Blood on Copperhead Trail by Paula Graves Page A

goal, wasn’t likely to last beyond a return to civilization. She was still the public integrity officer Ridge County had sent to frisk his new department.
    They didn’t have to be enemies, of course, since they both wanted to see the Bitterwood Police Department function on the up-and-up. But as she represented people who wanted to disband the department altogether and bring the town under the county sheriff’s jurisdiction, they were unlikely to be friends, either. Or anything more than friends.
    No matter how tempting she was all sleep mussed and smiling.
    She handed him the cup of coffee. “Chief—”
    “Doyle,” he corrected, even though he knew keeping a semblance of professional distance would have been a much safer plan.
    “Doyle,” she corrected, dimpling a little and making his insides twist pleasantly again. “Is Janelle still in danger?”
    “Not as long as she’s in the hospital,” he answered. “I didn’t mention this earlier, but yesterday morning I asked one of my officers to go to the hospital after work to keep an eye on things, now that the news of her survival is out in the press.” He tried a sip of coffee. It was hot and strong, the way he liked it.
    “Are you sure he can be trusted?”
    “I’m sure she can. I assigned Delilah Hammond. I asked some people I know about her, and they all vouch for her integrity and also her skill as a bodyguard.”
    “I know Dee.” Relief trembled in Laney’s voice. “But I’d still like to get back to Jannie as soon as we can. Just to reassure myself.”
    He pushed to his feet, testing his muscles. A little achy in places from the long trek up the mountain the day before, not to mention the tumble off the trail. But nothing that should keep him from getting back down the mountain, as long as the weather allowed. “Snow melting yet?”
    “Not yet. It’s early. But the weather forecasters all agreed that even up here on the mountain, the temperatures should be above freezing by midmorning.”
    He looked through the grimy window next to the woodstove. Snow glistened diamond bright in the morning sunlight. “Sun will help, too.”
    She dug in her backpack and pulled out a protein bar. Breaking it in half, she handed a piece to him. “So you up for trying to get back down the mountain?”
    “If you think it’s safe enough now.”
    “The visibility should be tons better. You won’t be as likely to wander off the trail.” She shot him a look of amusement.
    “I didn’t wander off. I slid off. Big difference.”
    She just chewed her piece of protein bar and stifled another grin.
    She was right about the visibility, Doyle had to admit an hour later, when they started back through the woods to the trail. The neon-orange trail markers Laney had left along the way glowed like beacons, returning them easily to the place where they’d left the beaten path behind. She stuffed the retrieved markers back in her pack, trading them for a pair of binoculars, which she lifted to her eyes.
    “Gotta get me one of those packs,” Doyle murmured, hoping for—and receiving—a grin in response.
    “I’ll give you a packing list for next time.” She hooked the binocular straps around her neck, swung the pack onto her back and started moving along the snowy trail at a confident clip. He hurried to catch up.
    About a quarter mile along the trail, she stopped, gazing down at the snow path ahead of them. “Look.”
    He followed the wave of her hand and saw nothing but snow. “What am I looking at?”
    She crouched, bringing her eyes more level with the trail. “Someone’s been through here.”
    He crouched beside her. “I don’t see any prints.”
    “It was sometime during the snowfall,” she said. “But after we came through here.”
    “How do you know that?”
    “The trail is wide here, and we instinctively keep to the right side. Just like we are now.” She waved her hand at where they stood, which was definitely on the right side of the trail