“You’ll never get away with this!” I called. Yes, it was a cliché, but it seemed so fitting right now.
“Watch me.” Currie flicked his cigarette back at me. Then he disappeared from sight. No doubt, he had a vehicle hiding somewhere close by.
My heart pounded rapidly in my ears when I realized they were gone. And Zane and I were not.
We were stuck here. Tied to a tree. A feast for flies. Maybe an alligator or two. Probably a bear.
“Joey,” Zane said.
“Yes?”
“Look up.”
I did. I saw that the bark from the tree was missing in spots. “What? Is the tree diseased or something?”
“No, this a scratching post. For a bear.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered. “You are kidding me, right?”
“No, I saw a picture of a bear’s scratching post just thirty minutes ago when I was scrolling through information about the refuge.”
What now, Little Raven? The voice of my older and wiser mentor from Relentless played in my head. It was like a Jedi mind trick the way I heard that fictionalized voice sometimes.
“Well, things just keep getting better and better.”
“Don’t you have some kind of Raven trick you can pull out of your sleeve?” Zane asked.
“She was never really in a situation like this,” I said, struggling against the ropes around me.
It was no use. They were too tight.
“Certainly she was tied up before.”
I narrowed my eyes, wondering why I had to spell this out. “I hate to break it to you, but everything that happens on TV isn’t real.”
“I know that, but I’m desperate.” He lowered his voice, and I could tell he was talking through gritted teeth. “And another fly just bit me! These suckers hurt.”
Okay, we’d both had our moment of complaining. Now we needed to think of a solution. I’d give it the old college try.
“First we need to think of a way to get these ropes untied,” I started. “Unfortunately, this tree is out of sight from any cars passing by.”
“Maybe a ranger will come by and see your car,” Zane said.
I could see my car from my position here, and that wasn’t necessarily a good thing. “It’s partially out of sight, thanks to the grass around it.”
What else? I needed another idea.
“Okay, okay. You’re right. Maybe if we rub the rope on whatever bark is still here, it will thin the rope out. I know it won’t cut it, but . . .”
“It’s worth a try,” Zane said. “I guess we don’t have many options.”
“Okay, we should move up and down, like this is a scratching post for us.”
I pictured how this was going to look. Thank goodness no one from the National Instigator was here to capture this humiliating moment on camera.
Then I started moving. It was uncomfortable. It hurt. I was losing feeling in my fingers and arms.
The remaining bark irritated my skin. My legs itched from the biting flies. Sweat poured down my forehead and back.
Could this get any worse?
“What do you think?” Zane asked. “Is it working?”
I tried to crane my neck so I could see the rope. “It’s hard to tell. I’m not really sure. But the rope sure doesn’t feel any looser. How about you?”
“Not really,” he said. “Do you have any hidden razor blades beneath your watchband like you did that other time?”
“No, I didn’t exactly plan ahead.”
“How about the knot in the rope? Can you reach it?” Zane asked.
I tried to maneuver my hands around to the area where the rope was tied, but it was useless. I just didn’t have any leeway. “No, I can’t. I’m sorry.”
“Well, we need to think of something. And soon. Very soon.”
I could hear the urgency in Zane’s voice. It had gone up a level.
“Why’s that?” I didn’t really want to ask, but I did anyway.
“Because there’s a bear right in front of me, and he’s coming this way.”
Death by bear mauling hadn’t really been one of my biggest fears.
Until now.
“We should be still,” Zane said.
“I thought we were supposed to make ourselves bigger.” Wasn’t that what people said? I’d never really paid attention. Because I’d never really expected this to happen.
“Even if that’s true, it’s going to be a little hard to do since we can’t move our arms.”
“True.” I craned my neck again, desperate to see what Zane was seeing. But maybe I shouldn’t see it. I might wet my pants if I did. “Black bears are friendly, right? It’s the brown bears you should worry about. Or is it grizzlies?”
“It’s doesn’t matter,” Zane said. “They all worry me.”
“They make bears seem so friendly when you’re a kid. I mean, there’s Yogi. Smokey. The Berenstain family.”
“They lied to us.”
I swallowed hard, even more sweat pouring down me. Did sweat attract bears? Or was I emitting fear pheromones that would draw the creature like a magnet toward me? I wasn’t sure. “What’s the bear doing?” I finally asked.
“Coming toward us. Taking his or her time.”
Quiet fell, and in the quiet I heard the movement of the bear as it moseyed through the trees, breaking branches and trampling anything in its path as it searched for Goldilocks and her half-eaten hamburger of doom.
And then it grunted. Moaned. Screamed.
What was going on?
“He just saw us,” Zane said. “On his scratching post.”
I closed my eyes. Not good. And I had no earthly clue what to do about it. Seriously. Not even one good idea. Not even one bad idea.
All I could do was stand here against the tree, unable to get away.
Except . . . I did have one very terrible idea.
“I put a CD-ROM in my back pocket, Zane.”
“A CD-ROM?”
“I sneaked it out of the box.”
“Okay . . .”
I closed my eyes, not wanting to say the words. But . . . I had to. “If I broke it, maybe the sharp end would help us cut through the rope.”
“Do it.”
“But it has information my dad wants us to see.” My gut twisted.
“If we’re dead, that information will do us no good. Break it. Now. Because after that bear finishes with me, he’s going for you.”
As he finished his sentence, I heard more underbrush being crushed as the bear came our way.
I swallowed hard, fighting frustration and tears. But I managed to reach the CD-ROM. Using my quickly numbing hands, I broke it in two. Blood trickled near my wrists. I’d cut myself in the process.
I’d worry about that later.
I took the edge of the CD-ROM and rubbed it against the rope. And rubbed. And rubbed. I could hear the material being pricked, being slowly snapped apart. But this was going to take a long time.
“How’s it going?” Zane asked, his voice even tenser than before.
“Slow, but I do think the rope is beginning to fray some.”
“Saw harder. Yogi is only about fifteen feet away now.”
“I’m doing my best.” I felt another prick. I’d cut myself again. That one was deeper too. Something wet—that would be blood—washed over my fingers.
Hopefully that wasn’t a vein.
I pressed on ahead. I could do this. I would do this.
Joey Darling dies after being offered as a sacrifice to bear in wildlife refuge. Wouldn’t that make a great headline?
Just then, I heard a branch break.
Only it wasn’t in the direction of the bear.
It was coming from the area where my car was.
I continued trying to cut the rope as my gaze searched for the source. Had Currie returned?
A face emerged from behind a tree.
I squinted. Who was that?
And was that . . . a camera in his hands?
I sucked in a breath as the truth settled on me.
“Joey?” Zane asked. “What’s going on?”
“We’ve got more trouble.”
“What’s that mean? An alligator?”
My stomach tightened as I realized exactly who’d shown up. “No, it’s a shark.”
“A shark? Are you losing it?” Zane’s voice lilted with tension.
“No, it’s . . .” The man appeared from the thick underbrush with a camera and a smile. “It’s that reporter from the National Instigator.”
“You really don’t know my name yet?” The reporter stopped in front of me and pushed his glasses higher. Leaves were stuck in his thick dark hair, and welts had already formed on his face from fly bites.
“Kent Wilson,” I said, unable to stop my nostrils from flaring in disgust.
I wished I didn’t know the man’s name.
“Fancy seeing you here,” he said.
“How’d you find me?” I asked.
“I get paid to find you.” He raised his camera. “And take pictures. You’re going for top dollar right now.”
I scowled. “You’re really taking pictures at a time like this? Do you not see what’s happening here?”
“The public is going to love this.”
“So help me . . .” I growled, pulling against my binds. “You’re lucky I’m tied up right now.”
“Yes, I’d say I am the lucky one right now.”
“Can you two stop gabbing, and can you get us untied, Kent?” Zane asked.
Kent’s eyes flickered as if he was calculating his next move. “What’s in it for me?”
Did the man not the see the bear headed our way? This was not the time to have this conversation.
My bottom lip dropped, and I seriously wanted to throttle the man. But my hands were tied. Literally.
“Really? I’m about to die, and you want to use this situation to further your career?” My voice rose in anger.
He shrugged nonchalantly. “Pretty much.”
“Nothing,” I growled. “You get nothing except for an award for Most Lousy Louse Reporter.”
Lousy louse?
“Joey, you need to reconsider,” Zane’s voice held an unusual amount of anxiety.
“I agree,” Kent said, satisfaction in his gaze.
I sighed. I supposed this wasn’t the time to fight every battle. I needed to choose wisely. To spur on my thoughts, the bear in the distance let out a grunt.
“You get first dibs on this story, okay?” I rushed. “How’s that?”
He loosened up a bit. “All of the story? Not just this one section?”
My eyes narrowed. He was seriously irritating me. “Fine.”
Kent grinned, took a couple of pictures, and finally put the camera away. “I just happen to have a knife with me.”
I held my breath, waiting to see if he really would release us or if he was somehow a part of a sick and twisted plot to ruin me.
He stepped closer, his pocketknife in hand. He still looked at me, a strange gleam in his eyes.
“You’re really beautiful, Joey,” he said.
“Thank you?” Seriously, what was I supposed to say to that when my life was on the line? This man’s timing was just plain awful, and he gave me the creeps.
“I’m a huge fan,” he continued.
I stared at his knife.
“That bear is about six feet away,” Zane said, his voice ever tightening. “He’s not scared away yet, which means I don’t think he will be.”
Kent gripped his knife and stepped closer. I held my breath. Waiting. Untrusting.
After everything I’d been through, how could I be too trusting?
I watched carefully.
Kent shoved the knife toward me . . . no, toward the rope at my midsection.
I released my breath.
He wasn’t going to kill me.
But that didn’t mean I was out of the woods yet. Literally.
He worked the strands until they began fraying. He glanced over my shoulder. Sweat poured down his face.
The bear, I realized. He was looking at the bear.
More underbrush cracked.
Yogi was getting closer and closer.
To confirm it, a bellow filled the air.
Yogi was here.
The rope loosened. Finally, it dropped around my feet.
“We’ve got to get out of here!” Zane yelled.
Before I could respond, Zane grabbed my arm. We darted through the underbrush.
The bear was right on our heels.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“I thought they were more scared of us than we were of them!” I yelled.
“Apparently not.” Zane continued to pull me through the grass. “Maybe that’s just snakes and spiders.”
Against my better instincts, I grabbed Kent’s arm too. He wasn’t running nearly fast enough, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave him behind.
As soon as we reached my car, all three of us dove inside. I slammed the door just as the bear reached us.
It bellowed outside my door. Put a huge bear paw, complete with razor-sharp claws, on my window.
We all screamed.
The bear rose on two feet, towering over my car, and finally came down with its front paws right above us.
Its nails scraped against metal, the sound making my senses crazy.
My Miata!
But we were alive. That was the important thing.
Cars could be replaced. Lives couldn’t.
What wasn’t important was the fact that I was sitting in Zane’s lap and Kent had his arms around me. I wasn’t sure how we’d all become a mangled formation of limbs and screams, but we had.
The bear moaned again and pounded its paws on top of the car. What in the world? Was it trying to dig its way into the car?
Even worse—would it work?
I’d never thought about it before.
The whole car shook. The nails-on-the-chalkboard sound continued. My life flashed before my eyes.
Just then, a gunshot split the air.
The bear froze.
Then it darted away from us and into the woods.
I released my breath. Maybe we were finally safe.
Then I remembered the sound of gunfire.
Was Currie back and determined to finish what he started? Did he realize I had the CD-ROM—which was now broken?
I looked behind me—beyond Zane and Kent and random arms and legs.
My stomach sank.
It was worse than Currie.
It was Jackson.
I’d asked for space, and so far our paths had crossed three times since then. This was the fourth. The whole space thing wasn’t really working out for me. At. All.
Jackson strode to my car and pulled the door open.
I could only imagine what we all looked like. A caricature of fear and wimpiness. The opposite of Jackson.
“Would anyone care to explain this?” His gaze flickered from person to person, a mixture of confusion, amusement, and worry.
I pulled myself together enough to climb out. Then I straightened my shoulders and cleared my throat, trying to find anything that remotely resembled dignity.
I noted the blood dripping from my wrists.
The mud and scum that had dried on my feet.
The huge welts all over my legs.
I felt something moving in my hair. I reached for it and pulled out a . . .
Spider?
I screamed and flung it into the wilderness, all my supposed composure completely gone, and I couldn’t fake it anymore. I shook my limbs, desperate to lose any more creepy crawlies. I swatted my hair, slapped a couple of flies who’d stopped by the party, and did a little dance to make it all even more embarrassing.
I finally straightened my shirt and listened as Zane and Kent climbed out. It was like we’d been in a clown car and a freak show was emerging.
“W
hat are you doing here?” I asked, wishing I could erase the last sixty seconds.
Speaking of which . . . I glanced around again, just to make sure the bear was gone. I didn’t see him or any of his friends.
“Someone called and left an anonymous tip.” Jackson nodded behind him. “I came here with Ranger Anderson to check things out. I had no idea I’d find you here.”
I glanced in the distance and saw a ranger checking out the tree.
“Who called you?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I don’t know. They didn’t leave a name.”
“They?” My throat tightened. He was being purposefully vague.
Jackson’s eyes narrowed. “She.”
Realization hit me. “My mom.”
“I don’t know that.” He nodded up and down the length of me. “Now do you want to explain, because I’m really out of ideas.”
Did I want to explain? Did I want to tell him about the broken CD-ROM in my pocket? He’d take it from me. Wouldn’t tell me what was on it.
Maybe one of my old friends from Hollywood could fix it. Right? It wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility. Or how about Adam? He was practically a genius.
“Joey?” Jackson repeated, still staring at me.
The day was wearing on me. The sun was just beginning to set, yet so much had happened. I was so tired. Tired of everything. Of the struggle, of not knowing, of trying and failing.
I slapped another fly. “I was following a lead.”
Jackson’s hands went to his hips. “And?”
I remembered how everything had played out and frowned. “And . . . Currie showed up.”
Jackson tapped his foot. “And?”
I remembered the tub. I desperately wanted to know what was inside. “He took what I found.”
“Joey . . . what did you find?” Jackson let out a sigh, obviously tired of pulling information from me. I’d been in his shoes before, and it wasn’t fun.
I pressed my lips together, still not wanting to give everything up. “It was a container that my dad left here.”
Something flashed in his eyes. “I’ll ask you later how you figured that out. What was inside?”
I told him, leaving out the part about the CD-ROM. Then I told him about Currie tying us up and the bear and the reporter. I cast a scowl at Kent as I talked about him. He didn’t seem to care.
Flaw-Abiding Citizen (The Worst Detective Ever Book 6) Page 12