CHAPTER 1
Custer City, South Dakota, Present Day
Jenna Reynolds pedaled her eighteen-speed Trek mountain bike up the hill on Main Street past dozens of Harleys and custom-built bikes. She was scanning the crowd of noon bikers, looking for familiar faces and those who might cause trouble. Today was the first weekend of the Sturgis Rally. Every year, hundreds of thousands of bikers from all over the world converged on the Black Hills in South Dakota to show off their bikes, eat, listen to music, and shop.
Businesses in the Black Hills area loved that time of year. Campgrounds and hotels were filled for miles around. Jenna really enjoyed the rally. She usually had to put in long hours at the sheriff 's department during this week, but she didn't mind. She'd become acquainted with many of the same bikers who stayed in Custer City each year during the rally. The streets in most Black Hills towns had special bike parking. The center of the road was blocked off with dozens of orange traffic cones so that motorcycles could park right down the middle of the road. There was still some auto and truck traffic but not as much as during other weeks of summer. There were always a few tourists without motorcycles who ventured to the Black Hills during the Sturgis Rally.
Today, Jenna was looking for one particular face in the crowd. It was lunchtime, and she figured most people tended to eat in the same places. As she rode past dozens of people milling about in the shade of the noontime sun, she drew looks from many. Jenna knew that some of the curious stares were because she was a female sheriff 's deputy riding a bicycle through a town filled with motorcycles. Many of the glances toward her were because of her long auburn plait sticking out of her bike helmet, hanging down her back, her sleekly firm body and long shapely legs showing beneath department-issue shorts that fell just above her knees. She ignored the stares and waved at familiar faces from previous rallies as she searched for one specific biker. She pulled her mountain bike onto the sidewalk, dismounted, and let down the kickstand.
"Hey, Jenna, when you gonna turn those training wheels in for a real bike, huh?" a voice rang out, dripping with the twang of the Deep South.
Jenna turned and grinned, just the person she was looking for. "Hi, Dutch. I'll be back tonight after my shift is over around eight. I can't wait to show you my new paint job. I did it myself," Jenna replied with a grin. She had been rebuilding and working on the vintage Harley for the past few years.
Dutch enveloped her in a great big bear hug. "And that young officer of yours?"
"Oh, not bad. And he's a colonel now. He just got transferred as the base commander here at Ellsworth. How have you been?" Jenna looked over Dutch with a critical eye. She kept up with only a few bikers through e-mail and Facebook and knew that Dutch had suffered a heart attack since last year. She had a special place in her heart for the balding, aging, overweight investment banker from Atlanta. He had been one of the first people she met after earning her deputy's badge. She was breaking up a fight between two young bikers and some of Dutch's friends. Dutch hadn't helped her, which she was grateful for. He did tell her later that he was watching the "new little law lady" just to make sure she could handle herself. Jenna had arrested four men during the incident that night, earning Dutch's respect and that of other bystanders. Her reputation spread fast. However, every year, there were always a few macho men who either tried challenging her authority or tried to date her.
Dutch said, "I'm just fine, good as new. I'm eating better and exercising. Hey, can't you tell I've lost a few pounds?" He spread his arms wide and pirouetted on the spot.
Jenna laughed. "Dutch, you never cease to amaze me. I'm glad you're doing better. Your e-mails have been reassuring, but I wanted to see for myself that you're recovering well. Facebook pictures don't do your new physique justice."
"In fact, I'm so fine that I was hoping for a spot of horseback riding this year. Do you think your brother could set us up with a few mounts at that fancy horse farm of his?"
"I'm sure he'd be happy to help you out. Just don't let him hear you calling his ranch a farm." She smiled at him, pulled out a pad, wrote down a number, and handed it to Dutch.
"So, are you just on patrol — or are you looking for someone in particular?" Dutch asked shrewdly, noticing that Jenna's eyes were constantly moving, always looking for any trouble appearing unexpectedly.
"You don't miss a thing, do you?" she asked, looking at him directly and grinning sheepishly. "Yeah, I figured Ted Sorenson might be in town by now, and I just wanted to have a chat with him."
"Now, Jenna girl, don't get your badge all ruff led. He's not gonna cause too much trouble this year."
"Okay, big man. What have you heard?"
"Yeah, he's looking for you too. I don't know if he's still the jerk he was last year or if he wants to apologize."
Jenna snorted. "Please. There's no way he's going to apologize. I'll eat my hat if he does. Come on, Dutch. We've both seen it every year since we met. There's always some hotshot biker who thinks I shouldn't be a deputy — or they should try to get me in bed. It's always the same thing. I don't mind so much anymore. I just put them in their place and move on."
"Hey, speaking of bed." Dutch cocked one eye.
"You're so funny. What would your wife say? You've been married what ... thirty years now?"
"Thirty-seven. She's even thinking of stopping by this year. She might fly in with our son. He just got his private pilot's license. Besides, she wants to meet the girl I keep talking about."
"Surely she doesn't suspect us." Jenna grinned. She was quite a knockout, working out to maintain fitness for her job by biking, lifting weights, running, rock climbing, and swimming. She and Dutch laughed hard at her words. He had never tried to come on to her as many other men — young and old — had. He was a real friend during the rally and during the rest of the year. Besides, they were both devout Christians, doing charitable work in their respective communities, but neither one was afraid of a bit of teasing. They were both comfortable with who they were spiritually and with their own sexuality. When he was at the rally, Dutch was like a substitute father figure.
"Okay, business. Do you know where Ted is staying? I want to get this over with and have a good week." Jenna unconsciously straightened her back, standing taller. Dutch had noticed that she did this whenever she was bracing herself for something unpleasant.
"I'm pretty sure he's in the house next to the old church. There's a bunch staying there this year," Dutch replied. "Be careful, Jenna."
"Now, Dad." She f lashed a wide grin. "You know I can take care of myself."
"I know, sweetie. I've just come to think of you as another daughter, so watch your six."
"I will," she said. She knew that Dutch cared for her and wanted her to be safe. Jenna had been an army MP stationed in Iraq, and Dutch had been a marine toward the end of Vietnam. They both definitely knew how to watch their "six." Dutch was telling her to glance around, be aware of her surroundings, and know who was near at all times. That's how people stayed alive in the field. Although neither Jenna nor Dutch expected her to be seriously harmed during the rally, nobody ever knew...
