she asked. “Declan, where have you been disappearing to all day?”
It was Tate who answered. “Declan thinks someone’s following us and has been since late last night.”
She pinned Declan with a look. “You think? Or you know?”
He met her gaze. “There’s definitely someone out there, but they’re quiet—too quiet. And they’re keeping their distance most of the time. Every once in a while though, I’ll hear them move closer, but they disappear whenever I try to get a look at them.”
Kendra glanced at each of the guys. She knew they trusted Declan’s instincts, so that meant she did, too. “Should we tell the others?”
“Tell them what?” Tate asked. “That we’re suspicious about the coordinates we’ve been following for the last three days? That the bear shifter on our team is certain he’s heard someone following us, but that they’re a couple miles away? Would you believe any of that if you didn’t work for the DCO?”
He had a point. “So, what do we do?”
“We keep our eyes open and be ready if the shit hits the fan,” Declan said.
Great.
“Declan, if things get ugly,” Tate added, “I want you to get Kendra out of here.”
Declan didn’t look happy about that, but he nodded.
Kendra clenched her jaw. They were talking like she wasn’t even there. “I can take care of myself.”
“Not without a weapon, you can’t,” Tate said.
“That’s because you didn’t give me one.”
“You’re right, I didn’t. Which means you can’t take care of yourself, can you?”
Kendra opened her mouth to argue, but DEA Agent Carmichael shouted for everyone to get back on the trail. Declan and Tate walked away, leaving Kendra with nothing to do but follow and fume. If she could just tell them how she’d handled herself in Washington State, or how calm, cool, and collected she’d been under pressure breaking into the DCO’s record repository, they’d change their tune. But she couldn’t say anything about either of those things, so they thought she was nothing more than a mild-mannered behavioral