Rocky Mountain Secrets: Rocky Mountain Sabotage ; Rocky Mountain Pursuit

by Jill Elizabeth Nelson

  “Addicted, I’m guessing,” Lauren said. “Someone among us knew they would find these in her luggage, implying intimate acquaintance with Ms. Haven.”

  Neil slapped his arms against his sides. “How are we supposed to prove that any among us knew your copilot, Garland? Vetting her qualifications was on you!”

  Color leached from Kent’s face. “I agree. I trusted when I shouldn’t have done.”

  Lauren shook her head. “Were your pre-employment procedures for Mags any different for her than for anyone else?”

  “No.”

  “Then I don’t see fault here. Unfortunately, I have learned by bitter experience that those who should be the closest to us can turn out to be the least worthy of our trust.”

  Lauren averted her gaze from her mother’s much-tried expression. Mom made no secret that she thought Lauren should be over her father’s desertion by now. Was that something a person could get over? Clearly, Mom’s sunny disposition had helped her move on. Didn’t she see that Lauren would love to do the same, but had never found the way? She was like a lab mouse forever stuck in the maze without ever reaching the reward.

  The rest of the night passed in fitful dozing. Lauren rose shortly after dawn, grumpy and gritty-eyed. None of the others looked any better than she felt. Breakfast was—surprise!—jerky. Cliff woke up as she washed the last of her dried meat down with lukewarm water. He tried to talk, but the airway prevented him. Lauren removed it, and he let out a long sigh and sat up.

  “What happened?” His voice was a hoarse croak.

  “Someone laced your coffee with narcotics. We nearly lost you.”

  The man’s jaw dropped. “No wonder I feel like I’ve been dragged through a knothole backward.”

  A shadow stole over them, and Lauren looked up to find Kent standing there. He handed Cliff a container of water. The man eagerly downed it.

  Kent squatted by their side. “Did anyone approach you after you took up your post with your coffee?”

  Cliff’s brow knotted. Finally, he shook his head. “I don’t think so, but my memories of last evening are fuzzy. I barely remember being told I was to stand first watch with Dirk. Nothing after that.”

  Lauren’s gaze met Kent’s. No help there in narrowing the field of suspects.

  Kent rose and left the infirmary area. “Listen up, people! I know we’re all dog-tired and cranky, but we have some important assignments today.” Attentive silence fell. “The clouds are breaking up, and the sun is making guest appearances. Our first order of business is to place glass shards on the roof and as high up the sides of the cliffs as we can get and to check for cell service up there. Considering the threat level among us, we able-bodied are going to stick together for this task. No exceptions.”

  “I’m on it,” Cliff said, attempting to rise.

  Lauren pressed him back down.

  Kent shook his head. “There’s no way you can climb rocks when you’re still wobbly and woozy. Stay here with Phil and Rich. Maybe you’ll be better this afternoon, and we can all go out foraging.”

  Cliff’s lips thinned but he nodded.

  Lauren looked from Kent to her patients and back again. “I want to help lay out the glass and search for cell phone signals, but maybe I should stay with the people who are hurt.”

  Rich laughed and waved a hand. “None of us is in a life-threatening condition. We’re not likely to need medical care in the next couple of hours. Go on with the rest.”

  Cliff and Phil nodded affirmation. Still torn, Lauren murmured a soft assent.

  “I’ll stay with the injured,” Dirk piped up. “Like I told you, I can’t handle heights.”

  Kent jabbed a finger at him. “You are coming with us. If nothing else, you can sit at the base of the cliff and call out if you see anything suspicious.”

  Grumbling and sullen, Dirk followed on Lauren’s heels out the door.

  When the group reached the plane, everyone wrapped a good-sized shard of windshield glass in a piece of clothing from their luggage. The signal on the mercantile roof was soon laid, and then they returned to the plane for more glass.

  “We’re going to follow the stream toward the cliff face,” Kent announced. “It behooves us to check out how the water leaves the valley. Probably it goes underground, but on the off chance it offers an escape, we need to know.”

  Faces brightened at the thought, and the onward trek was accompanied by the mutter of swift water across rocks. Breaks in the cloud cover were more frequent than yesterday, and the temperature had become milder. Still, Lauren shivered beneath her layers of clothing. Her chill perhaps had little to do with the outward atmosphere. A ruthless and cunning killer walked among them. Who was it?

  Lauren studied the others. Dirk trudged along, head down and scowling. Neil held his head high, but his jaw muscles flexed as if he were grinding his teeth. Kent led them, his broad back straight and confident, stride long and easy. Mom scurried beside Lauren closely enough that they shared warmth.

  “It’s got to be Dirk,” her mother murmured.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I don’t like him, and I do like Neil.”

  Lauren stifled a wry chuckle. “Agreed, but lots of likable people commit crimes and plenty of jerks are technically honest.”

  “A hateful truth. I suppose Rich could have put the drug in Cliff’s coffee. He gets around well enough with those crutches now. But he couldn’t have stopped up the stovepipe or arranged that potentially deadly accident at the blacksmith shop.”

  Lauren shuddered at the memory of rusty rake teeth stabbing toward her vulnerable flesh. “Our mystery dweller could have done those things. For sure, he set the Conibear trap, though not necessarily intending to catch a human. We city folk would have no idea how to set traps.”

  “Which leaves us exactly where?”

  “Confused.”

  They halted at the base of the cliff, where the stream abruptly disappeared into a cleft in the rocks. A collective groan went up. No way could a person wedge himself into the gap, unless he went underwater, hoping that the opening widened into a navigable cave. And then who knew where that cave might lead? Nobody was ready to take the plunge.

  “Well, that’s that.” Kent turned to face them. “Onward and upward. Spread out so that there is a regular distance between us of a couple dozen yards. Maintain the separation as you climb as far as you feel you can safely go. Then find a flat, stable surface where you can leave your piece of glass. If a search plane spots these reflections at regular intervals, they will know the formation is not natural and come investigate.”

  “When should we try our cell phones?” Dirk held his up.

  Everyone went silent, staring at him.

  “Wha-a-at?” he said.

  “I thought you were scared of heights and weren’t going to climb.” Neil’s tone held a sneer.

  Dirk went bright red. “I want to get rescued more than any of you. Since you dragged me out here, I’m going to climb as high as I can make myself.”

  “All right. Good for you,” Kent said in a moderate tone. “To answer Dirk’s valid question, try your cell phones as frequently as you want, but especially when you reach your highest possible elevation. In fact, send a text message to everyone on your contact lists, naming our location as Trouble Creek, Nevada. Sometimes a text will get through even when it appears there is no cell service. Any other questions?” No one spoke. “Let’s get to it.”

  Ten minutes later, sweat trickled down the back of Lauren’s neck as she climbed. She’d come past the initial easy slope and now picked her way among jumbled rock formations that occasionally offered steps up and sometimes presented barriers to be climbed over. From somewhere on her right hand, her mother’s progress could be heard but not seen. Glancing above and to the left, Kent’s large figure made progress. He was a moving landmark�
�an inspiration to keep on going.

  Lauren paused and checked her cell. No service bars. She sent a text nonetheless then continued upward. At last, she pulled herself onto a wide ledge and stopped to rest. The noises from her mother’s side had ceased. Perhaps Mom had reached her maximum height, left her glass shard and was on the way down. Lauren could only hope. A sudden chink, chink, chink of falling stone far to her left let her know that Kent still climbed.

  Seated on the lip of the ledge, she gazed into the valley below. The sun had come out full force about the time they discovered that the stream disappeared underground, and the wreckage of the plane gleamed dully—itself a possible rescue beacon. The town of Trouble Creek was a sparse collection of mud-brown buildings.

  Wait a minute. Was someone moving around along the edge of the town? At this distance, all she could make out was a speck, but it was definitely traveling. Either she was seeing a large animal or a human being. Could it be Cliff? He was the most mobile among those they’d left behind. If so, why had he left the mercantile? Maybe it was the mystery dweller. Were those they’d left down below in danger?

  Sucking in a breath, Lauren stood and strained her eyes toward the movement skirting the abandoned mining village. A rustle of sound caught her ear. Not from below. From behind her! The breath froze in her lungs. She commanded herself to turn, but it was as if her body had become like the very rocks she stood upon.

  A low, feral growl grew in intensity. Every hair on Lauren’s body stood to attention as she whirled, hands raised in defensive posture. A towering mass of fur lumbered toward her on its hind legs. A bear. Yet not a bear. She caught only a glimpse of the horrific creature as she screamed, stumbled backward and plunged off the ledge.

  * * *

  Lauren’s scream shot through Kent like a geyser of ice water. Praying frantically, he made his way down. If anything had happened to that glorious woman, he’d—what? He stuffed the panic down. Couldn’t think like that right now. Getting to her as quickly as possible was the only focus.

  At last he reached a decent-sized ledge. The scream had come from somewhere near here. His gaze was snagged by a small, unnatural movement. Something was caught, waving in the breeze, between a pair of small boulders near the lip of the ledge. He went closer and leaned down. Fur! He plucked the tuft of hairs from the chink in the rocks and stuffed it into his jacket pocket.

  A human groan sent his heart into overdrive. Peering over the ledge, he found Lauren’s crumpled figure about eight feet below, draped over a very small ledge that interrupted a sheer drop of lethal distance. The drop-off ended in a set of rocks jutting up like serrated teeth. If Lauren stirred more than a few inches, she’d tumble over, and those teeth would chew her up.

  “Lauren,” he called with soft urgency. “Lauren, stay still.”

  Another groan answered him. She lifted her head and peered up at him, gaze disoriented.

  “Make only very small movements,” he told her. “You’re on the edge of a drop-off.”

  She blinked, and her face paled as comprehension entered her eyes.

  “Are you hurt?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so. Bruised, maybe.”

  Kent exhaled a long breath. Thank You, God! If she’d broken a bone, who knew how he would get her to safety.

  “Okay. I need you to stand up very carefully. If you stand and reach for me, I should be able to pull you up here.”

  Kent stretched out flat on his stomach and extended his arms toward her as she eased to her feet, clinging closely to the cliff face.

  Crack!

  A chunk of her narrow ledge broke way, staggering her. With a shriek, she flung her arms upward, and Kent caught her wrists.

  “Don’t stop!” he called. “Scramble up here.”

  He pulled for all he was worth, and she practically lunged up the wall into his arms. They clung together on their knees, shaking and breathing hard.

  “You’re okay now. You’re all right.” He kept repeating those words as her soft sobs sent tremors through him.

  At last, she lifted her head. Those jade-colored eyes shimmered with tears. He wanted to hold her and never stop. Keep her safe forever.

  The rattle of falling rock stabbed ice into his core. Kent broke away from Lauren and whirled, hand on his sidearm.

  Nina stood a few feet away, but her gaze was not on them. Her eyes were wide and fixed on the valley. Slowly, she lifted her arm and pointed.

  “Fire!”

  NINE

  All but Phil and Rich stood staring at the burned-out hulk of the small cabin where the mystery dweller had kept vital supplies. Everything they hadn’t yet moved to the mercantile was toast now. Long columns of smoke drifted upward, tainting the air with acrid odor.

  Lauren’s gut churned. Her hands made tight fists. If only she had someone’s face to bury them in she might actually let swing. Whoever did this had it coming.

  “At least none of the other buildings caught fire,” Cliff muttered.

  “The whole town could have gone up in flames,” Neil said. “Then where would we stay to keep warm?”

  Lauren glanced over at Kent, who stood with his hands in his pockets, face set like granite. For a few moments on that ledge while he’d held her, she’d allowed herself to feel safe, protected. An illusion, of course. Here was reality.

  “This was no accident,” she said. “When I was up on the cliffs, I saw someone sneaking around the edge of the town like he was up to no good. I couldn’t make out who it was, but with Kent, Neil, Dirk, my mom and me rock-climbing, that doesn’t leave many options.”

  All eyes narrowed on Cliff.

  “It wasn’t me. Phil and Rich can vouch I stayed indoors right up until we smelled the smoke, and I came running. But there was nothing I could do except watch this place burn.” He spread his hands. “Then you guys showed up all out of breath.”

  “The mystery dweller strikes again,” Lauren’s mom pronounced in clipped syllables.

  “Why would he burn his own place down?” Dirk asked.

  “To keep us from getting his stuff,” Neil said.

  “Seems pretty drastic.” Dirk hugged himself.

  “Our whole situation is pretty drastic, DJ.” Cliff’s tone was more tired than snide.

  “Let’s get back to the mercantile, everyone,” Kent directed. “We need to haul in more water and then start seriously foraging for provisions. No one, I repeat, no one goes out alone.”

  At midafternoon, while the others were hunkered around the stove extracting nuts from pine cones, Lauren volunteered to accompany Kent on a fishing expedition to the creek—a literal fishing expedition. He had managed to fashion a pole from a stout stick, thick thread from the telltale parachute and a hook from a safety pin contained in her mom’s travel sewing kit. They would either find bait by digging for worms at the creek’s edge or default to bits of jerky.

  “What do you know?” Kent chuckled as they left the warmth of the mercantile. “Your mother hardly seemed to notice we left together.”

  Lauren smiled, but humor quickly faded. “Just goes to show how worried she is about other things.”

  “I don’t blame her. And, as much as I wish your sole motivation in volunteering for this excursion was to be with me, I suspect you have an ulterior motive. Is there something you need to tell me?”

  They stopped and faced each other along the path that was beginning to be worn by the party’s many trips to the creek. Heart beating raggedly, Lauren searched Kent’s face. Did he mean what he said about wanting her to want to be with him? Probably just that life and death moments tended to bring out intensity of feelings that wouldn’t otherwise be there. Besides, this was an impossible time to consider romance. She ran her tongue across her teeth and looked away.

  “Yes, something I need to talk to you about.” She started onward toward the creek
, and he fell into step without further comment. She took his silence as an invitation to continue her story. “When I was up on that ledge—before I fell—something...no, someone came at me.”

  “Something? Someone? Which is it?”

  “I wish I knew.” She shuddered. “It was huge—taller than you. It stood on its hind legs and was covered in fur.”

  “A bear?”

  “That’s just it. The face was not a bear’s. It was human. Sort of.”

  “Can you be more specific?”

  Lauren stopped again and squared off with Kent. “You don’t believe me.”

  “On the contrary, I believe you totally.” He dug in his jacket pocket and produced a tuft of fur. “I found this up there.”

  Lauren closed her eyes and swallowed. Hard. She looked up at Kent. “What was it? I was terrified. That’s why I tumbled off the ledge.”

  “Could be our mystery dweller. Makes sense that he’d swaddle himself in furs to keep warm.”

  “But if the mystery dweller was up on the cliffs with me, who was sneaking around starting fires in Trouble Creek?”

  “Maybe we’ve got more than one mystery dweller...or maybe the saboteur among us is cleverer than we ever imagined.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Means I’m going to be doing some serious thinking while I’m fishing.”

  “Ditto.”

  “Good. Let’s bounce ideas off each other. We might even come up with a plan.”

  Lauren’s insides warmed. This man treated her like part of his team, actually acted like he needed and appreciated her. She’d never allowed herself to be treated like arm candy by any of the guys she’d sporadically dated, but none of them had made her feel like her thoughts and opinions might impact their choices. Could that possibly be because she’d always picked men whose careers meant more to them than any person? Had that choice on her part been calculated to keep the relationships superficial? The better to guard her heart?