On Thin Ice

by Cherry Adair

  Lily grabbed his forearm as their eyes met. She saw something cold, calculating and determined in the depths of his midnight blue eyes. "You're a rancher and I'm a vet. We need to get to the next checkpoint to alert the authorities and the other mushers. Let them hunt this guy down like the sniveling animal he is."

  "My problem, my solution."

  She fumbled with the edge of the bag; she was not going to let him go after some lunatic with a gun, a mission and questionable aim. Cold air clawed at her bare, love-warmed skin. This time she ignored the cold, shivering as she rose up on her elbow. "I don't think we should tempt fate, but if you're going, I'm coming with you."

  "Not just no, but hell no." He picked up his rifle. "Stay where you are. If he's around I'll find him. Then I'll be back."

  "Pretty damn arrogant of you," Lily said quietly. "I can help you. You know I'm a terrific shot."

  "Yeah." He bent to cover her up again, zipped the bag to her throat and then brushed her cheek with his finger. "You are. Which is why your rifle is right here, and why I'm confident you can take care of yourself while I'm gone." He rose to fasten his coat.

  "But—"

  He cut her off. "He could circle back and kill the dogs. We're already screwed with only the one sled. All yours is useful for about now is kindling."

  Lily sucked in a shaky breath. "God. You're right. Sorry. I didn't think about that. Still, I'm getting dressed. Damned if I'll sit here like an ice cube just waiting for him to show up." She snagged her duffel and grabbed some fresh clothes.

  "I'll take care of the dogs before I go."

  "No. I'll do it."

  He looked torn. "Damn it. You need rest. You can barely keep your eyes ope—"

  "I'll chug some of my special vitamins," she assured him, trying to look more alert than she felt. "Just go and get it over with. And Derek? If you won't be smart, at least be careful."

  "I will." He unzipped his duffel and withdrew a large, lethal-looking knife.

  Lily's eyes widened as he strapped a sheath onto his right thigh and inserted the weapon with the deftness of someone who knew exactly how to use a deadly, seven-inch blade on something other than a nice piece of steak. He dropped his pant leg to cover it and Lily blinked back a sudden clutch of fear.

  Who was this man? Everything she'd thought she'd known about Derek mere hours ago was suddenly wiped out by this grim-faced stranger with cold eyes who was armed to the teeth.

  Fifteen

  Mouth dry, Lily asked calmly, "Is there anything you want me to do while you're gone?"

  His eyes narrowed. "Keep a sharp eye open for anything out of the ordinary. If our shooter knows he blew it again, he could become really dangerous. And if he gets close enough, a bullet from an incompetent's gun is just as lethal as one from someone who knows what the hell he's doing."

  "Should I break camp?"

  "Yeah, but keep the fire going so you can stay warm." He scraped one hand down his face and Lily knew he was torn between going out to do what must be done and staying behind with her. Safety won. "Pack up, but leave any duplicates behind. I'll have someone come and get what we leave."

  Who someone? Lily wondered, but gave him a sharp salute without asking. "Yes, sir. I'm right on it, sir."

  "Too bad I can't ask you to stay here naked waiting for me. It would sure as hell be an incentive to hurry back."

  "Here's an incentive to hurry back." Lily pulled his head down to hers and sank her teeth into his lower lip, then sucked it into her mouth before kissing him seductively.

  He cupped her face as they broke apart. "Damn good incentive." Then he put on his game face again. "Stay vigilant. Trust no one. I mean it, Lily. We have no idea who we're dealing with here. Shoot first, ask questions later."

  "The next person through will be an Iditaroder."

  "Or the sniper," he reminded her.

  "I'll make whoever it is identify themselves before I blow dem avey, hokay, Arnold?"

  He didn't smile at her bad impression. "This is someone you know, Lily. Someone you've talked to, and probably laughed with. Someone who's blending in with everyone else. I'm serious. Trust no one. This person wants you dead. He won't keep screwing up. Eventually everyone gets a break." His eyes darkened. For a moment Lily thought he was going to kiss her again. But he just stood there looking at her, mouth grim, eyes shadowed. "We haven't even begun to explore our possibilities. Stay safe."

  "While I respect the take-charge attitude here, what makes you think you know what some crazy is thinking?"

  Derek paused briefly and something unsaid passed across his face. He didn't offer any explanation. "I don't want anything else happening to you. Take care of yourself until I get back." He pulled her up for another quick kiss before letting himself out of the tent and zipping it closed behind him. Lily listened to the crunch of his boots in the snow as he strode away.

  She dressed quickly. She'd been lucky, really lucky, Derek had been there to help her, and in time. Nearly drowning had been a terrifying experience, and one she'd probably have more than a few nightmares about in the years to come. But at least she was alive to have those nightmares. She rummaged around in her bag for more layers since her coat was somewhere out there, soaking wet. Then she went to take care of the animals, her mind whirling along with the flurries falling from the moonlit sky.

  Derek had chosen the campsite well. On one side was a pile of large boulders that reflected the fire and made the heat stronger, on the other a dense clump of shrubs backed by a thick stand of trees.

  The fire was still crackling, and she put on a large pot of the dogs' food to heat up. Then, grabbing up her rifle, she went down to the river. Ears alert for any sound, gaze scanning her surroundings, she retrieved the clothing Derek had stripped off her.

  Derek was making her crazy and more than just in the physical sense. When had he gone from rancher to Lone Ranger? Over the years she had interpreted his behavior as arrogant self-assuredness. Now, those same traits were cast in a new and different light. His decisiveness and intellect far outshone anything Sean had been capable of. He easily took command of situations, so how come he'd been so hands-off? Lily's life was suddenly equal parts confusion and excitement. Hadn't she come to Alaska to plot and plan a simple, quiet life?

  Adrenaline coursed through her veins. While she didn't relish having some loony arbitrarily shooting at her, she had to admit there was something exhilarating about her circumstances. The blend of impending danger and raw sex was a heady combination.

  Dawn was still a distant promise, blending land, water and sky into a dark gray watercolor wash with no delineating markings to show one surface from the other. Lily shivered. From where she stood, she couldn't see the hole out on the river where she'd fallen in. But it was out there. She felt it. Terrifying. Deadly. Almost her own watery grave.

  She looked at the bits and pieces of her sled scattered about. No point trying to gather them up. There was no way they could reconstruct it and make it trail-worthy again.

  The race was effectively over for her, Lily thought, walking back up to where Derek had made camp. But considering that life had almost been over for her, the race didn't seem quite as important as it once had.

  She wrung as much water out of her coat as she could, spread it close to the fire, sheepskin out to dry, then started taking down the tent. Her rifle was within easy reach at all times.

  The hunter was being hunted.

  Derek followed the running steps in the snow leading away from the river. He found where the guy had stood to take his shots at Lily. Saw the three twenty-two shell casings on the ground, and glanced up the hill through the trees where the man's deeply shadowed foot indentations in the snow looked like a slashing black marker leading away in a zigzag pattern up the hill.

  The wind came up, blowing its icy breath against his face. He repositioned his goggles and pulled his scarf up to cover the lower half of his face as he slogged through the deep snow.

  The guy had slowed
here. Derek turned around to see what the sniper had seen. A good view of the river with the moon so bright. He'd stood here. Watched Lily go in. But had he seen her climb out? Had he seen Derek's arrival?

  He read the position of the man's booted feet. The guy hadn't stayed long. Long enough to gloat perhaps, but maybe not long enough to make sure his shots had been successful.

  The snow up here was calf deep, which made it heavy going. Derek paused as a wisp of sound reached him. A coughing engine? Yeah.

  Got ya!

  He closed his eyes to pinpoint the sound in the thin mountain air, then changed direction slightly and headed north. The stupid son of a bitch was flooding the engine of the snowmobile. With any luck at all the idiot was going to strand himself and become an all too easy target.

  The sat phone vibrated against his chest. Damn. "What?"

  "Love talking to you. You're always so cheery," Dare said in his ear.

  "Make it fast," Derek said, sprinting through the trees, following the footprints in the snow. "I'm hunting."

  "Ash made contact. Your bull-sperm bad guys are all in custody," Darius informed him, cutting to the chase. He rattled off half a dozen names Derek was familiar with; a couple of them were hands Sean had brought in when Derek had been away on one of his trips. And Barry Campbell, their lawyer. Figured. "Oh, yeah. And your stalker is one Clay Barber," Dare said. "Tell him hello when you see him. I'll send the garbage detail out to pick up the body."

  The line went dead. "Thanks," Derek said dryly to dead air. He disconnected, pausing to listen for the faint bass hum of the engine, then started running again. Like Sam Croft, Barber was an employee, although Derek couldn't bring the man's face to mind. Between the two ranches, hundreds of people worked for him.

  He ran the next mile guided by the sound of the coughing engine. Easier going under the trees, where the snow wasn't as thick, and the rocky ground made traction better. Cresting the hill, he saw a man bent over a vehicle, his back to him. Derek rested the rifle against a tree trunk and stealthily made his way down to where the guy, who was swearing a blue streak, tinkered with the engine of the Polaris.

  The other man didn't know he wasn't alone until Derek had one arm jerked around his throat, and Derek's weapon in the small of the coward's back. "What the fu—"

  Derek dug the barrel of the Baer combat pistol into the guy's spine and tightened his arm around his throat to cut off any other attempts at speech. "Barber."

  Clay pulled at Derek's arm, and found enough air to gasp, "Hey, man. Am I glad to see y—Fuckit, Wright." He forced a laugh and shook his head, holding both hands up, palms out. "You oughta calm down, man."

  Derek was in no mood for this. "Cut the crap. I know you're the one who tried to kill Dr. Munroe."

  "Kill? No fucking way, man."

  "How much they pay you to off Dr. Munroe?" He pressed the barrel of the Baer hard against the mastoid process behind Barber's ear, and applied upward and inward pressure.

  "Ten grand," Barber said quickly.

  "You think ten grand's worth dying for?" he asked conversationally as Barber struggled in his hold. "Just for the record, you didn't succeed." Derek tightened his forearm against Clay's throat again.

  "Fuck. You're choking me. Le' go."

  Spreading his feet, Derek tightened his grip and jerked Barber off balance. "In your dreams, asshole," he hissed into the younger man's ear. Smelling the guy's anger. Smelling the stink of bloodlust. Derek leveled the pistol at the larger man's head.

  "I'm not the one about to die, dickhead." Surprisingly light on his feet, Barber spun around and ducked under Derek's arm. Derek gave him a hard chop to the back of the neck. Barber laughed as he danced away.

  He turned and charged Derek, head down. The man was unarmed, and as much as Derek craved shooting the bastard point-blank, that wasn't his way. He waited until the man was close enough then swung his fist in and up, nailing Barber in the solar plexus and dropping him like Shamu diving into his pool.

  Barber doubled over, staggered, then straightened with blood in his eye. "I should've killed you first."

  "You should've tried." Good, Derek thought, widening his stance as Barber started dancing from foot to foot in a half circle around him. Shooting the son of a bitch would save time. But, Jesus, he wanted a fight. Mano a mano. He hoped the guy was good and fought dirty.

  "You took how many shots at Lily?" he taunted. "And not one hit? Tsk, tsk. You're one piss-poor sniper, Barber." Derek watched the man's narrowed eyes. "Hope you're better with your fists than a gun. I'm in the mood for a little exercise." Derek wiggled his gloved fingers in a come-and-get-it taunt.

  Barber came up swinging, as enraged as a drunken sailor. Derek jerked his head back a split second before Barber's meaty knuckles connected.

  He was strong.

  Perfect.

  "I know you work for the cartel selling the bogus sperm, so don't bother shitting me. Who's next up the food chain? Who's paying you? Give me a name." Just in case anyone had been missed in the sweep.

  "Fuck you."

  "Wrong answer." Derek spun him around and delivered a powerful uppercut to the chin. Barber staggered backward, eyes wild. "We have all your associates in custody," Derek told him grimly, grabbing him by his jacket front. "You might as well give it up."

  The man wiped blood off his mouth with the back of his gloved hand, his expression murderous. "Fuck you." He put his head down and charged again. With a derisive snort Derek stepped aside. The other man staggered past him yelling obscenities, his arms windmilling for balance.

  Blood pumped hard as adrenaline rushed through Derek's veins. He spread his feet in a defensive stance as Barber turned. Every cell in his body screamed to beat the bastard until he was just a bloody mark on the snow.

  Shooting him would be too damn easy. Instead of putting a bullet in him, he'd rather pull the son of a bitch's balls out through his nose for what he'd done to Lily. Derek tucked the Baer back into the shoulder holster as Barber charged again, shoulder down.

  They came together like two bulls locking horns in a fight for supremacy. Equal strength. Equal desire to be the last man standing. Equal adrenaline rush with no place to go.

  Screaming like an animal, Barber staggered back, arms flailing. Derek used his own momentum and jerked him by the arm, then swung him in a half circle and shot out a kick, hard, to Barber's mid-section. The man grunted; air pushed out of his lungs with a great whoosh. He crawled to his hands and knees, gasping for breath.

  Derek waited until he staggered to his feet, then dropped him again using a snapping karate side kick to Barber's knee. Barber howled with pain, but this time he only staggered, then came at Derek full tilt, again screaming obscenities.

  Derek did a half side step and tried to twist his body, but Barber's thick head hit between belly and rib and they both crashed to the ground. The younger man on top, Barber straddled Derek, pummeling whatever he could reach. Derek jackknifed, got a booted foot wedged securely against Barber's kidneys and thumped him with his heel. Barber screamed and twisted around. Derek rolled, taking the younger man with him. Sweat flew like confetti as they matched punch for punch, both panting, gasping for air as they rolled, beating the crap out of each other as they went.

  "I should've offed you first," Barber gasped, face red.

  "You could've tried." They circled each other, a macabre duet. While the wind howled through the treetops, their breath came hard and fast, then frosted in the icy air.

  Locking his gaze with Derek's, Barber reached down and pulled a Tarpon Bay hunting knife from a sheath on his left thigh.

  Derek smiled, all teeth, already tossing his KaBar from hand to hand. "Your weapon of choice, is it?" Derek asked dangerously, remembering Croft's injuries and the relish with which they'd been inflicted.

  "Slice and dice, asshole. Slice and dice. I'm gonna have me a little fun with you, and when I'm done, I'm gonna go find me a pretty lady doctor to play with."

  Derek keep his f
eet moving, his right arm relaxed, as he cut and thrust, cut and thrust. Barber did the same. They circled, clearing a ring in the snow at their feet.

  "Look around you, asshole. This will be your last sight. Me with this knife in your gut," Derek told him, feeling a familiar eerie calm settle over him as he feinted and parried.

  To the death.

  Only one man could leave this hilltop alive. And it had to be him. Anything else was unthinkable. Barber would never get another chance to be within a thousand miles of Lily.

  There were three major target groups in a knife fight: muscles and nerves, blood vessels and vital organs. Severing the muscles and nerves would disable Barber's limbs. Eventually. Severing blood vessels and vital organs would ultimately cause death, the last deterrent for any attacker.

  Barber did a high thrust and his knife skimmed Derek's throat. First blood. Derek shot out his left arm and closed his fingers around Barber's thick neck. His reach was only marginally longer than the younger man's, and he kept his arm extended as Barber danced around cursing as Derek squeezed.

  "Fuck you, Wright. Fuck you."

  "You have a limited vocabulary. I'd love to send you to prison to get a higher education, but time's a wasting and I have to book."

  Clay gave him a narrow-eyed look. "You think you're gonna leave me here?"

  No. Darius will send a garbage detail. Eventually. "It's a straight shot to McGrath—only about a hundred fifty miles. Better start walking."

  Barber came at him with a front kick, which Derek blocked with an X block. He grabbed Barber's leg behind the ankle and pulled it to one side, then delivered a quick, sharp groin kick with his knee that had the younger man doubled over and shrieking like a girl.

  "Fuck you." Barber ran, half crouched to protect his balls, heading toward the snowmobile, where the rifle's butt end jutted up from a scabbard. Derek ran and did a low tackle. Their bodies hit the side of the snowmobile with a loud thunk, Derek on top. Move, block, strike. Strike again. Blood poured from Barber's nose. He heaved upward, lunging to his feet, staggering, sweat and blood pouring down his face. Derek rolled out of the way of Barber's size-thirteen boot as it slammed down inches from his head. Barber turned, his sniper rifle in his hands.