Danny (Big Northwest Book 1) Read online

  Danny, book 1 of the BIG Northwest series

  Copyright 2020 by Janice M. Whiteaker.

  www.janicemwhiteaker.com

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without the prior written permission of the publisher and copyright owner except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  First printing, 2020

  Cover design by Robin Harper at Wicked by Design.

  Models- Michael Scanlon and Greta Rupeika

  Photographer-Reggie Deanching

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  TWENTY-THREE

  TWENTY-FOUR

  TWENTY-FIVE

  EPILOGUE

  ONE

  “I THINK YOU’RE lost.”

  Craig squinted into the sun sliding between the billowy clouds hanging over Shadow Pine, Washington. He smiled at the tall, lean blonde staring him down from the sidewalk, one hip jutted out, her heeled boot tapping against the concrete.

  “Maybe.” He turned to fully face her, tucking one hand into the pocket of his jeans. “But it’s not a bad place to be lost in.”

  Her cool blue eyes raked down his front. “You’ll probably be rethinking that opinion soon.”

  “Will I?” He pressed the button on the fob to his rental as he took a few steps her way, breathing the mountain air deep into his lungs. “Seems pretty nice to me.”

  One pale brow slowly lifted.

  He stopped.

  Women were usually where he started. They were a wealth of information, and generally happy to share just about anything with him.

  This one appeared to be an exception.

  Her icy eyes narrowed at him. “I can guarantee whatever you’re looking for isn’t here.” She turned to walk away.

  “Who said I was looking for anything?”

  Craig expected her to stop.

  At least pause.

  Didn’t happen.

  Her long strides didn’t slow at all as she walked away, rounding the corner of the last building lining the short street and disappearing from sight, leaving him standing in the middle of the road staring after her.

  He knew this wasn’t going to be a simple task. Figured finding Lance’s birth father would be difficult.

  He wasn’t expecting it to be impossible though, and that was what it might be.

  This was the last lead Craig had, and it was thinner than the line he’d walked between legal and not to get here, to the barely-there blip of Shadow Pine.

  The tiny town felt familiar as hell. Probably because it was strikingly similar to the one he just left.

  The one that brought him here.

  “Watch out.”

  Craig took a few fast steps back as a bicycle flew past him, the kid on it flailing wildly as he tried to maintain control of the two-wheeler with one hand while the other struggled to balance a plastic-wrapped plate of cookies. Pure instinct had him chasing the little boy down, grabbing at the bike as it leaned dangerously far to the left. He caught the rider under the armpits as the bike toppled, sending it skidding across the pavement and the plate of cookies sailing. “I got ya.”

  “Let me go.” The boy started swinging almost immediately, one fist connecting with the underside of Craig’s jaw.

  “Hold up.” Craig tipped his head back as the other arm came his way. “I’m not trying to hurt you.”

  “You better not. My mom will kill you.” The boy switched from punches to elbows, one bony little joint jabbing right into Craig’s ribcage.

  He waited until the kid had both feet under him, letting go the second it happened, holding both hands up as the boy spun to face him. “I was just trying to keep you from hitting the ground.”

  The little boy’s clear blue eyes narrowed as they looked Craig up and down in a way that was strikingly similar to the woman he met seconds ago. “Who are you?”

  “I’m Craig.” He held out one hand.

  The kid’s eyes narrowed even more on the offered appendage. “I don’t know you.”

  “That is true.” Craig slowly pulled his hand back.

  This kid clearly heard the stranger danger talk more than once. Probably a good thing, considering the way the world was these days.

  “If I don’t know you then you shouldn’t be here.” The boy picked up his bike, righting it before swinging one leg over.

  “Wait.” Craig bent down and picked up the plate of cookies from the spot where they landed face-down. He slowly flipped it over, doing his best to keep the wrap in place. “Don’t forget your—”

  The cookies were a crumbled mess.

  The boy’s eyes went wide. “Sam is going to kill me.” He snatched the paper plate from Craig’s hands.

  “I bet they still taste just fine.” Craig resisted the urge to step in closer. Dealing with kids was not his strong suit, especially since intimidation was a big part of his arsenal.

  Along with charm. Neither of which were a viable option in this circumstance.

  Unfortunately, so far this kid was his best option for gaining information.

  Also currently his only option.

  “Are you from here?”

  The boy’s eyes snapped to a storefront across the street before bouncing back. “You can’t talk to me. It’s the rules.”

  “Jude.” A sharp voice snapped from the sidewalk behind Craig.

  The little boy leaned around him, eyes widening. “I wasn’t talking to him.”

  Craig faced the woman who stood perfectly straight, arms crossed over her chest, glaring at him with crystal blue eyes that perfectly matched both the first woman he met, and the kid behind him.

  Her attention shifted to the boy. “I know, honey.” The line of her mouth barely softened. “Go home.”

  She waited for Jude to scramble away, her eyes following his path down the street. When he was out of sight her gaze slowly shifted back to Craig. “I think you’re lost.”

  That was twice now. Twice he’d been told what he was, and twice the woman doing it did so with a level of disdain that made one thing very clear.

  Charm and flattery wasn’t getting him anywhere in this place. It was time to change tactics.

  Already.

  Craig slowly shook his head as he walked toward her. “Definitely not lost.”

  The woman didn’t look even a little concerned that a strange man was coming closer. If anything she stood taller, her chin tipping back just a little in a silent challenge.

  She reminded him of some other women he knew, which meant intimidation was unequivocally off the table.

  “Unless you’re a logger or a hunter there is nothing for you here.”

  “That’s not what I heard.” What he’d heard was a crazy tale from an old man drinking bottom-shelf tequila in a dirty dive bar. And chances were good only half what he said was even close to some semblance of the truth.

  If that.

  She barely smiled. “You shouldn’t believe everything you hear.”

  “Oh, I don’t, Miss—”

  Cr
aig waited.

  Then waited some more.

  The smile on her lips widened just a hair. “I’d be happy to give you directions to the next town over. I’m sure you’ll find it much more interesting.”

  “I highly doubt that.” He knew when he started out this morning that coming here was a crap shoot. That chances were good Shadow Pine was just as dead of an end as all the other ones he’d chased down in his search for a ghost of a family.

  But it was looking like that might have been an incorrect assumption.

  Because there was definitely something going on here.

  “I’m looking for Daniel Karlson.” Craig watched her eyes for any flicker of recognition. “I was told he lives here.”

  “That’s interesting.” The woman barely shrugged. “It’s also wrong.” She tipped her head to one side, the long blonde hair she wore tied into a loose bun flopping with the movement. “There’s no Daniel Karlson here.” She smiled. It wasn’t a kind version of the expression. More a self-satisfied one. “Guess you’re in the wrong place after all.”

  “You know the names of every person who lives here?”

  She let out an amused snort. “Did you not see the size of it when you drove in?” The woman took a step toward him, her bright white canvas sneakers closing most of the gap left between them. “It’s not hard to know everyone in a town this size.”

  “And you’re sure there’s no one here named Daniel Karlson?”

  “Positive.” She didn’t hesitate. Didn’t take a second to consider the answer she served up.

  That didn’t change what it was.

  A lie.

  “Well that’s too bad.” Craig scanned the street, taking in the newer buildings lining the freshly poured sidewalks. All of them had similar lines and finishes, making it seem like the same person was responsible for building them all. “I’d hate to see a man miss out on his inheritance.”

  When charm and intimidation fell short there was always one tool left, and generally it was the most effective.

  Money.

  “I’m sure he’ll be upset.” The woman smiled at him. “But I don’t really care.” She backed away, heading in the opposite direction that the first woman left. “Guess he’ll have to work for his money like everyone else.”

  For the second time in under ten minutes he was shut down by a beautiful woman.

  Hard.

  Luckily he’d gotten used to it.

  If the past year taught Craig nothing else, he definitely came out of it with a greater level of humility.

  Being passed over by every woman in town will do that to a man.

  And lucky him, it looked like it was going to happen again.

  Craig still wasn’t leaving.

  Not until he saw for himself the old man’s stories were just that.

  Stories.

  None of the buildings were marked. No signs. No big, uncovered windows displaying the interiors to help him narrow down which was the one he was looking for.

  The one owned by Daniel Karlson.

  The potential half-brother of a friend. The key to Lance’s past and the truth behind a legend.

  The only option was to start at one end and pay a visit to everyone in town. Maybe he’d find a friendly face eventually.

  Maybe not. Didn’t matter. He wasn’t leaving until he had what he came for.

  Craig went the way the second woman left, walking straight to the last building and whipping open the door. The smell of warm sugar and yeast immediately surrounded him.

  “You don’t give up do you, City Boy?” The woman who sent Jude on his way stared at him from across the gleaming counter separating the front of the building and the back. A crisp white apron was tied over the plain white shirt and blue jeans she wore. “I told you. There’s nothing here for you.”

  “You said that, but it seems like there’s plenty here for me.” Craig walked into the bakery. “You could have mentioned there were cookies.”

  “There’s also cookies in Olympia.”

  “Olympia is a long way away.” Craig leaned to peek into the glass-front display cases holding baked goods of all kinds.

  “I know.”

  He straightened. “Can I get some cookies?”

  “Will you leave then?”

  Craig leaned against the edge of the case. “Of course.”

  She’d lied to him earlier. Happily.

  He was more than fine returning the favor.

  “Fine.” The woman whipped out a white cardboard box, deftly folding it into shape as she stepped to the sliding doors at the back of the display. “What do you want?”

  “I want whatever you think I will like best.”

  She stared him down, not even looking as she cleared out the oatmeal raisin tray, dropping them haphazardly into the box. Once they were in, she closed the lid and dropped it onto the counter between them. “There you go.” She waved. “Bye.”

  Craig pulled out his wallet. “How much are the best cookies in Shadow Pine?”

  “Consider it a parting gift.” She smiled again. “Make sure you don’t choke on them.”

  “I will chew carefully.” Craig took the box, lifting it up. “Thank you.”

  She didn’t answer, just watched with shrewd eyes as he backed away, bumping open the door and stepping outside.

  This side of the street had not served him well outside providing a snack to tide him over until he could get out of this less-than-welcoming mountain town.

  Maybe it wasn’t as much like Greenlea as he initially thought.

  Craig jogged across the street, scanning the deserted space.

  It was quiet as hell here. Outside of the two women and Jude, he’d seen no one else. It made sense considering the place was in the middle of nowhere, tucked into a valley just outside the Olympic National Forest.

  But it looked awfully nice for a tiny scrap of a place that couldn’t get much foot traffic. All the buildings were well-kept and neat as hell. Clean. Stylish.

  Early spring flowers bloomed in beds cut around the sidewalks and in the shallow boxes across nearly every window. Daffodils, tulips, and hyacinth were everywhere, lightly scenting the air with a softly feminine natural perfume.

  The town was cute. Quaint.

  Not at all what he expected when the old man at the bar told him about a place ran by a single family.

  A single family cast out from society.

  Shamed.

  Shunned.

  All because of one man.

  One very crazy man.

  There was one building that was much larger than the others. It stood in the center of the street opposite the bakery. The outside was a buttery yellow and the petunias spilling from the windows were soft pink.

  Probably some sort of boutique.

  But it was the biggest, most prominent structure in the town, and right now getting to the bottom of what was probably one more wild goose chase meant Craig could be back in his rental car and on his way.

  Completely. He’d been at this for too long already.

  But going back to life as he knew it sounded almost as appealing as continuing to track down the untrackable.

  Craig pulled out a cookie and took a bite as he made his way to the double doors leading inside. Two steps into the place and it was clear he’d made a terrible error in judgment.

  This was no boutique.

  A mountain lion stared down at him from its perch, ears flat, mouth open in warning.

  It was huge with glossy fur and startling eyes.

  But the cougar was nothing compared to the bear tucked deeper in the shop. The grizzly stood on its hind legs, stretched to its full height, leaves and branches artfully scattered at its feet.

  “Can I help you?” A man eyed him from behind a wood counter. He was leaned against the marred surface, pen in one hand, calculator sitting under the fingers of the other.

  Craig swallowed down the wad of oatmeal raisin stuck to the roof of his mouth, managing to do it without t
he choking his baker friend was so hopeful might happen. “I hope so.” He stepped past a wild turkey, its tail fully extended, spread wide around the bird’s body. “I’m looking for Dan-” The cookie Craig thought cleared his airway bounced around, cutting off the rest of the name the man from the bar gave him.

  “You’re looking for Danny?” The man behind the counter straightened. “What for?”

  The guy was huge. Wide. Thick beard and suspicious eyes.

  Brown suspicious eyes.

  The Wolffsens Norse heritage was clear. Each was blonde and blue-eyed. He’d assumed Lance’s family would be the same.

  Craig also assumed they’d be easy enough to find.

  He’d been wrong as hell.

  “We have a mutual friend.”

  It was a stretch.

  A long one, but whatever it took at this point.

  Craig was ready to be done with this.

  Even if it meant having to tell Lance he couldn’t find his biological father.

  “Who?”

  The man was calling his bluff.

  That was fine. He was past the point of caring. This was the single most frustrating case he’d ever worked. In an age of technology and unlimited information, this family had somehow managed to be completely invisible.

  And it was frustrating as hell.

  “Lance Stafford.” There was nothing left for Craig to use but the truth. His arsenal was as drained as his desire to continue this case was becoming.

  Might as well throw it all at the wall and see what stuck.

  The man watched him for a second, eyes moving slowly over him. Assessing.

  Just as Craig started to think he was finally going to admit his identity, the man leaned back, tipping his head toward an open doorway behind him. “Hey, Danny. Some man’s here to see you. Says he knows someone you know.”

  “Thanks.” Craig stepped closer, lifting the lid to the box still in his hands. “Cookie?”

  The big man leaned to peek in. “Those oatmeal raisin?”

  “Yup.”

  The guy’s lip curled as he pulled away. “You hate yourself?”

  “This is all the woman at the bakery would give me.” He pulled another one out and took a bite. “She didn’t seem to be a fan of mine.”

  The man waved one hand. “Sam’s always like that. Don’t take it personal.”

  Finally. Someone in town who didn’t look at him like a smear of shit on their shoe. He shoved one hand out. “Craig.”