“Then why are they bringing boxes up the mountain on ATVs at night? I saw it all. Two dudes in a truck were at the tourist spot waiting for the delivery. I saw one dude get shot.”
“Oh my God,” I said. “That’s the murder that happened last Friday. You saw it? Why didn’t you go to the police? They’ve been trying to solve that crime. They didn’t even find that guy’s body until somebody reported it.”
“That was me. I’ve been sleeping in a tree on the mountain. I hiked down in stealth mode, stole that bike, and reported the murder when I thought the coast was clear.”
“Dude, you’re like a total hero,” said Fred, giving him a fist bump.
I wasn’t sure if stealing a motorcycle and not reporting a crime properly qualified for hero status. “The police would have protected you. You should have driven that stolen motorcycle to the police department.”
“I had to get my brother out of the situation first. What if they went after him, knowing I narced to the police? Then I saw you at my apartment and my house. I thought you were with them. I couldn’t come out of hiding. Sorry about your bike, but I had to get away without you tailing me.”
“That’s epic,” said Laci.
“Why would you throw rocks at us?” I said. “You could have hurt them. And you almost knocked me out, slamming me into the tree with that stick.”
“Dude, I threw rocks to scare you away. I didn’t want my team on the mountain with all this going on. But I didn’t assault you with a stick. I’m not into violence. Especially against women. Get real.” He shook his head, stroking his beard.
Mara clasped her hands together. “Of course, you wouldn’t.”
“You threw rocks then took off?” I could have used a rescue from getting clubbed, but whatever. “Did you see who hit me and stole my backpack?”
He shook his head. “It’s not safe for me to be out of my tree for long. There’s been a lot of activity since the shooting.”
“Denver Crosby and Everett Lawson are the main culprits. Or at least I think it was Everett…” I paused. “I found his body in the woods. They sound like the men who abducted you and attacked me. Possibly Dr. Trident’s connected. It’s just unfortunate for Wellspring that they’re using it for whatever they’re doing.”
“That place is evil, man. I don’t care what you say. I don’t like what’s going on with my brother.”
He had a point. And running to Mexico made Crispin look guilty of something. Roger’s mother had thought he’d been involved in drugs, too.
“The mountaintop murder is drug-related. But these guys are also involved in the bank bombing. Maybe they planned two armed robberies?”
“I’ve watched Breaking Bad,” said Chandler. “It wasn’t a robbery. There was an exchange. Then a fight and that’s when the dude was shot.”
“Listen,” I said. “Your brother fled to Mexico. It’s time for you to come out of hiding. We’re going to visit Detective Ian Mowry. I need to report Everett Lawson’s body. Chandler, you’re going to explain why you’ve been living in a tree.”
“Dude,” said Chandler. “The cops?”
The three glowered at me.
“I’m pulling my adult card,” I said. “Denver Crosby may still be out on the mountain. We’ve got a man recently buried and a garbage bag full of who knows what. If the supplements aren’t illegal, there must be something else buried under the beans.”
“I don’t understand what you’re saying,” said Fred.
“Doesn’t matter.” I set my hands on my hips. “We’re going before it’s too la—”
The growing drone of an ATV engine stopped my words.
“Run,” I screamed.
Fifty
#TreedAndCarated #AGirlsBestFriend
“We can’t outrun an ATV,” said Chandler. “Quick, the tree.”
We darted toward the big oak. Chandler leaned over. Mara helped Laci climb on his back. While he boosted her, Laci grabbed the lowest branch, swinging her legs and pulling her chest onto the branch. Mara grabbed her calves and pushed.
The roar of the ATV grew.
“There’s not enough time to get everyone up the tree.” I feared the tree wouldn’t hide everyone. Maybe two, three if you didn’t look too carefully.
Mara climbed on Chandler’s back and scrambled for the branch.
“Fred, run,” I said. “Hide. Get down low. They might not see you.”
“What are you going to do?” said Fred. “I’ll protect you.”
“They know I’m out here, but they don’t know you are.” I grabbed Fred by the shoulders. “Whatever you do, don’t come out. Promise me. Do not try to be heroic. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
He nodded, blinking back tears.
“You have to stay hidden for the sake of the girls. And when they’re totally gone, I want the four of you to get back to Black Pine and tell the police everything.” I pulled him into a quick hug.
I ran uphill, toward the sound of the ATV. I hoped I could draw Denver away. Spotting the vehicle in the distance, I adjusted the angle of my dash. My arms churned. My lungs burned. Tree roots and hidden rocks threatened to send me sprawling. I zig-zagged, ducking around trees and bushes blocking my path.
Behind me, the ATV growled. Denver shouted.
He’d seen me.
I pelted toward a thicker grouping of trees. Pushing aside a vine, I climbed around a leggy rhododendron. And prayed for a lack of spiders and snakes.
The ATV engine roared. Inside, the thicket forced me to slow. I picked my way through the denser vegetation. Wondering if Denver would follow me inside or ambush me on the other side. Feeling a bit The Princess Bride in the Fire Swamp.
Minus Dread Pirate Roberts’ help.
My breath wheezed, keeping time with my racing pulse. I moved between the trees, glancing over my shoulder. I couldn’t hear the ATV. I bit my lip, praying he didn’t find the Bigfoot Tracker team.
The dense wood broke into a small glen protected by a rock outcropping. I hesitated before stepping into the enclosed space. My heart walloped against my ribs. My lungs constricted. The granite wall had trapped me. I couldn’t climb it. I’d have to find another way out. I backed into the tree line.
And felt the muzzle of a gun.
“Put your hands where I can see them,” said Denver.
I held out my hands. His slid around my back and jeans. Finding Oliver’s phone, he pulled it from my back pocket, then gripped my shoulder.
“Move slowly. To the left.”
“Denver?” I babbled between gasps. “I don’t know why you’re doing this. Not exactly. I can’t testify about the robbery. I didn’t see you at the bank. I don’t know what you’re doing at Wellspring. You don’t have to do this.”
“Shut up.” The gun jammed into my back.
I shut up.
We wound through the thicket to where the forest thinned. I squinted into the distance but saw no movement among the trees. We continued forward. Denver’s breath warmed the back of my neck. The ATV emerged behind a large ash. Gripping my shoulder, he halted our movement. The gun eased from my back.
“Seriously, Denver. If you and Everett are into shady business, whatever,” I craned my neck to see him. “I truly haven’t figured it out. Just let me go. I promise I won’t say anything.”
“I know you’re not going to say anything.” His grip tightened.
In my peripheral vision, I saw the gun swing overhead.
“No,” I cried, raising my arms.
The grip caught me behind my ear. The bone-jarring crack loosened my knees. Spots danced in my eyes. Pain shot down my neck to my fingers. I gulped. And blacked out.
* * *
I woke with an aching head and a sore jaw. With my eyes still closed, I evaluated my surroundings. A firm, yet soft cushion beneath me. My body felt intact. Except for my head. No bird calls or squirrel rustlings. No longer in the woods. The hint of tea and something herbal scented the air. The soft patchouli, lavender,
and vanilla blend of Gentlemen Givenchy by Givenchy. I sniffed to double-check and slowly opened my eyes.
“Thank God,” said Oliver, leaning over me. “How are you feeling?”
“Not so good,” I said. “My head feels like I got pistol-whipped. Which I did. By Denver Crosby. Call the police.”
Oliver stroked my cheek. He gently lifted me into a hug. I rested there a beat, mainly because I didn’t have the strength to do otherwise. My head was on fire.
“Here.” A brown capsule rested in the palm of his hand.
I eyeballed the capsule. “No thanks.”
“It’s great for pain.”
“I’d rather have a couple ibuprofen all the same. And a phone to call the police.” I took in the couch and the room. “Why am I in Dr. Trident’s office?”
He shook his head. “I’m so sorry this happened to you. I’m taking care of everything. Look.”
A small green box lay on the coffee table. Taking it, Oliver pulled back the lid and showed me the ring inside. Platinum. Or white gold. An emerald-cut trio on a band of tiny diamonds. The center diamond was at least three carats. I squinted, then realized what I was doing.
I snatched my hand back.
“We need to get you to the hospital to check your injury. Rest, sweetheart.” He picked up my hand, slipped the ring on, and kissed my finger. “Everything is going to be okay.”
“Um, Oliver?” I focused on not lifting my hand to examine the ring. I was going to give it back. In a minute. When I had a better idea of what was going on. Or something like that. “Where is Denver and Dr. Trident?”
Oliver kissed my hand again. “You really should take something for the pain.”
“I’m confused as to what’s going on. Why won’t you tell me?”
“You probably have a concussion.”
The door creaked. I tried to sit up, but Oliver patted my shoulder and gently pushed me down. He stood, blocking my view of the door.
“You’re in here?” The voice sounded like Sam Martin.
I rolled over and pushed up, sending off an agonizing starburst inside my head. Oliver acted strangely. Although that may be due to me taking off with his phone to nearly get myself killed while he purchased this gorgeous engagement ring.
A ring I was totally giving back. In a minute.
I tried to see around Oliver’s big body and could make out a sliver of Sam Martin near the door. Probably wondering what we were doing on Trident’s couch. As Oliver’s boss, I’d wonder why Oliver spent more time dealing with me than managing his wellness center.
But as a terrible employee myself, I couldn’t cast stones.
“Did you take care of everything?” said Sam.
Oliver shoved his hand in his pocket and adjusted his stance. Creating a better view of Sam Martin. Sam was scrolling on his phone, not looking at us. Someone else stood behind him in the hall. Maybe they were about to have a staff meeting.
Sam Martin looked up and caught my eye. His eyes widened, then darted to Oliver. “What’s she doing in here?”
I breathed out a sigh. Finally, we’d get some answers.
“I thought she was taken care of,” said Sam.
Okay, that didn’t sound good.
Fifty-One
#Backsliding #TheProposal
Hoping he meant “taken care of” as in “take care of her aches and pains in the spa,” I waited for Sam to explain. Instead, he moved aside. Denver Crosby entered the room.
Chandler Jonson was right about Wellspring. Shizzilation.
“Oliver,” I murmured. “That’s Denver, the guy who attacked me. He has a gun.”
I slowly rose, ignoring the pain and dizziness. My knees shook. I leaned against Oliver to gain purchase and focused on not falling over.
“That man ran me down on the mountain.” I pointed at Denver with a trembling finger. “He knocked me out with his gun.”
Denver folded his arms and rocked back on his heels. Sam glanced at him and shoved his phone in his pocket.
“We’re engaged,” said Oliver. He rested his hand against my back and lifted my hand with the ring. “By tomorrow, we’ll be married.”
We looked at Oliver, wondering if he knew how Cocoa Puffs he sounded.
I lowered my voice. “I don’t think they care about that, Oliver. Who are they really? Everett, Denver, and Sam?”
Oliver shifted to face me. “Sam’s the founder of Wellspring. Everett and Denver don’t work here.”
“The investor is asking why I’m still alive. The gunman is in Dr. Trident’s office. And Everett Lawson is dead and half-buried in the woods.”
Oliver paled. “What?”
“You’ve been duped. Big time. I didn’t want to believe it either, but it’s all related to Wellspring. This isn’t about herbal supplements.”
“Oliver,” barked Sam.
“Just a minute.” Oliver kept his eyes on me. “I’m not doing anything illegal, sweetheart. I learned my lesson. After we get married, it’ll all be okay. I can protect you this way.”
I closed my eyes, sighed, looked up at him. “So I can’t testify against you? If everything is hunky-dory, why would I need protecting?”
“You have to trust me.”
Says the man who got me arrested.
“It’s too late, Oliver,” said Sam. “She knows too much.”
“The police know I’m here,” I said. “I gave them Denver’s name. They know about Everett and Dr. Trident, too.”
Denver glared at me. Leaning back, he closed the door and pulled the handgun from beneath his shirt.
“Craptastic.” Oliver’s brow tightened. “Don’t do this.”
That was my line. But I had no time to be ticked off about stolen lines. I also had no time for a concussion. A mighty dose of adrenaline had replaced my pain.
We were in a room with one exit. A killer with a gun stood between us and the door. And there was nothing in Dr. Trident’s room that could save us, unless I could MacGyver his herbal tea into something useful.
If only. But I did have something — calling it useful was a stretch — but I’d played someone who was often trapped in desperate situations. Although Julia Pinkerton could make a weapon from herbal tea (if the writers were especially creative), I’d focus on her cunning and wit instead of weapons.
And because Oliver had not thought to get my revolver from his stupid safe.
I eased from Oliver, ignored Denver and his Glock, and focused on Sam. My voice dropped into a lower register. “Did it occur to you I might want a cut? I mean, if I’m willing to marry Oliver…” I left my reasoning femme fatale vague.
“That’s easy for you to say now,” said Sam.
“Of course, I don’t want to get shot.” I cocked a hip and folded my arms. “But how long do you think this operation can last? Everett was a local connection and he’s dead. You’ve only got Denver and his buddies, like Crispin. Crispin involved Roger Price. But the police will be watching all the Black Pine losers, right? I’m guessing you still have product to move. And at a celebrity retreat, who better to distract the public and the police than a real celebrity?”
Thankfully, I’d also seen Breaking Bad and knew drug cartel vocabulary.
This time Sam snorted.
I sashayed to stand between Sam and Denver. Deliberately putting my back to Oliver. “Look, Sam. I get it. When your delivery guy arrives at the peak for a pickup, you need a distraction for the cops. That’s where Roger came in. Except that doofus built a real bomb instead of a fake one. While the cops were supposed to swarm First National, defusing a fake bomb, Everett and Denver would hand over your real product to your distributor.”
Sam smirked. “Clever.”
I gave a half-shoulder shrug. “This week must have been hell. First, Roger blows up the bank which did distract the police, but also brought the ATF up in your grill. Then your loose cannon, Denver, shot one of the delivery drivers. Which sent the police running to Wellspring again. And you had me at Wells
pring, hunting for a missing person. Who happens to be the brother of one of your crew.”
He nodded.
“So, how about a little win-win? Oliver offered me a job in security. I’ve got a criminal justice degree and have been mentoring as a PI. I also know the local police really well. As a household name, I can help you pull in celebs and finally fill this place. The job will ensure I can’t give you up because I’d go down with you.”
“I appreciate the offer,” said Sam. “And you’re almost right. The doofus was supposed to cause a distraction. Leave a fake bomb and get out. But we didn’t have ‘product to move.’ Just a private meeting between my loose cannon and a criminal who asked for some subterfuge.”
“But Crispin was dealing…” Wait. Chandler was wrong? “No, the gunshot victim was from a drug cartel.”
“Crispin? I don’t know him.” Sam shrugged. “Kratom helps with withdrawals. Even though it can be addictive. I could see where an ambitious kid would want to make some cash selling our supplements. But it’s not like Wellspring gave any to him.”
“But—”
“Here’s the thing, Maizie. I don’t really care about filling Wellspring. It’s better if we don’t have a lot of guests.” Sam smiled. “What we have in place works great. Oliver’s a little overzealous. He spoke out of turn.”
“What?” I glanced back at Oliver. “There wasn’t a real job?”
Oliver’s eyebrows pulled together, but he had his eyes on Denver.
“Why wouldn’t you want more guests? There’s hardly anybody here besides Vicki—” I bit my lip. I’d forgotten about Vicki and Giulio.
How could I forget my mother and my ex-fiancé-stepfather?
Fifty-Two
#DéjàDump #NotHubbyMaterial
I had to get us out of this room. And I had to make sure Vicki and Giulio were safe. The only thing keeping a panic attack at bay was the adrenaline. And the massive headache.
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