Dakota Meltdown

He nodded and followed her into the dark room, scanning the interior for any clues to this woman. Her suitcase stood open on one of the two queen-size beds, the contents a jumble of clothes and toiletries.

“Pack in a hurry?” he asked, settling into a chair in the corner of the room, thinking he really should march himself back down the hall to the lobby. But he wanted to know more about this woman who could knock him on his butt and still look like a lost little girl.

“When the assignment came through last night, I only took time to throw in the necessities.” She grabbed clothes and underwear and headed for the bathroom. “Give me two minutes.”

Nick stood, strolled across the commercial carpeting to the window on the far side and pushed the curtain aside. The skies had cleared and the sun shone brightly on the fresh layer of snow. It made him want to go out and stand in it. Nick didn’t like staying inside any more than he had to, but the weather in North Dakota forced people inside for long periods. He didn’t know how they did it. Now living in Norfolk, Virginia, and having spent most of his life on the southeast coast where winter may have included a few days of snow that melted within hours, he couldn’t comprehend living inside for six months out of the year.

The sound of the shower captured Nick’s attention, drawing his mind away from the case to the newest member of his team. The thought of water gliding over her pale, smooth skin had his blood burning a path south. He could still feel the warmth of her beneath his fingertips, the smooth wetness of her swimsuit pressed against his clothing. And that kiss. A mistake and definitely a distraction he could live without.

If he hadn’t already been burned by a woman, he might consider kissing her again. He sensed passion beneath her feisty exterior. He’d caught a glimpse of it under her enthusiasm for her job and her concern for her hometown. His body would like nothing more than to explore and discover just how passionate she was, on a purely physical level.

Nick turned back to the window. Brenna Jensen was part of his job, not his life. The last time he’d made a woman part of his life, he’d made her his wife. And what had that brought him? He’d lost his home, his marriage, his partner and best friend, but mostly his faith in women. Brenna Jensen was definitely hands-off. He had a case to solve and he had to contain any wayward attraction he might feel for the gutsy blonde.

Just as the door to the bathroom opened, his cell phone buzzed and vibrated in the belt clip on his hip. He flipped the phone open and pressed it to his ear.

Brenna stepped from the steamy interior of the bathroom dressed in a pair of black wool trousers and a formfitting turtleneck sweater that hugged the swells of her breasts to perfection. Despite her questioning look, Nick had to turn away to concentrate on who was calling.

“Nick, this is Paul. We have a body.”

Chapter Four

After the investigative team had collected every bit of evidence they could, the ice-fishing shanty had been pushed aside, allowing the recovery team to retrieve the body. Brenna stood beside Nick Tarver, staring down into the drilled-out ice. The wind whipped her hair across her eyes, blocking out the horror of what she saw.

Dr. Janine Drummond’s white, naked body bobbed in and out of view of the hole drilled through two feet of solid ice into Eagle Lake.

Brenna turned away, bile rising in her throat. She couldn’t lose her stomach. Not in front of these people. A professional kept her cool.

This was a woman she’d known and respected for years. In past cases she’d investigated, the victims had been people she’d never met.

Dave Jorgensen and Mike Koenig stood in their insulated coveralls and Elmer Fudd hats, their faces pale and pinched, giving their statement to Sheriff Tindale.

While Mike stared at the ice, Dave did all the talking. “Once the storm cleared, we thought we’d get out here before the ice started melting. This was one of the holes we’d drilled last weekend. As soon as we saw what was down there, we got in the truck and headed to town to call. It ’bout gave us a heart attack, it scared us so bad. But we didn’t kill that lady and put her down there. No, sir, we didn’t.”

“It’s okay, Dave,” Sheriff Tindale said.

A detective snapped pictures of the hole and the dead woman, the camera clicks muffled by the westerly breeze blowing across the frozen lake.

All Brenna could see were the pale arms and torso of Dr. Drummond snagged by Dave’s fishing line. A quiver shook Brenna’s body so hard her teeth rattled.

Agent Tarver leaned close. “You okay?”

Without glancing up, Brenna nodded. She wanted to ignore the man. Instead, she studied him in her peripheral vision.

His dark hair fell across the deep frown lines on his forehead and his ears were turning pink from the cold. The black jacket and black hair were a stark contrast to the white landscape, making him seem larger than life.

She didn’t want to notice him, didn’t want to acknowledge his existence. But he stood beside her, the faint scent of his aftershave wafting her way as the wind shifted. Again she shivered, although not from the cold.

Tarver nudged her elbow with his gloved hand. “Want to get out of here?”

His touch jump-started her numb brain and she realized she wasn’t doing anything to solve this case by staring at a dead woman. “No.”

“Since you’re from around here, why don’t you ask the questions? They’ll trust you more.”

She nodded and made her way over to Dave. “Mr. Jorgensen, do you leave your hut out here all winter?”

“Yes, ma’am. Been out here since last November. Even left the auger all locked up inside. Didn’t think anyone would break in and use it.”

“See any tire tracks or footprints nearby?” she asked.

“No, but then it snowed pretty heavy.”

“Thanks, Dave.” Brenna moved on to one of the sheriff’s deputies tasked with gathering the evidence. “Make sure you brush away loose snow. If someone drove out here, there should be packed snow tracks crushed into the ice beneath the fresh snow.”

He glanced up at the bright sunshine beating down on them. “If we’re gonna do it, it’ll have to be soon. That sun will melt the evidence, otherwise.”

Already, the new snow that hadn’t blown away with storm winds was soft and slushy. Brenna stared up at the clear blue sky. “If the sun keeps shining and the weather starts warming, it won’t be long before the ice thins.” As if to emphasize her point, a loud crack ripped through the air like the sound of a shotgun blast.

Nick jumped, his brow dropping into a fierce frown. “What the hell was that?”

“The ice cracking,” Brenna answered, ducking to hide a hint of a smile.

“Cracking?” He glanced around at the others. “And nobody’s worried about falling in?”

“Not yet,” Dave Jorgensen said. “The ice is still thick. It’ll hold.”

Brenna looked up at Nick, her lips twitching. “Ready to go?”

“Ready when you are.” He inhaled deeply and rolled his neck and shoulders, clearly uncomfortable out on the frozen lake. “Where to?”

“I want to talk to Dr. Drummond’s neighbors.”

“The police department interviewed the folks on both sides, across the street and behind them. No one saw anything.”

“Then we need to ask again.” She snapped her collar up to block the wind. “There’s got to be something.”

“For once, I couldn’t agree with you more.” Nick slid on the ice and Brenna put a hand out to steady him. When they reached her Jeep, he held her door. “Just can’t see the attraction in ice fishing. I always thought of lakes as places you swim or boat in, not drive on in a one-ton vehicle.”

Brenna climbed behind the wheel. “I never thought of it as a place to ditch a body. Makes me wonder where he’s left the others. Should we be examining all the fishing holes in the lake?”

“Not a bad thought. I’ll check with the sheriff.” Nick walked away across the ice, each step measured and careful.

Brenna hid a smile. At least he was game to step out on the ice. Some people wouldn’t dream of it. The thought of the ice cracking and dumping them into freezing waters was more than most cared to face.

As Nick climbed into the passenger seat, the image of Janine Drummond surfaced in Brenna’s thoughts and she shuddered.

“Are you cold?” He closed his door and peeled his gloves off, holding his hands to the heater vent.

“No, just chilled by what we found.”