“Run.”
Keith’s harsh command yanked her to attention. He pushed her in front of him and she ran, weaving in and out of the trees. Her property backed up to the National forest. They could run for miles, get lost in the woods.
“Where are we going?” She gasped, her heart pounding, her skin clammy with sweat.
“Just move it.”
Okay. She could do that.
A gust of wind tore through the fabric of her cotton shirt. A large dark cloud cast an eerie grayness to the trees and ground.
Not more rain.
A single drop pelted her in the nose and she swiped it away with the back of her hand. Before she knew quite what had happened, they’d circled back to the house. A bit of the rock chimney poked through the thick trees. Surely he didn’t mean to go back there?
She stopped. “Keith, why are we going back?”
He tossed her a quick censured glance. “I’m going for the Jeep. You still got the keys?”
She patted the pockets of her jeans. “Yep.”
“Good. Hand ‘em over.”
A tree exploded in front of them. A piece of the bark flew off and smacked her in the cheek. She yelped and started running again. Keith picked up the pace. His long legs ate up the ground, forcing her much shorter ones to do double-time.
The ground had soaked up the moisture from yesterday’s rain, making the dirt soft and slippery. Keith angled sharply to the left, away from the house. Her foot slipped as she righted her course.
They weaved, left, right, until the trees began to blur before her eyes, burying them deep into the thick forest. Keith hopped over a thick fallen log, the prickly pine needles sticking up from the branches like a porcupine, and pulled her down beside him.
“Give me the keys.”
She fished them out of her pocket and tossed them at him.
“Good.” He pressed them into her palm and closed her fingers over them. “You get the Jeep. As fast as you can. I’ll draw them away from the house and circle back to meet you.”
“No, Keith, that’s not—”
“It’s the best way. If I can take one or both of them out, or at least buy us some time—”
She shook her head. “It’s too risky. I need you to—”
His eyes flashed irritation. “If we’re both dead, who’s left to find your son?”
She swallowed. He was right. But the thought of leaving him behind as target practice for those men made her stomach churn.
No. This was not her fault. These men were after him. He’d brought them here. Her first priority was to Ryker. She had to go...even if it meant romping on that gas pedal and leaving Keith behind.
He gripped her fist in his strong hand and she forced herself to meet his gaze. She saw her own thoughts reflected in his eyes.
“Go.” He squeezed her fingers. “I’ll be fine.” He released her hand and gave her a gentle shove.
She took a deep breath and pushed herself to her feet. Adrenaline kicked into overdrive and she ran for the Jeep. The closer she came to the house, the stronger the smell of smoke. She coughed, trying to remove the acrid stench from her throat. Through the pine branches she could see the bright orange flames that licked at the left side of her house. Smoke spiraled upward and mingled with the gray sky. Another drop of rain struck her cheek, but it wasn’t enough to curb the growing fire.
Pain squeezed her heart and she bit down hard on her lip, tasting blood. She shook herself and forced her to see the blaze for what it was: a distraction that could work in her favor. She kicked her pace up another notch. If she just kept running, she would finally see the Jeep—
Her feet hit something solid and she tripped. She struck the ground with her knees. The pain jarred straight into her hips and sliced into her palms as they connected with the rocky ground. She struggled to her feet, turned to see what she’d stumbled over and froze.
She hadn’t tripped over something, but someone.
A scream trapped in her throat. She dropped back to her knees. Her breath choked past her lips, black spots swam in front of her vision, blessedly obscuring her view. She blinked, but the spots crowded in, overlapping one another and making her lightheaded. Bile rose in her raw throat.
“Grace!”
The sharp sound of her name opened up her tunnel vision. She lifted her head. Keith was barreling down on her, his eyes wide with incredulity.
“Are you okay?”
The harsh words sounded like a roar though she knew he was deliberately keeping his voice low. His eyes darted to the ground and his feet stuttered to a stop.
He cursed. “What happened?”
“I—I tripped and I thought—but it wasn’t—it was...” She gestured to the body.
The man, clad in black from head to toe, lifted a bloody hand. “I’m...sorry...Grace...”
Her hand flew to her mouth. He knew her name?
Keith narrowed his eyes and bent forward to rip the black covering from the man’s head.
The shock of the man’s bright red hair made her gasp.
Keith’s head whipped in her direction. His eyes gleamed. “You know him?”
She nodded, tears burning against her eyelids. “Mark’s...friend. Business partner. Ryker calls him Unc—” Her voice cracked. “Uncle Jack.”
Hearing his name, the man opened his pain filled eyes. “I couldn’t let them...I didn’t know...never wanted...you and Ryker...hurt.”
“Where—where is he?”
Jack swallowed, gasped for breath. “Please, forgive me.” He closed his eyes.
She leaned forward and clutched his shoulders. “Where is he?” Damn it, she didn’t understand any of this. Her fingers twisted in the coarse fabric of his uniform as she shook him. “Tell me!”
Jack’s light blue eyes focused on her face. “Ph...”
She held her breath, anticipation and impatience knotting her stomach.
He licked his lips. “Phantom...” His eyes drifted shut and his body went limp.
“Phantom, what?” she whispered. She tugged on Jack’s shoulders, his slack face scaring the crap out of her. “Phantom, what! C’mon, answer me!”
Keith touched her shoulder. “Grace. We have to keep moving.”
She shook her head. “No. We can’t just leave him here. We have to...we have take him to a hospital. He knows where Ryker is! We can’t leave him here to die. He knows.”
He hauled her to her feet, his eyes stony and resolute. “He’s already dead.”
Chapter Four
If Keith didn’t say something soon, Grace was going to lose it. “Grace.”
Her face paled and her eyes remained focused on the body of the man she’d called Uncle Jack. Keith waited for her to acknowledge him. She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound crossed her lips. His throat throbbed in sympathy as he watched her force the words back down with a hard swallow.
He swept the surrounding area with his gaze. Flames climbed the walls of her small house, licking at the roof. The hand-painted welcome sign melted from its perch on the wall and crumbled to the front deck.
Fire crews would be on the scene soon, and he really didn’t want to stick around to answer questions.
He blinked smoke out of his eyes, ignoring the sting. “We need to keep moving.”
She nodded, but didn’t move off her knees. “He—he knew...” She clapped her hands over her mouth, hunched her shoulders and drew her body into a tight ball. “He knew.”
Damn. She was losing focus. He’d seen it often enough with green recruits to recognize the first time shock of a grisly dead body.
He crouched beside her and took her face firmly in his hand. “Look at me.”
Her chin jerked beneath his fingers. He waited until she turned her teary eyes on him. “The bastard’s gone. He can’t tell you a damn thing.”
Keith released her and shifted the familiar solid weight of the MP5 to his left hand. Then he snatched the dead man’s sidearm off his belt and pressed it into
Grace’s palm. “Let’s go.”
“I need...a minute.” She curled her fingers around the pistol, but didn’t move.
“We don’t have a minute, Grace. Get your butt in gear.” They may have lost the other gun-toting bastards for the moment, but that kind of luck never lasted long.
She mutely shook her head, her lips pressed tight.
He stifled a curse. Grabbing hold of her wrist, he yanked her to her feet.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” she said.
Oh, yeah. This was just perfect. “You can be sick later.”
She reared back, forcing him to tighten his grip on her wrist.
“Unless you want me to lose it on your shoes, you’d better let go.”
He dropped his hold on her. “Go.”
Grace whirled away, stumbled in a wide arc around Uncle Jack, and dropped to her knees in front of the nearest tree.
He grimaced and, in an effort to give her a semblance of privacy, turned his back on her. Not that it mattered since he could clearly hear her retching. It brought him back to the days of his first mission. The tension, the knot in his stomach that expressed itself in much the same way as Grace once the op was over.
“I...” From behind him, she cleared her throat.
He tossed a look over his shoulder.
Grace dragged the edge of her shirt across her mouth. “I’m ready.”
She retraced her footsteps until she reached Uncle Jack. She drew a deep breath, her spine stiffened, and focused her eyes on the dead body.
Her gaze shifted to the house. The faint orange glow of flames mingled with horror in the depths of Grace’s eyes. She dipped her head and her eyelids slid closed. How did it feel to watch a beloved home go up in smoke? Keith would’ve set fire to the shack he’d grown up in if it could have exorcised all the ghosts there.
The wood crackled, the wind kicked up, stirring the hair that curled around her ears. A sudden whoosh and pop broke away from the roaring of the flames. He grabbed her shoulder and pushed her back as the fire engulfed the roof and the trusses began to collapse.
She yanked her shoulder out of his grasp, clutched the pistol tighter with both hands, and shot him a look of pure steely determination. “Okay. Let’s go.”
The raw, whispered words were such a direct contradiction to the resolve in her eyes they struck him dumb for a moment. Her tears had left a trail down her dirt-streaked cheeks, proof that just minutes ago she’d fallen apart on him.
Thick smoke pressed in on them. He coughed and swiped at his burning eyes, sure he must have misinterpreted the look, but she still wore it. Most of the men he served with took time to learn the necessity of distancing themselves from death and loss.
Grace set her jaw and took off for the Jeep. He caught up with her, rounded to the driver’s side and slid behind the wheel. She took the passenger seat without argument.
“Keys?”
Her trembling hand passed them over. Keith put the key into the ignition and turned it hard. The Jeep started with a grinding roar. From his peripheral vision, he saw a man dash out of the trees. Their time was up.
“Get down.” Keith barked the command to Grace and leaned over to shove her head between her knees.
Perspiration coated his palms; his pulse jumped a notch. He jammed the gear into reverse and stomped on the gas pedal. The tires spun, sending gravel spraying beneath the rubber as the Jeep executed a quick one-eighty. He slammed his foot on the brake pedal and shifted into drive without waiting for the Jeep to come to a complete stop.
He checked the rearview mirror. Where did he go? Where did the son-of-a-bitch—
The man materialized from behind a tree and raised his gun. A tap-tap of bullets hit the Jeep’s hatch. Grace screeched.
“Stay down.” He ducked his head, hunching his shoulders, and forced the gas pedal to the floor. Finally, the Jeep shuddered and shot forward. At the end of the driveway, he jerked the wheel sharply to the left sending the Jeep careening onto the small county road.
Keith checked the mirror again. No sign of the gun-toting asshole. “What’s the best way to the main highway?”
Grace lifted her head. “Uh...” Her shaky hand came up to brush her hair behind her ear. “Take a right at the next crossing. It leads directly to the Beeline Highway.”
The intersection turned out to be closer than he’d anticipated, but he didn’t take the time to slow down. The top of the Jeep slashed through a few low hanging juniper branches before breaking sharp right for the turnoff.
Damn. Keith yanked the wheel to the side, practically leaning into Grace’s lap. The tires squealed and gripped the shoulder. He held his breath, praying the Jeep wouldn’t roll. His fingers clenched the steering wheel. He grit his teeth, guiding the Jeep in the direction of the skid.
Beside him, Grace’s hand shot out and caught the dash. “Think they’ll follow us?”
The Jeep jumped back onto the road. Keith let up on the accelerator, his heart slowing in his chest.
“No. Too hot.” The faint wail of a fire engine disturbed the sound of their harsh breathing. “They’ll be long gone. Fire crew’s on its way.”
“Who’s they?”
He blew out a breath. “Mercenaries.”
“Merc...” She shook her head. “That can’t be right. Why would Jack be involved with them? It doesn’t make sense.”
“People do a lot of things for money, Grace.”
“But he was Mark’s friend. He worked with him.”
“Doing what? Selling software?” Keith snorted, training his eyes on the open road before him. “The fact is, good ‘ole Jack could’ve just been spouting off a load of bullshit back there. Maybe he doesn’t know where Mark and Ryker are.”
“You really don’t think he was telling the truth?” Her voice rose, hinting that the thought had never crossed her mind.
“Phantom? C’mon, Grace, that’s an extremely vague clue. It means nothing to me. How about you?”
“Are you suggesting we don’t check it out?”
“Check what out?” Frustrated, Keith smacked the heel of his hand on the steering wheel. “We don’t even know if it refers to a person or a place or—” He clenched his jaw. They were getting nowhere fast. “Can you think of any place Mark might’ve taken Ryker? Somewhere that had a special significance?”
“No.” Grace gripped her hands together.
“Grace...”
“I’m thinking.”
“Well, you’d better make it quick ‘cause the highway’s up ahead.”
“I don’t know!” She threw her hands wide. “I don’t know, okay? Are you satisfied?”
Why would he be satisfied? He narrowed his eyes, sliding a glance her way, and resisted the urge to strike back at her. Only a world-class jerk could strike back at the equivalent of Mother Theresa.
Yeah, Grace seemed way too good to be true. Hell, she looked too good to be true. Not like any mother he’d ever met. Even with dirt smudging her cheeks, dried tears smattering her skin, and a disheveled strand of hair poking at her jaw, she made his heart beat faster.
He’d been hoping to find the equivalent of a map with a ‘Ryker is here’ sticker so he could return her son safe and sound, free to continue on with his own quest for answers. He was in way over his head with her as it was. He didn’t like the way his heart kick-started when he looked at her, or the way she made him remember his hopes and dreams he’d long since abandoned during all those cold nights in hollowed-out bunkers.
He braked at the entrance to the highway and watched the remnants of morning rush hour trickle past.
“Where’s the last place you think Mark would take Ryker? Somewhere so out of character it would be absurd to look for him there.”
She turned bewildered eyes on him. “I...anywhere Mark would have to rough it, I guess.” She bit her lip. “He skipped out of every Cub Scout camping trip Ryker had.” Her gaze dropped to her lap. “But that was before.”
Keith frowned. “Be
fore what?”
“Before I knew that pretty much everything he’s ever told me was a lie.”
He nodded. Like Grace, he much preferred cold, hard truth to the false security of lies. He swallowed back an unfamiliar lump of sympathy and curled his fingers tighter around the steering wheel.
“What about a hard to reach place? Like a cabin or a boat? Or...or a mountaintop retreat.”
“Oh, my God. That’s it.” She straightened. “The cabins at the bottom of the Grand Canyon. You can only get to the ranch by mule or on foot. Phantom Ranch!” Her eyes lit with excitement. “When Mark and I were first married we spent the weekend there. He complained the entire time. It was too primitive, too muggy...That’s got to be it.”
“Would he really take an eight-year-old asthmatic for a hike down into the Grand Canyon?”
“If he hiked and Ryker went by mule. Yes. It would be perfect. Who would think to look there?” She clutched at his arm and shook it. “We’ve got to get to the Grand Canyon.”
Her slender, pale fingers curled around his forearm, a stark contrast to his muddied sleeve.
He tried to ignore the sweet warmth of her hand. “I say we keep thinking of other options.”
Her grip tightened. “No. He’s there. I know it.”
The heat of her trickled through his shirt despite the way he steeled against it, imbuing his veins with warmth and a comforting sort of strength he hadn’t let himself feel in a long time.
He shook her off and tossed her a glare. “What, do you have some sort of motherly ESP? How does that work? Is it like a homing beacon or something? Can you dig deep and tell us where your son is?”
Grace curled her arm around her middle. “If I could, I wouldn’t have asked you for help.” Some of the fire returned to her eyes. “We wouldn’t have some maniacs chasing us. We wouldn’t be getting further and further away from my son while you insist on arguing with me.”
He threw the Jeep into park. “This is all my fault, is that it? Go ahead and blame me if you must, but what Mark was involved in—it’s big. Bigger than me, bigger than you. Bigger than the life of your son.”
She gasped. “How dare you!”
“I dare. Yeah, Grace, I do,” he repeated when she clenched her jaw, “because to do anything less might get your son killed. We’re not dealing with your average criminal, here. These men won’t hesitate to kill your boy. Our best hope is to find Ryker and Mark before they do.”
Her Own Best Enemy (The Remnants, Book 1) Page 4