by C. J. Miller
Autumn touched the side of his face. The show of affection was enough to communicate her appreciation. “I’m sorry to hear that about your sister.”
Nathan didn’t like to dwell on it. But part of his guilt in looking for the Huntsman was to bring closure to that guilt and justice to his sister, who had suffered too much over the past ten years as she struggled with her addiction. “I’m telling you because I want you to think about how you would feel if your mother left and you didn’t hear from her again.”
“I will think about it. But I can’t deal with my mom’s drama now, too.”
“Fair enough. But you know I will back you up. We’re partners for the time being, and that means something to me.”
Autumn nodded once swiftly. “I understand.”
“Do you?” he asked. Had she ever had someone be a through-thick-and-thin partner? How could he show her how serious he was? She could count on him.
Nathan wrapped one hand around the back of her head and drew her closer. His mouth claimed hers, demanding she kiss him in return. Her jaw loosened, allowing his tongue to sweep inside her mouth. The taste of her exploded in his mind. Cinnamon and coffee. A small moan escaped from the back of her throat and Nathan fought the urge to deepen the kiss. Tilt back his seat. Pull her astride him.
His lips played with hers until she was sinking against him across the center console. He knew ten more seconds and his sense of decency would be gone. He drew away and took a deep breath.
“What was that for?” Autumn asked, sounding almost breathless.
Nathan had plenty of reasons, most centering on wanting her. Wanting to prove to her they had something real and strong. “Do I need a reason?”
“I’d like to know what brought this on,” Autumn said.
Her trust issues were showing themselves plain. “You can count on me. That’s all.”
“For the time being, until another victim shows up down the trail,” Autumn said.
He didn’t have a response for that. He felt they were getting closer to finding the Huntsman, but if they missed their opportunity in Smithsburg, he wouldn’t give up on finding his sister’s killer. He couldn’t. His family was counting on him.
He cupped her face and ran his thumb across her reddened lips. “We’ll find him. We’re closing in. Let’s talk to Natalie and work our magic.”
* * *
When Autumn strode to the door, Natalie perked up at her reception desk, setting down the pen she had been flicking against a stack of manila folders. She smiled at Autumn, but her eyes lit when she saw Nathan.
He had that effect on women, and it bothered Autumn more than a little. He wasn’t hers. She had no claim on him. She wasn’t sure any woman could make a claim to him. But knowing that Natalie, one of the biggest flirts in town, would be all over Nathan got under her skin.
Autumn introduced Natalie and Nathan.
Natalie stood and circled the desk. She extended her hand and clasped Nathan’s in her French-tipped, manicured hands.
“What a pleasure to meet you. I can guess why you’re here, and I have to tell you that I can’t release any data about that poor woman, even if she was found at your place,” Natalie said.
Nathan didn’t appear the least bit fazed. “We know you have to protect the victim’s privacy. Autumn was worried that Sandra suffered and I thought you could reassure her.”
“How did you know the victim’s name? That wasn’t made public yet,” Natalie said, regarding them warily.
“We’re working the case and Roger Ford let us know they’d identified the victim.” Nathan leaned on the desk, putting Natalie closer to him. Autumn almost slapped her when Natalie reached to her blouse and undid another button at the top.
“You’re working the case with the FBI? You’re an FBI agent?” Natalie asked.
Autumn rolled her eyes at her friend’s blatant eye batting and starstruck expression. They lived in a small town and didn’t have many federal agents around, but this was ridiculous.
“I’m a special agent with the FBI,” Nathan said.
“Oh, well, let me see here. I don’t know how to tell if she suffered...” Natalie said, returning to her chair and looking through the stacks of papers in front of her.
Nathan waited and when Natalie held up a paper, he smiled at her. Natalie almost melted on the desktop. “Do you think I could take a look at it? I can interpret the medical jargon.”
Natalie waved the paper at him. “Sure, take it, take it.”
“Thanks, Natalie. I owe you a drink,” he said.
“Anytime,” she said. “I’m free this weekend.”
“I’m tied up with the case, but I’ll let you know.”
With a final exchange of pleasantries, Nathan strode out the door. Autumn followed after him.
“Do women always fall at your feet?” she asked.
“She didn’t fall at my feet. She wanted to help,” Nathan said.
“I’m surprised she just handed it over,” Autumn said.
“People have a thing for titles. They’re taught to listen to and obey authorities. This case has rattled the whole town. Everyone wants the killer caught and everyone wants to help catch him.”
They climbed into their truck and Nathan started the engine. “Read the report. Out loud. Please.”
Autumn did, disappointed Natalie had given them the two-page summary sheet. It was labeled sheets one and two of fifty. They were missing good information.
Once she started reading, she was grateful for having less to read. Sandra had been killed and then hung from a tree using vines as rope. The cause of death was the arrows in her chest. “Do you think she died quickly?” Autumn asked. The report did not mention it.
“Sounds like it,” Nathan said.
It was hard to tell if he was saying it to make her feel better. Autumn wouldn’t question it. She’d had enough trouble with what she’d seen when she found Sandra and didn’t need to add terrible thoughts to it.
“What do you think?” Autumn asked, skimming the pages again. “If Sandra was already dead, why did he hang her in the tree? What purpose does it serve?”
Nathan turned off the main road and onto the path leading to the Trail’s Edge. “The killer has a reason and we need to get in his head so we get a lead on finding him. He’s in tune with his surroundings and he has some special relationship with the Appalachian Trail or nature, someone who has spent considerable time outdoors.”
The killer didn’t have the same respect she and her brother had been taught. Nature included humans. “What about the vines? Why the wrappings around the victim’s body?”
“It’s his signature. It has some significance to him.” He sounded contemplative and she imagined him working over a number of theories in his mind.
The first flakes of a snowstorm traveled to the ground. A little snow could turn into a huge storm quickly. “First snow of the season.”
After several moments, he replied, “Think it will last long?”
She looked at the sky, where the dark clouds were moving closer. “The storm could pass without leaving much snow or it could dump a foot of snow in a few hours.” Autumn had seen both and preferred the former.
Twenty minutes later, Nathan parked in front of Autumn’s cabin. Autumn opened the front door to the cabin and Thor bounded down the hallway and immediately went to his food bowl.
Nathan sat in the living room with the papers from Natalie. Autumn was putting Thor’s food bag back into the pantry when Thor lifted his head and growled. A moment later, a knock sounded on the door. Autumn jumped.
“Are you expecting anyone?” Nathan asked, rising to his feet.
Autumn shook her head. Maybe her mother had returned to try again to talk to her.
“I’ll get it.” He strode t
o the door, gun in his hand.
Autumn’s heartbeat quickened. The Huntsman wouldn’t knock. His style was much stealthier. If it was one of the investigators, why wouldn’t they call first?
She heard male voices and then the closing of the door. Nathan returned. “Hikers from the trail looking for a warm place to sleep before the weather hits.”
It didn’t sound right. Where had the hikers come from? With news of the Huntsman splashed on every news media outlet in the area for months, who ignored the warnings? The answer popped into her head—people like her brother who thought they were invincible. “Are you sure? I haven’t had hikers from the trail in weeks.” If Nathan’s instincts said they were fine, Autumn would let them stay in one of her cabins. She wouldn’t want her brother turned away from shelter over someone’s paranoia. Trail hospitality dictated she welcome hikers in need.
Nathan shrugged. “They want to rent a cabin. They’re seventeen years old and have state IDs and IDs from the local high school. It’s your call if you want to allow them to stay.”
They needed a place and she had a dozen empty cabins. Autumn hurried to the door to welcome her first guests in weeks. She ignored the twinge in her knee and made a note to put some ice on it later.
She led the hikers to one of the cabins she had available and took pride in the way the teenagers cheered inside the cabin, looking forward to the prospect of a hot shower and warm beds. Even the most rugged hikers could appreciate modern conveniences when it was twenty degrees with the windchill. These hikers were young and couldn’t have had much experience on the trail.
Nathan stayed at her side, setting his hand on her lower back, perhaps a subtle message to the young men that they were a couple so they wouldn’t think to bother her. She ignored his hand as much as she could and focused on settling her guests.
She reacted too easily to Nathan’s touch. A quick brush of his fingertips and her body urged her to lean closer, to press against him and encourage his arms to band around her and hold her. It wasn’t like her to lose her head this way or become internally giddy over a man’s casual touch.
She explained to the hikers how to use the fireplace and the heater and left them to wait out the weather. The snow fell heavier through the trees, matting the ground and covering the brown beneath its icy coating. “Maybe I should get another couple of cabins ready so if we have more visitors, I won’t have to run around in the dark.” If hikers were on the trail nearby and the snow got too heavy, all except the most dedicated outdoors enthusiasts would need shelter.
“Sounds good. I’ll give you a hand,” Nathan said.
Autumn grabbed a few bags of supplies she liked to stock in the occupied cabins—packets of oatmeal, granola bars and cans of chili—and headed to cabin twelve. If no one else came that night, she’d retrieve the items in the morning. But if they did, they’d be grateful for the supplies and she’d be grateful to not have to haul them in the snow.
She unlocked the door to the cabin and reached inside, flipping on the light. The cabin was a chilly forty-five degrees, much warmer than outside but not warm enough to chase out the bitter cold that seemed to linger on her skin. There were footprints leading inside, muddy tracks, and irritation with Blaine for leaving a mess flashed through her, followed by the dawning of a terrifying realization.
Blaine hadn’t been here in months and she’d cleaned and closed this cabin for the season a few weeks ago. Her bag dropped to the ground, the food spilling across the floor. “Someone was here. Is here.” Fear and panic gripped at her throat and her legs tensed, anticipating the need to run.
“How do you know?” Nathan asked, pulling her out of the cabin and onto the porch and setting himself around her as if to barricade her from a threat.
“Muddy prints on the floor.”
Nathan withdrew his gun. “Wait here.”
Autumn peered around the corner, watching him. He stalked through the room, turning on lights, checking every possible hiding place. “It’s empty. No one is here.”
Autumn swallowed hard. “Sometimes hikers come off the trail and break in.” The tremor in her voice shook her words. It wasn’t the first time a visitor didn’t pay and, in the spirit of the trail, she chalked it up to someone who was desperate and cold. But this felt different. An uneasy sensation rolled down her spine.
Her gaze returned to the muddy boot prints, dark mud and red...like blood. She clamped her hand over her mouth to muffle the scream that rose in her throat.
Nathan whirled to face her and followed her pointed finger to the floor. His gaze canvassed the room.
“He was here,” she whispered. “The Huntsman.”
“Could have been an injured hiker,” Nathan said. “I’m calling Ford. He and the team need to see this.”
Autumn wanted to look for herself. She wanted to see if the killer had used the bathroom. Slept on the bed. Lit a fire in the hearth. The violation of her privacy and her sense of security was complete. Her home wasn’t safe. A Trail’s Edge cabin had been used by a killer.
Chapter 5
The killer had been closer than he had known.
Had the killer taken shelter in the cabin after he’d killed Sandra Corvaldi on the trail? Was the substance on the ground wet mud or blood? If the blood was human, it might provide a lead, a possible DNA match if the killer was already in the system.
The FBI hadn’t checked the cabins the night Autumn had found the body and Nathan cursed his oversight. He should have searched everywhere in the area.
Nathan called Ford and left him a message. He composed his next steps. He needed a cotton swab and a sterile bag to collect a sample. He’d send it to an independent lab and—
His thoughts cut off abruptly when his eyes fell on Autumn’s face. She was deathly pale, and had her arms wrapped around her midsection as if trying to hold herself together. In two long strides he was next to her, gathering her in his arms and holding her against his body. He stroked her hair. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”
She trembled in his arms and burrowed closer. “I don’t feel safe. He was inside one of my cabins.” The words came as a whisper. She’d been maintaining an amazing level of calm since finding the body and he hadn’t stopped to consider how this would make her feel, how this could overwhelm her. Each incident weighed more and more on her until she would eventually break down. He’d seen it happen to every agent he’d ever worked with.
Nathan sat her on the couch. He started a fire and cranked the pellet stove, but she continued to shiver.
“I’ll make you a cup of hot tea.” He pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped it around her shoulders, tucking the ends underneath her thighs. Thor trotted over and lay across her feet.
In the kitchen, Nathan turned on the burner beneath a kettle of water and waited impatiently for it to whistle. While he watched the pot, his mind churned over the latest developments.
Keeping Autumn under watch and safe was a higher priority now. The killer hadn’t been sloppy at any other scene and left evidence of his presence. If the boot prints in cabin twelve belonged to the Huntsman, they had been left deliberately. Just as with stringing the victim on her property for her to find, the killer wanted Autumn to know he was close.
But why? What connection did Autumn have to the killer?
Nathan felt like a traitor for thinking again of her brother. Though Autumn seemed convinced Blaine had nothing to do with the murders, the more they found, the more the evidence pointed to Blaine.
Nathan struggled to think of who else could be a suspect. Someone with a relationship to the Trail’s Edge, perhaps someone Autumn knew through her work on the trail? A guest who had stayed at the campground?
Nathan’s protective instinct flared. He wouldn’t let the killer get close to her. Whatever games the Huntsman had planned to toy with her, Nat
han owed it to Colleen to prevent the killer from taking another victim.
The kettle whistled and Nathan turned off the burner. The killer fixating on Autumn and the Trail’s Edge was a dangerous matter. Nathan poured the hot water into a mug with a teabag he found in a box in the cabinet. Decaf. She didn’t need anything else keeping her awake tonight.
The killer had been this close, left his mark and hadn’t approached Autumn that she knew about. Had he talked to her in a seemingly innocent manner, perhaps even in a public place? Nathan had once worked a case where a serial killer had approached each of his victims in random ways, talked with them briefly and marked them for death.
Was the Huntsman waiting for a chance to get her alone? The thought strengthened Nathan’s resolve tenfold. The Huntsman wouldn’t have a chance to strike at her. Nathan would stay at her side around the clock until the Huntsman was in custody.
Her phone rang and Nathan grabbed it before it sounded a second time. Autumn was watching him with wide eyes filled with fear.
He answered the call and Roger Ford’s voice came on the line. “I’m surprised you called.”
Nathan wasn’t playing power games with Ford. While he had no intention of backing away from the case, he wasn’t planning to shut out Ford, either. They didn’t see eye to eye on anything, but Nathan would still offer him professional respect and courtesy. “We’ve had a development in the case I thought you should know about.”
Ford harrumphed as if he didn’t believe Nathan’s motives would be that honest. “We have problems here.” Based on the background noises, he was in the middle of chaos. “One of the cars wrecked, blocking the road and we can’t get up the terrain. It’s a whiteout down here.”
Nathan moved the kitchen curtain and peered outside. With the blockade of the treetops holding back some of the snow, he could make out the forest, but barely. “Everyone okay?”
“Minor injuries. Our truck skidded into a ditch. We’ll be there as soon as we can. Maybe in two, three days. Try not to compromise the scene.”