their food. They’d probably be asleep soon anyway.
Noah shoveled food into his mouth as everyone surrounded him to get the details.
“What the hell is going on, Noah?” Sheriff Duggan took the seat right next to him at the table. “Francis and Barb said Tanner’s raft collapsed? That shouldn’t have happened where you were on the river.”
He nodded at the woman as he chewed. His brother had the utmost respect for Sheriff Duggan, and she had gone out on a limb to help him a few months ago when there had been some trouble. “The rafts were sabotaged. I found an incendiary device on the raft Marilyn and I were on also, but it didn’t go off for some reason.”
“Why?” Duggan asked, getting straight to the point.
“It’s Jared Ellis. He’s trying to get his hands on Marilyn or use the kids to get to her.”
Ronnie Kitchens, one of the sheriff deputies, shook his head. “Ellis hasn’t left Denver. There’s been no change in his tracking device. I double-checked with the marshal there a couple hours ago. He actually talked to Ellis himself.”
Noah wasn’t surprised. Ellis was basically using the ankle monitor to create an alibi for himself.
Noah still needed to borrow someone’s phone so he could talk to Zac and get his take on the situation. Not that he didn’t trust the marshal’s office, he just trusted Zac more.
“It’s not Ellis himself out there. It’s his friends, and they’re not opposed to resorting to violence.”
He finished off his bread and soup as he told Tanner’s colleagues everything that had happened and the conversation he and Tanner had overheard. Somebody put a mug of coffee in front of him and he reached out and squeezed Marilyn’s hand when she set some creamer and sugar next to his mug. He gave her a nod and a little smile, then showed them on the map where everything had occurred and where he thought Tanner would have led Ellis’s friends.
“You’re eating and drinking like you’re planning to go back out there,” Sheriff Duggan said as he finished a second plate of food and another mug of coffee. “This is a matter for the law now, Noah.”
Bree’s scream still echoed through his head. Yes, it had been part of the plan to try to drag attention away from Marilyn and the kids, but still…
Sheriff Duggan’s eyes narrowed. “I mean it. You need to stay here and let us handle this. We’ve got a team—officers, paramedics, people familiar with the wilderness. You’ve done your part. We’ll get Tanner and Bree back safely.”
Noah wasn’t going to waste time arguing. He didn’t care how big or professional the team was, he wasn’t being left behind. Not when the safety of his family was at stake.
That also included the woman and children Noah loved. He was done pretending like that wasn’t the case.
He held up his hands in a sign of innocence. “I have no intention of getting in your way. But you need to get your team out there and get Tanner the help he needs immediately. That storm is brutal and the people after him and Bree are deadly.”
He gave them more specific locations for where Tanner and Bree should’ve been heading—the survival cabins west of the river. Of course, there were a lot of factors that might have disrupted that plan.
Sheriff Duggan began giving orders for her team. Noah could see why Tanner respected the woman, who was calm and competent under pressure.
Ronnie Kitchens was assigned the duty of driving Marilyn and the kids back into town and keep them under protective custody. He would also notify the Denver marshal’s office what was going on out here. Noah had known Ronnie most of his life. The guy was small-town solid, more of a follower than a leader, but had proven himself loyal and brave as hell when he’d saved Bree’s life last year. Marilyn and the kids would be safe under his watch.
Noah drank another cup of coffee and kept off his feet to rest his muscles as the sheriff and her men headed out. But the moment they were gone, he jumped and asked Mr. Henrikson if he could borrow a phone and a gun.
“God damn it, come on now, Noah.” Ronnie shook his head when he heard Noah’s request. “You heard Sheriff Duggan tell you to stay here. I knew you weren’t going to listen to her.”
Old man Henrikson handed him a Glock 42. “You’re welcome to this and more if you want them, but