by Dana Mentink
“What do you hear?”
“Nothing. That’s what worries me. No birds. No Tank. Too quiet.”
The only sound was the wind rattling the dead leaves. Even the horses seemed to be listening. Fear rippled down her spine.
Logan’s voice was intense when he spoke. “Isabel, ride back to the ranch.”
“Now? What about you?”
“I’m going to check just over that rise and then I’ll follow you.” He tied the horse to a tree and went to the saddlebag.
She gasped when he removed a gun and loaded it. “Let’s go back together.”
He shook his head, eyes still trained on the place where the path disappeared at the top of a small slope. “I need to check it out, in case Tank is down there.”
“You said Tank would find you.”
“He should have come back by now. Something’s wrong. Go back, Isabel. Quickly.”
She reluctantly mounted Echo and urged him back down the path they had taken. She didn’t want to leave Logan. Her senses screamed that he would not be safe, but she could tell from his tone, the set of his shoulders, he wasn’t going anywhere until he’d made every effort to find Tank.
She watched him run to the tree line, moving swiftly in the ribbon of shade until he’d almost reached the top.
The two sounds came almost simultaneously.
A familiar bark.
And the explosion of a gunshot.
Logan hit the ground as soon as he saw the figure emerge on the path, holding firmly to Tank’s collar. Though the dog jerked and snarled, Autie held him fast with one hand, a rifle in the other. Autie’s shot whistled past and drilled itself into the trunk of a tree. Logan gripped his M9 pistol in front of him and rolled into the bushes for cover.
“How do you do, Captain Price? We have not had the pleasure of a meeting, but I believe I’ve got your dog here.”
He didn’t take time to consider how the guy knew his Air Force rank. “Let him go, Autie,” he snapped, still under cover.
“Handsome animal. You should not leave the creature to run wild. Especially not around here. Never know what mischief he could get into.”
“Don’t hurt the dog,” Logan called. He looked around to figure out a way to get closer to Autie without being seen. He rolled farther into the brush as quietly as he could manage.
Autie laughed. “A tough soldier like you has got a soft spot for the dog? Well, I do not blame you. I once had a cat that I was most attached to until the coyotes got her. But you are in an awkward spot, are you not? Maybe you should come on out in the open and we can discuss your situation.”
“I’m not going to tell you again. Do not hurt that dog.”
Autie sighed. “Generally I would not hurt any living creature unless it was strictly necessary, but this dog has complicated my mission, you see.”
Tank let out a whine as Autie shook him. Logan gritted his teeth and decided on a plan. He tucked the pistol in his belt behind his back and belly-crawled closer to the wall of scrub that surrounded the trail on either side.
Through the screen of leaves he saw Autie look warily into the foliage. He raised the rifle and put it to Tank’s head. The dog squirmed and thrashed, but Autie held on. “Captain Price, I respect your service to this fine country and I appreciate your love of dogs. I have no disagreement with you, per se, but I have a mission to complete and you and your dog are hampering my efforts.”
Logan willed his breathing to stay steady. Autie was a survivalist and no doubt a crack shot. Logan would have time to squeeze off one round at most. No second chances. He continued to move another few feet toward a place where the ground rose slightly. A few feet below was the wide girth of a fallen tree. Easing his knees under him he mentally calculated the distance between his current location and the downed trunk that would provide cover.
A branch snapped under his knee. Autie fired into the scrub where Logan was hunkered down. The shot deafened him as it cut through the vegetation. He felt the whirr of hot metal as it winged by his head.
Autie’s eyes narrowed. “Now then, Captain. I do hope you are not considering something that would put yourself at risk. Or the lovely Isabel. I am sure she is around here somewhere, is she not?”
He gritted his teeth, glad he’d sent her away.
Autie’s head swiveled. “Ah. She must have ridden back. Keep the women and children safe? No matter. It will be an easy thing to catch up with her. And I will.”
Logan flattened himself as much as he could, easing the pistol out from his belt, inch by painstaking inch.
“Nothing to say then? I am sorry you are not being cooperative, Captain. It is going to make it easier for me to kill you, after I dispatch your dog.”
Logan was coiled to leap when a sharp crack made Autie turn, the sound of a twig snapping under the weight of a human foot. A rock sailed out of the foliage and grazed Autie’s hat as it flew over. It was enough to make him loosen his grip on the dog. Tank tore out of his grasp and turned on the man, teeth bared and barking. Autie aimed the rifle again but before he could kill the dog, Logan leaped out of hiding, fired off a shot and tumbled behind the fallen log.
He looked out. Autie held his arm, blood trickling through the fingers, before he turned and ran into the brush. Tank started after him, but Logan called him off. Autie ran into the trees and vanished over the ridgeline.
The dog changed direction, hurtled behind the log and slobbered on Logan’s face. He heaved a sigh of relief that Tank hadn’t taken a round in the fracas. “Get off me, you crazy mutt. Why’d you let yourself get caught? What kind of dog are you?”
Isabel’s voice startled them both. “I don’t think he’s much of a soldier.”
Logan pulled her down next to him. “Didn’t I tell you to get out of here?”
She raised an eyebrow. “I thought you knew I’m not the greatest at doing what I’m ordered to.”
“Dumb thing to do, Isabel.”
“I knew you would say that.” She tried to look him over. “Are you hurt? Did he hit you anywhere?”
“No. I’ve been in tighter spots than that before.” His emotions reached the flash point and he rounded on her. “What were you thinking? Autie could have killed you. Or I could have shot you.” Friendly fire, a soldier’s worst nightmare. A chill cut across his spine in spite of the heat.
“I didn’t want him to hurt Tank. Or you.”
“It was reckless and it could have gotten us all killed.”
She looked at her lap and didn’t answer.
A tremor in her lip took the rage right out of him. He put a hand around her shoulders and pulled her roughly to his side, continuing in a gentler tone. “Keep close until we make sure he isn’t returning. You can do that much, can’t you?”
She huddled into a ball in the circle of his arm and he felt her tremble.
“I didn’t know where you were. I just saw Autie was about to shoot Tank so I threw a rock at him.” She blinked hard.
Logan shook his head and sighed. “Nice shot.”
“Not really, I was aiming for his stomach.”
He would have laughed if the situation hadn’t been so serious. He didn’t allow himself to consider further what the alternative could have been. She was safe, that was the only acceptable result. He kept her close, her face hidden by a wave of hair that had escaped the braid. She sniffled and his remaining anger drained away.
With one finger, he pulled the fringe back. “I’m sorry I yelled. I’m used to giving orders and having them followed.”
She shrugged and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “Your dog doesn’t seem to obey very well.”
He grinned. “You got me there.” He caressed her shoulder until her head relaxed against his chest. “Anyway, I’m sorry.”
“You’re forgiven.”
No sound came from the woods but the click of an insect in the tree above them. He let the silence build for another five minutes. “I’m going to look around, see if he left anything behin
d. You don’t want to hang out here and stay put, I suppose?”
She gave him a luscious smile that made him tingle. “No. I’m staying with you and Tank.”
The dog gave her a sloppy lick to the cheek, which caused her to giggle.
“See if you can keep him out of trouble.”
She mock saluted. “Yes, sir.”
They kept low and headed down the path as it dropped away from the lake.
“Autie must have a camp set up somewhere. There should be the remnants of a fire. Some indication that he’s been living out here. Must be subtle for the cops to have missed it. I see no vehicle tracks, so he’s been getting around on foot.”
They topped the rise and headed down into a wide hollow, crammed with trees and sprawling vegetation. Logan did a slow circle, hand shading his eyes from the harsh sun. A creek that fed into the lake meandered under the dense shrubbery.
Logan followed the path of the river until it disappeared into a steep ravine. “He’s gonna need water, sooner or later. He’ll want shelter from the wind and adequate visibility.” He grabbed hold of a low pine branch and began to climb. Scrambling upward through layers of needles and avoiding the sap as best he could, he made his way up the tree until he had a view of the tangled forest below.
Isabel sat with Tank to keep him from whining and jumping at the tree trunk. Logan stared at the ground below. Nothing to see. No tent or backpack, no telltale sign of broken branches. He grunted in frustration and started to climb down when something caught his eye. It wasn’t a flash of color or the glint of metal. There was a shape where it shouldn’t have been, a straight line that didn’t belong in the natural world.
He shimmied down as quickly as he dared and hustled into the brush.
Isabel followed. “What did you see?”
“I thought…” He looked again at the dark green and browns that would have concealed the thing completely, if the too-perfect outline hadn’t given it away. Thrusting his arms into the brush, he shoved away the branches that had been cut to overlap the structure.
Isabel gasped. “I could have been standing right by it and I wouldn’t have noticed.”
“It’s a hunting blind.” The soft-sided rectangle was covered with canvas panels, sponged in the same colors as the surroundings. The walls were a good seven feet high, but so cleverly tucked into the scenery they might as well have been invisible.
The four small windows were precise cutouts in the walls, with no glass to catch the sunlight. They could be covered over with canvas flaps in an instant. “Autie is good,” he muttered. “I’ll give him that. These blinds go for upward of a thousand dollars, but he designed this one himself. It’s better than anything I’ve ever seen.”
A bird screamed out of the tree line, squawking.
His instincts filled him in before his brain could think it through.
They were not alone anymore.
Logan removed his weapon and pulled Isabel behind him.
She stumbled and fell against him, but he managed to keep her upright.
“What?” she breathed in his ear.
It was too late to take cover. Too late to retreat.
He eyed the trees grimly. Time to make a stand.
“Visitors.”
TWELVE
Isabel thought it felt like an eternity, standing there in the stifling woods, listening to the sound of someone approaching. Her fingers gripped the back of Logan’s shirt, and she could feel the tension radiating from his muscled back.
The sun burned down, bathing her in sweat, but she dared not raise a hand to wipe the salty trickle from her eyes.
A shout rang through the woods. “Police.” Bentley and another officer pushed through the tree line, guns at the ready. “You guys okay? We heard shots.”
She felt Logan exhale and he allowed Isabel to ease out from behind him. He stowed his pistol. “Autie took a few shots. I winged him in the shoulder. He headed east.” Logan pointed to Autie’s escape route.
The officer accompanying Bentley unclipped a radio and stepped away to talk.
Bentley came closer to examine the blind. “Nice setup. We totally missed it in the initial search.”
Bentley’s uniform was disheveled, his shirt showing dark sweat stains.
“Has anything come to light in my sister’s case?” Isabel asked him.
He shook his head. “Coroner hasn’t reported to me yet. Still looking over the files. We found nothing in our search for Autie so far. I’m going to take a look in here and see if he’s left anything helpful.”
He unzipped a flap that had been so cleverly constructed, Isabel hadn’t known it was there. Bentley stepped inside and gestured for both Logan and Isabel to remain where they were. They contented themselves by looking into the small space, which contained a canvas blanket and a rucksack neatly stacked in the corner. A Coleman lantern and a tattered copy of Custer’s Last Stand were the only other items.
Bentley used a pen to upend the rucksack, dumping a canteen, an apple and some silver pouches on the floor.
“MREs. Meals ready to eat,” Logan said in her ear. She wondered why he looked so worried when it seemed as though they had finally gotten a break. Autie slipped up. He’d left himself exposed. Now he was the one on the run and scared. She couldn’t suppress a surge of satisfaction.
A cell phone fell from the pack and clattered to the floor. Bentley took a pair of latex gloves from a pouch on his belt and slipped them on before examining the tiny screen.
“We’ll have the tech guy analyze the call history.” He squinted. “Looks like our Autie is a real texting nut. He’s got three right here from the same person.” Bentley frowned.
Isabel leaned forward. They might finally know who was behind Autie’s campaign to terrorize her. “Who?”
He studied the screen and then raised his head. “Why don’t you tell me, Ms. Ling?”
Isabel gaped. “How would I know who has been texting him?”
Bentley’s jaw tightened. “Because the three that I’m looking at appear to have come from you.”
Isabel felt the ground shift under her feet. She tried to summon up something to say, but all she could do was stare at him.
Logan stepped in. “What makes you think the texts are from Isabel?”
Bentley did not offer the phone to him. He consulted the screen again. “Landing. Be there with balance Wednesday. Wasn’t that the day you arrived in South Dakota?”
She could only nod.
“The balance of what?” Logan said, his expression dark.
Bentley removed the last item from the pack on the floor. It was an envelope stuffed with hundred-dollar bills. “Then there’s another text. Deal is complete. Lose my number. I’ll do the same. Isabel.” Bentley tapped the envelope. “What deal is that, I wonder?”
“Bentley, you know this isn’t what it looks like. This is too easy. Autie wanted me to find this place. That’s why he grabbed Tank. It was a setup.”
The officer ignored Logan and stared at her.
She forced out the words. “I don’t know how, or why, but I’ve never had anything to do with Autie and I certainly never sent him a text message or money.” The insanity of it roiled inside her until she had to bite her lip to keep from bursting into crazed laughter. “He killed my sister. That’s the truth. He killed Cassie.”
“On that, we agree.” Bentley nodded slowly. “The question is, did you hire him to do it?”
Bentley sent his partner to escort them back to the ranch before returning to assist at the blind. Isabel followed Logan on Echo, trying to mull it over, flip the facts around to make sense of them. She’d gotten nowhere when they arrived back at the house. Logan took the horses to tend to them, and Isabel went into the house to sit down.
Instead, she wandered in little circles in the room where Autie had shown up with his gun, in the place where her sister had birthed her dreams for the future, the spot where Isabel now lived as if it was her own.
Hired A
utie? The thought was absurd. Anyone could see that. She loved her sister.
Loved her.
But hadn’t even exchanged so much as a phone call until four months prior.
She stared wildly around. What motive could she have for killing her sister?
The idea materialized in her mind like a Polaroid film coming into focus. She had nothing, hardly a dollar to her name. Her sister owned a nice chunk of property in a spot being sought after by developers. There were texts supposedly from her to a killer, implying money had changed hands. She could see where the facts took Bentley. She’d paid Autie to kill Cassie so she could inherit the property. There had never been any witnesses to Autie’s threats against her. She could have easily made them all up.
Her head began to whirl and she pressed her hands to her mouth to keep from screaming. Bentley thought she’d had her sister killed. Did Logan? Could he believe it?
He hardly knew her. She was estranged from Cassie. She hadn’t set foot in South Dakota until her sister was dead. Of course he could believe it. It cut her like a knife. She could not stand the thought of looking into the clear green eyes of the man who’d saved her mother and seeing ugly suspicion there. Something snapped inside her and she was a scared sixteen-year-old again.
She ran, flinging open the door and tearing down the driveway, feet pounding on the dry gravel, a frenzy building inside with each crazed step.
Logan looked up from closing the corral gate and called to her, but she could not stop.
Blindly she flew into the trees, pushing the branches away that slapped and clawed at her hair. She had to escape. A sharp twig cut her face as she slammed by. A root caught her foot and she fell, scrambling immediately to her feet and careening on.
“Stop, Isabel.” Her brain registered Logan’s pursuit, but it did not penetrate.
Run, run, run. Blood trickled from the cut on her face into her mouth and the metal tang burned her mouth. She pictured her sister’s blood, spilled out on the floor of the shed with no one to notice, no one to ease the pain.