They suddenly broke out of the tree line. In front of him, he saw the split-pea-soup-colored river. That color always signaled that its source was a glacier far above them, the water icy cold.
“Sandy!” Andy yelled, waving her hand frantically at a woman sitting near the wooden platform where photographers could shoot photos.
Dev saw a redheaded woman in her forties sitting down on the grassy bank, distressed. Her nose was bleeding and she was leaning over, her hands on her booted ankle.
“Andy!” she shrieked. “Oh my God! It’s you!”
“Hold on,” Andy yelled. “We’re here to help!”
Dev quickly strode up to her shoulder.
“This is Sandy”
“Yeah,” he huffed, “she’s the radio dispatcher for the Lincoln County Sheriff ’s Department. We met her about a month ago when we were setting everything up.”
“She’s a good friend of my mother,” Andy gasped, running hard now.
In less than a minute, they were there with Sandy, who was crying, her nose still bleeding, her lip split. Dev looked around. The bank area was spongy, wet with lots of long grass. What had happened to her? He saw a lot of grass smashed down around her.
“Hey,” Andy said, kneeling down, her hand on her left shoulder, “what happened?”
Wiping her nose with a shaky hand, Sandy growled, “I was hiking this morning and two guys, druggies, attacked me.” She pointed to the tree line. “I came out of the trees and they jumped me. I fought back.” Her blue eyes slitted. “Those two are part of the Elson gang from the southern part of the valley.”
Dev knelt down near her right shoulder. “How long ago did this happen, Sandy?”
“About an hour ago. I busted my ankle. It hurts like hell and it’s swelling. Can you call dispatch at the sheriff’s office? You’re carrying a radio on you, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” he said quickly, shrugging out of his knapsack. Andy was digging into hers, bringing out a cloth, handing it to her so she could press it to her bleeding nose. Her khaki trouser leg had been pulled up to her knee, revealing the black, purple and blue colors, plus the swelling around the top of her boot, probably caused by her ankle. It didn’t look good at all. “I’m going to call the sheriff’s office, but we need to get the Black Hawk medevac up here to take you down. You can’t walk on that thing.”
She snorted, anger in her voice along with frustration. “Don’t tell me about it. I tried to walk and I can’t. The bones are grinding against one another.” She looked beyond them at the meadow that stretched out to the north. “Can you land that thing up here?”
“Yeah,” Andy said, straightening, looking warily at the tree line and then at the meadow. “There’s plenty of space for it to land. Might be a little spongy and damp, but I don’t think it will sink into the soil.”
“Can you go check it out?” Dev asked her. He pulled out a holster that held a .45 pistol in it. “Strap this on, and take off the safety. There’s a bullet in the chamber. We don’t know if these guys are still lurking around.” He didn’t want to take chances with the two women.
“Thanks,” Andy said, strapping on the weapon. She knew how to handle a pistol and swiftly took the safety off it so she could draw and shoot if necessary. “I’ll stay in sight.”
“We’ve had a few attacks up here,” Sandy said, her voice somewhat muffled, the cloth pressed to her nose. “Maybe one a month or something like that, summer only.”
Dev called in to the sheriff’s office and told them what was going on. The only helicopter in the valley was the medevac. Two sheriff’s deputies were going to ride up with it to the meadow and stay behind to treat the area as a crime scene. In the meantime, they’d get Sandy to the ER at the Wind River Hospital. Dev was sure that if the deputies found anything of import, they’d ask that they fly up the forensic team when they came to pick them up from the crime site.
He divided his attention between Sandy, who seemed very self-sufficient and stable despite what she’d gone through, and Andy, who was in the meadow now, testing the impaction of the soil, determining where best to land the Black Hawk to transport Sandy down the mountain. Finally, she chose a spot, and taking long, orange plastic strips out of her knapsack, which she always carried with her, she laid out a ten-foot-long “X” where the Hawk should land.
Andy returned as he signed off. He quickly told her what was going on, and that the Hawk would be up there in about twenty minutes.
“How are you feeling, Sandy?” she asked, kneeling down, facing the tree line and watching for any unusual movement.
“Much better.” Her lips twisted. “My cell phone doesn’t work up here. My intuition told me to take a dispatch radio with me, but I ignored it. If I’d had that on me, I could have radioed for help and not sat up here like a boob for an hour screaming for help.” She pushed her fingers through her red hair, which was partially pulled out of her ponytail. “I’m so shaken by this, Andy. Prater Canyon is our most-used tourist place. Hikers from around the world use this trail. This is awful. Those two dudes were mean, and they meant business.”
“But you fought them anyway,” and Andy patted her shoulder gently.
“Hell yes! They jumped me from behind. You know I have a black belt in karate, right?”
“Yes, it’s one of the first things Maud told me, proudly, about you. Kick ass, take names.”
“Well,” she grumped, glaring at the trail on which she’d been attacked, “I know for sure I broke one guy’s arm. I heard it crack. That ended their attack on me. When I didn’t melt and surrender, it surprised them.”
“Were they carrying?” Dev asked. Standing up, he placed the radio on top of his knapsack. His gaze was sweeping the tree line.
“They looked like hikers,” Sandy said, pulling the cloth away from her nose. “I didn’t see any weapons on them.” The bleeding had stopped. Andy took it and went to the bank of the river, kneeled down and washed out the blood and then returned to Sandy, who thanked her and placed the cold cloth against her swollen, lower split lip.
“Do you think you can identify them?” Andy asked, remaining close to her, looking at the continued swelling of her ankle above the boot. She had a bad break, there was no question, and she had to be in pain, but Sandy was so angry, the pain probably wasn’t even registering on her right now.
“I’ve never seen either of them before. But once I get this ankle taken care of, I want someone from the sheriff’s department to send me photos of the Elson gang. Kaen’s the one who says he owns these mountains, that this is their ‘territory.’” She snorted, glaring at the trail behind her.
“So? It could be someone other than Elson?” Dev asked, above them, standing guard.
“Maybe,” Sandy muttered. “But my gut tells me it was Elson’s gang. He doesn’t like Hispanics and blacks, and he only hires skinhead white supremacists and Nazi sympathizers.” She looked up at him. “There were several Nazi tattoos on the backs of their necks.”
“Damn,” Andy said, shaking her head. “They attacked from the rear. What did they want?”
“My knapsack,” and she jerked a thumb in the direction in which it was laying, one strap torn free from the red nylon body. “I think they were looking for money, credit cards, a cell phone to steal. All of those things can be sold. And junkies need to feed their habit. Why not jump a forty-year-old woman out in the middle of nowhere?”
“Bastards,” Andy breathed, her anger rising.
“You said you broke one of their arms. Do you think they’ll go to the hospital for help?”
“I don’t know, but I’d be calling Wind River Hospital to talk to the head nurse, letting her know. Also, they need a deputy to get over there just in case. I didn’t see any weapons on them, but they could be carrying them in their knapsacks.”
“Good idea,” Dev said, picking up the radio. He walked about ten feet away, closer to the wide, green river that was swiftly flowing and made the call to the nursing supervisor. He contin
ued to sweep the area, not trusting that the two goons had left. What bothered him more was that he and Andy hadn’t met them coming down from this area and the attack had occurred an hour ago. It was possible they’d trotted down the trail, made it to the parking lot below and were gone before they’d arrived. He wondered if any of the teens flying drones might have seen them. He’d be sure to let the deputies know about it for when they canvassed the area.
“I’m so pissed,” Sandy growled, pointing at her bruised, swollen ankle. “I’ll be in a cast for at least six weeks! This is the only time of the year, our short summer season, I get to hike. I love to hike. Damn them!”
Patting her shoulder, Andy said sympathetically, “At least we found you. This is a Thursday and not a lot of people are hiking, unless they’re tourists.”
“Yeah,” she bit out, glaring at the surrounding area. “If no one came, the next problem I’d have is a grizzly getting my scent, attacking and killing me. I don’t carry on the trail, but I’ll tell you, now I will. I have a license to carry a concealed weapon and it’s way past time I start doing it.” She patted her knapsack. “At least I carry a quart of bear spray on me.”
Smoothing her hand gently across her grass-stained white tee, Andy said, “It’s going to be all right, Sandy. Take a few deep breaths. We’re here and we’re going to get you taken care of.”
Chapter Fifteen
September 5
Wednesday, 9:00 a.m.
The first snow had fallen five days earlier and Andy loved that small window of a week or so of Indian summer that would follow. She was hiking in the southern end of the valley in the Salt Range, showing Dev some of the little-known but beautiful hiking trails in the area. The morning air was near freezing and the higher in elevation they climbed, the colder it got. They were at five thousand feet, breathing hard with the change of altitude as they worked toward a small lake that sat at seven thousand feet above them. The river from that lake fed into the mighty Snake River, miles down on the other side of the mountain trail. The morning had a decided bite in the air and they were wearing goose down jackets, their knapsacks on their back. Dev walked ahead of her on the narrow, rarely used trail. The deciduous trees were in full autumn splendor, bright reds, yellows and orange leaves looking like errant splotches of tempera paint thrown between the dark green of the Douglas fir that surrounded them. She could smell the wonderful scent of decaying leaves across the brown pine needles that rolled out in front of them like an endless carpet.
Today was special. She sensed it. Since the incident with Sandy, who was well on her way to recovery, their relationship had changed, deepened, become central to her life. Living with Dev just across the hall from her, sharing a hot tub on most nights with him, was a pure pleasure she always looked forward to. She’d told her mother yesterday that she was falling in love with him, even though she’d never mentioned it to Dev. Yet. Today was the day. Andy could tell by the look in his large, intelligent eyes that he cared deeply for her. Since their talk about friendship, she’d felt him monitoring himself closely not to overstep his bounds with her. Sometimes, she saw he wanted to become more intimate, but he didn’t go there. And she could swear there were a couple of times that he’d wanted to kiss her.
There were nothing but good things with Dev in her life. Maud had reminded her a week ago that she and Steve had been friends for a long time before stepping on to the next, serious step of an intimate, monogamous relationship. Andy had confided that she was ready to take that step, and Maud’s eyes shone with happiness.
Tonight, they were pitching a tent, staying overnight and coming back next afternoon. One tent, two sleeping bags. Together. Yes, the time was right. And Dev knew it, too, even though he didn’t say much about it. His actions always spoke louder than his words, and she smiled a secret smile as they crested a ridge. She ached for him, her heart never so full of happiness before now.
She saw Dev halt abruptly at the top, his hands going to his hips, his mouth moving into a thin line as he surveyed the meadow below him. Coming abreast of him, she asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Look, bales of drugs are strung out all across that meadow,” he muttered, scowling.
Her brows fell, too. “Crap. Drug smugglers dropping bales from a plane?” She saw that at least twenty bales, wrapped in thick black plastic, were scattered for nearly the entire half-mile-long oval meadow below them.
“Yes,” he muttered, his hand going to the holster holding his pistol on his right thigh.
She studied the area. “There’s an old US Forest road that comes into the north end of that meadow,” she said, pointing in that direction, although the woods prevented them from seeing it from where they stood. “I was talking with Sarah, the sheriff, the other day. When I told her we were going up this trail, she said for us to be careful, that a lot of drug activity had started up in this area lately.”
Dev turned, looking behind them. “I don’t think we should go down there. We don’t know when the druggies are going to pick these bales up. And they’ll shoot us on sight, Andy.” He gave her a concerned look, wanting her reaction.
Disappointed, she nodded. “I was thinking the same thing.” They were in an isolated and mostly uninhabited area. Tourists never came down to this region. Most of the good hiking trails were around Prater Canyon, far to the north from where they were presently. Drug drops were done under cover of darkness, that much she knew. “I always thought these guys picked up their bales at night.”
Shrugging, Dev continued to warily look around them. “Maybe their truck broke down? But yes, night drops and pickups are the norm. Not in broad daylight,” and he gestured to the bales sitting out in the meadow for all to see.
“We’re too deep into the mountains to call out on our radio or our cell phones. We’re out of range. There’s no way to contact Sarah at the sheriff’s office to let her know what we stumbled on to either.”
“We need to leave, Andy. This is too dangerous,” he muttered darkly, turning around, facing her. “Let’s go back the way we came up. We’re two miles from the trailhead where I parked my truck.” He pulled out his iPhone and took photos of the drug drop below them. This would be proof for law enforcement, once they made it down the side of the mountain.
“Agreed. I wonder if our radio will work as we get to the lower altitude and closer to where the truck is parked.”
“I don’t know,” Dev said. “Let me lead. You watch our six. If you need me, grab my arm, and no talking. We don’t know if these drug soldiers are coming up the same trail we just took or not.” He grimaced. “Feels like we’re back in Afghanistan after the crash, dammit.”
“Why would they be in our area? There’s a dirt road at the end of that meadow they can drive up to those bales to get them.”
“What if they have other drug soldiers around to ensure no one sees these bales coming up the trail as we just did?” he demanded, swiveling his gaze where they stood.
“Point well taken.” Andy sighed. “Crap.”
He reached out, grazing her cheek. “We had a lot of plans for this hike.”
“I know.” She caught his hand, placing a swift kiss on the back of it. The flare in his eyes told her it was well received. How badly she wanted to finally kiss this man and then love him. She knew without a doubt that Dev would be a considerate lover, putting her first, not last. Well, that was out the door, too, and she frowned. Releasing his hand, she said, “There are some feeder trails off this main one, if we spot someone or hear another party coming along.”
“We have one pistol between us,” he said in a quiet tone as he bent his head toward hers, wanting to keep noise to a minimum.
Her heart was starting a slow pound, and an ugly, snaking sensation started deep in her stomach, tightening it. Compressing her lips, she rasped, “Dammit, you’re right; this is just like Afghanistan.”
He reached out, gripping her hand. “Yeah, drug soldiers instead of the Taliban. Both will kill us.”
&
nbsp; “I thought we were done with that.”
His grin was sour as he regarded her. “I don’t want a repeat either.”
“There are no caves to hide in here either,” she warned him.
“No, but there are lots of woods and they’re thick, hard to see other people even if they’re nearby, a camouflage of sorts.”
“And we had shrubs and large bushes in places where the sun can get through the treetops,” she said, pointing to a huge fourteen-foot bush that was at least six feet in length; no one could see through it to the other side.
He regarded the area. “You’re right. Good to duck behind, so we could lay flat and not move if we heard or saw them coming.”
Her nostrils quivered as she dragged in a huge breath of air. Her skin was covered with goose bumps. “Let’s get going.”
Nodding, Dev leaned down, pressing a kiss to her hair. “Stay close. We’ll get out of this together.”
Her scalp tingled. It was the first time he’d kissed her. The look in his dark-green eyes was filled with promise, tenderness, and then followed by a sense of protection coming around her. They might be equals, but she felt he wanted to make sure she wasn’t a target, too. She felt similarly toward Dev and would rather have been in the lead instead of him. Knowing this area was her expertise.
They moved grimly down the narrow, rocky path. She felt the hair on the back of her neck raise. Grabbing at Dev’s arm, she gripped him hard.
Instantly, he stopped.
“There’s someone nearby,” she said in a low voice as he turned. She saw the hardness in his features now, just as before, in Afghanistan. His warrior side was operational, just as hers was.
“Where?”
“I don’t know. The hair on the back of my neck is standing straight up. Whoever it is, they’re close, Dev.” She knew he understood her alarm. Her intuition wasn’t logical, but it had saved them numerous times while running from the Taliban. He took her seriously, his head snapping up.
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