“I did,” Luke answered. “Ask Maggie if she has any idea where they were going.”
Dean asked the question, but Luke couldn’t hear the answer. Finally Dean spoke again. “She doesn’t know, but she did hear him say something about a waterfall and his grandmother.”
“Thanks, Dean. I’ve got to go. I’ll be in touch.”
He didn’t give Dean time to say anything else before he was calling the sheriff’s office. Clara answered right away. “Sheriff’s office.”
“Clara, this is Luke. Trace Johnson has kidnapped Cheyenne Cassidy. I need a BOLO put out on him right away. Tell the officers he’s armed and dangerous.”
“You got it, Luke.”
“And call me if there are any sightings.”
“I will.”
He disconnected the call and sat there for a moment. “Think,” he muttered out loud as he pounded the steering wheel. “Where do I turn now?”
An idea popped into his head and he made another phone call. Bill Johnson answered right away. “Hello.”
“Bill, this is Luke. I need to find Trace. Do you know of a waterfall that has some connection to his grandmother?”
“Yeah. It’s Mingo Falls over close to Cherokee. He used to go there all the time with her.”
A small hope washed over him. “I know the place. Thanks, Bill.”
“Luke, what’s this about?”
But he had no time to answer. He’d already disconnected that call and was placing another one. Clara answered. “Luke? Do you have something?”
“He’s going to Mingo Falls. My guess is he’ll go on Highway 441 since that’s a direct route to Cherokee. I’m on my way. Let the others know.”
He’d barely gone a mile when his cell phone rang and he connected. It was Clara. “Luke, Patterson spotted him. He’s on 441 headed into the park.”
Luke frowned. “Then we need to stop him before he crosses the state line at Newfound Gap and leaves our jurisdiction. Call the sheriff over in Cherokee County and ask him to set up a roadblock so he can’t get past there. Maybe we can stop him at the gap.”
“Got it,” Clara said as she disconnected.
Luke pressed down on the accelerator, and his truck lurched forward. As he raced along the road, all he could think about was how scared Cheyenne must be, and he prayed over and over. “Don’t let him hurt her, God. Please don’t let him hurt her.”
FOURTEEN
Cheyenne kept hoping that Trace would put the gun down, but he’d kept it on his knees with his left hand on it ever since they’d left the ranch. From time to time his fingers wrapped around the trigger, and she held her breath expecting him to shoot at any moment.
They hadn’t talked since they’d gotten in the truck, and she was afraid that anything she said might set him off. So she’d chosen to be quiet and try to figure out a way that she could escape from him. Nothing had come to her yet.
It had been clear to her from the time he forced her into the vehicle that there was no help for her. No one knew where she was and what had happened. They probably wouldn’t miss her for hours, and then it would be too late. She would probably be dead at the bottom of Mingo Falls. The thought sent fear racing through her, and she closed her eyes.
She turned her head and stared out the window as he drove farther along the national park road that crossed the mountains from Tennessee to North Carolina. She’d intended to take this drive ever since she moved here, but she never had. Now she was being transported across the mountains by a psychopath who intended to kill her.
For a moment her thoughts went to Luke. She’d hoped there might be a happily-ever-after for them, but it looked doubtful now. Her life was going to end soon unless she did something.
She spotted a road sign displaying a distance of four miles to Newfound Gap, the lowest point on the ridge through the mountains. She also knew the North Carolina line was there. In a few minutes she’d be in another state.
“No!” Trace suddenly shouted, and she straightened in her seat.
“What’s wrong?”
“I can see a police car behind us.”
She twisted in the seat to look through the rear window and felt a ray of hope at the sight of a squad car in the distance, its blue lights flashing, bearing down on them. Before she could say anything, Trace pressed the accelerator to the floor and they skidded around a sharp curve. Cheyenne braced for the crash she felt was about to come as the truck hit the shoulder of the road and raced along the side of the mountain.
She stared out the window at the drop-off of the mountain hillside to her right. The truck dislodged some rocks at the edge of the road, and they tumbled downward in a small rock slide before Trace regained control of the vehicle. He muttered under his breath as the truck surged forward, snapping her neck back.
They sped along for a few miles with her gripping the edge of her seat and Trace trying to keep control of the speeding truck. She knew that Newfound Gap lay just ahead, and she wondered if the sheriff’s car would pursue them into North Carolina. Probably not.
Suddenly Trace slammed on the brakes, and the car skidded to a stop. If she hadn’t been wearing her seat belt, she was sure she would have gone through the windshield. She stared straight ahead. Her heart jumped into her throat at the sight of North Carolina police officers blocking the road just over the state line. Behind them, she could hear the sirens of the approaching Tennessee officers.
Trace gunned the accelerator again and roared into the parking lot of the overlook at Newfound Gap. The truck came to an abrupt stop, and he was out of it before she could get her seat belt unfastened.
This was her chance to escape. She reached for the door handle, but before she even touched it, he had jerked open the door. He had the gun aimed at her and a furious look on his face. “Get out! Now!” he bellowed.
She scrambled from the car and he grabbed her by the arm. Behind them she heard the police cars coming to a halt in the parking lot, but Trace tightened his hold on her and dragged her forward along the north side of the parking area toward the Rockefeller Memorial, where President Franklin Roosevelt had officially dedicated the Smoky Mountain National Park years ago. She’d never been here, but she’d seen pictures of the semicircular stone structure elevated above the ground with a clump of trees behind it.
The gray stone structure reminded her of a fortress tucked into the mountainside. She swallowed the bile that rose in her throat as she spotted the winding steps that led to the top. They provided the only ascent, and a sudden thought filled her with fear. That memorial was like an impenetrable fort towering over the parking lot. If Trace forced her to the top, he would probably kill them both before anyone could reach them.
As Trace pulled her forward, she stumbled, but he jerked her to her feet. “What are you doing?” she shouted. “You need to give yourself up.”
He looked at her and snarled. “I guess we won’t make it to Mingo Falls. It looks like we’ll die here, and the top of the memorial is as good a place as any.”
She swallowed her fear as he forced her to the side of the structure and up the steps to the very top. They emerged onto the flat surface, where thousands of visitors came each year to get a good view of the mountains around.
There were no people in the parking lot or at the memorial today probably because it was Christmas Eve. She was glad. At least no innocent people would be caught in this situation.
Trace pushed her to the floor and sank down beside her. They sat with their backs to the wall as they heard more cars come to a stop in the parking lot. Then she heard a voice calling out. “Trace, make it easy on yourself. Let her go.”
Her heart began to pound, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Luke was here. He’d found her, and he was going to save her. Her joy was short-lived, however, when she glanced at Trace and saw the
rage on his face. “So he came after you. Too bad he’s not going to be able to save you.”
Suddenly he grabbed her arm, jerked her to her feet and pushed her against the waist-high wall facing the parking lot. He stood behind her with his arm around her and his gun pointed at her head.
As she looked out over the parking lot, she could see sheriff’s deputies as well as some highway patrol officers and North Carolina officers in the parking lot. Some were crouched beside their cars, and others peered around the backs of theirs. Then she saw Luke. He stood beside his truck and stared up at her. He raised a bullhorn to his mouth and spoke into it.
“Let Cheyenne go, Trace. We don’t want anybody to get hurt here today.”
“Back off, Conrad,” Trace yelled back. “I’ll shoot any man who comes closer, but I’ll reserve the last two bullets. One for her and one for me. If you make one move toward me, I’ll kill her.”
“You don’t want to do that. There’s no escape for you. Make it easy on yourself and let her go.”
Trace became more agitated and he pressed the gun tighter to her head. “We’re going to escape this world together. We’re going to die right here.”
“Nobody has to die today, Trace. Put the gun down and give yourself up. It’ll go better for you if you do.”
“I know what you’re doing, Conrad!” Trace shouted. “You want to save Cheyenne for yourself, but I’m not going to let you have her. Now back off before I kill her right now.”
He aimed the gun and fired two shots at Luke. Cheyenne screamed as they both kicked up dust just inches away from Luke. Then Trace yanked her back down to the floor of the memorial and pressed her against the wall. “Don’t move,” he threatened.
She was too scared to answer, so she just nodded. He slid to the floor beside her and leaned back against the wall. She watched as he closed his eyes and raked his hand through his hair. She had no idea how long they sat like that, her staring at him as he became more agitated. From time to time she heard a groan, and he would press his finger to the trigger. Every time he did, her heart exploded with fear.
Then he began to mutter. “When it gets dark. When it gets dark.”
It dawned on her what he’d been trying to do for the last few minutes. He’d been trying to get up enough courage to end their lives, and she knew what he’d decided. They were both going to die when it got dark, and from the looks of the lengthening shadows, that time wasn’t far off.
* * *
Luke felt helpless. Cheyenne was at the top of the memorial with a killer, and any move on their part could put her life at risk. He stood beside his truck and kept his eyes trained on the spot where he’d seen her earlier. Now that night was falling, he could make out the shape of the memorial, but he hadn’t seen her again. He could only imagine how terrified she must be.
He heard footsteps approaching behind, and he turned to see Ben striding forward. He came to a stop next to Luke. “Any changes?”
“No. We’ve got to do something, Ben. The temperature’s beginning to drop. I can’t stand to think about Cheyenne up there hungry and cold with a gun pointed to her head.”
“I’ve been discussing our options with the tactical team that’s come in. They’re trying to figure out the best strategy. If we storm the place, we run the risk of him shooting her. Do you have a suggestion?”
Luke exhaled a deep breath. “Yeah. I think one man might have a chance to get up those stairs in the dark and take him by surprise.”
Ben looked at him. “That sounds risky and dangerous. Who are you suggesting for the job?”
“Me. I’ve climbed those stairs dozens of times in the past. In the dark I can go down the south side of the parking lot and circle around until I can get to the base of the steps. Then I can slip up the steps to the top and take him down.”
Ben looked at him with a skeptical look on his face. “Just like that you’re going to take him down. Luke, he’ll shoot you before you set foot on the top of the memorial.”
Luke shook his head. “Not if I’m careful. I carried out at least a dozen missions like this when I was in the army. I can do it.”
Ben studied his face for a moment and then sighed. “Are you sure? It might—”
“I have to try,” Luke interrupted. “I love her, Ben.”
Ben studied him a moment before he finally sighed and nodded. “Okay. What can we do to help?”
“While I’m working my way around, you keep talking to him. Ask him to let you see Cheyenne again. Just say anything to keep him distracted and give me time.”
Ben nodded. “Okay. But be careful.”
Luke nodded and slipped into the shadows down the south side of the parking lot. As he made his way down the slope, he could hear Ben’s voice echoing in the night. “Hey, Johnson. I want to talk to you.”
For a few minutes there was no sound, then Trace answered. “What about?”
“It’s getting cold out here. I don’t know what kind of coat you have, but you’ve lived in these mountains long enough to know December nights can be rough, and it’s even more so at this elevation.”
“So?”
“So, I just want to help you out. I thought you and Cheyenne might need some blankets or some hot food. How about that?”
“You can’t fool me. You don’t want to help me. You’ll promise anything if you think I’ll let you have Cheyenne,” Trace yelled.
“I want to help both of you. We’ve got lots of men out here, and they aren’t going anywhere. All of us are cold and getting hungry. You can end all this if you just come on down, and we’ll get you warm and get some hot food in you.”
“I know that’s you, Ben, and you can save your breath. The only way we’re leaving the top of this memorial is in body bags.”
As Ben continued to coax Trace to give himself up, Luke kept moving until he had worked himself around to the side of the structure, where a steep flight of steps led to the top. The ground crunched under his feet, and he stilled to make sure he hadn’t been heard. He could tell he was standing on some rocks, and he reached down and put two in his pocket.
“Trace,” Ben called out, “how is Cheyenne doing?”
“Don’t worry about her. She’s fine.”
“It sure would make me feel better to see for myself. Why don’t you let her stand up and show me?”
Luke pulled his gun from his holster and gripped it with both hands in front of him. He put his foot onto the first step and eased up to the second.
“I tell you she’s fine,” Trace yelled.
“Just let me see for myself. That’s all I’m asking.”
As silently as he could, Luke moved up the steps until he was standing with his back against the wall in the curve that led to the top. All he had to do was take that last step onto the landing, and he would be face-to-face with Cheyenne’s captor. He said a quick prayer for a steady hand and a safe rescue.
“Let me see her, Trace,” Ben called.
Luke heard a rustling noise and a protesting grunt from Cheyenne as she was pulled to her feet. “Here she is, Ben,” Trace yelled. “Are you satisfied?”
Luke peered around the corner and caught sight of Trace standing behind Cheyenne with his body pressed against her as he held her to the wall facing the parking lot. Luke reached in his pocket and threw one of the rocks against the far end of the memorial. It struck the side, and the sound echoed in the night.
Surprised, Trace whirled around with his weapon pointed in that direction and fired. His hand that still held Cheyenne loosened, and she jerked free of his grip. Luke took a leap onto the floor of the memorial. “Drop the gun, Trace,” he shouted.
Trace froze for a moment, and then he whirled with the gun pointed at Luke. Before he could fire his gun, Luke pulled the trigger and Trace dropped to the ground. Luke rushed fo
rward and kicked the gun away before he turned to Cheyenne.
She had sunk to the floor and sat huddled against the wall, her body shaking. He knelt beside her and touched her face. “Cheyenne, are you all right?”
She looked up at him, and even in the dark he could see the tears in her eyes. “You came for me,” she whispered.
He stroked her hair and smiled at her. “I always will, darling. I always will.”
With a little cry she fell against him as her tears began to fall, and he put his arms around her. Behind him the sound of boots pounding on the steps could be heard, and Ben and the other officers appeared as they reached the top of the memorial. Luke sat with his back against the wall and cradled Cheyenne in his arms.
He heard Ben on his cell phone calling for an ambulance, and he looked up at him. “How’s Trace?”
“He’s alive. We’ll get him to the hospital. That was good work, Luke.” He looked down at Cheyenne, who was nestled against him, and smiled. “It looks like it turned out good all the way around. Merry Christmas.”
“And merry Christmas to you, too,” Luke said as he hugged Cheyenne tighter and kissed the top of her head.
He closed his eyes and sat still for a moment as the events of the past few hours replayed in his mind. For a while there he thought his chance at happiness might be coming to an end, but God had watched over them. For the first time in three years Cheyenne was safe. Now they could face the future together.
Tomorrow really was going to be the best Christmas he’d ever had.
* * *
Cheyenne sat in the den with Maggie looking at the pile of presents she’d unwrapped earlier. She’d never seen anyone so excited, and she’d enjoyed watching the child’s eyes light up more as she opened one after another.
She thought back over the day so far, and a warm glow settled over her. They’d started with just the four of them—Dean, Gwen, Maggie and her—coming downstairs to open presents, then indulged in a big breakfast in the kitchen.
Stalking Season Page 16