He nodded. She was interested, but she was also holding back on the conversation. She knew something. He sensed it. Could she have information that might lead him to whoever had poisoned Max?
“You know it’s your duty to report poaching activity, Skylar.”
“I know that.”
“Don’t approach the culprit, just get a name or description, location of the trap or snare, and call it in.”
“I can do that. And I will. If I ever happen upon something like that.”
“You gotta be careful trekking through these woods.”
“This is my property.”
“Is it clearly marked? Fenced?”
“No.” She hooked a hand at her hip and lifted her chin. “My father had a good relationship with all the area families. We all respect boundaries and will often allow one another to hunt on our land, with permission. I’ve never had a problem…”
Joe waited as her words seemed to hang. She wasn’t saying something, and he really wanted to wrench it out of her, but he didn’t want to play hardball and force their relationship into something uncomfortable for her.
Not that they had a relationship. Well, beyond that he’d considered her a friend up until a year ago.
“What about your uncle?” he prompted. He knew Malcolm Davis’s land hugged Merlin Davis’s—now Skylar’s—land in some manner. It had all originally been owned by their father, Skylar’s grandfather.
“What about him?” Skylar now studied the ground intently.
Joe shrugged. “I see Davis Trucking driving the highways all the time. In Duluth, too.”
“They are the third biggest trucking company in northern Minnesota. I’m sure they have a loading dock on Superior.”
“Been around forever, too. You have a good relationship with them?”
“Davis Trucking? I can’t say it’s good, bad or ugly.”
“I mean your uncle Malcolm. Didn’t I hear something about him and your dad having a feud of some sort? I think you mentioned that to me once.”
“My dad has been gone for two years, Joe. Leave the past in the past.”
“Sorry.” He shoved his hands into his back pockets.
That had been a cruel means to try to get more about Malcolm Davis out of her. The patriarch of Davis Trucking was on Joe’s suspect list. But he’d yet to get hard evidence on him, save a few random deer pelts and a couple bald eagle talons found in one of his truckers’ glove compartments.
“I have to get to the store,” Skylar said, interrupting his thoughts. “It’s still early, and I have some mowing to do, plus I need to move the chicken house. I like to do that before the hot afternoon sun beats down. You going to move your truck?”
“I will. But I do have more questions. They can wait until after I’ve had a better look at the evidence. I’m not going to stand back and let you face alone whatever the hell is going on, Skylar. Just a warning. I’m here for you. Like it or not.”
She nodded and looked aside. “Sure thing, Joe. Thanks,” she said on a tight whisper. “Talk to you soon.”
She turned and strode off toward the cabin. Her long legs moved her swiftly, as did her swinging arms. No-nonsense wrapped in a tease of femininity. Had Cole Pruitt really married her? Last Joe had heard, the date had been set. And that wedding dress. So many questions he’d like to have answered.
“She’s hiding something,” Joe muttered.
And that hurt him almost as much as losing his chance at dating her had. Was she involved with the poachers his investigations were centered around? It was a quick and harsh judgment, but it was something he’d have to consider. She was a member of the Davis family, after all.
“Don’t do this to me, Skylar,” he said as he slid back behind the wheel of his truck. “I have too much respect for you.”
SKYLAR PAID FOR the two bags of groceries—pleased the small market offered sundries such as the red yarn—then grabbed the bags and headed out to her truck parked in the grassy lot in front of the store. The old Ford she drove had once been red, but the paint job had faded over the years to a rust-mottled pink. Cole had been good with the small fixes it had needed. That was about the only thing she missed about not having him around.
She set the paper bags on the passenger seat and closed the door to walk around to the back, where she paused and leaned against the tailgate to watch passing cars. She was no longer in an irritated mood caused by thoughts of Joseph Cash and his soulful green eyes. Because, mercy, that man had cornered the market on sexy.
Why had she never hooked up with him?
They almost had that one night. And then…
And then. The big rejection from him. That still hurt a little. Even though she could understand where he’d been coming from—she being drunker than a skunk. And he had been toasted, as well. That he’d had the mental fortitude to refuse her suggestion of sex was either because he was a strange beast or because he hadn’t been as interested in her as she’d thought.
Either way, at the time, his refusal had humiliated her. After that, she’d thought pushing him away was the smart thing to do. Really, the idea of being happy and in love with any man had only driven her mad after losing her father. He’d been torn apart when her mom had left. Skylar had been twelve that morning she’d found a note from her mother placed directly on top of her bowl of shredded wheat. She’d missed the school bus after reading the two sentences: I can’t do this anymore. I love you, Skylar. Mom.
And she hadn’t seen or heard from her since. No check-in calls. No Christmas cards. Not even a “hey, I’m still alive, don’t worry about me” message on the phone. Her teenage years had been depressing. Skylar had once been confident and self-assured in her schoolwork, but middle school had been merely going through the motions. By her sophomore year, Skylar had decided to put her anger into her schoolwork and had graduated a year early. As if that would show her mom.
It hadn’t, but it was how she’d coped with the situation. If her mom didn’t need her, then she certainly didn’t need her, either.
But her father had not been the same after his wife left. He’d refused to even date after that, telling Skylar Dorothy had been his soul mate. On his deathbed he had smiled and whispered Dorothy’s name before drifting away.
The woman had not deserved such reverence. Had she ever appreciated her husband’s love for her? That was a question Skylar wanted an answer to, but she knew it would never come. So she’d moved forward, and was doing as well as she could now that her dad was gone. Life had felt empty for a while after his death, but her focus on the animals she rehabilitated had worked like a jolt of life infused into her system. She didn’t need anyone to make her happy. Nor did she want to risk falling for someone and having them walk out of her life.
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