by Freya Barker
She looks at me surprised. “He did?”
“Yup. He says he’ll grab the club’s truck and take one of the young guys to help him.”
“But that’s no use unless you have a place first,” Autumn points out. “In the meantime, we can gather up a few things here to tide you over. All my baby stuff is at Tahlula’s place. She won’t need it for another few months so that should work. Now what about you? I assume you brought some stuff, but you may need some more clothes. You’re welcome to borrow some of mine, but I think our friend Marya is probably more your size. I’ll give her a call.” She jots down notes as she talks. “I have another friend, Ollie, whose tenants recently announced they’re leaving in two weeks’ time. I’m not sure what she charges for rent, but I’m sure she’ll be reasonable and the place is furnished. She’s married to the chief of police and lives right across the road from her rental house. I’m thinking it wouldn’t be a bad place for you having a cop within yelling distance.”
Jaimie’s eyes fill with tears when she turns them on me. “You hit the jackpot when you moved here.”
I grin at her. “I’m starting to realize that.”
Autumn doesn’t waste any time and starts making calls, while Jaimie nurses her baby, and I keep myself occupied playing with Aleksander, who has taken a shine to my hair. Forty-five minutes later, she has two pages full of notes and an appointment to go see Ollie’s place tomorrow night, when a truck pulls up outside.
“Hey, baby,” Autumn says, getting up as Keith walks in the door. “I didn’t expect you home.”
I watch Jaimie’s face as she lets her eyes roam the length of the police detective. He’s probably taller than Evan and with his broad shoulders, semi-long black hair, and chiseled face, he makes an imposing figure. He hooks his hand behind Autumn’s neck, tugs her close, and kisses her thoroughly. I discreetly avert my eyes, only to catch Jaimie’s wide-eyed ones bulging at me.
“Oh. Em. Gee,” she mouths. “Shoulda fucking moved here years ago,” she adds, but this time not so silently.
“You must be Jaimie?” Keith says, letting go of his wife and offering his hand, with a shit-eating grin on his handsome face. “Just the person I came to see.” Aleksander, who’s been fidgeting on my lap from the moment his dad walked in, lets out a frustrated yelp. “Sorry, buddy.” Keith easily plucks his son off my lap, tossing him in the air before settling him in the crook of his arm. “Your husband’s full name is Robert David Sutherland?”
“Uh, yes?”
“Have you heard of RDS?”
“RDS? No, I don’t think so.”
“I pulled up some information on your husband last night. I see he owns Sutherland Manufacturing?”
“Yes, they make plastic moldings, it’s a family business he inherited.” Jaimie looks confused, but the hair on my neck is standing on end.
“RDS is a Grand Junction-based subsidiary of Sutherland Manufacturing,” Keith says, glancing over at me. “The blue truck?” I know immediately which one he’s talking about. “It’s registered to RDS.”
“Wait,” Jaimie blurts out. “Are you talking about the one that tried to run T off the road? That blue truck?”
Keith doesn’t get a chance to answer her when his phone rings. He drops his son on his wife’s lap and walks into the kitchen to answer it.
“Rob? That doesn’t even make sense, he’s in Montana,” Jaimie directs at me.
I can’t do anything but shrug, as confused as she is. A chill runs down my spine when I remember the Confederate flag covering the truck’s back window. Suddenly I’m worried for my friend. If her husband is part of that nationalist group, she may be in more trouble than she thought.
Oh my God—and Lena. He never made it a secret he hated her working for the agency, is it possible…
“I’ve gotta run.” Keith walks back in and kisses the top of Autumn’s head. “Evacuation orders came through. The wind has turned and everyone west of the 550 down to the 204 has to clear out. I’ll keep you updated.”
“Jesus,” Autumn mutters when he closes the door behind him. “That doesn’t sound good.”
My first thought is with the firemen and women who’ve been battling this blaze for a good week already. My next thought is my house on the south side of the 204. Then I think of Smokey.
“I’ve gotta go,” I announce, jumping to my feet. “You stay here,” I order Jaimie, who looks like a deer caught in the headlights.
“Wait a minute,” Autumn says, grabbing my arm. “Where are you off to?”
“Penelope’s donkey is up at my place, I need to go get him.”
Before she has a chance to answer, I’m already out the door.
Maybe it’s my imagination, but the smoke seems even thicker than before. I can smell the fire from here and my eyes and nose sting.
It takes me a few minutes to navigate through midday traffic in town to get up the mountain on the other side. The driveway is empty when I pull up to the house. Outside I notice how much darker it is with the heavy smoke covering the high sun. What I considered blissful silence before; now seems eerie.
I make my way over to the garage where I can hear the donkey move around restlessly. “It’s okay, buddy,” I coo, opening the side door.
The poor animal’s eyes look wild and his nostrils are flaring. He tries to slip past me, but I’m able to grab onto his halter and walk out with him.
I haven’t really thought any further than getting the donkey out of here, not exactly how I’d manage that. I glance at my vehicle; I’ve never noticed how high off the ground it is, and I wonder how the hell I’m getting Smokey in there. My next thought is about my belongings: my framed copy of my New York Times best-seller listing, my first editions of favorite books I’ve collected over the years, the few pictures I have of Trunk and I growing up. I should get Smokey taken care of first; then I’ll see what else I can rescue.
I try not to think about everything else that could get lost as I open the door and lean down to help the donkey up, who is struggling in my hold. A loud bang sounds behind me, just as I lift its front legs up on the ledge, and at the same time a hot pain stings the back of my thigh.
Swinging my head around I spot a man dressed in camo toting a rifle step out of the trees along my driveway, lifting the gun to take aim at me.
I don’t think, I bolt, leaving Smokey to fend for himself.
As I dart around the house, another bang sounds and splinters flying off the siding sting my face just before I disappear around the corner.
“Stand still, you fucking inbred bitch!”
Thank God for my short-lived track career in high school, because there’s no fucking way I’m even slowing down. Not until I’m about twenty feet into the tree line when a sharp sting in my side has me bend over, my hands on my thighs. That’s when I notice the blood running down my leg, and I realize I’m in even more trouble.
I barely have time to think, though, when a crashing through the underbrush tells me he’s close on my heels. Taking a deep breath in, I force my legs to keep moving, despite the hot throb radiating through my right one.
I’ve been running for what feels like a long time, every so often stopping when a pain stabs my side. Still I can hear the sounds of someone moving through the undergrowth behind me, and my legs are burning. I wish I had my phone, which I left in the center console in the SUV, although I’m not sure I’d be able to get a signal out here.
I have no idea where Smokey ended up, but I’m hoping he was smart enough to stay out of sight.
The sun is high above me and I realize I have no real sense in what direction I’ve been moving, all I’ve been focused on is getting away from whoever is on my tail. I’m fucked. I don’t know where I am, I don’t know which way I should turn, and I’m running out of steam. When a wave of dizziness brings me to my knees, I know I’m done for. About thirty feet to my right, I spot what looks like a crevice in a rock formation I hope might provide a half-decent hiding place. With my eyes
focused on my target, I start crawling on hands and knees.
It takes some doing but I manage to squeeze myself into the narrow space, pull a fallen branch to cover the opening as best I can, and promptly pass out.
21
Evan
We’ve finally been making some headway in the past couple of hours. The winds seem to have died down and, with the extra water tanker called into action; we’ve been able to gain some control of the southward march of the fire. Most of the manpower has been dedicated on the east and south side of the now thirty-eight-thousand-acre monster to keep it from the outskirts of town.
“We’re heading out.” Moose comes walking up, Penelope not far behind.
“Do me a favor,” I ask, “get in touch Tahlula. I can’t get reception here, and she’s probably heard about the evacuation and will be worried about her place.”
“I’ll call her,” Pen promises, as they pass me with a wave on the way to where the vehicles are parked closer to the road.
It’s hard, dirty work and after about four hours of it, when we break for a drink and a bite to eat, I’m filthy and drenched with sweat.
“Cheddar!” Cap calls out when we approach our rig. “Blackfoot is looking for you.”
I grab the phone he holds out. “Keith?”
“I got a call from Autumn. Received word about the evacuation while I stopped in at home. Tahlula and her friend were there. Autumn says Tahlula apparently left shortly after I did to check on her place. That was about an hour ago and they can’t get hold of her. I’m heading up there now, wanted to check if you’ve by chance heard from her.”
“Shit. No, I’ve been out of range.” My heart suddenly starts hammering in my chest.
“Hang tight, I’m coming up on her place.”
My crew must be able to tell something is up because they close in and eye me with concern. “Blackfoot?” I ask anxiously.
“That damn donkey is loose. Came running down the driveway toward me. Her SUV is here. Let me have a look.” I hear rustling and then the crunch of footsteps on gravel. “Tahlula!” he calls her name a few times before coming back on the line. A loud braying can be heard in the background. “Damn donkey won’t leave me alone.” More crunching, and then a hissed, “Shit.”
“What? What the fuck is going on, Blackfoot?”
“Damn, Evan…no sign of her, the house is locked up tight, but there’s blood beside her car. Let me make some calls, I’ll call you right back.”
Fuck that.
“I need a ride,” I tell Blue, ignoring everyone else. She and Sumo are up here with the ambulance, set up as a first aid post. The rest of us came in the truck.
“Can’t just take off with the ambulance,” Cap points out, and I swing around going nose to nose.
“Something’s going on at Tahlula’s place. Blackfoot found blood beside her Lexus but she’s missing.”
“Shit. Sumo, grab a few emergency packs off the rig. Blue, get your ass going and keep us up-to-date.” To me he says, “You need bodies, just say the word. We’ll drum up every off-duty fireman in the county. Now go—fucking find that girl.”
“What if she’s gone into labor?” I think out loud when I climb in the seat beside Blue. I’m afraid to consider other reasons.
“Don’t borrow trouble,” Blue mumbles, but at the same time floors it down the access dirt tracks toward the road, sirens blaring and dust clouds billowing up around us.
Easier said than done. My all-too-vivid imagination conjures up images I can’t get my mind to unsee. I clench my jaw against the resulting surge of nausea. I haven’t even known her two months, and already I can’t imagine her not in my life. I make a silent vow: if we find her I’ll never let her out of my sight again.
Shit, her brother.
Right when I pull out my phone to dig for his number, it rings. It’s Blackfoot.
“Yes?”
“I found a trail heading into the trees behind her house, but lost it in the underbrush. I’ve called in backup to set up an organized search. Got in touch with Ouray at Arrow’s Edge. If anyone can control her brother it’s him. He’s sending guys as well.”
“I’m on my way with Blue.”
“Good. Fuck—prepare, brother—I found a couple of shells.”
Time crawls as Blue races into town and up the mountain. When we finally reach Tahlula’s driveway, yellow caution tape is blocking our entrance partway up, with motorcycles and vehicles lining the shoulder.
I guess part of me had hoped I’d get here to find it was all a big misunderstanding, but there’s no deluding myself now; something is horribly wrong. I’m barely out of the ambulance when Penelope runs up to me.
“I need your house keys. Moose is getting Luke,” she says, out of breath.
It takes me a moment to clue in. My goddamn house keys are in my pants pocket back at the station. “Tell him to go, I’ll get Ma to open the door,” I suggest, already dialing my mother’s number. I start talking as soon as she answers the phone, not giving her a chance to ask questions. “Ma, I need you to head over to my house. A guy named Moose is coming over and needs to get in to grab Tahlula’s dog. It’s urgent.”
“Moose? Who names their child—”
“Ma, please, there’s no time. Tahlula is missing and may be hurt, we need to find her.”
I can hear her suck in a breath before she says firmly, “I’m on my way.” For the first time since I was nine and fell off my bike, I wish for my mother’s hug and gentle assurances everything will be all right. As if she can hear me, she quickly adds, “You’ll find her, sweetheart. It’s gonna be okay.”
Moments later, Moose is racing toward town as I approach the group outside the house, close to Tahlula’s Lexus. Blackfoot, Ramirez, Trunk, and Ouray, along with a handful of bikers and three uniformed officers, all turn their heads when I walk up. My eyes are on Trunk, though, his fear for his sister clear on his face. This is bad.
“Why the fuck is everyone just standing around?” I snap, turning my attention on Blackfoot. “You should be out there looking.”
“We will in a minute. Without a proper plan, we risk missing her,” he says calmly, which only angers me more. I only now notice the map he holds in his hand.
Biting down my temper, I listen as he divides the backcountry into three pie shaped sections, all starting from the point he lost her trail. My knees go weak when I realize the trail he’s talking about was left in blood. My eyes are drawn to the ground beside her Lexus and the dark spot soaked into the dirt, before they wander to the trees beyond. What if…?
“Don’t go there.” Trunk’s deep rumble sounds beside me. “My sister is smart and she’s tough. She’ll hold out until we find her.” A hard squeeze of his massive paw on my shoulder, and then he jogs off, following the group of men heading toward the woods behind the house. I’m about to follow when Blackfoot’s voice holds me back.
“Need you to hold on, Evan. You’re not armed and we’ve got someone with a rifle out there. Besides, Trunk says her dog will probably respond to you best, so we’ll need you to handle him when he gets here. She’s not a stupid woman; if she’s hurt she won’t try to run, she’ll be hiding. The dog is our best chance to find her fast, once these guys flush out the shooter.”
“How many shots?”
“We found two casings so far, but from what I can tell only one hit target.” A sharp stab hits my gut, but Blackfoot keeps talking as if he didn’t just land a blow. “I have a patrol car checking out the campground for a vehicle. I can’t imagine he walked up the mountain. He may have slipped onto the grounds just as people were leaving because of the evacuation order.”
I’m still reeling from the information when I feel a furry head nudging my clenched fist. I look down to find Pen’s small donkey beside me. I hadn’t even noticed him roaming around.
“He’s apologizing,” Pen says, walking up with Blue in her wake. They’d disappeared into the house for a few minutes, and I notice Blue’s face is wa
shed and she’s wearing a clean shirt. I look at Pen, a little confused.
“Autumn says she hightailed it out of the house shortly after I left to enforce the evacuation order,” Keith ends up clarifying. “She was worried about the animal up here alone.”
Lightly scratching Smokey’s head, I keep an eye on the tree line, until the crunch of tires announces Moose’s return. The man must’ve broken every speed limit. The donkey hustles to the truck and when Luke jumps down, the two circle and sniff to get reacquainted. Only for a few seconds, though, when Luke suddenly sticks his nose in the air. He trots over to the Lexus and starts sniffing the stain in the soil, softly whining in the back of his throat.
“Did you bring his leash?” I ask Moose when he joins us. He holds it out to me, and I quickly move to the dog and clip it on his collar. “Let’s go,” I tell Keith, as his radio crackles to life.
“…Eyes on a single suspect…” I recognize the soft voice as belonging to Tony Ramirez. “…He seems to be zigzagging back this way. Tall, six foot one or two, camo gear including cap, rifle braced in front of him…”
“He’s looking,” Moose observes, and Blackfoot nods his agreement before bringing the radio to his mouth.
“Make sure he’s flying solo before you approach, and be smart.”
“…Ten-four…”
“I’m going,” I announce.
“You’re gonna wait until they have him secured.”
“Tahlula’s out there bleeding,” I argue.
“And you possibly barging in on a hostage scene could get you killed. Or worse—her.”
The last word is barely out of his mouth when the quiet mountain air is punctured by the reverberating sound of gunshots.
Tahlula
I wake to the sound of gunfire.
Panic is immediate when I instinctively try to duck my head, only to find myself barely able to move. I’m wedged tightly in a hard, damp place. A chill runs through me, remembering where I am and how I got here.
More shots sound and my body jerks in response, sending hot pain searing through the right side of my body. My right hand carefully explores, encountering a warm, sticky puddle under me, and my head starts spinning. That’s not good. I’m losing too much blood.