The Eagle’s Nest was about fifteen minutes outside the little town, a fairly large, square building set in the middle of a big parking lot. The lot was more than half full, mostly with pickup trucks and semis.

“Typical truck stop,” Jenna commented.

“Looks like it,” Scot agreed. He pulled into a spot at the side of the building, turned off the engine, and faced Jenna. “You ready for this?”

She nodded. “I think so. I guess I’m still in shock that she approached me the way she did. We hardly had anything to do with each other when I lived here. I didn’t even go to my high school graduation.”

“You really withdrew after you were attacked,” he guessed.

“I did. I had no one I could talk to. My mother was so high on Roger and the lifestyle, and petrified I’d do something to upset it. I went to classes, kept my head down, studied and then got the hell out of here.”

He surprised her by sliding his hand over her shoulders and rubbing her neck. The tingles left by his touch shot straight to her core, enough that she had to squeeze her thighs together. She slid a glance at Scot, wondering if he noticed, and saw his gaze was fixed on her thighs. Oh, yeah He noticed.

How was it possible that after all these years, after never being able to respond properly to a man in bed, after feeling that sex was a torture to be endured rather than enjoyed… How was it possible that just a simple touch from this man set her crazy hormones dances and her body heating up.

When she looked at him again, he was staring straight at her, those dark-chocolate eyes glinting with heat. What the hell was going on here?

He leaned toward her just a fraction, as if he was going to kiss her, then shifted back into his seat and opened his door.

“Better not keep Becca waiting.”

As soon as she was out of the truck he came around and took her hand in his.

“Couple stuff,” he reminded her, as she looked up at him. “In case anyone’s watching us.” Then he threw her off balance by winking.

What was it with this man that just a simple glance from him brought responses from her frozen body that she’d never had before? As they walked into the Eagle’s Nest, she was glad she had a thin jacket on. It could cover her nipples, which felt as hard as rocks and were probably poking through her sweater. When they got back to the cabin, she might have to hide in the loft for the rest of the day.

The inside of the restaurant/truck stop was warm, and the air was redolent with the aroma of cinnamon and sugar. She remembered at once what Becca had said about their special sweet rolls, and her mouth watered.

The place was about half full, most of the counter stools occupied. She looked around and finally spotted Becca in a booth in a corner, similar to where she and Scot had sat the night before. Was Becca hiding, too?

They made their way to the booth and slid onto the bench across from her. Scot made sure she was on the inside, protected by his body. She half expected him to ask Becca if they could change sides. A waitress was there almost at once, with a carafe and two thick ceramic mugs.

“If you want decaf, I gotta go back in the kitchen and get it,” she told them

“No.” Scot smiled at her. “We’re good. But bring us some of those sweet rolls, okay?”

“You got it.” She scurried away

Becca looked across the table at Jenna, the half-smile on her lips belying the frightened look in her eyes.

“Thank you for coming,” she said, clutching her mug like a lifeline. “I wasn’t sure…” Her voice drifted off.

“Of course.” Jenna took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. She’d learned there were times for chitchat and times to get right to the heart of the matter. This was one of the latter times. “Forgive me for being abrupt, Becca, but I’m pretty sure you didn’t ask to meet me so we could relive old times. You and I didn’t have any old times. I didn’t have any with anyone, as a matter of fact. So what’s going on?”

Becca began shredding the paper napkin in front of her. “I was in Helena one day and went into the bookstore to get some things for my kids. They had a display for both of your books.” She gave a short, rough laugh. “To tell you the truth, I was shocked. I had no idea you had that kind of talent. I don’t think any of us expected it—”

“Let’s not talk about the past,” Jenna broke in. “Let’s concentrate on the present. So, you saw my books…”

Becca nodded. “I bought both of them and read them. Then I did an online search and found some of the stories you’ve done. Investigative pieces. I think what impressed me the most was your fearlessness investigating the cases.”

“Becca, did you send me a couple of emails?”

Panic flashed across Becca’s face for a moment, then she swallowed and nodded her head.

“Y-Yes. We didn’t know what else to do. I talked to the girls about it after I read your books. The fact that you weren’t really part of everything made it easier for me to reach out to you.”

“The girls?”

Becca nodded. “Y-yes. There’s f-five of us. And it happened to all of us.”

Shock chilled Jenna’s blood. How many young girls had this bastard raped? How many still hid in fear, knowing they’d be killed if they came forward? She forced herself to be calm, because it was important Becca feel safe with her. She reached across and rested her hand on the other woman’s arm.

“Okay. Here I am, and I promise you nothing you tell me will go beyond this booth.”

Becca glanced over at Scot.

“Don’t worry about him,” Jenna assured her. “He’s a former SEAL. He’s most definitely not going to tell anyone.”

“Okay.” The other woman seemed to gather her courage then leaned across the table toward Jenna. “You have no idea how bad this really is, Jenna. Really bad. Remember Ruth Hartwig? Her daughter was babysitting the little kids at a big house party at one of the huge ranches. She left them alone for a minute in the playroom so she could get some cold drinks from the kitchen. Someone grabbed her in the hallway, put his hands over her eyes and mouth, dragged her into one of the bedrooms, and raped her. And this just happened a couple of months ago.”

Becca’s hands trembled and she was shredding the napkin even more.

Nausea struck Jenna. “How old is she?” Jenna asked.

“T-thirteen at the time. Ruth says she doesn’t know how the kid managed to keep it together for the rest of the party. When they got home, she rushed into the bathroom and was violently ill. It took Ruth a long time to get it out of her. She said the man told her he’d kill her and anyone she told. Ruth’s husband was furious. He still wanted to go to the sheriff, but their daughter was so hysterical, he had to promise not to. But that little girl is still a basket case. She won’t even go back to school. Ruth is homeschooling her for now and trying to get her to see a therapist.”

“Oh, Becca.” Jenna gave the other woman’s arm a reassuring squeeze.

“But that’s just the tip of it. Jenna, he’s been doing it for years. He did it to Julie, for god’s sake. Your friend. And killed her. You saw the little article. Right?”

Jenna nodded. “I did, but none of the news items were more than a couple of paragraphs. Just the barest details.”

“Julie’s dad asked the sheriff about it, and he said there’s not much interest in anything in an area as sparsely populated as this is. What the hell does that have to do with it? A killing is a killing.”

“There’s more,” Jenna guessed. “Right?”

“Yes.” Becca plucked another napkin from the holder and went to work on it. When a group of us got together one night, and Ruth was telling us about it, and how heartbroken she was at what it did to her daughter, it all came out. It happened to three of my friends when they were thirteen or fourteen. We’re sure it’s happened to other girls in town.” She sniffled. “It’s been going on for years. I—”

“Take your time.”

Becca took a deep breath then went on. “It happened to me, too, my sophomore year in high school. My father does some local work for your—for Roger Holland. We were all invited to the big Christmas party at the ranch.”

And there it was, the ranch again. Was there a connection? Who would have been at both parties? God! She remembered that party. She had refused to go there, afraid he would show up again. Instead, she’d hidden in her room with the door locked, while her friend was being raped.

“I thought maybe I’d see you there,” Becca went on, “but your mother said you weren’t feeling well. I was trying to find your room to see how you were when he grabbed me.”

“Becca, I’m so sorry.”

Becca shivered. “Sometimes, even now, I can still feel those big hands on my eyes and my mouth, his big body pressing me into the mattress while he wraps a cloth around my eyes. Nearly suffocating as he presses me into the mattress. For years, I couldn’t stand to have a boy touch me. Thank god for my husband. He loved me enough to finally coax it out of me, and then to help me work through the nightmare so we can have some kind of life together.”

“Jesus, Becca.” Jenna took a deep swallow of her coffee, even though by now it was cold. She knew what Becca had felt. It brought back vivid memories of her own rape.

“It’s way past time that I could report it, even if I had the guts to do it, but it’s still going on. We have no idea how often because no one’s going to talk about it. Nobody reports it anymore because they don’t want to end up dead.” She stared at Jenna with haunted eyes. “Nine girls over a period of fourteen years have been killed, and who knows how many more have been raped.”

“If these were young girls, why didn’t their parents push the sheriff to do something about it at the time?”

“Oh, believe me, they have. They’re still plenty angry, with the rapist and the sheriff. They want this man found and don’t know why Bartell can’t accomplish that. It’s even happened to a couple of girls visiting friends here. Their families raise holy hell, but nothing gets resolved. The sheriff keeps saying it’s someone who shows up here every few years, but if that’s so, a stranger would stick out like a sore thumb.”

”Unless he has a legitimate reason for being in the area.” Jenna leaned forward. “Becca, thank you for sending me the emails.”

“I didn’t know what else to do. I figured maybe you could come out here, shake some trees, get involved the way you’ve done with other stories, and make something happen.”

Jenna gave a short little laugh. “I think you give me greater power than I have.”

“Please.” Becca clasped one of Jenna’s hands in both of hers. “Ruthie and a few of the others got with me, and we talked about what we could do. I told them about you, so we drew straws to see who would send you the email, and I got lucky. Please, Jenna. Please, please, put your investigative hat on and dig into this. We’ll help you all we can. Give you names we know of victims.”

“And maybe think of anyone who lives here in the county who is a good candidate for this.”

“Ruth thinks Bartell knows who it is and is protecting him because he’s the one who keeps the sheriff in office.”

Jenna turned her head and exchanged a look with Scot. He’d been quiet all this time, drinking his coffee, resting his arm casually around Jenna to give her his support.

“We wondered the same thing,” he said.

Becca looked over at the other diners then back to Jenna.

“We, um, came up with some names that we think might be him. We didn’t have a lot to go on since no one has seen him or heard his real voice. This is just based on physical build and who has enough power that they can get away with this. It’s a very short list.” She fished a slip of paper from her purse and slid it across the table.

Jenna unfolded it and read it, holding it close to her. Five names. The same ones she had come up with. The bank president. The president of the cattleman’s association. The representative from their district to the state legislature. The owner of the ranch second in size to Roger Holland’s. The president of the State Bar Association. These were all men who were born into wealth and/or power, and their positions had just continued to grow. She had to swallow back the sudden nausea to keep from throwing up on the table.

Which one of them? Who was so evil he would do this, and keep doing it for years?

“We actually brought up a lot more names,” Becca went on, “but from everything we remembered, these are the most likely candidates.”

“You’ll have to be extra careful with this, Jenna,” Scot interjected. “Just be aware of that. I know I’m repeating what we’ve already said but I can’t say it enough times. Whoever this guy turns out to be, he’s very powerful and determined to keep his identity a secret at all costs.”

Becca’s face turned pale. “Oh, Jenna, we don’t want you to put yourself in harm’s way. We just thought you were better at digging up facts than we’d be.” Tears clouded her eyes again. “We just need to do something.”

“But quietly,” Scot said in a low voice. “Not in a way that will call attention to what we’re doing.”

Jenna looked at him. “We?”

“Damn straight. Aren’t I your boy friend?” He gave her a tiny squeeze and added in a very low voice, “and maybe a little more.”

“Would you be willing to meet with the others?” Becca asked. “Two of the women were raped ten years ago and the others, like Ruth, have daughters who were raped. Two of them, their girls were murdered.”

Jenna looked at Scot for guidance.

“I’d say that’s a good idea. That way we can get information firsthand. But let me suggest we do this far away from town. Like maybe even one county over. And we should do it soon.”

Becca nodded. “I’ll call everyone as soon as I get back in my car. I don’t want to make the calls from here, even though we’re pretty much out of the mainstream. We’ll pick a place. If I can get everyone together for tomorrow night does that work for you?”

“The sooner the better,” Jenna agreed.

“Why don’t we all exchange cell numbers,” Scot suggested. “That way we can keep in contact with each other, and Becca, you can confirm the meeting with us.”

They took care of it in the booth. Then Scot signaled for the check.

“Thank you again for this,” Becca said. “We are all really desperate.”

“We’ll get it taken care of,” Scot assured her.

Becca left first then Jenna and Scot headed out to his pickup.

“Let’s go back to the cabin,” Jenna said. “I’m going to do some deep research on the residents of this county. See what I come up with. I especially want to dig into Sheriff Bartell’s background, see if there are any articles about who his supporters and/or friends are.”

“Good idea. I brought my own laptop with me, so I can help you.”

She glanced over at him, startled. “You did? You will?”

His lips curved in an unfamiliar grin. “Sure. I’m not just a pretty face.”

Jenna laughed, the first real laugh she’d enjoyed since she received the emails. “You are a surprising person.”

“That’s right. I’m full of surprises.” He reached over and squeezed her hand. “Just remember that.”

As soon as they were back in the cabin, Jenna set up her laptop at the little dining table. Scot retrieved his from the bedroom and set up across from her.

“Before we get started, how about some lunch?” he asked. “Those sweet rolls were every bit as good as advertised, but neither of us ate much.”

“Oh.” She looked across at him, startled. Food was the last thing she’d been thinking about. “Sure. I’ll look and see what we’ve got.”

But Scot pushed back from the table and stood up.

“Easier for me. I know what we’ve got. You need to get to work. That’s a better use of your time.”

“Wow! A bodyguard, a boyfriend, and a cook all wrapped up in one. How lucky can a girl get?”

The same heat she’d seen before flashed in his eyes.

“I don’t know. Maybe you should find out.”

He winked—winked!—then moved into the kitchen area.

Jenna stared, doing her best to ignore the unfamiliar flutterings in various parts of her body. The last thing she needed was for Scot Nolan to think she wanted a roll in the hay with him. How could she tell him she had all these hang-ups because she’d never really gotten past the trauma of the rape? Although if anyone could help her, she had a feeling it could be him.

I need to get my act together here and focus on the reason for this trip.

But lord! Scot was making her feel things she’d never expected.

Determined to forget about everything but her project, she opened a web browser and began her research. She had bookmarked the news items about the murders, so she brought them up and made a list of the victims. She thought it strange that there were very few details about the condition of the bodies or how they were found. The only fact listed was that they were all strangled by a man with large hands whose fingers left huge bruise marks on their necks.

Anger, she thought. And rage. How dare these nothings attempt to destroy his life?

Then she began a meticulous search for everything on the names on Becca’s list. And for good measure, she threw in Sheriff Owen Bartell.