CHAPTER ONE
“What’s it going to take to get you to cooperate? Money? Threats? Either works for me.”
Dakota Hendrix looked up from her laptop to find a very tall, stern-looking man standing over her. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. What’s it going to take?”
She’d been warned there would be plenty of crazies hanging around, but she hadn’t actually believed it. Apparently she’d been wrong.
“You have a lot of attitude for someone wearing a plaid flannel shirt,” she said, standing so she was at least something close to eye-level with the guy. If he hadn’t
been so obviously annoyed, she would have thought he was pretty decent-looking, with dark hair and piercing blue eyes.
He glanced down at himself, then back at her. “What does my shirt have to do with anything?”
“It’s plaid.”
“So?”
“It’s hard to be intimidated by a man wearing plaid. I’m just saying. And flannel is a friendly fabric. A little own-home for most people. Now if you were in all
black, with a leather jacket, I’d be a lot more nervous.”
His expression tightened, as did a muscle in his jaw. His gaze sharpened, and she had a feeling that if he were just a little less civilized, he would throw something.
“Having a bad day?” she asked cheerfully.
“Something like that.” He spoke between clenched teeth.
“Want to talk about it?”
“I believe that’s how I started this conversation.”
“No. You started by threatening me.” She smiled. “At the risk of sending your annoyance level from an eight to a ten, sometimes being nice is more effective. At least it is with me.” She held out her hand. “Hi. I’m Dakota Hendrix.”
The man looked as if he would rather rip off her head than be polite, but after a couple of deep breaths, he shook hands with her and muttered, “Finn Andersson.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Andersson.”
“Finn.”
“Finn,” she repeated, being more perky than usual, simply because she thought it would bug him. “How can I help you?”
“I want to get my brothers off the show.”
“Hence the threats.”
He frowned. “Hence? Who says that?”
“It’s a perfectly good word.”
“Not where I come from.”
She glanced down at the worn work boots he wore, then back to his shirt. “I’m almost afraid to ask where that is.”
“South Salmon, Alaska.”
“You’re a long way from home.”
“Worse, I’m in California.”
