Dangerous Sanctuary

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Dangerous Sanctuary Page 19

by Shirlee McCoy


  He thought for a moment. “By lunchtime.”

  “Which is?”

  He tapped the large round watch on his arm. “Noon.”

  “That’s right. So that means you need to be aware of the time to see how far you go in so that you know when to turn around to be back by noon. If I have to worry, we won’t be doing this again.” She made this speech every time.

  “I won’t make you worry, Maya. Do I ever?”

  Oh, had he. When she’d first started to loosen the reins, letting him have some freedom, she’d known it would be a learning curve for them both. But Pastor Michael Foster and his wife, Alicia, had insisted it was time to let Brady grow up, and Brady’s doctor had agreed.

  Because Maya respected and cherished the older couple and Doctor Brown as well, and relied on them for sound counsel, she’d done as they’d suggested and given Brady more control and allowed him to make his own decisions.

  But he wasn’t good with directions or managing his time, something they’d been working diligently to change.

  This would be his fifth outing seeking treasure in as many weeks. She was pretty sure he understood the concept of time now and knew how to use his compass, but that didn’t stop the little flutter of unease from curling in the pit of her stomach.

  For her own piece of mind, she’d filled his small backpack with a first-aid kit, insect replant, sunscreen, reflective thermal blanket, a compass, a walkie-talkie, a cell phone and a flashlight, along with a water bottle and snacks.

  “Your house keys?”

  Brady unzipped the front pouch and pointed to a set of keys dangling from a carabiner attached to the inside of the bag. A small square wireless tracker covered by a sticker of Brady’s favorite cartoon character hung next to the keys. She had the corresponding GPS tracking device in the office.

  “It’s packed and all set to go, Maya.” Brady zipped the pack closed and secured it over his shoulders on top of his blue down jacket.

  “Hat?”

  He yanked his baseball cap from the pocket of his jeans and secured it on his head. “Okay?”

  Her heart squeezed. “Be careful. And stay on the path. No straying.”

  With a salute, he ran out the side exit, the echo of his booted feet ringing in her ears.

  She hurried to the front window in time to see him pedaling his bike down the sidewalk toward the far end of town where he’d turn onto the road that would take him to the trailhead. He waved to people on the street who waved back.

  She touched the glass pane and said a prayer of protection for her younger brother.

  A stab of guilt ate away at her. Her gaze lifted to the white snowcapped peaks of the mountains. If she had prayed for her parents that long-ago winter night instead of being angry that she’d been stuck at home babysitting her brother while they went off and had fun, maybe they’d still be alive.

  Movement across the street drew her gaze to the tall good-looking sheriff’s deputy lifting his hand in a wave, his dark-eyed gaze locking with hers.

  Embarrassment flooded her and she snatched her hand away from the windowpane. She quickly stepped back. Great. The handsome officer probably thought she was flirting with him. Ugh. The next time he came in for tack would be uncomfortable.

  The last thing she wanted in her life was romance. There’d been a few men over the years who’d shown interest but she had her hands full with Brady and the store.

  To complicate things with a relationship... The thought was overwhelming. What if she fell in love and then something happened to the guy?

  She had Brady, her friends and the town. What more did she need?

  * * *

  At noon, Maya had watched the back entrance, expecting Brady to come racing into the store any moment. At one o’clock, she paced by the front window, her gaze searching the main street of Bristle Township for signs of him. She checked the GPS device. The red dot showed he was on the Aspen Creek Trail. Most likely he’d found something or was digging beneath a bush with no clue how worried she was waiting for him to return.

  By two, when the red dot hadn’t moved, dread that something had happened to him set in. She flipped the open sign over, jumped in her Jeep and drove to the trailhead. Brady’s bike was sitting in the bike rack.

  Trying to keep her breathing even, she told herself not to panic, even though her heart rate was way faster than normal, making her chest hurt. She checked the handheld GPS device, glad to see the little red dot indicating that Brady was still on the trail but worry poked at her. He hadn’t moved in a long time. Had he fallen and was injured?

  The thought galvanized her into action. She hurried up the dirt path. “Brady!”

  On either side of the trail, tall aspens and pines grew, their branches spreading out to form a canopy that only allowed intermittent shafts of sunlight to stream through, while otherwise shrouding the path in gloom. The thin air was crisp and a shiver prickled the fine hairs at Maya’s nape.

  “Brady! Answer me,” she called out, praying that her search wasn’t futile.

  Where were all the other hikers? She could only guess because of the later hour in the day that most had already made their treks up and back down the mountain path. She rounded a bend in the trail. According to the GPS tracker, she should have been right on top of Brady. But the path was empty.

  With her breath lodged in her lungs, she searched the bushes on the sides of the trail. A patch of blue snagged her gaze. She dived for the bramble of tangled foliage. “Brady?”

  Horror closed her throat. It was her baby brother’s favorite backpack. She tugged the blue backpack from beneath the thorny bush. She hugged the bag to her chest, her heart thumping as fear clouded her vision. Where was her brother?

  Had he strayed off the path? Was he hurt and needing help?

  She put on the backpack so that her hands were free to push back the low branches as she made her way into the thick forest.

  The snap of a branch breaking sent a bird flapping from a tree branch above. Maya’s heart jackknifed as she froze, unsure from which direction the noise had come. “Brady?”

  Something hard and heavy slammed into her from behind, sending her sprawling forward on her hands and knees. Dirt and debris bit into her skin. Rough hands grabbed at her. She rolled away, landing awkwardly on the backpack. A hooded person with a strange mask covering their face rushed toward her.

  Terror had her rolling again into the bushes. She scrambled to her feet, ignoring the ripping of her jeans on a branch. The hooded figure yanked on the straps of the backpack. Maya delivered a low fisted shot to the person’s gut, knocking the assailant back several steps, enough so that Maya could twist away with her brother’s pack still on and flee into the woods.

  She ran as fast as the terrain would allow, dodging branches that scratched at her hands, tore her coat and plucked at her hair.

  Behind her, she heard the thrashing of her attacker through the underbrush, quickly gaining on her.

  She had to find safety. She darted around a copse of trees and spied a downed trunk. She jumped over it and hunkered down, out of sight.

  Please, Lord, protect me. Protect Brady.

  Why was someone trying to hurt her? Where was her brother?

  * * *

  “There’s been another injured treasure hunter outside Denver,” Deputy Kaitlyn Lanz announced in grim irritation.

  Deputy Alex Trevino shook his head. “That makes five in the past week.” He rose and headed to the sheriff’s office. Pausing in the doorway, he addressed the older man sitting at the oak desk. “Sir, we really need to do something about Patrick Delaney and his treasure hunt.”

  Sheriff James Ryder ran a hand through his silver hair. “If I thought there was something to be done, I’d do it. I’ve talked to Patrick. Mayor Olivia has talked to Patrick. Even the feds have talked to Patrick. The old coot won’t r
elent. He’s the town’s biggest supporter so there’s only so much pressure we can exert on him. He’s within his legal rights.”

  Frustration beat a steady tempo at the back of Alex’s head. “It’s only a matter of time before we have issues here in Bristle Township.”

  “Don’t borrow trouble, Trevino,” the sheriff said. “How are your plans for the festival coming along?”

  Alex was in charge of the security measures for the upcoming Harvest Festival and parade. “Good. The auxiliary volunteers have committed to patrolling Main Street. Between the volunteers, Kait, Daniel, Chase and me, we’ll have the festival covered.”

  “What about the parade?”

  “That, too.”

  The outer office door to the department banged open. Alex spun, his hand going to his holstered weapon. The other three deputies on duty rose from their desk chairs and took similar on-guard stances.

  An older man with wisps of gray hair covering his head and a panicked expression rushed into the station house. Ethan Johnson.

  “Mr. Johnson, can I help you?” the station receptionist, Carole Manning, hurriedly trailed after him.

  “Come quick,” Ethan said to the room at large. “It’s the Gallos.”

  Though he relaxed his stance, alarm threaded through Alex’s veins. An image of a dark-haired beauty rose in Alex’s mind. He’d seen Maya Gallo just this morning standing in the window of the hardware store. Though he didn’t know the woman well, he found her to be pleasant when she helped him with tack and such for his horse, Truman. “What’s happened?”

  “I was there this morning, but I had to come back because I forgot to get some bedding for the nests in my chicken coop and the store is closed. Only the door is unlocked. It’s not like Maya to leave the store unattended. Something’s happened.”

  The sheriff stepped out of his office. “Now, Ethan, I’m sure Maya and Brady are fine. Maybe they are at the diner having a late lunch or have gone home for the day and forgot to lock up. Let’s not jump to unnecessary conclusions.”

  Ethan shook his head. “No, Sheriff. I tell you, this isn’t like Maya. And Brady was all riled up this morning about something.”

  “Probably the treasure,” Carole stated with a sage nod. “Brady is big into finding the treasure and a new clue was released this morning.”

  Alex glanced at his superior, then back to Carole. “But the clue could be anywhere in the Rocky Mountains.”

  “True.” She walked over to his desk and sat at the computer, her fingers flying over the keys. “Here. Take a look at this. Mr. Delaney put up a partial map.”

  They all huddled around the desk to look at the computer screen.

  “That could be Eagle Crest.” Deputy Daniel Rawlings towered over them at nearly six-three and pointed to a spot on the screen.

  “Or it could be any number of mountains from Canada to New Mexico,” Kaitlyn pointed out, flipping her blond ponytail over her shoulder. “There’s no way to be sure that’s our Eagle Crest Mountain.”

  “Well, whatever the case,” the sheriff said, “we need to do our jobs and make sure our citizens are safe.” He pinned Alex with a hard look. “Find the Gallo siblings.”

  Glad to be put in charge, Alex nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  “Ethan, let me walk you out.” The sheriff gestured for the other man to leave with him.

  “Okay, you heard the sheriff,” Alex said. “Kait, get the Gallos’ home address from Carole and see if the Gallos are there. Daniel, you go to the store and check it out. See if there are signs of a struggle or something that will tell us why Maya closed up early.”

  “What do you want me to do?” Deputy Chase Fredrick asked. He was the youngest and newest of the deputies. Medium height and lean with sandy-blond hair and dark blue eyes, he had a boyish face hidden by a well-trimmed, close-cropped beard.

  “You’re with me,” Alex told him.

  “Got it.” Chase went back to his desk to grab his jacket.

  “What are you going to do?” Kaitlyn’s hazel eyes filled with concern and curiosity.

  Grabbing his jacket and shrugging into it, he said, “If Brady and Maya are out hunting for treasure, they most likely started at the Eagle Crest trailhead.”

  * * *

  Alex brought his sheriff’s-department-issued SUV to a halt in the parking lot at the lower trailhead of Eagle Crest Mountain. Chase pulled in next to him in an identical SUV. Alex noted five other vehicles in the lot. His gaze zeroed in on a mountain bike in the bike rack near the trailhead kiosk.

  Brady’s bike. The teenager had ridden down Main Street this morning. Alex hadn’t thought much about it at the time. Now it made sense. Brady was trying to find the Delaney treasure. The map that had been released this morning, though pretty generic, could arguably have some similarities to the mountain trail ahead of him. Alex climbed out of the SUV and met Chase at the bike rack.

  “What now, boss?” Chase asked.

  Alex tried not to flinch at the word boss. He wasn’t the boss. He knew there were those in the department and in town looking for Alex to step into the role of sheriff when the old man retired, which he’d been threatening to do for the last three years that Alex had been on the force.

  That the sheriff put him in charge of this investigation didn’t mean anything. Sheriff Ryder usually picked one of his deputies to take point.

  The sun hung low in the sky. Shading his eyes, Alex gauged they had only a few more hours of daylight left. “We’ll cover more ground on horseback,” he told Chase.

  The Bristle County Sheriff’s Department continued the long tradition of patrols on horseback like many Western states. Comprised of both armed deputies and unarmed civilian volunteers, also referred to as auxiliary members, the patrol provided mounted search and rescue as well as mounted community and forest patrols.

  “Get on the horn with Carole and round up as many civilian volunteers available. Then run every license plate here. I’m going home to get Truman,” Alex stated, referring to his horse. “I’ll meet you back here in one half hour. Keep an alert eye out for Maya Gallo and her brother. If they come out of the forest, radio me.”

  “Will do.” Chase walked away, already using his shoulder radio to contact the station’s dispatcher.

  Alex sped home and in the short time it took him to return to the trailhead, towing Truman in the horse trailer, there were three other civilian volunteers with their horses waiting.

  “Riley, Trevor.” Alex shook the father’s hand and then the teenage son’s hand. The Howard men were dedicated volunteers. “Thank you for coming.” There was no mistaking the family resemblance between the father and son. They also had identical quarter horses.

  Then Alex shook hands with the third volunteer, local dress shop owner, Leslie Quinn, a pretty blonde with blue eyes. Leslie stared at him warily as she stood beside her sturdy paint sporting pink bows tied to its mane. No doubt for the upcoming parade. “Deputy.”

  Alex didn’t know the reserved woman well. She tended to keep to herself when they were on patrol. “Leslie, appreciate you joining us.”

  Chase hurried over. Alex gave him a questioning look.

  “Two local hikers came down the trail but not the Gallo siblings.”

  Disappointment shot through Alex and he realized how much he had been hoping to discover Maya and her brother had already descended the trail. “Did the hikers see the Gallos?”

  Chase shook his head. “Claimed not to. I took their contact info.”

  “All right, listen up, everyone.” Alex explained the situation to the others. “Okay, there are two main paths to take from here. Riley and Trevor—” he gestured to the Howards “—take the Pine Ridge Trail. Miss Quinn and I will take Aspen Creek Trail.”

  Alex mounted Truman, a chestnut-colored sixteen-hand Tennessee walking horse, and headed the horse toward the trailhead,
where the father and son pair peeled away while Alex and Leslie took the main trail. A half hour later, Alex held up his hand in a fist, signaling for Leslie to stop. Alex slid off Truman to inspect several broken branches on the right side of the trail. It looked as if somebody had gone crashing through the underbrush.

  Before he could move farther into the forest, his radio crackled on his shoulder.

  “Alex, you better get over here,” Riley’s voice came through the line.

  Thumbing the mic attached to his radio, Alex asked, “What did you find?”

  “A dead body.”

  Copyright © 2019 by Terri Reed

  ISBN-13: 9781488040283

  Dangerous Sanctuary

  Copyright © 2019 by Shirlee McCoy

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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