And now the lights were right on her bumper. Closing in fast.
Certainty centered itself in her gut. If she was being paranoid due to a set of headlights, so be it, but she felt quite sure he’d found her.
Heather glanced at the phone clipped in its holder. Using voice commands, she said, “Call 911.”
She breathed a relieved sigh when the call connected, despite the area’s spotty reception.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
“I’m on Tipton Road,” she said, leaning over to open the glove box and slip the Glock from its foam-covered resting place. “There’s someone riding my tail and driving recklessly. Could you send help?”
The keyboard clicked in the background.
Heather turned into the curve, tapping the brakes. The car behind her surged forward and rammed into her.
A scream escaped her as she spun the wheel to avoid shooting off the side of the road. Her tires churned on the shoulder, spinning gravel and slinging mud, but she made it back onto the road and gunned the engine. Then slammed on the brakes when she turned too fast into the next sharp curve.
The vehicle on her tail battered her bumper, sending her careening around the bend. The steering wheel spun beneath her palms, and she slid along the guardrail, firecracker sparks bursting at the metal-on-metal contact. Another hit from behind. The force of the motion hurled her against the seatbelt.
Her little rental car hit a post and spun, doing a one eighty, the back end smashing through a break in the guardrails and skidding over the edge of the mountain. Heather released another scream as she continued down, rolling and bouncing violently. No amount of brake stomping slowed her descent.
Another desperate cry strangled her and she held on, waiting for the impact that was going to hurt.
Jesus, help me . . .
Travis pressed the gas pedal, trying desperately to get to the scene in front of him. He’d followed Heather to the farmhouse, then stayed a good distance behind her when she left.
He’d rounded the curve just in time to see a dark SUV shoot out of a side street and into the single lane, causing him to slam on the brakes to keep from plowing into it. His nerves had tightened, his attention on the reckless driver, wishing he had blue lights to flip on.
Then the driver rushed ahead, crowding Heather’s car in front of him, and finally, with one more burst of speed, sent it into a spin on the narrow mountain road.
Travis laid on his horn, blaring it long and loud. The driver who’d rammed the Mustang had surged past the drop-off and taken the next curve almost on two wheels, taillights disappearing.
Travis pulled to a fast stop on the shoulder and threw the truck in park. He opened the driver’s door with his left hand and snagged his phone with his right, then bolted toward where he’d seen Heather’s car drop out of sight, his stomach twisting as he looked down.
“Heather,” he whispered.
The little white Mustang was wedged tail first against a large tree. The headlights pointed upward. However, the landscape leveled out near the tree that cradled the Mustang. If he could get her out, he would find a way to get her back up to the truck. Travis dialed 911 as he ran back to his vehicle. The call dropped. “No, no. Don’t do this.” He tried different locations until he finally got two bars and dialed again.
“MVA on Tipton Road,” he said when the woman picked up. “Someone ran her off and she spun out over the side and down the embankment.”
“What part?”
Not familiar with the road, Travis described it as best he could while grabbing his go bag and a long coil of rope. “There’s no time to wait. I’m going down to get her.”
Silence greeted him. A quick glance at the screen showed no bars once more. Praying she’d heard his scattered directions before he’d been cut off, Travis tucked the phone in his pocket, tossed the go bag over his shoulder, and hurried back to the scene. His former EMT days would allow him to give first aid until the paramedics arrived.
After tying one end of the rope to a thick tree trunk at the edge of the road, he tugged a length of it under his rear and started rappelling down the side, staying in the path the car had cut on its way down.
When he reached the vehicle, he assessed the scene and his stomach dropped. The area in front of the vehicle and on either side was level. The area behind the tree that had stopped the car was not. In fact, there was no area behind the tree except a sheer drop. His pulse pounded a fraction harder.
He gripped the driver’s door and tugged. “Heather, can you hear me? Heather!”
The tree creaked and Travis froze, his adrenaline ramping up another notch. He gave the door another tug. When it screeched open, he froze, staring at the business end of a black pistol. “Heather. Whoa.” He held up a hand. “It’s me. Travis. Don’t shoot.”
Heather blinked up at him. A gasp escaped her parted lips, and she lowered the weapon, placing it on the passenger seat. “Travis? How . . . what . . . Travis?”
“I’ll explain in a minute. We need to get you out of here. Are you hurt?”
“Um . . . no. I don’t think so.” She rubbed her chest and winced. “Stunned and with a heck of a seat belt bruise. A little whiplash, maybe, but surprisingly intact.”
“Well, if you want to stay that way, ease yourself out of the driver’s seat.”
She paused. “What’s behind me? Because the rearview mirror isn’t telling me much.”
“A tree.”
“And?”
“Let’s just get you out of here, okay?”
“Yeah. Okay, let’s do that.”
Heather had already released her seatbelt and grasped his outstretched hand.
A sharp crack sounded from the top of the hill. Something whizzed past his ear, sending him ducking for cover in the narrow strip of ground between the open car door and the sheer drop-off. Heather, still in the car but with her legs out the door, locked her eyes on his, her fingers squeezing tight enough to cut off blood flow. “Was that . . . ?”
“It was. Come on.”
The tree gave another groan and the car shifted. Her grip tightened and he pulled. The trunk gave one more massive crack just as Heather slid into his arms. He rolled, shoving her next to him and covering her head with his gloved hand. “Lie flat!” He pressed her cheek into the dirt as the car door passed over them with not a millimeter to spare. Travis froze, his heart thundering in his chest, while the vehicle bounced down the cliff. As it crashed its way downward, Travis scrambled to his knees, his hand still clasping hers. He placed his lips next to her ear. “Are you okay to run?”
Another crack of a rifle. Another bullet passing too close for comfort.
“I guess I’m going to have to be,” she said, her breath wispy and faint, tinged with fear.
Travis bolted to his feet, pulling her with him. “Go.”
CHAPTER
FIVE
Pain lanced through her ribs, but Heather pressed on, praying she didn’t have more serious injuries than bruises. Right now, adrenaline fueled her flight across the open ground, but she’d feel more aches and pains later. Travis’s hand gripped hers, his fingers clamped tight. “Where are the cops?” she gasped.
“I don’t know. It’s a hard area to find. Keep going.”
He didn’t sound winded, and she thought she might keel over. “I hate running.”
“Just go.”
She held on and let him guide her to the tree line, expecting any second now to feel a bullet plow into her body.
But they made it into the protection of the trees with no more shots fired. Travis pulled up, and Heather bent double, holding her aching side.
“I lost my phone,” he said, patting his pocket. “Great.”
“And mine”—she panted—“went down with the car. So did my gun.” More panting. She sounded bad and vowed to hit the gym more when her life returned to normal. Please let it return to normal.
“We’ll find a phone somewhere. They’ll have to get the gun
when they pull up the car.”
“Where do you think we’re going to find a phone around here?” She caught her breath, then straightened, wincing as the action pulled her abused muscles.
“We’ll head back to my truck and go straight to the sheriff’s office in town.”
She nodded. “Which way’s your truck?”
“Up. But we’ve got to find a way to get up there without getting shot.”
“Then that’s not going to work. I don’t think I could climb anyway.”
“If I remember correctly from studying the map of this area, there’s a road that leads down from Tipton Road. We just have to find it.”
“In the dark?”
“Unfortunately.”
The first raindrop splashed on her cheek and ran down to drip off her chin. “Travis?”
“Yeah?”
“It’s cold. Like almost freezing.”
“I’m aware, thanks.”
“My point is, it’s starting to rain. We need to find some shelter and wait it out, because if we get soaked, it’s going to be extremely uncomfortable.” Not to mention the possibility of hypothermia.
“Okay. Let’s keep going. As long as we’re moving, we’re not freezing, right?”
She groaned. “Yes, we need to keep moving.”
“Maybe we can find a convenience store or something.”
She tromped after him, glad the rain was only a slight drizzle for the moment. “Convenience stores are usually on the main roads. You know . . . for convenience sake.”
“You’re awfully witty right now.”
“It’s a defense mechanism.” What she’d really like to do was puddle onto the ground and have a good cry. But she wouldn’t. She placed one foot after the other. “So, help me keep my mind off of all of this.” Like that was going to happen, but it was worth the try. “How did you find me?”
“Caden did.”
“How?”
“It took a few days, but he finally located your car in the hospital parking lot. Security footage helped get the plate off the Uber, and the car rental place has GPS trackers on their vehicles. Once he knew you had a rental, the rest was easy.”
“Oh.” She rubbed an aching temple. “I didn’t think about a GPS tracker on the rental. Of course, it makes sense, but—” She stepped over a rotted log and stumbled.
He reached back and snagged her arm, pulling her against him. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” The automatic response slipped from her lips without thought.
“Sure you are.” His lips quirked into a small smile, and she was tempted to lean her aching head against his chest and stay there forever. Safe. Warm. Wrapped in his strong arms. Yeah, she could be all right with that. Instead, she pulled back and let him take the lead once more.
“I still can’t believe I didn’t notice you weren’t at your house that night after the party,” Travis said. “The light was on in your kitchen and I thought you were there.” He rubbed his eyes. “I never saw evidence of anyone else, though . . .”
“You were watching?” She was down to short statements at this point. It was all she could do to drag in the next breath.
He nodded, lips pressed together. “For all the good it did. Here we are. On the run. What were you doing at the farm for six hours anyway?” he asked.
“You were . . there . . the whole time?”
“Of course.”
Another deep breath. “I made friends with the pharmacist.” She stopped and lowered herself to the nearest old log on the ground. “Hold on a second.”
“What is it?”
“I need to stop. Just for a minute.” The pain in her ribs and across her shoulder was stealing what little breath she could find.
“All right.” He paused and took the time to look back the way they’d come. “I don’t think anyone was able to follow us. They’d have had to rappel down the side of the mountain like I did.” He took off his beanie and settled it on her head, pulling it down over her ears. “Keep talking.”
Keep talking? Really? “You don’t have to give me your hat.”
He took off his coat and wrapped it around her. “Push your arms in the sleeves.”
“Travis, no, I can’t—” But it was blissfully warm from his body heat. “You’ll freeze.”
“I have on a thermal shirt, a sweatshirt, and a hoodie. I’ll be fine. And besides, I wasn’t just in an accident. You need to stay warm. Now, be still so I can zip it.”
Heather gave in. When she was adequately encased in the much-too-large warm Sherpa coat, he patted her on the head. “That’s better.”
It really was, but if he patted her on the head again, she might have to hurt him.
“You’re good? Can we keep going?” he asked. “I don’t like being out in the open like this.”
“Sure.” She could use a few more minutes but figured the light rain might be getting ready to morph into something heavier, and she’d really like to find a dry place to hole up.
“You can finish your story now that you can breathe.” He held out a hand and she grasped it. “And explain how the pharmacist is involved in you being at the house on the top of the mountain.”
He started off, and she once again found herself pushing through the wooded undergrowth, wishing she were back in her little hotel room, tucked safely in her bed. “So, a couple of days after I arrived in town, I was shopping and he—the pharmacist—had a sign in the window advertising for a delivery person. I asked him about it and said I’d volunteer.”
“Let me guess. You didn’t want to give him the information required for an actual paying job.”
“Bingo. Anyway, he sent me out to the Gunderson farm to deliver some prenatal vitamins. When I got there, she was in labor, so I wound up delivering her daughter. Her sister got there about thirty minutes before I left.”
“I saw her drive up.” He looked back at her. “But I never saw an ambulance or anything.”
“They wanted to stay at home.” She was already tired again and feeling out of breath while her legs ached with the effort to keep up. The pain pulsing from her bruised body didn’t help. She hadn’t realized how out of shape she’d let herself get. There was going to be a lot of cardio in her future—assuming she lived through this.
“I guess the baby was okay?” he asked.
“She was slightly early, but healthy. And the mom was fine. There wasn’t any reason either of them needed to go to the hospital. It was her third child, so she . . . knew what she was doing . . . And I’m going to have to”—she pulled in a gasp of a breath—“quit talking . . . if I’m going to keep walking.”
After what seemed like an eternity, Travis stopped. “There’s a cabin,” he said, his voice soft in the night.
A shudder ran through her. The longer she was still, the more she felt the cold. The rain had started to fall harder, the wind picking up, whipping past her exposed cheeks. If she was cold, Travis had to be freezing.
“It’s dark,” she said. “You think anyone’s in there?”
“Only one way to find out.”
The rain fell harder as Travis tromped through the leaves to the gravel path that led to the front porch. He knocked, and within seconds the bottom dropped out of the sky. Heather gulped lungfuls of air while she huddled next to him on the small porch. It didn’t offer a lot of protection from the rain that was now pounding the earth in a deafening roar, but it was better than nothing.
He knocked again. “Anyone home?” He turned the knob. “It’s open.”
“Then I’m going in.” She slipped past him, stepped inside, and shivered harder. “It’s as cold in here as it was in my house the night I left. There’s wood on the fireplace. You think the chimney’s open?”
He checked. “It’s open.”
Heather explored the small space while Travis worked with the fireplace. In the kitchen, she found peanut butter and jelly, a loaf of fresh bread, eggs, milk, and fruit that were still good. “Someone’s living here, Tr
avis.”
“I gathered that from the stack of fresh wood. Hopefully, whoever it is won’t mind us crashing until the rain stops.”
She rubbed her hands together and returned to stand in front of the flickering flames.
He added another log and looked up. “Why don’t you have a seat?” He gestured to the couch. “You probably need to take inventory and make sure you’re not really hurt.”
“I’m not. Bruised, jarred, angry, but relatively unscathed. I think. I’ll be fine now that I can breathe.” She sank onto the couch. “If you hadn’t come along when you did, I wouldn’t have made it out of there in time.”
“You would have.”
“No. I really wouldn’t have. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
She crossed her arms over her stomach. “But I think you brought my stalker with you.”
He frowned. “I don’t know. He couldn’t have known I’d be the one to come after you. He’s never done anything violent before, has he?”
“No. In fact, I thought he might have disappeared. The last three weeks have been blessedly quiet and peaceful.”
“Until today.”
“Until today. Which is why I think you must have led him to me.”
“I don’t think so.”
She raised a brow. “Why not?”
“Because, first, I’ve been watching you for the past two weeks and I’ve seen no sign of anyone else following you. Second, if someone did follow me, why wait this long to come after you?”
She didn’t have an answer for that one. Wait a minute. “Two weeks?” She forgot about being chilled and stared at him. “You’ve been following me around for two weeks?”
“Yeah. Sorry.”
He didn’t sound very sorry. “But . . . why?”
He at least had the decency to look slightly embarrassed. “Once Caden found you and reported that you were fine, the group decided you’d disappeared for a reason. After all your talk about a stalker and your cryptic text, we deduced that you were probably hiding from him. I decided once we found you, I’d simply watch to see who was watching you—which is why I was at the scene where the person ran you off the road. I just wasn’t quick enough to get to him before—” A muscle jumped in his jaw. “Well, before.”
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