Cold Woods: Harper and Reese Thriller Series, #1

By S. L. Hansen

Glacier National Park's one million acres just became the hunting grounds of a serial killer.

 

To save her job, FBI Special Agent Kenzie Harper must go to the one place she fears more than any other—the woods. Banished to remote Glacier National Park and partnered with a park ranger with a past, Kenzie is one unhappy camper. But when young women start turning up dead in the park, Kenzie must figure out how to work in one of the most dangerous places in the world.

 

With the summer crowds looming, and her career on the line, Kenzie races to solve the case before the killer strikes again. But as the body count rises, she realizes the danger may be closer than she ever imagined.

 

With its stunning Montana backdrop and gripping plot twists, Cold Woods is a must-read for fans of crime thrillers and suspense novels. If you love books by bestselling authors like Lisa Regan and Craig Johnson, you won't want to miss Cold Woods. Grab your copy now!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Adventure Press, LLC
• Release date: May 15, 2023
• ISBN: 9798988222200

Book preview

Chapter 1

Rural New York

FBI Special Agent Mackenzie Harper switched on the headlights of her SUV and eased off the gas pedal. It was darker than the damn subway back here. Pines and newly leafing maple trees created a tunnel over the winding road, strangling out what little morning light remained after the recent spring rainstorm.

Kenzie’s gaze darted left and right as she maneuvered up the only road leading to the remote Appalachian Trail parking lot. She’d had no idea the trail that lead from Georgia to Maine crossed so close to New York City.

Why would I know that? Not like I’d ever come here for fun.

Thick shrubs crowded the edge of the gravel road, making it impossible to see more than a few inches into the forest.

Shit. She swerved to miss a squirrel darting across the road. She let the road’s steep slope slow her further, eyes peeled for other kamikaze wildlife. There could be no screwups today.

Everything had to go perfectly if she wanted to keep her job.

Rounding a corner, she spotted the trailhead parking lot. She pulled in and muted Van Morrison, plunging the SUV into silence. She’d seen a Starbucks bigger than this gravel lot. To her left, a handful of Subaru Outbacks and old sedans that looked held together with duct tape sat near a wooden sign noting the trail entrance.

To her right, a path led back into the woods. A green and white pickup truck with a New York State Parks emblem on the door, and two white panel vans were nearby. Several burly men dressed in work clothes appeared through the wall of trees and climbed into the vans. In true New York fashion, neither driver made eye contact with her as they sped out of the lot.

So, the stage had been set. At least, she assumed that’s what the men had been doing. Because somewhere back in those trees later this morning, Senator Ben Forrester would parade on a temporary stage in front of the cameras, touting his latest achievement.

Kenzie rested her hand on the door handle, hesitated, and glanced toward the path leading into those dark woods. She squeezed the handle, then dragged her hand back, rubbing it across the back of her neck. Maybe she should wait for the rest of the team before heading back there. Her boss said she needed to be a better team player. Yes, she’d wait until the rest of the detail arrived.

Why did it have to be in the woods? Couldn’t Forrester be content keeping his spectacle confined to the city like other politicians? Kenzie wiped clammy hands on her dark trousers. She flipped the visor down to reveal the vanity mirror. She smoothed back the little tendrils of brown hair that always gathered at her temples on humid days like this. Dark eyes gazed back at her from a face two shades paler than normal. God, she looked like she’d seen a ghost.

Kenzie tightened her low ponytail and narrowed her eyes at her image. You are not losing your shit out here, Harper. Get yourself together. You are not a child.

After five years based out of the NYC bureau office at 26 Federal Plaza, handling murderers, terrorists and crime bosses was a walk in the park, but the idea of a walk in an actual park made her legs shake.

What New York state park was she even in right now? There were dozens of them in this area, crisscrossed by the popular Appalachian Trail. A flash flood had destroyed several footbridges and storm shelters on the trail and the senior senator from New York would perform the ribbon cutting on the reopened trail section this morning. Kenzie was sure the passionate fundraising Forrester had done for the renovations had far more to do with it being an election year than his love of nature.

Even with the gas pedal mashed to the floorboard, it had taken Kenzie over an hour to arrive at the location. An hour of watching civilization disappear.

When her boss, Special Agent in Charge Marshall Finley, had told her early this morning he wanted her on Senator Forrester’s protective detail today and that the senator would speak to reporters from this trailhead, she’d thought he was joking. The last time she was on the senator’s detail, she’d gotten herself written up for unbecoming behavior—like it was her fault the fifty-something Forrester was a handsy little prick. She probably shouldn’t have threatened to break his hand if he touched her again. Surely, Finley wanted to keep her as far away from this guy as possible. But no, he saw this as a growing opportunity for her.

Kenzie had learned long ago that Finley got what Finley wanted. So here she was, in the middle of the woods, trying to get her racing pulse under control.

Kenzie slammed the visor shut and stared through the windshield. This must be some sort of hazing. Protecting the senator in the middle of the damn forest? How were they even supposed to maintain a perimeter in this kind of terrain? What she wouldn’t give for a crowded city street and skyscrapers with sniper sight lines.

The rumble of an engine drew her attention as a black SUV, twin to her own, pulled into the lot. She quickly pinched her cheeks to bring life back to her face.

Can’t risk Yunru asking what’s wrong.

Kenzie steeled herself, opened the door and jumped down, cringing as mud splattered her boots. She zipped her blue FBI windbreaker over her blazer and hunched her shoulders. It was colder here than it had been in the city. Even heat preferred the hustle and bustle of humanity to the eerie stillness of this lonely place.

As she approached the other SUV, a big man climbed out, his movements smooth for such a large frame. Special Agent Charles Delgado’s blue eyes were wide when he spotted her. The boss radioed you’d be joining us, Harper. But how the hell did you beat us here?

Kenzie gave the senior agent a droll smile. You drive like my nana, Agent Delgado.

Agent Zhao Yunru rounded the SUV, put his hands on his lean hips and shot Kenzie a boyish grin that eased some of the pressure in her chest. Delgado was a stick in the mud, but Yunru was alright. She’s got you there, Charlie.

Delgado grunted. She had learned a lot from the two agents in the last five years. Mainly never to trust a politician or the egg salad sandwich from the vending machine—both would make you regret the decision later.

Delgado walked swiftly down the path into the trees. Yunru followed, still chuckling to himself as he shrugged into his windbreaker.

Her feet refused to follow. Yunru paused. You coming?

Not on your life.

Yes.

Yunru fell into step with her. Come out with us tonight.

Can’t. I’m way behind on my paperwork. Finley’s been riding me about it for weeks.

Yunru lifted a dark brow but didn’t press her lie. Her paperwork, just like his, was perfectly up to date. Marshall Finley expected perfection from his team. Haven’t seen Jamie around lately. You two still a thing?

Christ, you’re worse than my mother, Kenzie said.

He shrugged thin shoulders. I enjoy playing poker with him.

Kenzie smirked. He has no poker face.

Which is why I enjoy playing with him.

We broke up.

Getting too serious for you? Yunru asked.

Kenzie pursed her lips. He really did sound like her mother. He transferred to Denver.

Yunru looked thoughtful as they walked down the narrow path. You could request a transfer to the Denver office.

I don’t want to be in Denver. I want to be in New York City.

The path opened up into a clearing surrounded by dense foliage. A small platform stage sat in the middle of a grassy area, with a single microphone and two knee high speakers. Behind the stage and set back into the trees was a simple brown outhouse.

Forrester’s gonna love that optic.

She scanned the opening, her mind finding security weaknesses along the way. Beside her, she sensed her team making the same assessment. They spent the next thirty minutes examining every nook and cranny of the area and determining where each agent would position themselves during the presser. Yunru would stand to the senator’s right, and Kenzie to his left. A head taller than both of them, Delgado would be on the ground, watching the crowd for any threats. All three had clear ear pieces in one ear for communication during the morning. A quick glance at her cell phone showed no service, and she was grateful their communication devices did not depend on cell signal.

She looked around the clearing again, then pulled a folded piece of paper from her jacket pocket. Delgado and Yunru gathered around her to study the map she had printed before leaving the office this morning. Thick forest surrounded the clearing where the senator would speak on three sides. Hiking trails radiated out in all directions and a campground sat half a mile further up the road. Too many variables. How were they supposed to protect this idiot?

I don’t like it, Kenzie said.

Way too much cover, Delgado agreed.

Yunru shook his head. Doesn’t he know better than to hold a press conference in the middle of nowhere? Especially after the threats Forrester has gotten recently.

Kenzie said, I’m not sure politics and common sense go hand in hand.

Yunru added, Whoever has been sending those death threats isn’t kidding around. The last one had ‘You’re next’ written in blood.

Pig’s blood, Delgado said.

Kenzie grunted a laugh. Feels appropriate for the senator, doesn’t it?

Delgado’s perpetual frown deepened. Agent Harper, I expect nothing but professionalism out here today.

Yunru snorted.

She threw her hands up in surrender. I want to put my interactions with Forrester behind me, too.

Chatter rose from the direction of the parking lot. She straightened as a slew of reporters and their camera crews trooped across the wet grass.

Delgado put his hand to his ear. Showtime. The senator’s security says they are pulling in now.

The three agents jogged back down the path, emerging in the parking lot as a shiny Land Rover that must have cost twice her annual salary pulled in. She’d never seen the senator in anything but a stretch limo. A security guard who looked like a football player shoved into a suit piled out of the front passenger seat and glanced around. His gaze flitted between her and her team and they exchanged nods before he opened the back door.

Senator Ben Forrester bounded from the vehicle with the energy of a college student.

In his mid-fifties, the former Syracuse star quarterback was tall, with cropped sandy blond hair edged with gray. The last time she’d seen him was at a museum fundraiser. Even dressed like a penguin, like all the other men, he’d stood out from the crowd. Today, the senator was wearing faded blue jeans, hiking boots, and a flannel jacket. Add in a beard and he’d be a regular mountain man. Ah, the Land Rover made more sense now. Forrester was portraying an image here today, the man of the woods. Catering to some voting demographic, no doubt.

Forrester’s blue-eyed gaze landed on her, and his grin broadened. Something about the smile made her choke back bile. He stepped closer, squeezing shoulder to shoulder with her down the path toward the stage. His voice was husky as he said, Agent Harper, what a pleasant surprise. I didn’t know when I’d see you again.

Kenzie gave him a tight smile as the path narrowed until brush pressured her on one side. On the other was the sleazebag who’d copped a feel the last time she was this close.

Senator Forrester, she said, and immediately sidestepped away from him as they emerged into the clearing. She was staying out of arm’s reach today.

Forrester strode toward the stage and Yunru and Kenzie fell into their preassigned places on the stage, slipping on reflective sunglasses. The oppressive cloud cover was fraying, and sunshine filtered through the leaves of the surrounding trees. Kenzie let the bullshit coming out of the politician’s mouth wash right over her, keeping her eyes trained on the crowd and the nearly impenetrable tree line. Forrester would speak for fifteen minutes, then take questions until he lost interest or lost control of the narrative. Her words, not his.

Kenzie never stopped scrutinizing her surroundings. Her pulse flicked a notch higher with every glance at the menacing shield of green. Her mental clock was ticking close to twenty minutes when the senator showed signs of finishing. She adjusted her stance. The time of reporter questions was the most dangerous, when the crowd was jostling for his attention, naturally drawing the eye of the security detail. Yunru would keep his eyes on the crowd nearest the stage, watching for knives, bottles or other weapons.

Kenzie’s gaze roamed the tree line. The hair on her arms rose. Her neck prickled, and Kenzie sharpened her focus on the trees to her right. Someone was watching her.

The tiniest flash of light winked from the brush. Her body responded in the millisecond it took her mind to process what she’d seen.

Kenzie dove across the stage toward the senator. Shooter!

Chapter 2

Rural New York

Kenzie slammed into the senator. She felt the displacement of air as the bullet passed above them as they crashed onto the stage. She pressed Forrester’s head against the stage and drew her weapon. The crowd screamed and shoved at each other as they rushed to escape. Beneath her, Forrester squirmed, his cloying cologne filling her nostrils.

At the tree line, bushes bobbed, and a shadowy form retreated, disappearing into the dark woods.

Yunru appeared at her elbow.

Stay down, she said to the senator. She shoved off Forrester, leapt down the stage stairs in a single bound, and sprinted toward the woods twenty yards away.

Kenzie slowed when she broke through the trees, glancing left and right. Large boot prints and curved impressions suggested someone had been kneeling here. The forest smelled musty, like the whole place was slowly decaying. Cries of the panicked crowd fell away as she crept deeper into the woods. Water gurgled over rocks. A creek, swollen after the recent rains, its noise obscuring the footfalls of the escaping shooter.

Where was he?

A sapling snapped back into place ahead of her. Gotcha.

Adrenaline spiked in her veins. She holstered her Glock and dashed after the shooter.

Kenzie wasn’t tall, but she was fast. Ahead, the man crashed through the underbrush, zigging and zagging, following no apparent trail. Yet he seemed set in his direction. Kenzie pictured the map of this area. What direction were they running? West? The campground was half a mile west of here.

His long legs drew him further ahead, and Kenzie increased her speed. She tried to ignore the trees that reached out to grab her. Tried to tell herself her racing pulse was the adrenaline of the chase.

Focus on the shooter.

The canopy above thickened the deeper into the woods she ran, shadows elongating as the forest choked out the light. Her sharp eyes struggled to see obstacles on the ground. Days of steady rain had saturated the forest floor. In one stride, mud sucked her boots in, and in the next she slid over a frictionless surface until colliding with a tree.

Kenzie shoved through the brush, wet leaves slapping her face in retaliation. Cold water ran down her collar. Icy chills coursed through her body.

Was it getting darker back here?

Get it together. Get this guy and you’ll be back on top with the boss.

She put on a fresh burst of speed and there he was, thirty yards ahead. She drew her weapon as she slid to a stop.

FBI. Freeze!

The man cast a quick look at her, stumbled, and continued to run. He was tall and lean, with a low slung ball cap and green camo fatigues. He had a military bearing and showed no intention of following her order to stop.

She raised her Glock and sighted. She had a shot. Her finger slipped to the trigger, and the gun quivered.

What the hell was that?

Kenzie had a split second to decide. Take the shot, end this right now and not have to take one more step into this awful place. Or try to catch him on foot and take him down by hand. Why did it have to be the fucking forest?

As he zigged and zagged and her gun wavered even in a two handed grip, she worried she might miss. There could be hikers anywhere back here and an errant shot might kill someone.

Damn it. She holstered her gun and doubled down on her speed, her decision made. She couldn’t risk someone getting hurt.

The man abruptly cut right. Follow, or keep going straight and try to cut him off? He’d been true in his course until now. Minutes felt like hours, and she did not know how far they had run into the woods. Had he parked at the campground and hiked to the senator’s speech location? It’s what she would have done. These thoughts took only a second or two to process, and she risked staying her course.

Her reward came a minute later when she charged out of the brush, intercepting the man in a flying tackle. She landed with bone jarring impact against the man’s muscular back. Mud flew everywhere as they crashed into the ground.

Get off me! the man roared.

With his left hand, he performed a one handed push up. His back muscles strained beneath her. His right hand reached for a knife strapped to his thigh. Kenzie slammed her elbow into his neck and drove her knee deeper into his kidney. He collapsed to the ground, and she wrenched his right arm behind his back, twisting until he screamed in pain. A little more torque and she could dislocate his shoulder. Drawing cuffs from her pocket, she clapped them around his meaty wrists.

She was still sitting on the man’s back when Delgado and Yunru burst through the trees.

Kenzie blew a strand of dark hair from her eyes. Did you guys stop for pizza or something?

Delgado helped her up without a word, but Yunru gave her a speculative glance before reaching to haul her prisoner to his feet. She probably looked pale and sweaty beneath the mud splattered across her face.

The shooter was staring down at her, bug-eyed. She sighed.

Yes, you got taken down by a girl. But don’t feel too bad. I have three brothers, and they taught me how to fight dirty. She flipped a hand back toward the clearing. Lead on, boys.

Yunru narrowed dark eyes at her, his wide forehead crinkling in concern. He was observant, and her bravado didn’t fool him. Kenzie shoved shaking hands into her jacket pockets.

Trudging along behind the men, she reflected on how she’d ended up here. When Special Agent in Charge Marshall Finley had offered her a position in his NYC office straight out of Quantico, she’d jumped at the chance. Not only to make history alongside him, but to be in the biggest metropolitan area she could find. The more people, cars, cement and highrises, the better.

Kenzie kept her eyes glued to Delgado’s dark hair for the next fifteen minutes. But the trees seemed to collapse in on her and the smell of decaying leaves kept her adrenal glands dumping stimulant into her system.

Fucking fight-or-flight response.

By the time they approached the trailhead, she was about to lose it. She needed out of this damn forest.

When they emerged into the clearing, she was stunned to find Senator Forrester waiting. A bank of cameras behind him pointed in her direction.

Shit.

She wanted a hot shower and a beer, not to press the flesh and answer stupid questions. She tried to steer clear of the chaos, but Forrester made a beeline for her, a determined look in his eye.

He bustled up to her and gave her a distasteful look that the camera couldn’t see. Mud covered her windbreaker and trousers, her favorite boots likely damaged beyond repair. She should send the jerk her dry cleaning bill. Her skin crawled thinking about the decomposing things in that forest that were now on her face and hands.

The senator, clean as a whistle, not a wrinkle in sight, grabbed her hand and pumped enthusiastically. His unexpected touch shot her internal alarm bells higher. Could he see the pulse pounding in her throat? He stood way too close for comfort. His back still to the cameras, he squelched a grimace as Kenzie’s dirty hand sank into his manicured one. Kenzie narrowed her eyes at him and squeezed a little harder than necessary.

I don’t like being muddy either, you little prick.

His smile slipped into a leer, and he released her hand but put a hand on the small of her back and turned her toward the throng of swarming reporters.

Smile for the camera, Agent Harper. You’re a hero, he murmured. Kenzie forced a tight smile as the reporters pushed closer and began shouting questions.

Hidden from the cameras, Forrester’s hand slid down her lower back until Kenzie felt his hand squeeze her butt. Kenzie pivoted, grabbed Forrester’s hand, and leveraged his height to flip him through the air. He landed face first in the muddy grass.

Later, she would say the adrenaline made her do it. Which was mostly true.

Shouts of laughter echoed and Kenzie looked up. The reporters gaped at her for a fraction of a second, then jockeyed each other for the best filming position. Shaking, Kenzie looked down. She had the senator’s arm pinned behind his back and she was kneeling on his back.

Get. Off. Me. Forrester’s whole body vibrated with rage.

Kenzie scrambled off him and stood by numbly as he got to his feet. With his back to the cameras, Forrester locked blazing eyes on her.

Pack your bags, Harper. You’re done with the FBI.

Chapter 3

New York City, New York

Kenzie’s boot heels clicked a steady rhythm against the linoleum as she paced outside her boss’s glass walled office. She was tracking mud all over the place, but she didn’t care. Again, she stole a glance into the office. Special Agent in Charge Marshall Finley looked like he was having a root canal, holding his phone a few inches from his ear. Kenzie wasn’t sure who was chewing out her boss, but she was certain she was the topic of conversation.

Senator Ben Forrester’s words rang in her head like a gong tolling the end of her career. Could he have her fired? Did he have that sort of power?

Shit.

Kenzie picked up her pacing once more, eyes focused on the floor rather than meeting the sympathetic gazes of her fellow agents in the bullpen. She’d been on the fast track to a career with the bureau since college. She didn’t know any other way of life. Was her FBI career over before it had really begun? Her stomach threatened to revolt, and she considered dashing for the locker room. Instead, she breathed in through her nose until her stomach settled.

Her phone buzzed. Pulling it from her jacket pocket, she saw a text from her younger brother, Lucas. Hmm, maybe she could move in with him if Finley fired her. Lucas had a nice little place a couple of hours outside of the city, though it would be crowded with his dog. As his partner on the police force, the dog was his constant companion.

Lucas: Are you okay? Also, that was a pretty badass move.

Kenzie: I’m fine. How do you even know what happened?

Lucas: It’s all over the internet.

She groaned.

Kenzie: Shit. Has Dad seen it?

Lucas’ reply took forever.

Lucas: Doubtful. I’m sure he’s at work.

Kenzie: I’m waiting to talk to my boss about…the incident.

Lucas: Good luck. Talk later.

He added a thumbs up emoji.

Kenzie snapped her head up at a thunderous vibration from Finley’s office. Finley was holding the phone in front of his mouth now, shouting into the void. His formerly grim face had turned murderous.

What did the caller say to set Finley off like that?

He rose and slammed the desk phone down, then stood, big hands braced against his desk. Kenzie schooled herself to stand still when he finally lifted his gaze to meet hers. Finley jerked his head, and Kenzie reluctantly pushed through his office door. She could feel the eyes of dozens of agents on her back as a suspicious silence settled across the bullpen. If she turned back, would she see them asking each other what Harper had done this time and passing around popcorn to enjoy the show?

Kenzie threw her shoulders back and marched toward Finley’s massive mahogany desk with false confidence. The normally spotless surface was littered with fine white sand, apparently jettisoned from his tiny stress-relieving sand box during the argument on the phone. She pictured Finley slamming a heavy hand to the desk in anger. The sand box didn’t seem to be helping Finley’s stress level today. He jabbed one well-manicured finger at a straight-backed chair facing his desk and Kenzie obediently sat, trying not to fidget in the minimalist torture device.

They sat in silence while Finley carefully wiped sand from his precious desk. Office gossip suggested Finley had made a special request to have the desk brought up from storage. Supposedly, it had belonged to J. Edgar Hoover himself. Finley didn’t hide his ambition from anyone, and Kenzie respected the hell out of him for it.

In his fifties, fit, with rich dark skin and closely cropped black hair sprinkled with gray, her boss could have graced the cover of GQ. Kenzie was no slouch in the fashion department, but she’d seen SAC Finley transition effortlessly from a three-piece suit to casual golf course-ready chinos and polo shirt. And today’s tailored navy suit, white shirt, and silk tie were well above her pay grade.

Some might dismiss Finley as nothing more than a pretty face, but Kenzie knew better. Finley used his good looks to charm the pants off a suspect right before he brought the hammer down and put them behind bars for life. It had earned him the nickname The Hammer and was why Kenzie wanted to be just like SAC Marshall Finley when she grew up.

It had thrilled her to be picked by Finley fresh out of Quantico five years ago. He’d claimed recognition of a kindred spirt, driven to put the bad guys away at any cost. She’d been exactly the agent he needed in his office to close cases and get his unit noticed. Unfortunately, with Kenzie, the attention wasn’t always the kind he preferred. She’d closed a lot of cases, some of them high profile for such a junior agent. But she leaped first and looked for a solid landing place later, which sometimes landed her boss in the middle of a PR nightmare. His words, not hers.

Finley finally finished cleaning his desk and leaned forward on his elbows. Do you know the headache you’ve caused me today, Agent Harper?

I saved Forrester’s life, sir. She paused and added with deliberate emphasis, And took down the shooter.

You did your job admirably. But why did you feel it was necessary to put the senator in the mud in front of dozens of cameras?

I was a little amped up after chasing down the shooter.

Finley’s dark brows knitted together. You took him down like a common criminal. He will not let this go.

Fine, I’m sorry I slammed him to the ground. But that jerk has twice now grabbed my a— uh, butt while I’ve been on his protection detail. It wouldn’t kill him to learn some manners.

This is serious, Agent Harper.

I saved Forrester’s bacon, and I caught the bad guy. What more do you want?

It’s your methods that worry me. He gave a long-suffering sigh. If he wasn’t careful, he’d throw out his putting shoulder with a sigh that big. Look, no one else saw what you did, kid. You’re a damned good agent, Finley said. But you suck at politics.

I didn’t join the Bureau to practice politics.

It’s the way the game works, Agent Harper. Washington controls the purse strings.

Duly noted. Sir, if we’re done here, I need to prepare to interview my suspect.

Finley stared at her. You aren’t interviewing anyone, Agent Harper.

Kenzie sat up straighter. "But the shooter is my perp.