A stinking reporter? That's the last thing they needed, if it was true. “Cade Jones, IIS. Where are your credentials?"
"Top pocket."
Cade reached in and pulled out a worn leather wallet. Inside, he found a smoke-stained press card and photo. Though press cards were easily faked, he suspected this one was the real deal, because it was grimy, faded with age and smoke, and dog-eared in a way only time could achieve. He flipped the wallet closed and put it back. “Why are you here?"
"Heard there were some problems at the Ranger Grant's place this morning. Someone left a threatening note.” The small man shrugged—a movement that looked awkward with Cade still gripping his neck. “Thought I might find me a story if I followed her."
And he had—or at least, he'd caught the whiff of a story, if the gleam in the reporter's blue eyes was anything to go by. The Ripple Creek rangers might have kept the murders out of the news, but by attacking Reeson the way he had, Cade had all but blown the case wide open. And though he doubted he could save the situation, he certainly had to try. The last thing they needed was a repeat of the hysteria that had happened ten years ago.
"The so-called threatening note was a prank left by a kid,” he said, removing his fingers from the reporter's neck and reaching into his pocket for his badge. “However, given the fact that Ranger Grant is assisting with my investigation, sneaking around after her is not likely to be viewed favorably."
Cade rose and moved back. The reporter eyed the badge as he sat up and rubbed his neck. Even in the hazy light suffusing the forest, it was easy to see the red fingerprint marks ringing Reeson's neck. Still, red marks were a whole lot less than what could have happened. What a part of him had almost unthinkingly let happen.
Where the hell had that fury come from? He'd never blown up like that before. Never.
"I wasn't sneaking. I was following.” Reeson paused. “So tell me, what are you and the ranger investigating?"
"Nothing I can talk about at the moment."
Reeson's grin was all reporter. “Can I print that statement?"
"Do it and I'll give someone else the exclusive when there is something to report."
Reeson raised a graying eyebrow. “That a promise, Agent Jones?"
"Yes."
"Good.” The reporter rose and brushed the leaves and pine needles from his clothes. “Expect to see me waiting at the ranger station for my exclusive, then."
"As long as you don't get in our way. Where's your car?"
"Parked on the main road."
"Then I'll escort you."
Reeson grinned. “Don't trust me to leave, huh?"
"You're a reporter,” Cade said dryly.
"Damn."
"If I catch you following us again, you'll lose the exclusive."
"Double damn.” Blue eyes regarded him steadily. “And is the exclusive worth it?"
"Could be."
"Then I'll just head back to my car."
"Good.” Cade grabbed Reeson's shoulder and turned him around. “The road is that way."
"You've had dealings with the press, I see,” Reeson commented, amusement in his voice.
"It's part of the job,” he said. “And if you don't move your ass, I might just have to arrest it."
"For what reason? My throat getting in the way of your hand?"
Cade gave him a deadpan look. Reeson grinned. “I can see that you're a hard man, Agent Jones."