male or female. “Halt! And drop your light!”
“Sam, it’s me! Don’t shoot!”
Emma. He would know her voice anywhere, even after ten years. “Anyone with you?”
Still running, she dropped the beam of the flashlight to the ground. “I’m alone.”
The crack in Emma’s voice raised his worry level. She’d never been afraid of anything, and if she was scared, something bad had happened. Sam holstered his gun as she barreled into his chest. Automatically, he wrapped his arms around her, feeling her body tremble. “Are you hurt?”
Emma shook her head. “H-he missed when he shot at me.”
His arms tightened around her. “Someone fired at you?” No wonder she was shaking.
She pulled away from his embrace.
“Uh, sorry.” She wrapped her arms around her waist. “I shouldn’t have crashed into you like that.”
“No problem.”
Her stiff, boardlike stance conveyed how uncomfortable she was. That made two of them. Sam made a conscious effort to relax. Even though they worked different sides of the National Park Service, with Emma working as an interpretive ranger at Mount Locust and him the district law enforcement ranger, they would run into each other fairly often. No need to make it harder than it had to be. “Why’d you leave your truck at the gate?”
“I forgot the key to the lock.”
Sam had never known Emma to be forgetful. The overhead lights barely reached the area, but they were strong enough for her full lips and heart-shaped face to capture his attention. He gulped. Staring at her had been the wrong thing to do and only reminded him of what he’d lost.
In spite of that, he couldn’t look away. Were her eyes as green as he remembered? Don’t go there. The low lighting didn’t allow him to see that anyway. As if she’d read his thoughts, Emma dropped her gaze to the ground, her arms still wrapped across her body as if to ward him off. “What were you doing here this late? And by yourself?”
Her head snapped up. “Excuse me? Don’t use that tone of voice with me. And I hardly think 9:00 p.m. qualifies as late.”
“If someone was shooting at you, you could’ve been killed!” He swept his hand around the area. “This place is deserted at night. You of all people should know the Trace isn’t always safe after dark.”
“Who do you think closes up every night? And there’s no if—someone fired at me!”
So much for hoping they could avoid fireworks. Little Miss Independent hadn’t changed one whit, still packed with dynamite in her five-foot-three frame. Sam raked his fingers through his hair as another SUV with flashing blue lights pulled into Mount Locust then turned on the same road Clayton had taken. Sam caught the logo on the side of the door when it rounded the curve. He spoke into his mic. “Clayton, you have an Adams County deputy on your tail for backup. I’m staying here with Ranger Winters.”
“Roger that,” Clayton said.
Sam turned to the woman he’d planned to marry at one time. “Tell me what happened.”
She stared at him briefly, hurt in her eyes, then she toed her sandal in the dirt, unearthing a rock. “I’m not sure. After dinner I realized I’d left a report here and came back to retrieve it.”
Which explained why she wasn’t in uniform. “So, you forgot the gate key and walked to the visitor center.”
“Yes. Then as I was locking up, I heard a backhoe. Thought it might be the maintenance supervisor or even the teenagers that had been messing around earlier.”
He listened as she filled him in about the teenage boys she’d caught around the slave cemetery and then the shots fired. He doubted the boys would have shot at her.
“The bullet plowed into the post where I’d been standing,” Emma said.
“And you didn’t see anyone?”
She shook her head. “But I think it was a man.”
“Why’s that?”
“The way he tromped through the woods. I think it was just one person, and it sounded like someone heavier than the boys who were here earlier.”
He rubbed his forehead. “Explain to me why you decided to investigate this noise? Most people would have called 911 and let us handle it.”
Tension crackled between them as her eyes narrowed. Emma opened her mouth and then closed it. He thought she might explode, but instead she blew out a hard breath.
“Like I said, I thought it was the maintenance supervisor at first,” she said, her voice in control mode, enunciating each word. “Then I thought it might be the teenagers, and I figured I