Colton and the Single Mom

by Jane Godman

  The guy was big and heavy, and Esmée used her smaller size to her advantage. He might be the one with the gun, but she was faster and more agile. Not daring to take a look over her shoulder, she ducked low and swerved in and out of the trees, hoping he wouldn’t be able to get a shot at a moving target.

  She heard the crash of wood breaking and the sound of a large body falling. The curses became louder and angrier. Risking a look behind her, she saw her pursuer had stumbled over a tree root. He was clutching his ankle as he struggled to get up.

  She couldn’t assume he was incapacitated. He still had a gun...and her baby was still missing. Slowing her pace just enough to pull her cell phone from the pocket of her jeans, Esmée breathed a sigh of relief to see she had a full signal. With fingers that were almost steady, she called 911.

  * * *

  Brayden pulled into the parking lot of the Pour House. Like its owner, the bar was at its best during the hours of darkness. Daylight wasn’t kind to the uneven porch and wooden boards that were in dire need of a coat of varnish. The wagon wheels decorating the upper floor were almost rusted away and the advertising posters plastered one on top of the other along the front facade were faded and unreadable.

  Occasionally, travelers passing through would stumble across the Pour House and comment on its authentic charm. Rusty, fired up with dreams of fame and fortune, was forever predicting a new dawn. So far, it had never happened and he continued to scrape out a living from his regular customers.

  It looked like Brayden had overestimated Rusty’s ability to get himself out of bed by noon. The bar was definitely closed and the drapes in Rusty’s apartment were drawn tight across the grimy windows. He knew from experience nothing short of a brass band marching through his room would wake his father, who slept like the dead. He was weighing his options when an SAR call came through.

  “It was hard to catch the details because the caller was keeping her voice low,” Frank Lanelli explained. “Said she was hiding from a shooter.”

  “A hunter?”

  “Not the way she told it. The guy fired at her and she took off through the trees.”

  Not a regular search-and-rescue case. “Location?”

  “The way she described it, she’s in the trees on the ridge below Eagle’s Nest.”

  Brayden went into organizational mode, listening to Frank at the same time that his mind processed the details and formulated a plan. He backed out of the parking lot, his route already plotted.

  “The missing person is her two-year-old son, Rhys da Costa. Approximate height, three feet, weight about thirty pounds. Dark curly hair and dark brown eyes. Wearing a brightly colored T-shirt with a dinosaur pattern, blue jeans, white sneakers.”

  Da Costa? Brayden tried to ignore the extra beat his heart had developed. He concentrated on pushing the personal feelings aside and keeping it professional. Even so, he spared a thought for the agony Esmée must have been feeling as she gave Frank that description. Her eye for detail shone through.

  His own training kicked in. So many hazards to take into account. Put a two-year-old in any unknown outdoor situation and there would be danger. In this case there was a cliff top, a complex cave system and...a shooter? Frank had said Esmée was hiding from a gunman as she made the call. That meant she was also in danger. A guy whose first instinct when he encountered a woman on her own in the woods was to fire at her didn’t sound like a rational, law-abiding citizen.

  “We could be looking at a hostage situation here,” he said, explaining his thinking to Frank. “Mom, kid or possibly both.” That was, if he hadn’t killed them by the time Brayden got there. It was an image he didn’t want inside his head.

  “You want me to mobilize a team of K-9 officers?” Frank asked.

  Brayden weighed it up. He didn’t know what he was dealing with. This wasn’t like a guy with a gun who was confined within a building. It wasn’t even the same as closing down a few streets to limit the movements of a rogue gunman. Both those scenarios were familiar procedures to the PD. But the area Frank had described was covered in dense woodland. Although the main cave system was lower down, there was another, more dangerous cave close to the place from where Esmée had called. The unknown shooter had a choice of hiding places. If he did grab Esmée or Rhys and the police turned up in numbers, things could get messy.

  Brayden and Echo knew that terrain. They could cover the ground fast and do it stealthily. On the other hand, once he got out there and did an initial assessment, he might find he needed backup. Esmée had told Frank she had seen one gunman. That didn’t mean he was alone. If there were others...

  “Put them on standby. Esmée da Costa is staying at the Red Ridge Bed-and-Breakfast.” He didn’t enlighten Frank about how he knew so much about Rhys’s mother. “I’m guessing she started her hike from there. I can get to her faster if I approach from the opposite direction. Have a team of six officers assemble at the Eagle’s Nest rest stop. My vehicle will already be there. Tell them to wait by my car until they hear from me.”

  No matter how fast he drove, Esmée and Rhys were still up on that ridge in a dangerous situation. If she was hiding, he couldn’t risk calling her and alerting the shooter to her location. “Send Esmée a text message. Tell her to keep her cell on silent. Give her my number and tell her I’m on my way.”

  He ended the call, knowing he could rely on Frank to follow his instructions.

  Because the Eagle’s Nest area had become increasingly popular in recent years with hikers and cavers, the town council had built a rest stop a few years ago. Located on the main highway between Red Ridge and Spearfish, it was at a point where the road dipped close to the beauty spot. On foot, it would have taken Esmée close to two hours to reach the ridge from the town. Longer with a two-year-old for company. Brayden pulled in at the rest stop twenty minutes after Frank had called him.

  It was twenty minutes during which anything could have happened on the ridge below him. He opened the back of his vehicle and took out his backpack, which contained essential safety equipment. As Echo jumped out, he checked his cell.

  Please hurry

  The unknown number from which the message had been sent must be Esmée’s. He sent a reply.

  Describe your location

  In a situation like this, Echo’s scent-specific skills couldn’t be used. Brayden didn’t have anything belonging to either Esmée or Rhys to give the dog to guide him. Instead, he would have to send Echo on an air-scenting search. This was a harder skill for a dog to learn, one that was taught after the animal had become proficient in trailing. Echo would probe the whole area, seeking human scent particles. He wouldn’t be detecting a precise scent. The dog would lead Brayden to any person he found.

  It was a useful tactic because Esmée and Rhys had been separated, but it was also a dangerous one. There was a guy down on that ridge with a gun. He could be the first person Echo encountered and Brayden didn’t want his partner face-to-face with a potentially volatile shooter.

  His decision as to which direction to send Echo in once he reached the ridge was crucial and it depended on how much information Esmée could give him. Her reply came as he started his descent.

  Two large rocks. Shaped like angel wings. Near cave entrance

  “Perfect.” From that description, Brayden knew exactly where she was. The Angel Cave, named for the distinctive rocks at its entrance, was located above the main cave system that was so with popular tourists. Although the limestone cavern was spectacularly beautiful, it was also deadly, with deep sinkholes and convoluted tunnels.

  Stay there

  The path down from the rest stop to the ridge was steep, but he and Echo knew it well. In the summer months, they came out this way several times a week. Even in the winter, the Coyote Mountains were popular with hardier visitors.

  Brayden paused at a point where he knew he would have a view of the ston
es Esmée had described. Trying to see anything through the canopy of the trees would be impossible, but Esmée had described a location close to the rock face. The stones were known as the Weeping Angel rocks and were said to guard the entrance to the caves. From his vantage point, he might just be able to catch a glimpse of her. Even, possibly, catch sight of Rhys.

  He saw her straightaway. Esmée was standing to one side of the Weeping Angel rocks. Even from an angle high above her, Brayden could see she was ducking down as though searching for something in the undergrowth. Rhys. Of course she would never stop looking for her son.

  What Brayden saw next chilled his blood. Although he was still some distance away, a man was moving slowly toward Esmée. He was dragging his left leg as though injured. He held a gun in his right hand and his arm was already extended in front of him.

  Esmée had her back to the guy, oblivious to his approach. Brayden was too far away to fire off a shot of his own and he couldn’t call out a warning. If he did, he risked startling the shooter into breaking into a run and grabbing Esmée or shooting when he got within range. The only thing he could do was get down there as fast as he could. He couldn’t even spare the time to send her a message.

  The rest of his descent was a half run, half slither. He hit level ground at speed, hurtling in the direction he had seen Esmée. Echo kept pace with him as he reached her just as the gunman got within firing range. Esmée gave a little cry of surprise as Brayden sprinted past her. Keeping his head down below the shooter’s extended arm, he wrapped his arms as far as he could around the guy’s waist and slammed him to the ground. As they fell, he registered his opponent’s size. He was built like a tank.

  The gunman’s bellow of fury rose to the treetops. Because of the guy’s size, Brayden had to keep the momentum of the surprise attack going. Conscious the whole time of the gun, he pinned his opponent down and punched him hard on the nose. Bone crunched beneath his fist and the shooter made a gurgling noise as blood welled.

  Brayden grabbed the attacker’s wrist, bashing it hard against the rocky surface until he released the gun. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Esmée dart forward and grab it. With a burst of strength, the gunman broke free of Brayden, staggering to his feet. Spraying blood from his broken nose, he swung a punch at Brayden. Although he saw it coming and dodged before it could hit him full in the face, the guy’s sledgehammer fist caught Brayden on the side of the head.

  Stars danced across his vision and pain bloomed inside his skull. He dropped to his knees, fighting the blackness that threatened to engulf him. A muscular arm tightened around his throat and he clawed wildly at it.

  “Let him go or I’ll shoot.” Esmée’s voice seemed to come to him from a long way off.

  Without warning, Brayden was free, thrown facedown onto the ground. Spluttering, he struggled to his feet in time to see the shooter running away through the trees. He moved with surprising speed for someone so big and who was impaired by a limp.

  “What the...?” Brayden shook his head in an attempt to clear it. When he managed to turn his head to one side, he saw Esmée with her arms outstretched and the gun gripped in both hands. Her lower lip was held tight between her teeth and her face was white as a sheet. He moved carefully toward her. “Shall I take that?”

  She handed it over as though it was burning her fingers. “I’ve never shot anyone...but he didn’t know that.” Her attempt at a smile went horribly wrong and the tears began to flow. Her next words confirmed that she had been powered by pure adrenaline. “Can we please find my baby now?”

  Chapter 5

  Brayden was strong and confident, and Esmée wanted to believe in him so much it hurt. But the fear lodged in her chest was a physical pain, and it was growing by the second. Nothing had ever felt this bad. It was like she was stuck in a nightmare, and no matter what she did, she couldn’t wake up from it.

  “Echo will find Rhys, but I need you to stay calm and help me. You are the person who knows Rhys best and any information you can give me, no matter how insignificant it may seem, could be important.”

  She focused on Brayden’s voice, would use it to keep herself from curling into a ball on the leaf-strewn ground. His presence was soothing, but she wanted him to get moving, to do something. Rhys had been gone for over half an hour...

  “Echo works best if he can search for a specific scent. Do you have anything that belongs to Rhys? Something he can sniff to get Rhys’s smell?”

  Esmée started to shake her head, then she remembered. “Rhys took his hat off, when we stopped to eat a picnic...”

  She started to run. But how did she know she was going the right way? Swinging back again, she gave a little sob and hesitated. Which direction was that flat stone where they had eaten their carefree lunch?

  Brayden stepped close, catching hold of her shoulders. His hands were big and warm, their touch soothing through the thin cotton of her blouse. “Let’s do this slowly, so you can remember. Just take a second to think it through.”

  “We don’t have a second.” Her voice quavered—she was on the edge of more tears. “Rhys is out there all alone, and while we stand here talking that guy could be going after him.” Her chest hitched as she allowed one of her worst fears to come out. “He could already have him—”

  Brayden drew her close, just briefly. The contact was barely enough to be called a hug, but it steadied her. For an instant, her cheek was pressed against the hard muscles of his chest and she felt the strong, steady rhythm of his heart. “Rhys is going to be fine. We’re going to find him. Now take me to where you left his hat.”

  This time, she didn’t hesitate. Although she’d run in a zigzag path to get away from the shooter, she hadn’t run far before he’d fallen. Within a few minutes, she was leading Brayden into the clearing where she and Rhys had stopped for their picnic. His cap was on the flat stone alongside his collection of stones, leaves and twigs and the abandoned carrier. The sight made her knees buckle and she caught hold of Brayden, clinging to his arm for support.

  “Please...”

  “It’s over to Echo now. He loves this part of his job.” Brayden pulled a disposable glove out of his pocket and put it on before he picked up the baseball cap. “If you or I touch Rhys’s cap before Echo sniffs it, the scent can become muddled. When that happens, it’s no longer a viable scent article.”

  He crouched and snapped the fingers of his ungloved hand. Echo obediently came to sit in front of him. Esmée watched as Brayden held the yellow cap out to the dog. Echo sniffed it, almost with a look of concentration on his face. After a moment or two, the dog’s plumy tail began to wag.

  “That’s a good sign.” Brayden looked up at Esmée. “He doesn’t always do that. It’s an indication that he recognizes Rhys’s scent because he’s met him before.” He withdrew the baseball cap. “Go find Rhys.”

  Echo took off immediately, nose to the ground.

  “We may not be able to keep up with him,” Brayden explained. “But we’ll follow in the same direction. Echo will give an alert—a bark—when he finds something. And it’s fine to call out for Rhys at the same time. It won’t distract Echo from his search.”

  As they followed Echo’s orange vest through the trees, Brayden took out his cell. He spoke a series of numbers and letters and she realized he was giving his call sign to a dispatcher. “Shooter located on the ridge below the Eagle’s Nest. He has been disarmed, but is still at large...Negative. I don’t want backup down here until Rhys da Costa is found. Any additional persons and K-9s in the area could disturb the scent trail.”

  He ended the call and Echo led them out of the cover of the trees and onto the trail. Esmée called Rhys’s name a few times, trying to keep the desperate wobble out of her voice.

  “Do you have any idea who that guy was and why he shot at you?” Brayden didn’t break his stride as he asked the question.

  Esmée sh
ook her head. “No. I never saw him before and he fired as soon as he saw me.”

  “Could it have something to do with the documentary you’re making?” His eyes remained fixed on Echo, who was a few yards ahead, but she saw his jaw tighten. “Not everyone in town is a fan of the idea.”

  “It sounds like an extreme way to stop me from making a TV series.” Her mind refused to stray far from Rhys. They were close to the edge of the ridge and her imagination went into overdrive as she eyed the drop. “I don’t think Rhys would come this way. I told him to stay away.”

  “If he was lost, he may have wandered in this direction—” Brayden broke off as Echo rounded a curve in the trail and uttered a high-pitched bark.

  “That’s his alert.” Brayden broke into a run. “He’s found something.”

  For a second, Esmée’s legs refused to work. Then they became supercharged and she was alongside Brayden, passing him. She hardly dared to breathe as Echo came into view. She gave a little cry of delight as she saw Rhys standing right next to him.

  “Careful.” Brayden caught hold of her arm before she could charge up to her son. His words of caution made her take in the whole scene. She had been so relieved to see Rhys, she hadn’t noticed the way his feet were poised on the extreme edge of the ridge.

  As Rhys turned to look at her, his tearstained face broke into a smile. “Mommy...”

  He tried to take a step toward her, but the gravel beneath his feet slithered away. Rhys made a frantic grab for Echo, missed and slipped over the edge.

  * * *

  “Stand back.” Brayden had to speak sharply to Esmée. In her panic, she was in danger of going over the edge after Rhys.

  “I have to...” Her eyes were wide, unable to fix on any one thing, her face pale. She could go into shock, but he had to focus on Rhys. From what he’d seen of Esmée so far, she was a strong person. He reckoned if he could get her working with him, he could shake her out of her shocked state.

  “You have to help me.” Shrugging off his rescue pack, he handed it to her. “I’m going to take a look over the edge, but I need you to stay back here. We don’t know where Rhys is and any sound could spook him. Okay?”