Chapter 1
If only humans were as predictable as the monkeys she’d come back to Ocala to study. Delilah Paige Atwood took a sip of her coffee and sighed. Expression carefully bland, she studied the patrons at the Corner Café while she uploaded her latest batch of photos and research notes using the free Wi-Fi. At least part of her plan had worked. No one appeared to have seen through her disguise or questioned the name Delilah Paige. Equally noteworthy, no one from her antigovernment, paranoid family had burst through the door with guns blazing, furious that she’d dared to come back to town.
It was the other part that worried her. She’d spent every morning of the past two weeks eavesdropping on the locals, and she still had no idea how to find her family. Her sister would be sixteen in two weeks, which meant Delilah was running out of time.
She shut down her laptop and had just tucked her field journals into their zippered compartment when the bell above the door jangled merrily. The whisper of awareness that slid down her spine told her without looking that Josh Tanner—“Hollywood” to his friends—had just walked in.
His eyes lit up when he spotted her, and that breath-stealing grin flustered her, just as it did. Every. Single. Time. While he ordered coffee, she reorganized her backpack, hoping he didn’t notice her ridiculous blush. After her isolated childhood, she’d spent years studying people’s social interactions like a research project, desperate to learn how to behave, what to say, how to relate to others. She’d learned to look people in the eye, go on dates, and even thought herself in love once, but every shred of her hard-won poise vanished whenever he walked in.
He…unsettled her. And intrigued her in equal measure.
Something about his kind eyes, his sometimes-sad eyes, whispered to a part of her she hadn’t known existed. To say nothing of his movie-star good looks and the intimate smile that made her fumble and stammer. Still, she kept showing up at the café, hoping for more of his fun, flirty banter, despite the uncomfortable fact that he was FWC, a Florida Fish & Wildlife Conservation Commission officer. His uniform alone should have sent her running, but somehow, the man wearing it had snuck under her defenses and tempted her to linger over her coffee cup.
You have more important things to do, her mind chided.
Five minutes won’t change anything, her heart countered.
It was selfish, she knew, to put her wants above Mary for even a second, but she couldn’t make herself leave. Not yet. Ten minutes. No more.
“Good morning. How’s my favorite monkey researcher today?” Josh asked as he strolled to her table and turned a chair around. He straddled it, sipping the coffee he’d just purchased and eyeing her over the rim.
She raised a brow and sent him a cheeky grin. “I’m pretty sure I’m the only monkey researcher you know.” Was that really her voice, sounding all low and sultry?
“True, but you’re still my favorite.”
She laughed and gripped her coffee cup as she tried to think of something witty to say. He’d propped his sunglasses on top of his head, and she couldn’t help studying the khaki uniform that molded to him like a second skin. She dragged her gaze away from his chest in time to realize he’d been studying her, too.
“You have paint on your fingers.” He pointed.
Delilah glanced down at the traces of dark green she’d missed when she’d scrubbed her hands. “Thankfully, most of it’s on the camper.” She sent him what she hoped was a casual smile. “It’s done and it looks good, if I do say so myself.” Getting the camper habitable had been step one, so she and Mary would have a place to stay.
“I’m sure it looks great. Can’t wait to see it. So where are you headed today?”
Her stomach did a little flip. Did he really want to see her camper and spend time with her away from here? Or was that just Josh being a nice guy and making conversation? She’d never seen him flirt with anyone—except her. And he always seemed to end up sitting at her table. But chatting over coffee and inviting him into her home were two very different things.
She couldn’t begin to think about all that right now. “I figured I’d swing by Tanner’s Outpost and rent a kayak from your sister, see if I can track down one of the other monkey troops today. Babies are starting to arrive,” she added, grinning. She would also scout out the area, check if anyone had seen the Atwoods recently. She wasn’t overly optimistic they would tell her even if they knew, but she had to try. And she’d keep trying until she found them. “The other troop I’ve been watching this week has been hanging out just south of the Silver River, near one of the trails in the state park. Lots of people have gathered out there, watching them.”
He straightened, suddenly serious. “Have you found anyone feeding them?”
Frustration washed over her. “Unfortunately, yes. I tried to educate the family. They’re from Michigan, so I likened feeding the monkeys to what happens if you feed bears. I think I got through.” She hoped. This was why her research mattered so much. She wanted to prove that instances of so-called aggression toward humans would be severely lessened, if not eliminated, if people quit offering them food.
“Did I hear you say monkeys?” another voice asked.
Delilah looked up, and all her instincts went on alert as a tall, thirtysomething man with thinning hair pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. Not as tall as Josh, his pale skin and doughy shape said he spent most of his time at a desk somewhere. He extended a hand across the table, and Delilah hesitated before she shook it, instantly recoiling from his damp palm. He didn’t seem to notice her reaction, but Josh did. He grinned and sent her a flirty wink that made butterflies swoop in her stomach.
“Casey Wells, with the local paper.” He hitched a thumb over his shoulder. “Folks say you’re from Florida State University, studying our Silver Springs monkeys this summer.”
Wary, Delilah nodded. “It’s part of my master’s program in anthropology.” She didn’t tell him her grant was from the National Geographic Society or exactly what her study of the rhesus macaques entailed. She’d earned her disdain of the media the old-fashioned way—she’d inherited it from her government-fearing family.
Wells nodded. “Good for you.” He glanced between the two of them, smirked. “I’m just curious. After yesterday’s incident, do you agree with the Florida Fish & Wildlife Conservation Commission that the monkeys should be removed because they’re not indigenous?”
Delilah froze, and a chill slid down her back. “What incident?”
Wells smiled smugly. “There’s a video online that has gone viral, showing the monkeys charging a family of tourists in the state park.”
Was that the same family she’d spoken to? She narrowed her gaze. “And did they feed the monkeys?”