Expired Cache

by Lisa Phillips

  Now he was dead, so there was no threat.

  Summers had been in jail when she’d come for the funeral. Since then, he’d been killed in prison.

  Now a new threat rose like a specter. The last thing she wanted was to be haunted for years to come over a new person, her abductor. A guy who had stood by the side of the road and threatened her with gestures while someone else spoke to her on the phone.

  Which meant there were two people she needed to fear.

  And one of them was here.

  She scrambled to the backpack, looking for a weapon of some kind. A gunshot rang out. Dust fell from the ceiling like a mist.

  Ellie turned to the entrance too fast. Her back muscles cramped. Her fingers were on the backpack zipper when she saw someone enter.

  “Dean.” She lifted her flashlight and shone it at his face.

  But it wasn’t him.

  It was Mark.

  “You’re the one who abducted me.” She scrambled back, then realized she was standing right over the spot the body was buried. Ellie changed directions, moving toward the wall. Still clutching the backpack in one hand. She stuck her hand in and rooted around.

  “Drop that now.” He lifted a gun and pointed it at her face.

  Ellie let go of the backpack, but her hand was inside still. She pulled out slowly. Palm out so he could see she held nothing. She didn’t want to get shot. “Why are you doing this?”

  He motioned to the body with his gun. “Get over there.”

  “What?”

  Was he going to kill her and leave her here with the dead Vietnamese boy? “Where’s Dean? Did you kill him?”

  Surely that was what the gunshot had been. Dean was dead. Surprised and killed. Now he probably lay bleeding on the ground.

  Leaving her alone. Dean. She couldn’t grieve for him. Not yet. Not until she knew he was actually dead. “Is he bleeding out? Did you shoot him?”

  Mark chuckled. He took a step toward her, every line of his body screaming threat. “All you need to know is that I’m going to kill you if you don’t get over there.”

  She hesitated, then stood. Moving slowly, Ellie tried to figure out what to do while she took small steps around to the other side of the body. She wasn’t far enough away and would for sure get hit by this guy—no matter how badly he aimed.

  Her voice quavered. “Someone will find my body.”

  “Nobody found his.” He motioned to the mound of dirt. “You think they’ll find you? Or your hotshot bodyguard out there?”

  She spotted a flash of teeth in the dim light. How could she talk him down? He already believed he could do whatever he wanted and get away with it. Help.

  Ellie didn’t know who she was talking to. But she needed aid. That was plain enough for anyone to see. Ellie had no fighting skills. Dean had plenty, and he was down. Incapacitated.

  She tried to think past the fear. Tried to figure out what she was supposed to say. All that went through her mind was the strength of his body as he pushed her against that tree and put his hands around her neck.

  She whimpered. It sounded too loud in this enclosed space.

  Help.

  “It’s buried under the body.”

  She shook her head. “What?” She had no idea what he was even talking about. But she was alive.

  “Dig. I want what’s under there.”

  “What?”

  He shifted the gun and fired a shot. The flash seemed to sear her eyes and the sound rattled the room. Ellie screamed, clapping her hands over her ears.

  “Get me what’s under there or you’re dead.”

  Ellie whimpered. Her legs gave out, and she collapsed in the dirt.

  “I said, ‘dig.’”

  Thirty-One

  Dean cracked one eye open. He could hear muffled talking but couldn’t make out the words. The tone was enough, though. A deep voice, the man who’d attacked him. The other, higher pitched.

  Ellie.

  He shifted, biting back the groan that wanted to emerge. The gunshot had sliced through his right side, just above his hip. Dean pressed a hand to his T-shirt, and it came away a bloody, damp strip. Just a graze.

  Still, he’d pretended it felled him. The guy had bought it. Now Dean had the room he hadn’t had before, fighting in close quarters with an armed man. He hadn’t been able to draw his weapon because the guy had come at him so hard and fast.

  Now he knew why. Like he now knew why the guy had gone for Ellie’s throat.

  Because either he didn’t have the stomach for killing, or he had been ordered to not murder anyone that was a part of this. Someone was already dead, buried here long ago.

  This was Mark. The gym receptionist, a kid who’d won wrestling trophies in high school and still trained at the gym in town. The man on the side of the road, the one who had nearly strangled Ellie? He needed her to confirm that.

  Back when they’d been determined to warn her off. Scare her a little. Was the doctor his partner? Was the older man somehow the cause of this? Maybe they knew each other, and maybe they didn’t. Dean figured Mark knew the doctor. But did either of them have connections to the founders?

  Dean got to his feet. Dizziness struck, and he pressed a hand to the wall. There was no time for that, though. He had to get to Ellie. As soon as he knew what all this had to do with Mark, he would secure the guy.

  A calculated gamble was still a gamble, but he counted on Mark not wanting to kill Ellie. Maybe he didn’t have the stomach for it.

  Dean trudged to the entrance that led into the room where Mark was with Ellie. And the dead body.

  The second he’d reached for his knife, Mark had fired that gun. Dean had his gun out now that there was more space. Fighting hand-to-hand with a gun in such close quarters made it too easy to get shot yourself. Not to mention, damage your hearing like Mia, the police Lieutenant, had.

  Please, let this work.

  He wasn’t content to just jump into the fight with no forethought. He needed a prayerful strategy. That was what would get him and Ellie out of this alive.

  She was crouched on the far side, next to the body, pulling dirt from the hole with her cupped hands. Ellie didn’t see him.

  Nor did Mark, who had his back turned and was focused on Ellie, thinking he’d already taken care of Dean. Now he was about to get a surprise of his own.

  “Dig faster!”

  Dean frowned. Why hurry? And what was she looking for? Ellie whimpered, continuing to swipe dirt back out of the hole.

  “There’s nothing here.”

  His heart clenched in his chest hearing her cry. More painful than the nagging sting in his side. It felt like it was dripping blood. He inched forward. Mark still didn't notice his presence.

  Dean wanted some more time to think about Ellie’s attacker and the revelation of his identity, but there was no time. He could hurt her at any second. Even though he didn’t believe that Mark had shot at him to kill. And though he’d had the opportunity to kill Ellie, he hadn’t. He seemed content to simply wave the weapon around.

  Still, Dean didn’t want her to be in danger for even one second longer than necessary. He wanted this guy neutralized. But he also wanted answers.

  Dean stepped into the room. “That’s enough, Mark.”

  He’d gone carefully, spoken softly. Made noise at the last minute, by first clearing his throat.

  Even still, Mark spun with the gun first. Dean spotted his finger, depressing the trigger. He was going to fire.

  Dean squeezed back on his trigger. Two shots, center mass, before Mark could even fire. The man wasn’t an experienced gunman. He dropped to the ground, dead before he hit it. Ellie screamed.

  “I didn’t want to do that.” Dean wasn’t sure why he’d said that aloud.

  Ellie scrambled back, pale in a way that worried him. Dean moved, ignoring the sting in his side as he crouched in front of her and took her hands. “Hey. It’s okay now.”

  She blinked at him, glassy eyes and nearly tran
slucent skin. Or so it looked in the strange light. Her hands were caked with dirt, her nails crusted with it.

  “It’s okay.” He kept talking, soft nonsense words that were supposed to reassure her. Instead, his mind wandered and he found himself saying, “He gave me no choice. I had to kill him before he killed one of us.”

  Dean tried to shift, planted one knee and hissed at the pain in his side.

  “He hurt you.”

  “I’m fine. What happened? What did he say?”

  “Nothing. There was something under the body he wanted me to dig out.” She sucked in a choppy breath but didn’t break down.

  There was more, he thought. But she said nothing else. Dean pulled over his backpack. “Whatever is under there, we don’t have to find it. I’ll call Conroy. You know, Chief Barnes who took over from your father?”

  He spoke slowly since she was in shock and probably having trouble processing. She needed gentleness. Especially considering they had two options right now. Stay here with the dead body, or hike back down the mountain to get to a spot where the police would meet them. He wasn’t sure which would be better for Ellie.

  “Here it is.” He showed her. “I’ll call with this satellite phone, but we need to do it outside.”

  She blinked at him.

  “Ellie. We should go.”

  “I found what it was.” She waved at it. A mound of material.

  Dean tugged himself over, pulling at the wound on his side. He unwrapped the bundle, flipping open what appeared to be a bloody shirt, revealing what was inside. “It’s old. A handgun. But I don’t recognize the style.” Buried for years next to the bloody material, the metal had tarnished.

  Dean looked at the body. “Could be how this person died.”

  A murder weapon. Were there prints still on it? He didn’t know the ins and outs of forensics but figured it was possible there would be physical evidence left here.

  “We should go outside.” He stood, holding out his hand for Ellie to go with him. “Before we disturb anything else.”

  She nodded and took his hand. Straightening her gaze, she glanced over his side. She gasped. “You’re bleeding!”

  “It’s not bad.” He said, even though his shoulder was on fire. “Can you get the backpack, though? There are medical supplies in there.”

  She snatched it up and then huddled close to him.

  “Ready?”

  “Let’s get out of here.”

  He was right with her, stepping around Mark’s body. Giving the dead man and the burial area a wide berth. They left the old weapon that had been wrapped up. No one needed to touch it until the police got here.

  Had whoever killed and buried this victim used that gun? They could have buried the murder weapon there with the body, assuming that no one would ever discover it, keeping their secret hidden. Like it was the perfect crime.

  Everyone involved had moved on with their lives, and no one ever found out that the very people who set up this town as a safe haven were complicit in a murder.

  And one was the killer.

  Was it her grandfather? She was in shock, but it occurred to Dean that if she was being cagey, it might be because she had figured something out and didn’t want to say.

  Dean walked with her, backtracking through the tunnels until he could see the light of day. He blinked at the harshness.

  Truth, brought out into the light.

  “We need to look at your side. You’re bleeding.”

  Dean said, “I know.” Not sarcastic. He didn’t want to get into an argument with her when he’d just saved her. She was helping him now. They were a team. “It’s not too bad. There’s nothing to worry about.”

  He had her sit with him on the grass, but that hurt.

  “Lie down.”

  “Hand me the phone.” Dean took it from her and laid back on the grass. “Keep an eye out for anyone who comes up here. I don’t want to be caught unaware.”

  She didn’t answer, though. Ellie tugged up the hem of his T-shirt, and he saw her eyes widen.

  “Easy.” He said, “Breathe, yeah?” He didn’t need her passing out.

  He could carry her down the mountain sure enough, even with the wound, but that didn’t mean it would be a pleasant experience. For either of them.

  “This isn’t fine. It’s bad.”

  “Define, ‘bad.’” Mostly he figured that was a matter of opinion. Not to mention a lifestyle difference between a Tier 1 operator and a university professor.

  “You’re bleeding.”

  Dean didn’t like the frantic tone of her voice. “Didn’t any of those books you read tell you about battlefield medicine?”

  “You want me to get a saw and cut your leg off?”

  “Not especially.” He grinned at her and saw the flash of a smile on her face. “But I’m game if you are.”

  “No.” She shook her head, amusement clear on her face. “Stop distracting me and tell me what I’m doing. You’re losing blood.”

  “Grab the gallon plastic bag. In there is a package. On the outside it says ‘QC.’ Get some gloves on, then tear it open. It’s gauze with a clotting agent on it.”

  “Okay.” She tore it open.

  “How deep is it?” The gauze was meant to be poked into a wound, but he didn’t think it was that bad.

  She frowned. “Maybe half an inch in the deepest spot.”

  He gritted his teeth. “Doesn’t sound too bad.” She could make of that whatever she wanted. “Push the gauze in as far as it’ll go. Pack the wound, and then cover it all with what’s left of the gauze.”

  “Okay.”

  He nearly passed out as her gloved fingers pressed and shifted the wound.

  “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

  “Just get it done without throwing up on me, and you’ll be my hero for life.” If he could sit up, he’d be doing this to himself, but it was occupying her right now. He said, “Now set one hand on the other and push hard. Keep the pressure and don’t move or let up until I tell you to.”

  He set a timer on his watch for three minutes.

  “Are you going to call Conroy?”

  He took a couple of breaths so he didn’t hurl, and nodded. It didn’t take long for Conroy to understand and promise he would send multiple officers. Dean drew the line at the offer of a Life Flight helicopter to take him to the hospital.

  Ellie whimpered.

  “You’re doing great.”

  She scrunched up her nose, her glasses slipping. “I don’t like this.”

  “Because you can’t investigate the history,” he guessed. “You’re too busy dealing with the here and now.” Dean reached up and slid her glasses up her nose. “A strategic retreat doesn’t make you weak. It makes you smart. You know what you can handle, and what you can’t. And yet, I’m guessing right now you’re blowing through everything you thought you could do. You faced down a gunman. You confronted gruesome. Now you’re getting your First Aid merit badge. All in a day’s work.”

  She laughed, but it also sounded like a groan. “There’s nothing funny about this. I saw a dead body.”

  Two, actually.

  “Help is on the way.” He studied her face. “Everything will be fine. Things won’t go back to normal, because now you know how strong you can be.”

  “I don’t like it.”

  “Don’t retreat on me.” He touched her arm, feeling the flex of her triceps as she pressed the gauze into his wound. Soon enough the timer would go off, and they would both be able to relax. Until then, he was going to keep her talking. “Promise me.”

  “Promise you what?”

  “That when we come out of this, you won’t retreat into the past. I need you here with me, Ellie.”

  “I am here.”

  “Good. Stay.” He realized what he’d said. The implication of it. “Stay with me.”

  Thirty-Two

  Ellie pressed the tape down over the edges of the clean gauze. Essentially, it was gauze covered with a powdery clay
to—according to the package—dry everything up, which served to cauterize the wound.

  “Help is on the way, though. Right?”

  Dean sat up and started to repack their bag, trash and everything. “They should be here in about fifteen minutes. But there’s no point in me bleeding for that long.” He touched her cheek with his thumb. “Thank you.”

  She nodded. For a second she wondered if he was going to kiss her, but he didn’t. “Don’t make me do that ever again.”

  He grinned. Then he pressed a quick kiss on her lips. “Deal.”

  Ellie sat back and tried to process everything that’d happened. A dead man—one her grandfather might have murdered. Now Mark, the receptionist guy from the gym, was dead as well.

  She removed her gloves, mostly just so she could rub her hands down her face. But they shook.

  “It’s adrenaline bleeding away.”

  “Was that guy really the one doing this?”

  “Mark?”

  When he shrugged, she said, “I’m pretty sure he was my abductor, and he might’ve been the guy with the cellphone on the highway. Plus he hurt you with the winch.” She thought back to that night. The hood over his face and the shadows. The more she tried to remember, the surer she became. “It was dark as well then, but I think it was him. I remembered the sound of his voice.”

  “We can tell Jess when she gets here.”

  Ellie groaned. “She’s going to ream me one good for putting my life on the line while she was at work.”

  “She knew you were up here.”

  “That doesn’t mean she won’t remind me that she told me so.” Ellie blew out a long breath and looked around at the trees and mountains, since Dean didn’t seem to be in a real hurry. He probably wanted to wait for Conroy.

  She would rather have started walking. Aim for the car parked at the bottom of the trail. Anything that would get her life back on track and back to normal for the first time since her grandfather died. She was ready to feel like her old self again.