Page 61 of Raven's Curse
“He might toss some tin foil your way, but otherwise, he’s pretty benign. Overlooking that whole grenade fiasco.”
“Grenade?”
“The one that got stuck under Saylor’s seat. Nearly took her and Zain out because Buck forgot he had some live ones in his little treasure box. Didn’t Zain tell you?”
“Remind me to kick Zain’s ass later.” Chase arched a brow. “And that seems to be going around.”
Greer sighed. “I didn’t think my location was relevant. Up until last night, we didn’t even have the area narrowed down. And who would have thought any of the men could have survived. That they’d hunt us down. It’s crazy. Besides, I’m sure there’re a hundred missions you can’t talk to me about.”
“You’re right.” He pursed his lips, leaned closer. “How about I make you a deal? The next time some psychotic ex-teammate comes gunning for either of us, we’ll tell each other everything, security be damned.”
She smiled. “Deal.”
She slowed as she entered a small clearing, Buck’s motorhome parked off to one side. Green camouflage netting covered everything, the tiny squares fluttering in the gusting breeze, only the tall array poking out the top.
She parked to the right, jumping out as soon as she’d turned off the engine. It ticked, the fan humming in the background for a while before everything cut off. Leaving an eerie silence in its wake. Just like Eli’s cruiser last night.
Chase looked at her across the hood, tilting his head as if reading her mind. “There’s nothing we could have done. No way we could have saved him. He’d lost too much blood before our perp put him in the river.”
“Why doesn’t that make me feel any better?”
“Because the truth won’t bring him back.”
The thought hit her hard, and she turned, headed for Buck’s door. A generator hummed somewhere behind the vehicle, a few strings of lights connected to the nearest tree. The stairs creaked, rocking the RV a bit as she rapped on the door. “Buck. It’s Sheriff Hudson. We need to talk.”
The chassis squeaked as footsteps sounded behind the door before it cracked open.
Buck peered out through the sliver of space, gaze darting to Chase before focusing back on her. “How did you find me?”
She grinned. “I’m an expert tracker.”
He glared at Chase before directing it back at her. “You’re supposed to come alone.”
“And you’re supposed to call me if you witness any criminal activity.”
His gaze darted to Chase, again. “I can’t help you.”
“Buck—”
“The last time I helped out, those bastards shot me.”
“You made a deal with mercenaries to spy on Saylor. You’re lucky they didn’t kill you, which they would have if Zain hadn’t saved our asses.” Greer hitched out a hip. “Four people are dead, Buck, including one of Chase’s teammates and one of my dep…”
She swallowed. She couldn’t say it. Couldn’t get her tongue to work. “I know you were right next to where Eli was murdered, last night. And I know you never park this rig unless you’re investigating a theory. So, show me.”
He frowned, opening the door a bit wider. “Show you what?”
“All the photos you took. All the different walls you’ve got inside.”
He stood a bit straighter. “I don’t have any.”
“The sheriff’s department bought you this motorhome as a show of appreciation for your cooperation in our last endeavor. I can just as easily impound it. Now, are you inviting me in, or am I’m pushing past you?”
Buck paled, his hand holding the door trembling. “Fine, but… I didn’t see anything. I swear. Not before…”
Greer backed up, swung open the door, then followed Buck inside. She got a whiff of stale coffee and vinegar, most of the light blocked by cardboard taped over the windows. Photos and trail-cam footage cluttered the walls, a number of old maps pinned off to one side. “You’ve set up your own dark room. That’s new.”
Buck shuffled on his feet as Chase closed in behind her, tall, unmoving. That death vibe rolling off him in waves. He scanned the walls, frowned.
