Secret Service Setup

by Jessica R. Patch

  “The only way to know for sure is to double back to the cabin and check the Suburban.”

  “Unless they swiped it to remove any trace of evidence.” Jody fisted a hand. “I hate not knowing anything definitive.”

  “Me, too.” Evan placed a hand on her shoulder. “Look.” He pointed to a thicket. “Let’s set up here tonight. It’s secluded and we’ve been walking awhile.”

  “We need fire.”

  “I know. I hate to chance it, though, but...” Evan shivered. “We have to or we’ll freeze.” He busied himself with creating a pit while Jody gathered wood. He retrieved a lighter from his backpack and lit the kindling. A small fire blazed and Jody held her hands out, thankful for the heat.

  “If we double back tomorrow, don’t you think they’d expect that from us?” She scooted closer to the fire, the light illuminating Evan’s face—the day-old growth on his cheeks and chin reminded her of the scrape on her skin when he’d kissed her. Should she bring it up? Reprimand him?

  “I’m not sure because I don’t know who we’re dealing with. Are they smart enough to guess our next move? Pros? Amateurs?” He tossed a twig in the fire. “Can you call Wilder? Have him meet us at the cabin.”

  Jody scowled. “I had two burner phones. One is on the coffee table burned to ash and the other is in the SUV console. For an emergency.”

  She should have packed one in each backpack but she had assumed they’d have one on them. Never dreamed they’d be smoked out of the cabin. That’s what she got for assuming. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. We’ll trek to the SUV in the morning. Call Wilder and I’ll relocate. Alone this time.”

  “You need someone to watch your back, Evan. You can’t go rogue.”

  “I am sick of having this discussion. I’m risking your life. Your reputation.” He flinched at his words.

  “Then stop having it. I’m here. End of story. My choice. And while we’re on things to stop, you can’t kiss me, Evan. What was that?”

  “I don’t know.” He jumped up, paced. “I know what you said. And I agree—there is no future for us. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. It doesn’t mean I’m not afraid for you. I am all of those things. I got scared and reacted.” He crumpled by the fire and hung his head between his knees. “I’m confused.”

  Join the club.

  “You hate me and yet here you are fighting for me. I don’t know what to do with that.”

  “I guess accept it.” She couldn’t explain it herself. After everything, the last person Jody should want to protect was Evan. But all she wanted was to make sure he lived. Was safe. Exonerated. She didn’t know what to do with that, either. Love and hate was a blurry line. And she was riding right down the middle.

  No, that wasn’t true. “I don’t hate you, Evan.” Not anymore. Three years ago she had. Hate had left her bruised and battered, gaping from brutal wounds. But time had ebbed and those wounds had scabbed, leaving her now only tender to the touch and colored with reminders of the battle she’d gone through.

  “But you won’t forgive me,” he murmured.

  “I don’t know if I can.” Forgiving meant saying what he did was okay. Harboring the bitterness was eating her from the inside out. “Just promise you won’t kiss me again.”

  He held her gaze, the blue of his eyes flickering in the firelight.

  “I can’t,” he rasped. “Because the truth is I might. The truth is I want to kiss you every moment, every day. I want to kiss you right now. And I know I shouldn’t. I know it can’t lead anywhere. I know we’re done for...but I still want to.”

  A lump formed in her throat. “Well, don’t,” she managed to say, her insides fevering.

  Silence hung and Evan toyed with a stick. Finally he threw it in the fire. “Are you seeing anyone?”

  “I’m not talking about my relationships with you, Evan.” The fact that she hadn’t dated anyone since him wasn’t his business. Trust didn’t come easy and she’d been afraid to put herself out there. Besides, she’d regretted the kind of relationship she and Evan had shared. She wouldn’t let it happen again.

  “I haven’t seen anyone since you.”

  “Evan,” she insisted. “You don’t owe me your dating history. Can we please get off this subject?” She was nearly in tears.

  He nodded. “Sure. I’ll keep watch and the fire going.”

  Maybe this fire, but theirs had died, and nothing was left but cold ash.

  EIGHT

  Evan hadn’t slept much. Each time the fired died and the cold settled in he’d woken and stoked it. Why couldn’t he let the past go and accept that Jody wasn’t going to forgive him? He couldn’t escape the truth. Evan wasn’t over Jody, not by a long shot. She was as strong as she’d ever been. She’d moved on with her life. Worked in a respectable job. Now she was going the distance and risking her life for him. She hadn’t taken an oath like in the Secret Service. She did this by choice and it unraveled every cord inside him.

  If he knew for certain he could be a better man, if he knew he could keep from hurting her, he might beg and plead for another shot. But she wouldn’t even forgive him. She would never be able to look at him without thinking about what he’d done in the past, and she refused to discuss it. She was right, though. He shouldn’t have kissed her.

  He made sure the fire was completely out and then he woke her. “Hey,” he whispered. “Time to get going.”

  Jody massaged her neck and winced. “What time is it?”

  “Seven fifteen. You up for the hike back to the SUV?”

  She stood, stretched. “Give me a minute or two?”

  He nodded and she grabbed her backpack and darted into the woods. A few minutes later she returned.

  “We need to head back north.” He unzipped his pack and pulled out a granola bar. “You hungry?” He knew she wouldn’t be. She never ate first thing in the morning. Only coffee.

  “I’d kill for a cup of coffee.”

  He grinned. “Me, too.” He bit into his granola bar. “But try to eat soon. We need the energy.”

  They hiked in comfortable silence for about an hour. The sound of motorbikes roared in the distance. The trails out here were perfect for a day of dirt biking, but it was a bit cold for it this early in the day.

  Jody paused. “You don’t think...?”

  “That whoever shot at us last night bought dirt bikes to find us?” Evan wouldn’t bank on it, but then he was worth two million bucks. People had done crazier things for less money.

  The roaring ripped through the air. Two red-and-white dirt bikes with riders in dark helmets and black eye protectors crested the hill.

  The one in front reached behind him.

  “Duck!” Jody yelled, and shoved Evan behind a tree.

  Shots fired.

  “We only have so many bullets and who knows how many people are out here. Conserve. If we have to clip them, fine. But only if necessary.” Evan pointed for Jody to dart through the woods; the dirt bikes followed.

  “Get off the main trail, make it hard for them!” Evan yelled over the ripping and roaring of the motorcycles. Jody rushed off the trail and into the dense foliage, Evan following close behind.

  Veering off the path didn’t deter the motorbikes. They were built for this terrain.

  Bullets exploded in their direction.

  Evan circled back north, but they couldn’t shake these guys.

  Racing downhill, he and Jody jumped fallen limbs and tree stumps. The riders had split up now, hedging them in and herding them as if leading them farther away from the SUV.

  Evan couldn’t be sure if these riders were the same people who had burned down the cabin or if a new set of crazy assassins was after them. But the biggest question was—if there was more than one pair of killers, how had they all found Evan and Jody? Evan itched for a lapt
op, a way to connect with the cyber world.

  Another shot fired.

  Pop!

  Pop!

  Jody’s foot snagged on a fallen limb and she fell, rolling down the hill before Evan could catch her.

  Evan sprinted toward her.

  The sound of motorbikes grew closer.

  Jody lay on her back, holding her knee, pain scrunching her face. Blood seeped through her khaki cargo pants.

  “Can you walk?” The engines grew even louder. They would be spotted any moment. His heart kicked up a notch.

  “I—I think so.”

  They had mere seconds before they were caught.

  Jody couldn’t run.

  He scanned the forest and eyed an old dead tree that had fallen. “Come on!” He snatched her into his arms and raced to it. “It’s going to stink in there for you, but you’ll have to deal.” Lowering her inside the hollowed-out trunk, he squeezed her hand. “I’ll be right over there. Stay down.”

  Jody winced but nodded. The smell of dead wood and animals must be doing a number on her senses, but he had no other option. He bolted to a cluster of bushes and dived behind them, thistles stabbing through his clothing. He bit back a wince.

  The dirt bikes came into view, slowing down. Searching. Evan crouched into a ball, trying to become invisible. God, please don’t let them see us. Hide us. Shelter us.

  It felt like time was stretching to a complete stop. The low hum of the bikes continued as they searched through the woods. Evan’s breath had turned ragged. How bad was Jody’s wound? If she couldn’t walk it was a total game-changer.

  The dirt bikes revved up and drove back through, slowing in front of him.

  He crouched lower.

  Didn’t breathe.

  Didn’t move.

  One of the bikes revved its engine and rode out of the woods, but one stayed behind. The motorbike idled, then slowly moved toward the hollowed-out tree.

  Evan had drawn his weapon, prepared to lose a few bullets, when the motorbike sped up and by the tree.

  Evan waited a beat.

  Two.

  Made sure they weren’t circling back. When it was safe, he slipped from the brush to the dead tree he’d hidden Jody inside.

  “I think they’re gone.”

  Jody pushed herself up from the tree, gun in hand. Her pants were torn on the thigh. She separated the tear for a better look. “Great,” she muttered. “I think I landed on a tree stump when I fell. It’s not good, Evan.”

  He knelt and looked at her, asking for silent permission to examine the wound.

  She nodded and he winced at the gash on her thigh. Blood and dirt hid the depth of the wound. He grabbed a bottle of water from his backpack and rinsed the cut. “You need stitches, Jo.”

  “I was afraid of that.” She handed him her backpack. “My pack has a first-aid kit.”

  He rifled through and found it. “This is gonna hurt.” He cleaned the wound and his hands, then took a sterile needle and thread. “You ready?”

  She clamped her jaw. “Do it.” Jody flinched and sucked in air through her teeth as the needle pierced her flesh.

  “Sorry, Jo. You need about five.”

  She braced herself and he finished stitching her up, then applied an antibiotic ointment. With another needle and thread, he quickly sewed the pants back together to help protect the wound from further debris and possible infection.

  “Can you walk?” he asked, and helped her stand.

  “It burns and my ankle is turned, but not so bad I can’t get moving. I don’t think we should attempt to head back to the cabin. They’ll expect that. And why not? It was our plan.” She winced again. “Let’s keep going south. Find that ranger’s station. By now Wilder has called...several times. Which means he’ll know something is up, and if I know him, he’s already fanning out to find us.”

  Good. He searched the ground and found a large limb. He grabbed it and sloughed off some bark before handing it to Jody. “Here. Walking stick.”

  She accepted it and tried it out. “Thanks.”

  Evan stayed behind in case she lost her footing. That leg would be on fire from the stitches and tightness. Jody wasn’t a complainer and was tough as nails. He’d always admired that about her. The hike sloped downhill. Plus for her.

  About thirty minutes in, he stopped. “Let’s take a breather.”

  She wouldn’t admit she needed rest. Instead, she’d push herself further than necessary. They drank some water. The sun was bright but the wind was biting. The constant movement was the only thing keeping them from shivering. “I wish we knew how far the ranger’s station was. It’s like hiking blind. And we don’t know if those guys will come back.”

  Jody sat on a tree stump and rubbed around her wound, then popped a couple ibuprofens.

  “How would more than one person know where we are? It would make sense that whoever shot at us at CCM tracked the SUV or followed us—and did a good job because neither of us caught it. But the dirt bikes feel...like maybe someone else.” With no way to reach the outside world, they’d stay clueless. “I guess we trust God to keep us safe.”

  Jody grunted and sipped on her water.

  What happened with her friend in the Middle East had done a number on her. They’d discussed this often when they were together, but never through the lens of faith—which had clearly been affected, and he wondered how much he had affected that faith. Back then it wouldn’t have crossed his mind. He never thought he’d done anything wrong. But now...he felt responsible. “Hey, Jo?”

  “What?”

  “Do you still believe? In God?”

  Jody capped her water bottle and tucked it in her backpack. “I’ve always believed in God. I’m just not sure He cares as much as I thought He did when I was a kid.” She shrugged.

  Evan wasn’t sure if he should speak up or not. He was fairly new to faith. “Is it...is it my fault?” The thought seared into his chest. His father had never wanted his mother to go church, and for years she hadn’t. Evan would have never forbidden Jody’s church attendance or public faith, but he’d never done anything to help her live it out, either. He wouldn’t have had a clue how.

  Jody adjusted her pack and stretched out her bad leg. “Evan, I was angry at God because no matter how hard I prayed or did the right thing, bad stuff still happened. Justice wasn’t served. People, including myself, were hurt. When we met...you filled an empty place.”

  His head spun. He hadn’t been in a new believer’s class long to learn that God had to fill all the empty places. He’d used alcohol and partying. Jody...Jody had used him. And he’d let her. “Then it was me.”

  Jody’s blues softened with sincerity and compassion. “No, Evan. It wasn’t you. It was me. I can’t blame anybody for the way I lived but myself.”

  “I made it easier, though, didn’t I? Because I wasn’t a believer then.”

  She stood, keeping her weight on the walking stick. “Not intentionally. Every mistake I ever made with you was my decision alone. Being with you was my choice. I knew you weren’t a believer. I knew you played hard and fast. Don’t blame yourself for that, okay?”

  It was something. But still Evan felt guilty. “I’m sorry anyway. I’m not that guy anymore. Whether you believe it or not.”

  “I know you’re not.” She brushed a strand of hair from her eyes and the truth showed clearly. She did believe him. “Let’s get moving. We don’t know if those guys will come back for another round. For two million, I would.” She grinned and the atmosphere instantly lightened.

  Evan chuckled and quietly prayed that Jody would find her faith again, and this time he could be a help and not a hindrance.

  * * *

  Jody’s leg throbbed and was on fire. She hoped it wasn’t leading to infection. They’d walked for hours with a few stops in between. So
far they’d been safe by staying off the main hiking trails. It was easier to avoid people altogether. Any face could be a killer’s.

  They’d eaten beef jerky and a couple packs of tuna for lunch but it was now long gone, and while she hated to admit she couldn’t go any farther, she couldn’t.

  Too much weighed on her mind. Evan had felt bad about his part in her past. He reminded her of Locke when he was a little boy and felt bad about breaking one of her Barbies. Wide-eyed and hopeful things could be fixed.

  She was glad that Evan was a man of faith. Here he was trusting God with countless, faceless killers after him, along with being framed, and instead of giving up on God, Evan was reciting Scripture and praying. And he didn’t seem nearly as freaked-out as Jody. Evan was being stripped bare and leaning on God. Jody had been stripped bare, too, but instead she’d become insubordinate. Following commands and orders in the navy and in God’s army had gotten her nowhere. But taking matters into her own hands and making up her own rules hadn’t panned out, either.

  Everything inside ached. She’d asked God time and again why these things had to happen, but she got no answer. No answer had meant God didn’t care. But...maybe she was wrong. Maybe no answer was an answer. A call to trust even in silence. Evan grabbed her shoulder. “Hey, is that a cabin up there?”

  Jody squinted against the sun and studied the woods. “I think so.”

  “You thinking what I’m thinking?” he asked.

  “That depends. Are you thinking we squat for the night and start again in the morning?” she asked, hoping that was his thought.

  Evan nodded and motioned her forward. “That’s exactly what I’m thinking. It’s set so far back, unless someone is familiar with the woods or an excellent tracker, we ought to be well hidden.”

  For a while anyway.

  “What if it’s not abandoned?”

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. Besides, you need off that leg and ankle.” They hiked through the dense forest and toward the cabin. No sign of occupancy. “Stay here. I’ll scope it out.”

  She didn’t argue. If it was a dangerous situation, Jody couldn’t sprint. She waited behind a pine tree while Evan stalked to the small hunting cabin. A few minutes later he returned. “It’s empty. I kicked the back door in.”