The bed dipped and she found herself flat on her back, Ben looming over her again. “It’s not funny.” He kissed her to stop her laughter. When he was finished with that chore, he kissed her again. Emma guessed the second time was just to prove he could without the windows rattling again.

“I have to go,” he whispered into her mouth.

“Why?”

“It’s nearly dawn. And when Mike catches us in bed, I want us to be married.”

Emma sighed again. “Yeah.”

“So when will that be, Em?”

“Well … when do you want to get married?”

“Tomorrow.”

She burst out laughing again. “How about next spring?”

“How about later this week?”

“A Christmas wedding, then.”

“Thanksgiving.”

“But that’s only two weeks away!”

“Two damn long weeks, if you ask me. What’s the problem, Emma?”

“I want a nice wedding. It’s the only one I’m going to have.”

Ben heaved a mighty sigh. “You can have as nice a wedding as you can put together in two weeks. That’s as long as I’m waiting.”

“Or?”

He smiled but he didn’t look amused. “Or I will shanghai you on one of my cargo ships and have the captain marry us at sea.”

“That’s … you can’t … oh, okay. Thanksgiving, then,” she conceded, sealing her bargain with a quick kiss. “In my church. With Greta as my maid of honor.”

“I don’t care if Pitiful stands up with you as long as it’s legal.” Ben stood up and began hunting for his clothes.

Emma unabashedly watched, her knees tucked under her chin, admiring the play of muscles that made his movements efficient and graceful.

“Thank you for the roses. I’ve never received flowers before,” she said as she picked up several petals and held them to her nose.

“You’re welcome.” He kissed her and walked out of the room.

As soon as the door closed, she scooped up a handful of petals and inhaled their scent with gusto. She fell back on the pillow, letting the petals cascade over her face as she closed her eyes and inhaled again.

Damn if they didn’t smell like moss!

Though he considered himself firmly grounded in reality, there were times Ben could actually sensesomething lurking, preparing to pounce. It was never anything tangible or even definable, just a feeling of impending disaster.

He believed in the mysteries of this world, and he also believed there were things beyond human understanding better not dwelled on. But mostly Ben believed his gut when it was telling him something was wrong. And for the last week, it had been telling him something was very wrong in Medicine Gore.

There was evil walking these woods, threatening Emma and Mike and the new life Ben had found with them. They thought Poulin’s coordinates were a drug-drop site, but he felt they were part of something much more ugly. He’d first noticed it two days ago when he’d checked them out himself, and he felt it now, as he stood at the spot they marked.

“A dog would help,” Atwood said from ten feet away, scuffing at the ground with his foot, disturbing years of rotting leaves. “One of those dogs used to search for bodies after disasters.”

Ben turned to the quiet, intelligent detective. “It’s been ten years.”

Atwood shrugged as he continued to walk in circles, scanning the forest floor. “Dogs have remarkable noses.”

“When we get back, call one in. But keep it quiet. I don’t want Emma or Mike to know what we’re doing until we’ve found something concrete.”

“I’ll put Sklyer on it.”

Ben fought the chill that suddenly ran down his spine, hunkering deeper into his parka as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Why don’t you head into town and try to find out where Poulin has disappeared to,” he suggested. “If it looks like he’s really out of town, you may get your chance to check out his room.”

Atwood looked up and grinned. “A little more subtly than your lady did?”

Ben lifted a brow. “I’m assuming you have more experience at that sort of thing.”

“I can get in and out without leaving any tracks,” he drawled as he walked to Ben. “What about the old lady?”

“Emma said Greta was coming out to Medicine Creek this afternoon to start the wedding plans.”

Atwood’s face lit up. “Congratulations. You’re really going to tie the knot?”

“Just as tight as I can.”

He had no second thoughts about marrying Emma and legally adopting Mike. And if the small army he’d brought from New York couldn’t put Wayne Poulin away, Ben was taking his new family to the other side of the earth until this was finally settled. One way or another, he wasn’t letting the evil touch them.

“Go ahead on back,” he told Atwood. “I’m going to hang around a while longer.” He looked at the forest again. “The key to this puzzle is here. I can feel it.”

“We rode out here together. How you planning on getting home?”

Ben shrugged. “I tossed a pack in the truck before we left. I’ll walk back.”

Atwood looked incredulous. “It’s over twenty miles.”

“It’ll give me time to think. And according to the map, those old hot springs are between here and home. I think I’ll stop and check them out.”

Atwood turned wary. “That could be dangerous, what with all the tremors lately. There could be noxious gases escaping.”

Ben started walking to where they’d parked the Suburban. “I’ll be careful.”

Atwood fell into step beside him. “You want me to do any checking on the dam that was blown up fifteen years ago while I’m in town?”

“Leave that to the others. We’ll get together tonight and discuss what we’ve found.” He stopped and looked back at the forest. “My gut says it’s all connected. I don’t know how yet, but I think Poulin had something to do with Charlie Sands’s death and Kelly’s disappearance.”

At the truck, Ben pulled out his pack and the high-powered rifle he’d borrowed from Emma’s gun cabinet that morning. Then he lifted out the small cage that held Homer.

“You’re really getting into this woodsman stuff, aren’t you?” Atwood said with a chuckle.

“When I mentioned to Mike I was coming out here, he asked me to bring Homer with me and let him go. He wants to find out if the bird can find his way back without the benefit of having flown here,” Ben said.

The wilderness did intrigue him, though. More than that, he was beginning to find a contentment he hadn’t known existed.

Atwood shrugged and climbed into the driver’s seat.

Ben settled his pack on his back, and picked up his rifle and Homer. “While you’re in town, find out when the plane will be in. Push it if you have to. I want it here by Thanksgiving.”

Atwood grinned. “A wedding present?”

“Yup. That way she’ll have to accept it.”

“She’s gonna be one grateful bride. The plane you ordered makes the stealth fighter jet look like a relic. It’s got every electronic toy known to man.”

“Every groom deserves a grateful bride, don’t you think?” Ben said as he slapped Atwood on the shoulder. “I’m counting on it.”

Atwood started the truck and drove off. Ben watched the Suburban slowly make its way down the overgrown road, waiting until it was out of sight before he headed back to the one spot in this vast, beautiful forest that seemed to be lacking a soul.

The fall morning was crystal clear, the sun bathing the land with warmth. Yet when he stepped into the realm of Wayne’s coordinates, it was like stepping into a cold, lifeless circle of evil.

Chapter Eighteen

“B eaker, I’m going tostep on you if you don’t get out of my way,” Emma warned for the fifth time.

For some mysterious reason, the dog had been glued to her side all morning. She had already given the clinging animal numerous cookies trying to calm him, but now she was feeling ill from eating all the chocolate centers.