Beyond Power Connie Mann
Visit to download the full and correct content document: https://ebookmass.com/product/beyond-power-connie-mann-2/
Thankyou for downloading thisSourcebooks
eBook!
Youare justone clickawayfrom…
•Beingthe firstto hear aboutauthor happenings
•VIPdeals andsteals
•Exclusive giveaways
•Free bonus content
•Earlyaccess to interactive activities
•Sneakpeeks atour newesttitles
Happyreading! CLICK HERE TOSIGN UP Books. Change. Lives.
Copyright©2020byConnieNeumann
Cover andinternal design©2020bySourcebooks
Cover artbyKrisKeller
SourcebooksandthecolophonareregisteredtrademarksofSourcebooks.
All rightsreserved.Nopartofthisbookmaybereproducedinanyformor byanyelectronicor mechanical meansincludinginformationstorageandretrieval systems exceptinthecaseofbrief quotationsembodiedincritical articlesor reviews withoutpermissioninwritingfromitspublisher, Sourcebooks.
Thecharactersandeventsportrayedinthisbookarefictitiousor areusedfictitiously.Anysimilarity toreal persons,livingor dead,ispurelycoincidental andnotintendedbytheauthor.
All brandnamesandproductnamesusedinthisbookaretrademarks,registeredtrademarks,or trade namesoftheir respectiveholders.Sourcebooksisnotassociatedwithanyproductor vendor inthis book.
PublishedbySourcebooksCasablanca,animprintofSourcebooks P.O.Box4410,Naperville,Illinois60567-4410 (630) 961-3900 sourcebooks.com
FrontCover
TitlePage
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Contents
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Acknowledgments
Excerptfrom Walking the Edge
Chapter 1
AbouttheAuthor BackCover
For Leslie Santamaria, incredibly talented writer, amazing human, and priceless friend, who always knows what I meant to say. Cheering you on every step of the way and thanking God we get to ride the roller coaster together!
Chapter1
Ifonlyhumans were as predictable as the monkeys she’d come backto Ocala to study. DelilahPaige Atwoodtooka sipofher coffee andsighed.Expressioncarefullybland,she studiedthe patrons atthe Corner Caféwhilesheuploadedher latestbatchofphotos andresearchnotes usingthefreeWi-Fi.At least part of her planhad worked. No one appeared to have seenthroughher disguise or questioned the name Delilah Paige. Equally noteworthy, no one from her antigovernment, paranoid family had burstthroughthedoor withgunsblazing,furiousthatshe’ddaredtocomebacktotown.
It was the other part that worried her. She’d spent every morning of the past two weeks eavesdropping on the locals, and she still had no idea how to find her family. Her sister would be sixteenintwoweeks,whichmeantDelilahwasrunningoutoftime.
She shut down her laptop and had just tucked her field journals into their zippered compartment whenthebell abovethedoor jangledmerrily.Thewhisper ofawarenessthatsliddownher spinetold her withoutlookingthatJoshTanner “Hollywood”tohisfriends hadjustwalkedin.
His eyes litup whenhe spotted her, and thatbreath-stealinggrinflustered her, justas itdid. Every. Single. Time. While he ordered coffee, she reorganized her backpack, hoping he didn’t notice her ridiculous blush.After her isolatedchildhood, she’dspentyears studyingpeople’s social interactions like a researchproject, desperate to learnhow to behave, whatto say, how to relate to others. She’d learned to lookpeople inthe eye, go ondates, and eventhoughtherselfinlove once, buteveryshred ofher hard-wonpoisevanishedwhenever hewalkedin.
He…unsettledher.Andintriguedher inequal measure. Somethingabouthiskindeyes,hissometimes-sadeyes,whisperedtoapartofher shehadn’tknown existed. To saynothingofhis movie-star good looks and the intimate smile thatmade her fumble and stammer. Still, she kept showing up at the café, hoping for more of his fun, flirty banter, despite the uncomfortable fact that he was FWC, a Florida Fish & Wildlife Conservation Commission officer. His uniformalone shouldhave senther running,butsomehow,the manwearingithadsnuckunder her defensesandtemptedher tolinger over her coffeecup.
You have more important things to do,her mindchided. Five minutes won’t change anything,her heartcountered.
It was selfish, she knew, to put her wants above Mary for even a second, but she couldn’t make
herselfleave.Notyet.Tenminutes.Nomore.
“Good morning. How’s my favorite monkey researcher today?” Josh asked as he strolled to her table andturneda chair around.He straddledit,sippingthe coffee he’djustpurchasedandeyeingher over therim.
She raised a brow and senthima cheekygrin. “I’mprettysure I’mthe only monkeyresearcher you know.”Wasthatreallyher voice,soundingall low andsultry?
“True,butyou’restill myfavorite.”
She laughed and gripped her coffee cup as she tried to think of something witty to say. He’d propped his sunglasses on top of his head, and she couldn’t help studying the khaki uniform that molded to himlike a second skin. She dragged her gaze away fromhis chest in time to realize he’d beenstudyingher,too.
“Youhavepaintonyour fingers.”Hepointed.
Delilah glanced down at the traces of dark green she’d missed when she’d scrubbed her hands. “Thankfully, mostofit’s onthe camper.” She senthimwhatshe hoped was a casual smile. “It’s done and itlooks good, ifIdo sayso myself.” Gettingthe camper habitable had beenstep one, so she and Marywouldhaveaplacetostay.
“I’msureitlooksgreat.Can’twaittoseeit.Sowhereareyouheadedtoday?”
Her stomach did a little flip. Did he really want to see her camper and spend time with her away from here? Or was that just Josh being a nice guy and making conversation? She’d never seen him flirtwithanyone excepther. And he always seemed to end up sittingather table. Butchattingover coffeeandinvitinghimintoher homeweretwoverydifferentthings.
She couldn’t begin to think about all that right now. “I figured I’d swing by Tanner’s Outpost and rentakayakfromyour sister,seeifIcantrackdownoneoftheother monkeytroopstoday.Babiesare startingto arrive,” she added, grinning. She would also scout out the area, checkif anyone had seen the Atwoods recently. She wasn’toverlyoptimistic theywould tell her eveniftheyknew, butshe had to try. And she’d keep tryinguntil she found them. “The other troop I’ve beenwatchingthis weekhas beenhangingoutjustsouthofthe Silver River, near one ofthe trails inthe state park. Lots ofpeople havegatheredoutthere,watchingthem.”
Hestraightened,suddenlyserious.“Haveyoufoundanyonefeedingthem?”
Frustration washed over her. “Unfortunately, yes. I tried to educate the family. They’re from Michigan, so I likened feedingthe monkeys to what happens if youfeed bears. I thinkI got through.” She hoped. This was why her research mattered so much. She wanted to prove that instances of socalled aggression toward humans would be severely lessened, if not eliminated, if people quit offeringthemfood.
“DidIhear yousaymonkeys?”another voiceasked.
Delilah looked up, and all her instincts went on alert as a tall, thirtysomething man with thinning hair pulled out a chair and sat downat the table. Not as tall as Josh, his pale skinand doughyshape
said he spentmostofhis time ata desksomewhere. He extended a hand across the table, and Delilah hesitated before she shook it, instantly recoiling from his damp palm. He didn’t seem to notice her reaction, but Josh did. He grinned and sent her a flirty wink that made butterflies swoop in her stomach.
“CaseyWells, withthe local paper.” He hitched a thumb over his shoulder. “Folks sayyou’re from FloridaStateUniversity,studyingour Silver Springsmonkeysthissummer.”
Wary, Delilah nodded. “It’s part of my master’s programin anthropology.” She didn’t tell himher grant was from the National Geographic Society or exactly what her study of the rhesus macaques entailed. She’d earned her disdain of the media the old-fashioned way she’d inherited it fromher government-fearingfamily.
Wells nodded. “Good for you.” He glanced between the two of them, smirked. “I’m just curious. After yesterday’s incident, do youagree withthe Florida Fish& Wildlife ConservationCommission thatthemonkeysshouldberemovedbecausethey’renotindigenous?”
Delilahfroze,andachill sliddownher back.“Whatincident?”
Wells smiled smugly. “There’s a video online that has gone viral, showingthe monkeys charginga familyoftouristsinthestatepark.”
Was that the same family she’d spoken to? She narrowed her gaze. “And did they feed the monkeys?”
Wells shrugged. “I couldn’t say. I’m just going by what I saw online, like everyone else.” He paused. “But getting back to my earlier question, will your study be for or against the monkeys’ removal?”
“Since rhesus macaques have been here longer than many of the human families in this area, I believeweshouldleavethemalone.How aretheydifferentfromtheCracker cowsoriginallybrought here bythe Spanish? Or the wild pigs, descended fromthose DeSoto broughtwithhim? Whendo we stop calling a species ‘non-native’?” She felt her voice rising, so she swallowed whatever else she mighthave said. Yes, she was passionate aboutthe monkeys, determined to protectthem, butshe was alogical researcher representingprestigiousorganizations,notanuttyradical spoutingemotion.
CaseyWells smiled widely. “Well said, Ms. Paige.” He turned to Josh. “Care to comment onthat, Officer Tanner?”
Josh sent her a look that said I’m sorry before turning to Wells. “While I agree that the monkeys have been here a very long time, they are not without issues. Managing the growing population is complicated. Non-native species like these can have a negative impact on the native populations alreadyinthis area.There is alsoconcernaboutthe herpes Bvirus theycarry.” WhenDelilahopened her mouthtoargue,he added,“Thoughthere is nodocumentedevidence ofthe virus beingtransmitted frommonkeys to humans. Right now, though, the biggest concern centers around signs of aggression towardhumans.”
Delilah stiffened at his political-sounding response, and all her childhood warnings about law
enforcement, about how cops said one thing and did another, came rushing back. She should never have let her guard downaround someone inuniform, no matter how nice he seemed or how fast her heartbeatwhenever hewas around.Shetookabreathanddeliberatelykepther toneeven.“So-called aggression toward humans is a growing concern because people think ‘don’t feed the monkeys’ doesn’tapplytothem.”
Despite her carefullymodulated tone, the café suddenlywent quiet, all eyes turned their way. Josh glanced around before he looked back at her. “On that, we agree. Many of the issues would resolve themselvesifpeoplestoppedfeedingthemonkeys or anyother wildlife.”
Delilahstood and finished loadingher backpack. She felt far too exposed witheveryone watching them, too disappointed inJosh. Hearinghimspout the official FWC partyline completelythrew her, since tourists came to Tanner’s Outpost fromall over to see the monkeys. Add her increasingworry for Mary,andshecouldeasilysaythingsshe’dregret.Besides,noneofthismatteredrightnow.
“Look, Delilah,” Joshbegan, just as his cell chirped. He checked the screenand muttered, “I need to go.” Whenhe looked up, his eyes held apology. “Iwantus to finishthis conversation.” He glanced at Wells, then back at her. “Alone.” His phone chirped again. “I’m sorry.” He stepped closer and squeezed her hand, sending a little zing up her arm. “We’ll talk later. Be safe out there today.” And thenhewasgone.
Delilahblinkedinsurprisethathe’dtouchedher andagainwhensherealizedhow muchshe’dliked it. As he walked away, his clean scent lingered in her nostrils, and she wondered what else he’d wantedtosay.
Wells shot to his feet. “He makes a valid point. Aren’t you worried about being out in the forest alone?”
Delilahslungher backpackover her shoulder, irritated thatWells was still probingfor information. “Can’t think of a reason to be.” She knew what he meant, but she wouldn’t encourage further conversation.
“Well, after that other researcher was beaten so badly last year…” He let the statement trail off. “Theynever foundoutwhodidit,didthey?”
Delilah figured he knew the answer to that as well as she did. But she had tracked down Vanessa Camden, who hinted that the media had exaggerated what happened. She had wanted to go home Vanessahatedbeingintheforest sothathadbeentheperfectexcuse.Delilahdidn’ttell Wellsanyof that.
“The other study was aimed at the dangers associated with the rhesus macaques remaining in the area and stronglysupported their removal. Iview the situationfroma differentperspective and have no desire to see that happen. People who support them staying would have no problem with my study.”Shehitchedupher chin.“So,no,I’mnotworried.”
“I hope you’re right,” Wells said before he tucked his notebook into his shirt pocket and walked away.
Delilahheaded outside, scanningthe parkinglot before she climbed into her pickup. Joshhad said he had to go, but a little part of her had hoped he’d wait for her. She wanted to hear what he had to say.
She hit the highway and forced herself to take several deep breaths to settle the emotional stew churning in her gut. She couldn’t think about Josh and the butterflies he unleashed in her stomach or her disappointmentthathedidn’tshareher opiniononthemonkeys. Therewereonlytwoweeksleftuntil Mary’sbirthday.
An hour later, Delilah sat in her rented kayak on the Ocklawaha River, using her camera’s zoomto panthe trees onbothsides of the waterway. As she did, she mentallyranthroughher list of options. Trackingher father downfor a confrontationand shouting, “How could youhave done that?!” would make her feel better, maybe, but wouldn’t faze himin the least, not even if she pointed her Glock at himas she didso.Itwouldn’tconvince himtoletMarygo,either.Nota “mere” woman,actingoutof emotion.
JohnHenrywas all about control. He was harshand ruthless and tookdeliberate action, believing he had absolute power. He feared no one. She’d bet her camper that he would dismiss her without a word,justashehadbefore.Unlessshefoundawaytolevel theplayingfield.
Darkmemories ofhis cold indifference to pain bothphysical and emotional chilled her, a stark contrasttothecalmofaquietsummer morning.Shepusheditasideandlookedaroundatthebeautiful scenery while she considered and discarded various next steps. The sun beat down, and humidity shimmeredinthestill air.Therewasnobreeze,sotheriver wassmoothasglass.
Liberally coated in essential oils to keep the mosquitos away, Delilah lowered her camera and listened. There. Was thatthem? She could usuallyhear the rhesus macaques chatteringinthe treetops longbeforeshecouldseethem.
Several quickstrokes toward the opposite shoreline and she raised her camera again, listened. Yes. Now she heard them, thoughshe still couldn’tlocate theminher viewfinder. Theywere too far back inthetreestoseefromher vantagepoint.
Knowing how sound traveled over the water, she quietly paddled toward shore and beached her kayak between two cypress stumps, carefully securing the rope to a tree, lest the current tug it free. She slungher backpackover her shoulder andgingerlysteppedontothe bank,usingthe cypress knees toavoidthemuddyspots.
She slowly walked inland, following their chatter and searching for telltale movements high up in the tree canopy, butshe also studied the ground. Monkeysign, or as she and Marycalled it, “monkey poo,”indicatedshewasintherightarea.
Thechatteringstopped.
After she checked a fallen log for snakes and bugs, she sat down to wait. Sometimes, the quiet
***
meantthey’dmovedon,butother times,itmeanttheywerewatching.
She tried to ignore the twitchy feel of unknown eyes studying her by taking slow, deep breaths. Withintwo minutes, her damp shirt stuckto her skin, so she pulled it awayand flapped the fabric to create a breeze. She remembered the way Josh’s appreciative glance had run over her this morning, just as she’d run hers over him. The way his uniformshirt hugged his torso had made her throat go dry. But it was more than his looks that turned her from intelligent, well-spoken researcher into stammeringidiot. His slow, thoroughperusal made her acutelyaware ofherselfas a woman, and that flusteredher.She’dnever beentheprettyone.Shewasthesmartone,theonevoted“mostlikelytobe inthelibraryonaFridaynight”byher classmates.
He never seemed to notice her social awkwardness, though, engagingher inflirtyconversationand sendingher alazy,dimpledsmilethatalwaysmadeheatwashover her body. Whycouldn’tshestopthinkingabouthim?
The monkeys started chatteringagain, and seconds later, she heard a noise behind her. She jumped toher feet,spunaround.
It took a few beats to recognize what sounded like teenage voices, male and female. She caught a flashofmovementandstartedinthatdirection.Maybetheycouldtell her aboutanynearbycampsites.
“Excuseme!Hello?”
Instead of stopping, theytookoff into the trees. Hadn’t theyheard her? Delilahranfaster, tryingto keeptheminsight.Another glimpseandshespottedtwomountainbikes.“Wait!”
The girl sent a quick glance over her shoulder as she followed the young man. Late teens, she’d been wearing a long cotton dress, her hair in a braid down her back, similar to what Delilah had wornasachild.
When they disappeared, Delilah slowed to a stop, defeated. But then she saw their tire tracks and smiled. She could follow a trail like that blindfolded. Theywere probablycampinginthe area, and given the girl’s dress, she’d bet money they knew her family. She wasn’t sure they’d say anything abouttheAtwoods,butasthiswasthefirstleadshe’dfound,shesetouttotrackthemdown.
The scent of a smoldering campfire made her quicken her steps as a wave of memories crashed over her.Shewasclose.
She raninto the small clearingand stopped short, surprised there was no one there. She didn’t see anybicycle tracks, either, so the teens must have veered offearlier and she’d missed it. So muchfor her greattrackingskills.
Pushing her disappointment aside, she looked around. Someone had been here recently. Her eyes caught the small grooves high up on two tree trunks, and the hair on the back of her neck stood up. Theylookedjustliketheonesher father carvedtosecureMama’slaundryline.
Don’t jump to conclusions.
She backed up, and the ground beneathher right heel gave way. Arms flailing, she lunged forward and landed on all fours. She stayed that way for a moment, breath heaving, before she carefully
climbed to her feet and studied the leaves and branches that had camouflaged a deep hole in the ground. Dread and elationwarred inside her as the truthdawned. Above her was a tall tree, the kind her father always used to raise their tarp-covered food overnight to keep it safe from foraging animals.The pitbelow the one she’dalmostfalleninto was designedtonetanother meal whenan unwarycritter followedthescentandfounditselftrappedinthehole.
She’d found her family’s campsite. Theyhadn’tleftthearea.
The smoldering embers meant they’d abandoned this site in a hurry, though. Otherwise, her father wouldhavesmotheredthefiremorethoroughly.He’dnever riskstartingaforestfire.
Delilahstepped closer and crouched down. Somethingpoked out of the dirt and ashes at the fire’s edge.Shestudiedit,andher heartalmoststopped.
No That couldn’t be Could it?
She grabbed a branchand used it to poke at the object, thendragged it to the edge of the fire ring. Her hand shook when she reached down and then held it up with two fingers, blinking rapidly, convincedher eyesweredeceivingher.
Her heartbeat pulsed in her ears as she ran her fingers over the charred remains of a homemade doll. The brown fabric dress was mostly intact, as was the soot-covered cloth face. Embroidered eyes stared at her like childhood memories and tried to yank her back in time, but she pushed them aside.
Focus. Make sure.
She swallowed hard and slowly turned the doll over. There, on the back of the neck, was a small heart, embroidered in red thread. It was identical to the one Mama had embroidered on Delilah’s doll. She’d later added one to Mary’s, saying it was a kiss from their Mama. Memories of Mary playingwithbothdolls, settingthemside byside for a tea party, flashed throughDelilah’s mind. This belongedtoher sister.Therewasnoquestion.
Time stood still and thenshotbackward before itflipped her world upside downwitha speed that madeher dizzy.
Her father hadburnedMary’sdoll.
Dear Sweet Jesus. It’s happening again.
Delilahturnedher headandthrew up,heavinguntil therewasnothingleftinher stomach.
Shewipedthebackofatremblinghandover her mouth,thenpulledaplasticbagfromher backpack andcarefullyplacedthedoll inside.
Witha last lookaround, she ranbackto her kayak, feet poundingintime to her heart, and paddled backtoTanner’sOutpostasfastasshecould.Sheneededher truck.
Forty-five minutes later, hands clutchingthe steeringwheel, Delilahsped throughthe forest, the truck fishtailingandher mindspinning.Shefinallylookedaroundandrealizedshe’dblindlyheadedtoward
***
thecampsitewhereshe’dlastseenher familyeightyearsago.Her heartstill knew thesewoods,knew the trees and abandoned cabins and all the various landmarks thatguided those who lived offthe grid and under the radar. She’d checked here once before and found nothing, butmaybe now, they’d come back.
She stopped a half mile before she reached the campsite and tucked her truck behind a clump of scrub palm. She went the rest of the way on foot, dodging sandy spots that would leave footprints. The closer she got, the faster her heartpounded. The anger she’d locked ina sturdymetal boxroared upandthreatenedtochokeher.How couldher father dothesamethingtoMarythathe’ddonetoher? She stopped, hands on her knees as she breathed deeply to steady herself. If she didn’t handle this right,she’dnever getMaryoutofthere. Control your emotions and you control the situation.
Head high, she marched into the small clearingand stopped short. Theyweren’t there. Since she’d beendrawnbackto the place her world had completelychanged, she’d foolishlyimagined it would bring themback, too. She snorted. Her father didn’t have a sentimental bone in his body. He forced thefamilytomovetheir campsiteregularlysimplytokeepanyonefromsnoopingaround. Shetookasteadyingbreath.Therewasoneplacetheyalwaysreturnedto,though.Maybethey’dleft a clue at the storage bunker her father had built when they’d first come to Florida. You couldn’t dig toodeeplyoutherebeforethingsgotmuddy,butJohnHenryhadfoundasmall depressionintheearth, whatappearedtobetheremnantsofasinkhole,andhadusedittoconceal someoftheir supplies.Her familywasn’twhatpeople called “preppers,” so theydidn’thoard piles offood and nonperishables. Instead,theyweresurvivalistswhoknew how toliveofftheland.
As she headed toward the nearbybunker, the smell hit her first. She covered her nose and tried to pinpoint where it was comingfrom. Once you’d smelled a dead animal, younever forgot the stench. Outhere,decompositiondidn’ttakelong.
She movedcloser,scanningthe area,realizingwhatever itwas,itmustbe a larger animal.Possibly adeer,maybeevenahog.Sheeasedaroundastandoftreesandalmosttrippedover thebody. And it wasn’t an animal.
She breathed in through her mouth and forced herself to squat down and look closer. He’d obviouslybeena hunter, giventhe bright orange vest. She squeezed her eyes shut. Half his face was missing,aswerehugechunksofhischest.Hewasclearlydead.
Her head snapped up as she felt a vibration in the ground followed by a low rumble. An icy chill slid downher back. She knew thatsound. “Staycalm,” she muttered to herselfas she slowlyeased to astandingposition.
Moving nothing but her eyes, she scanned the area and spotted the black bear heading in her direction. Male probably, based on its size. Normally, she’d make a racket to let the bear know she washere,butifhe’dpickedupthescentofthehunter,shedidn’twanthimseeingher ascompetition. She couldn’t run, either. If you run, you ’ re prey, her father’s voice reminded her. She slowly backedup,one quietstepata time,andeasedbehinda tree,outofthe bear’s line ofsight.She forced
herselftotake quietbreaths as she meltedfarther andfarther intothe trees.She didn’ttake offrunning until shewasconfidentthebear couldn’thear or smell her anymore.
She burstinto the clearingand skidded to a stop whenshe spotted two white pickups parked bythe bunker. Crap!
She slipped behind a tree and tried to catchher breathwhile she studied the scene. Two menwere transferringastackofwoodencratesfromonepickup’sbedintoher family’sbunker whiletwoothers watched.Nexttothemsatanopenblacksatchel withwhatlookedlikestacksofmoneyinside.
Oneofthemengrabbedanautomaticrifleandputittohis shoulder.Shejerkedbackbehindthetree and then ducked at the sound of gunfire. Bark flew just above her head. She peeked out again, and whena second manraised his rifle and tookaim, she realized theywere usingthe tree nextto her as target practice. She had to get out of here. She must have made a noise, because the first man’s head snappeduplikeadeer scentingdanger.Delilahfrozeastheir eyesmetandheld.
Her brother Aaronhad aged inthe pasteightyears and now sported a full beard. Buthis eyes were still thesame,notjustthecolor buttheharshnessinthem.
She started to call his name before itdawned onher thathe didn’trecognize her. The lasttime he’d laid eyes onher, her hair reached her backside and she’d beenwearinganankle-lengthdress. Now, here, with short hair, wearing “worldly” clothes, a ball cap, and sunglasses, he’d have no reason to suspectitwasher.
One of the other men turned slightly, and Delilah gasped at the sight of her father. John Henry had aged, too, but still held himself ramrod straight, no softening anywhere. She’d seen the third man at the café but didn’t recognize the fourth. While her mind scrambled for what to do, Aaron seemed to have no such trouble. He lifted the gun and continued firing, as did the other man. When her father sighted a weapon, Delilahscrambled backward and dove behind the nearesttree, thenleaped behind another and another, desperate to stayoutoftheir line ofsight. She crouched low and tore offinto the forest, zigzaggingthe wayshe’d beentaught. Barkrained downand sand spitup as she ran, the sound ofgunfireinher wake.
Chapter2
If Aaron had been trying to kill her, she’d be dead, Delilah told herself as she ran, though that did little to calm her racing heart. Same went for her father. Both were excellent marksmen. When she finally made it back to her truck, winded and shaken, more of her childhood training kicked in. She grabbeda palmfrondandusedittowipe outher tracks.As she backedtowardher vehicle,she heard thebuzzofanairplane.
She finished erasing her trail and then hopped into the truck and sat quietly, waiting for it to pass overhead.Whensheglancedupthroughthetreesandsaw theFish&Wildlifelogo,her heartpounded harder.
Oncethesoundoftheplanereceded,sheputthetruckingear anddrovearoundincircles tobesure she wasn’tfollowed backto the tiny1970s vintage camper she’d picked up for almostnothing. She’d set it in a thick stand of trees ten miles fromwhere she’d grown up so she wouldn’t run across any family members unless she meant to and had painted the outside dark green to camouflage it further. The whole thingwas barelybigenoughtoturnaroundin,butgiventhe size ofthe camper their family hadlivedin,itwasplentybig.
Rightnow,itwastheonlysafeplaceshecouldthinktogo.Her handsshookasshecrankedopenall the windows to letoutthe old, mustysmell commontoanythinginFlorida thatwas closedupawhile. Afterward,she still feltlike the walls were closingin,andshe couldn’tseemto catchher breath.She debated firing up the generator so she could run the small window air conditioner, but both made a racket,whichcouldcarrythroughthe forest.Plus,the generator was almostoutoffuel,andshe didn’t wanttohavetocarrymoregascansouthere.
She poured a glass ofwater and shookher head at her racing, disjointed thoughts. She had to calm down, thinklogically. She looked around the interior, wonderingwhatJoshwould thinkwhenhe saw it. Assuming, of course, she decided to invite him. She was inordinately proud of the way it had turned out. The brown paneling was now a crisp white, and the green-and-gold curtains had been replaced with pretty flowered sheets she’d tossed over the rods. Until Josh, she’d never considered inviting anyone to see where she lived a lifetime’s training and all that never mind a handsome manwhomadeher palmssweatandher stomachdobackflips. What was wrong with her? She sank down on the sofa and dropped her head in her hands. She
couldn’t use Josh to avoid what she’d seen. She should call him right now, report the man’s death. Shesqueezedher eyesshuttoblockouttheimages.
But was the man’s death somehow connected to her family? They had never been part of a formal militia group, but they had definitely made alliances with other like-minded families and procured weapons when asked. She’d started going along on deliveries when she was twelve years old, providing cover. But the stacks of crates she’d seen earlier took things to a whole different level. What were they up to? Had they recognized her? If so, would they take off again? Maybe leave the area for good? She swallowed hard. She couldn’t let that happen, or she might never find Maryand Mamaagain.
Shepickedupher cell phone,thensetitdown,indecisiongnawingather.
Memories of the man’s mangled body made her stomach lurch, but she forced her sorrow and revulsionaside so her scientist’s braincould lookat the situationfroma clinical distance. Whyhad the bear attacked? Had the hunter provoked himinsome way? She’d studied enoughanimals to know thisbehavior wasunusual.Unlesstheyhadaverygoodreason,bearsdidnotattackhumans. Mind racing, she grabbed her phone again. She should call Josh, let him know what she’d seen. Despite her ingrained mistrustoflaw enforcement, everythingshe’d learned abouthimsaid he was a good man. Right now, though, callinghimwould meanquestions, so manyquestions she didn’t want toanswer.
Shehoppedupandpacedthetinyspace,tryingtodecidewhattodo.
Florida Fish & Wildlife officer Josh Tanner looked out the window of the Cessna 182 and scanned the section of the Ocala National Forest below him, fighting his irritation. Normally, he enjoyed takingthe FWC plane up for special assignments or searchand rescue, a nice change fromhis usual patrol by truck, boat, or ATV. Today, though, when Hunter Boudreau, his lieutenant and friend, had asked himto follow up ona hot tip about a significant new marijuana grow inthe northwest section, Joshhad almost growled at the timing. He’d wanted to finishhis conversationwithDelilah, answer all thosequestionshe’dseeninher prettyblueeyesafter Wellsquestionedhimaboutthemonkeys.He wished he had her number, butthe wayshe sometimes froze whenthe door to the café opened, like a rabbitpoised to run, had made himcautious. Hopefully, she’d be atthe café tomorrow morningso he couldexplain.Her opinionofhimmattered,morethanhewascomfortablewith,butthereitwas. He checked his divers’ watch and figured he could make a few more passes and still get to the ForestCommunityCenter for basketball practice. He never wanted the boys to thinkhe was blowing themoff.
Josh’s frustration grew as he scanned both sides of the river. He couldn’t find the location their anonymous caller had described. Giventhe dense foliage and vegetation, unless FWC or some other law enforcement agency happened to fly directly overhead, no one would ever know the grow was
***
there.
He had justmade another pass near where the Atwoods used to camp whenhe heard several bursts ofgunfire. His eyes flicked over the ground, tryingto locate where the shots were comingfrom. Were theyaimingat him? JohnHenryAtwood’s radical leanings kept himonlaw enforcement’s radar, but thiswasn’tlikehimor hisson.
This also wasn’tanywhere near the gunrange, nor was itprivate propertyor huntingseason, when target practice was allowed with a proper backstop. Maybe he’d found the marijuana grow and someonewasn’thappy.
Hecalleddispatchandsearchedfor adirtroadwideenoughtolandtheCessna.
His radio crackled. “Backup en route, 413. Lieutenant Boudreau said not to do anything stupid, Hollywood.”
“10-4. I’mputtingher downjust off Forest Road 11.” He rattled off the GPS coordinates and then focusedonlandingtheplane.
Once onthe ground, he grabbed his rifle and stayed low as he raninto the trees borderingthe road. Thegunfirehadstopped,whichwouldmakeithardtolocatetheshooter or shooters.
Josh made his way toward the Atwoods’former campsite, stopping to listen every few yards. To date, his dealings withthe familyhad beenbriefbut cordial, nodded greetings at the local bait shop. John Henry treated his wife as though she were invisible. She kept her head down, never made eye contact, and walked in her husband’s shadow. Their grown son, Aaron, was on the cocky side, and their teenage daughter, Mary, mimicked her mother’s bodylanguage. Joshdidn’t like it, but it wasn’t his job to evaluate people’s relationships unless he suspected abuse. He’d made a casual survey of bothmother anddaughter andsaw noobvioussigns.
He wasn’treallysurprised to find their campsite empty. He studied the area for a momentand then noticed two sets of tire tracks that appeared to have been made recently. Very recently, since it had rainedyesterdayafternoon.
He stood, sniffed the air. The smell hit him at the same moment the noise registered. He quietly headed inthatdirection, careful notto step ontwigs or make anysuddennoises. He ducked fromtree totreeuntil hesaw theflashofblackandrealizeditwas abear,notahuman.Whereas hemightsneak uponahuman,noisewasthewaytogowhenconfrontingabear.Heshoutedandthrew rocksuntil the bear stopped, turned, and stood onits hind legs to assess the danger. “Get!Go on!Getonoutofhere! Scram!”
Whenthebear hesitated,Joshputhisrifletohisshoulder justincase.
The silence lengthened while the bear made a decision. It looked over its shoulder at what had captureditsattention,thenbackatJosh,andfinallylumberedoffintotheforest.
Josh waited a bit, then headed toward whatever the bear had found. Though they were mainly vegetarians and loved berries, theywere notabove eatingcarrionfor the protein, so Joshexpected a dead animal, perhaps a deer or maybe a possumor a raccoon. He stopped, stared, and it tookhima
minutetoprocessthathewasseeinghumanremainsinstead.
He forced himselfto take a deep breathand pushhis emotions aside. He scanned the body, noticing the bright orange hunter’s vest and the rifle clutched in the man’s hand. He’d have to check if it had been fired, if perhaps the hunter had tried to protect himself and that was what caused the bear to charge.
But first, he used his shoulder radio to call dispatch. “This is 413-Ocala, and I’ve got a code 7 at mylocation. Victimappears to have beenmauled bya bear. Better call the biologist, too. Have him bringabear trap.Bear isstill inthearea.”
“Areyousafe,Tanner?”
“Asfar asIknow.IchasedhimawaysoIcouldgetclosetothebody.”
“Backupshouldbethereinten,Hollywood.Sittight.”
“10-4,thankyou.”
While he waited, Josh studied the body, one ear cocked for sounds of the bear, since it wouldn’t give up its food unless ithad to. Flies were alreadypresent, butno maggots yetthathe could see, so he didn’t think the man had been dead very long, but the medical examiner would determine time of death. Josh pulled on latex gloves and reached for the man’s rifle, sniffed. He checked the barrel. Fullyloaded.
Next, he checked the pockets ofthe brightorange vest. No wallet, buthe found a canofbear spray. Ifyouhad bear sprayinyour pocketand a rifle inyour hand, whythe hell wouldn’tyoufightback? It madenosense.
The man’s vest also held a digital camera and a small notebook. No cell phone. Josh clicked through the photos, surprised to find nothing but pictures of the monkeys. Page after page of the notebookwasfilledwithnotesonmonkeybehavior,alongwithseveral referencestolocations.
He bagged the items and then forced himself to study what was left of the man’s face. He didn’t recognize him, which wasn’t surprising. He certainly didn’t know every hunter who roamed the six hundredthousandacresoftheOcalaNational Foresteveryyear.
Before long, he heard approaching vehicles. FWC officers generally worked alone, but thanks to their computer-aided dispatchsystem, whenhe called in, everyofficer inthe area had heard about it andwouldhaveheadedinhisdirection.
Hunter BoudreauarrivedfirstinhisFWCF-150pickup.Hetookonelookatthebodyandmuttered, “Holycrap,that’satoughwaytogo.”
“Iwas thinkingthe same thing, but it’s weird. The guyhad a rifle inhis hand and bear sprayinhis pocket.Whydidheletthebear getthatclose?Andwhyaren’tthereanydefensivewounds?”
Hunter crouched beside the bodyand studied itas well as the surroundingarea for several minutes, fairly vibrating with intensity. Josh could see himworking his way down his mental checklist. “He haveanyIDonhim?”
“NotthatI’vebeenabletofind.”
Another random document with no related content on Scribd:
ERICA Leea.CHARACTER SPECIFICUS
E , antheris muticis, sub-inclusis; corollis costatis, quadratis, subpollicaribus, luteo-aurantiis; quatuor quinqueve pedalis; foliis senis, maximis, rigidis.
DESCRIPTIO
C laxus, erectus, scaber, quatuor vel quinque pedalis; rami laxi, simplices, longi.
F sena, rigida, obtusa, subtus sulcata, linearia, crassa, petiolis adpressis.
F in ramulis mediis verticillati, spicam formantes, pedunculis brevibus, bracteis tribus ad basin calycis instructis.
C . Perianthium tetraphyllum, foliolis subulatis, concavis, longitudine pedunculi.
C sub-pollicaris, quadrata, costata, luteo-aurantia, laciniis dentatis, reflexis.
S . Filamenta octo capillaria, receptaculo inserta; antheræ muticæ, subinclusæ.
P . Germen cylindricum, sulcatum; stylus filiformis, exsertus; stigma tetragonum.
Habitat ad Caput Bonæ Spei.
Floret a mense Augusti in Januarium.
REFERENTIA
1. Calyx et Corolla.
2. Calyx lente auctus.
3. Stamina et Pistillum.
4. Stamina a Pistillo diducta; anthera una lente aucta.
5. Stylus et Stigma lente aucti.
SPECIFIC CHARACTER
H , with beardless tips, within the blossoms, which are ribbed, foursided, not quite an inch long, and of a yellowish-orange colour; grows four or five feet high; the leaves grow by sixes, are large, and stiff.
DESCRIPTION.
S supple, upright and rough, four or five feet high; the branches are loose, simple and long.
L grow by sixes, are harsh, blunt, furrowed underneath, linear, and thick, having the foot-stalks pressed to the stem.
F grow in whorls, about the middle of the smaller branches, forming a spike, with short foot-stalks, with three floral leaves close to the cup.
E . Cup four-leaved, which are awl-shaped, concave, and the length of the foot-stalk.
B near an inch long, four-sided, ribbed, of a yellowish-orange colour; the segments of the mouth are notched, and bent backward.
C . Eight hair-like threads, fixed into the receptacle; the tips beardless, and just within the. blossom.
P . Seed-vessel cylindrical, and furrowed; shaft thread-shaped, and without the blossom; summit four-cornered.
Native of the Cape of Good Hope.
Flowers from August till January.
REFERENCE
1. The Empalement and Blossom.
2. The Empalement magnified.
3. The Chives and Pointal.
4. The Chives detached from the Pointal, one tip magnified.
5. The Shaft and its Summit magnified.
ERICA
lutea.
CHARACTER SPECIFICUS
E , antheris muticis, inclusis; corollis ovato-acuminatis, luteis; foliis oppositis, triquetris, adpressis.
DESCRIPTIO.
C laxus, filiformis, gracilis, ad basin ramosus; ramuli conferti.
F opposita, linearia, adpressa, triquetra, supra concava, subtus carinata, sulcata, nitida; petiolis brevissimis, adpressis.
F plures, conglomerati, subterminales; pedunculi capillares, lutei; bracteis binis.
C . Perianthium tetraphyllum, foliolis ovatis, acuminatis, luteis, glabris.
C lutea, ovato-acuminata, ore arctata; limbo quadrilobo, subreflexo.
S . Filamenta octo capillaria, corolla dimidio breviora, apice recurvata, receptaculo inserta. Antheræ muticæ, inclusæ, parvæ.
P . Germen cylindricum, sulcatum. Stylus filiformis, purpureus, filamentis duplo longior. Stigma tetragonum.
Habitat ad Caput Bonæ Spei.
Floret a Septembre, in Maium.
REFERENTIA
1. Calyx et Corolla.
2. Calyx, lente auctus.
3. Stamina, et Pistillum.
4. Stamina a Pistillo diducta; anthera una lente aucta.
5. Stylus, et Stigma lente aucta.
SPECIFIC CHARACTER.
H , with beardless tips, within the blossoms; which are of a pointed oval shape, and yellow, the leaves grow opposite in pairs, are three-sided, and pressed to the stem.
DESCRIPTION.
S flexible, thread-shaped, and slender, branching to the bottom; the branches crowded together.
The L grow opposite in pairs, are linear, pressed to the stem, threesided, concave on the upper, and keel-shaped on the under surface, furrowed, and shining; having very short leaf-stems pressed to the branches.
F are numerous, close together, and nearly terminating the branches; the foot-stalks are hair-like, and yellow, having two floral leaves.
E . Cup four-leaved, leaflets oval, pointed, yellow, and smooth.
The B yellow, of a pointed oval shape, compressed at the mouth; having a slightly reflexed, four-lobed border.
C . Eight hair-like threads, half the length of the blossom, bent back at the point, and fixed into the receptacle. Tips beardless, within the blossom, and small.
P . Seed-vessel cylindrical, and furrowed. Shaft thread-shaped, purple, and twice as long as the chives. Summit four-cornered.
Native of the Cape of Good Hope.
Flowers from September, till May.
REFERENCE.
1. The Empalement, and Blossom.
2. The Empalement, magnified.
3. The Chives, and Pointal.
4. The Chives detached from the Pointal; one tip magnified.
5. The Shaft, and its Summit magnified.
mammosa.
CHARACTER SPECIFICUS
E , antheris aristatis, inclusis; stylo subincluso; floribus verticillatis, pendulis, ventricoso-cylindricis, supra basin constrictis, profunde violaceopurpureis; foliis quaternis, linearibus, glabris.
DESCRIPTIO
C simplex, fruticosus, erectus, sesquipedalis; rami verticillati, raro ramulosi, erecti.
F quaterna, linearia, glabra, recta; seniora patentia, juniora erecta, subtus sulcata; petiolis brevissimis, adpressis.
F sub-pollicares, in summitate ramorum verticillati, penduli; pedunculi longissimi, bracteis tribus, minutis, remotis, instructi.
C . Perianthium tetraphyllum, foliolis lato-ovatis., acutis, marginibus membranaceis, apicibus coloratis, adpressis.
C ventricoso-cylindrica, apice attenuata, ad basin constricta, profunde purpurea; laciniis minutis, erectis, obtusis.
S . Filamenta octo capillaria. Antheræ aristatæ;, inclusæ, P . Germen turbinatum. Stylus filiformis, sub-inclusus. Stigma tetragonum.
Habitat ad Caput Bonæ Spei.
Floret a mense Julii in Novembrem.
REFERENTIA.
1. Calyx lente auctus.
2. Calyx et Corolla.
3. Stamina a Pistillo diducta, antherâ unâ lente auctâ.
ERICA
4. Germen, Stylus, et Stigma, stigmate aucto.
SPECIFIC CHARACTER.
H , with bearded tips, within the blossom; shaft just within the blossom; flowers grow in whorls, hanging down, of a swelled cylinder shape, pinched in at the base, and of a deep blue purple; leaves grow by fours, are linear, and smooth.
DESCRIPTION.
S simple, shrubby, upright, a foot and a half high; branches grow in whorls, seldom making smaller branches, and upright.
L grow by fours, linear, smooth, and straight; the older ones spread out, the younger grow upright, and are furrowed beneath; having very short foot-stalks, which are pressed to the stem.
F are near an inch long, grow in whorls at the top of the branches, hanging down; foot-stalks very long, having three small floral leaves at a distance from the cup.
E . Cup of four leaves, which are of a broad egg-shape, pointed, having the margins skinny, the ends coloured, and are pressed to the blossom.
B of a swelled cylinder-shape, tapered at the end, and pinched in at the base, of a deep purple; the segments of the border are very small, upright, and blunt.
C . Eight hair-like threads. Tips bearded, and within the blossom.
P . Seed-bud turban-shaped. Shaft thread-shaped, and just within the blossom. Summit four-cornered.
Native of the Cape of Good Hope.
Flowers from July till November.
REFERENCE
1. The Empalement magnified.
2. The Empalement and Blossom.
3. The Chives detached from the Pointal, one tip magnified.
4. The Seed-bud, Shaft, and Summit, the summit magnified.
ERICA
marifolia.
CHARACTER SPECIFICUS
E , antheris aristatis, sub-inclusis, corollis urceoli-formibus, albidis; foliis ternis, lato-ovatis, pubescentibus, subtus albidis.
DESCRIPTIO.
C erectus, fruticosus, pedalis, ramosissimus; ramuli frequentissimi, verticillati.
F terna, patentia, lato-ovata, margine revoluta, subtus albida, petiolis brevissimis, adpressis.
F terminales, umbellati, cernui; pedunculi longi, bracteis tribus instructi.
C . Perianthium tetraphyllum; foliolis spathulatis, seu basi attenuatis, apicibus ovatis, concavis, ciliatis.
C albida, urceoli-formis, oris laciniis sub-reflexis.
S . Filamenta octo capillaria; antheræ aristatæ, sub-inclusæ.
P . Germen cylindricum, sulcatum. Stylus filiformis, exsertus. Stigma tetragonum.
Habitat ad Caput Bonæ Spei.
Floret a mense Aprili in Julium,
REFERENTIA.
1. Calyx et Corolla.
2. Calyx lente auctus.
3. Stamina et Pistillum.
4. Stamina a Pistillo diducta, antherâ unâ lente auctâ.
5. Stylus et Stigma lente aucta.
SPECIFIC CHARACTER.
H , with bearded tips, just within the blossoms, which are pitchershaped, and white; the leaves grow by threes, of a broad egg-shape, downy, and white underneath.
DESCRIPTION.
S upright, shrubby, grows a foot high, and very branching; the smaller branches are numerous, and grow in whorls.
L grow by threes, spreading outward, of a broad egg-shape, rolled back at the edges., and white beneath, having short foot-stalks pressed to the branches.
F terminate the branches in bunches which hang downward; the foot-stalks are long, having three floral leaves.
E . Cup four-leaved, which are spathula-shaped, or tapering to the base, the tops egg-shaped, concave, and lashed.
B white, pitcher-shaped, having the segments of the mouth slightly bent back.
C . Eight hair-like threads; tips bearded, just within the blossom.
P . Seed-vessel cylinder-shaped, and furrowed. Shaft threadshaped. Summit four-cornered.
Native of the Cape of Good Hope.
Flowers from April till July.
REFERENCE.
1. The Empalement and Blossom.
2. The Empalement magnified.
3. The Chives and Pointal.
4. The Chives detached from the Pointal, one tip magnified.
5. The Shaft and its Summit magnified.
