by Cynthia Eden
“Guess you better take that,” Asher said.
Wyatt shot him another fuming glare but started marching for his car. As he left, Asher heard him say, “You know better than to call me now. What the hell do you want?”
The deputy climbed into his car, slamming the door shut behind him.
Asher tilted his head, studying the deputy. That was a man who seemed to have a few secrets. Since Wyatt had been so determined to uncover his past . . .
Perhaps I’ll see what secrets you carry, Deputy.
Deputy Wyatt Bliss tightened his hold on his phone. “I am on duty today. This shit had better be important.”
“It is,” he was assured. “Remember that deal I offered you?”
He knew exactly who his annoying caller was. A reporter he shouldn’t have been talking with—not at all. But when he’d been tossing Richard Spawn’s ass out of Bailey’s yard a few weeks ago, the reporter had made him an offer . . .
Talk to me about the case, and I can make it worth your while.
He’d never been on the take in his life. Always played the game true blue but . . .
Five thousand dollars. Just for information. You’ll remain anonymous, I promise. And it’s not like you’ll be hurting anyone. Just giving me access to case files that connect to a dead man.
Where was the crime there?
So . . . he’d done it. Fucking hell, he’d made copies of all the files and given them to the reporter.
“I just wanted to let you know how much I’ve enjoyed our little relationship,” Richard murmured.
It was hard to hear the bastard. In the mountain, cell service was a tricky bitch. Sometimes, it was perfect, even if you were in the woods. Other times, you could be in the middle of town and have nothing.
“If you get any more little . . . nuggets about Bailey or about the case, I do hope you’ll pass them on to me.”
For a minute, Wyatt thought about Asher Young. What he’d learned about that bastard.
“Is there something else?” Static crackled over the line.
“Fuck off,” Wyatt snapped. “Don’t call me again.” He ended the call. Drove faster. He’d made a mistake with Spawn. A mistake that had better not come to light. If it did, he could kiss being sheriff good-bye.
What in the hell was I thinking?
Sweat dripped down his forehead. He’d fucked up. He’d just thought . . .
It won’t hurt anyone. The case is closed. Those files don’t matter.
It won’t hurt anyone.
So why the hell did it feel so wrong?
The waterfall was absolutely freaking gorgeous.
Hannah held on to her camera but dropped her pack as she headed closer to the cascading water. This area was everything that the travel guides had said—truly the land of waterfalls. They were everywhere. And this one was incredible. Spilling down from so high above, a rainbow sprouted at the waterfall’s base. She edged closer, her feet dipping into the water because she wanted to get a great shot of this place.
But her boot skidded on the rocks. The algae there had made the rocks too slippery and she staggered, nearly going down. Hannah desperately tried to keep her camera up—
A man’s hard hand locked around hers. He steadied her and stopped her stumbling fall toward the rocks. Spray from the waterfall fell onto her.
And him.
Her gaze flew to his. His eyes twinkled in a handsome face. And—
He smiled.
A killer smile.
“You should be more careful,” he told her, still holding tightly to her hand. “A fall like that could really have hurt you.”
She hadn’t realized that he was there. Actually, she hadn’t thought anyone was out there with her. Before she’d headed for the waterfall, Hannah had looked behind her because she’d thought she’d heard a twig snap. No one had been there.
“Thank you,” she told him, making sure to keep her voice flat. Sure, he was a good-looking guy, but she was out in the wilderness, by herself, and suddenly, the memory of all those terrible news stories flashed through her mind.
Death Angel.
He was dead, though; everyone knew that. She was safe.
But I still know better than to flirt with a stranger out here.
“Let me help you to steadier ground,” he murmured, flashing that smile again. Such a friendly smile. One that said, I’m safe.
She eased off the rocks and back onto dry land.
And he let go of her hand.
Hannah swallowed. “I should put the camera back in my pack.” She bent toward the pack, then stopped, realizing that the man who stood just a few feet away—he didn’t have a pack with him. “You . . . you live around here?” She knew cabins dotted the area, so maybe he was staying in one of them. Not her style. This trip was all about roughing it for her.
Hannah tucked the camera inside her bag. And maybe . . . maybe her fingers slid toward the pepper spray she’d packed, just as a precaution.
Behind her, he laughed. “No, not me. I just parked down the way at the trailhead. Heard that if you hiked up about two miles, you could see one of the most beautiful waterfalls that God ever created.”
She glanced back at him. He looked a bit embarrassed as he added, “Though I should have planned ahead and at least grabbed the water bottle from my car. Guess you can tell I’m a first timer at this, huh?”
Her shoulders relaxed a bit. “Don’t feel so bad. It’s my first time out here, too.” He’s not the Death Angel. Every man you meet isn’t a killer. Despite what her mother had always told her about strangers. Instead of reaching for her pepper spray, Hannah pulled out her bottle of water. “Want some?”
His gaze darted to her water. “Nah, I can’t take a lady’s water. Wouldn’t be the right thing to do.”
She was warming up to the guy. “You saved me from a bad fall. It’s the least I can do.” A smile tilted her lips as she headed toward him, the bottle offered in her outstretched hand. “Go ahead. I insist.”
He took the bottle. His fingers slid over hers. “Thanks.”
And she’d done her good deed for the day. A good deed, for a handsome hero.
“You out here all alone?” he asked her.
At that question, some of that warm, safe glow she’d started to feel vanished. No matter how cute he might be, she wasn’t going to spill that, yes, she was hiking by herself. Did she look like an idiot? “No, my friends are circling back to join me,” she lied. “They were scouting ahead.”
He nodded. “Beautiful area. Maybe they’ll find some more falls for you to photo.”
She hadn’t managed to photo this waterfall yet.
“Better get going back to my car. Nice to meet you, Ms. . . .?”
“Hannah.” She only gave her first name. “Just Hannah.”
He offered her the water back. “Thanks for the drink.” His fingers touched the side of his forehead in a little salute. “Hope you and your friends have a good time out here.”
She nodded. Her hold tightened on the water bottle as she watched him walk away. A few moments later, he disappeared behind the trees. Her breath expelled in a long, relieved rush.
Just a nice stranger. Someone else here to see the killer view. Get a grip, woman.
She put the water back in her pack and pulled out her camera. She was going to get these shots, and she was going to be one hell of a lot more careful about it this time. The water poured down from the falls, and the rainbow seemed ever bolder and more brilliant. She inched closer to the water, making sure not to get on those rocks . . .
Snap. Zoom. Snap. So she wasn’t some kind of award-winning photographer. These pictures were still awesome. She’d put them on her wall and always remember her weekend. The time she got to break loose and just—
“Liar.” The whisper came from right behind her.
Hannah yelled and jerked around, but something hit her. He hit her, slamming his fist into the side of her face. She fell back, tripping and sliding, and wh
en she went down, her temple crashed into the side of those sharp rocks. Pain exploded in her head and for a moment, everything around her went dark.
I can’t pass out. I can’t.
She blinked, blearily, and he was crouched above her. That same harmless smile was on his face. I’m safe.
“You don’t have any friends coming.” He had picked up her camera. He started snapping pictures, of her. “I’ve been watching you. I know you’re all alone. Poor Hannah. Poor, lying Hannah.”
Her head wasn’t just hurting, it seemed to be splitting open, and nausea rolled in her stomach. Bile built in her throat and she heaved.
He laughed and snapped more pictures. “Easier than I thought.” His teeth flashed with that wide grin. “Told you . . . the rocks were dangerous. Now you’ve gone and had a terrible fall.”
Her hands flew out. She managed to grab one of those rocks, she lifted it toward him, wanting to bash in his head.
But he caught her wrist. Squeezed it hard—so hard she thought her wrist might shatter. Maybe it had shattered.
The rock fell.
“You’re going to help me, Hannah,” he told her. “You’re going to help make sure that everyone remembers.”
“H-help!” Hannah tried to scream. But the cry didn’t seem loud enough. The falls were thundering behind her. They were loud. Maybe that was why she hadn’t heard him come back up behind her.
The falls . . .
He’d put down her camera and now he lifted her up against him.
“H-help . . .”
Smiling, he slammed her back down—hard—and the back of her head pounded into the rocks.
Chapter Five
Once upon a time, Bailey had loved to camp. She’d grown up with the mountains as her backyard. Heading into the Blue Ridge Mountains, hunting waterfalls—those had been her favorite pastimes growing up. She’d spent countless hours out there with her parents.
Now she was breaking out into a cold sweat as she pulled on the backpack and walked away from her car. Her teeth were chattering, even though it was plenty warm out there. The heat of summer had faded, but fall was only whispering in the air. The leaves would turn soon, and the area would be gorgeous.
Too bad she didn’t see the beauty of the place. Fear stopped that. The thick, hard fear that was nearly choking her. And if the knots in her stomach got much worse . . . I’ll be vomiting all over Asher.
“You okay?” Asher asked as he marched closer to her.
He didn’t look nervous. She doubted it was possible for him to appear anything but ruggedly capable and ready.
“If you’re not up to this . . .”
“I am.” She absolutely would not back down. Bailey took a moment to needlessly adjust the straps of her backpack and to suck in a deep, bracing breath. “I’m fine, don’t worry about me.” She wasn’t going to crumble apart on him.
This was good for her, being out here. Her shrink, Dr. Leigh, would probably say that she was confronting her fears or some crap like that. Taking her life back.
You need to see that the monster isn’t out there any longer, Bailey. He’s gone. You have control of your life again. Those had been her shrink’s words at their last appointment. An appointment over a month ago. Bailey hadn’t been back.
Mostly because she couldn’t rid herself of the notion that the shrink was wrong. The monster was out there. Waiting.
“We should hike toward the remains of the cabin.” Asher had turned away from her as he spoke. “When night falls, I want to be able to see exactly what our missing woman might have witnessed. If you’re trapped in the dark, human instinct is to go toward the first light that you see.”
“There aren’t any other cabins close by.”
“Distances are deceptive at night. Maybe she saw a light and thought it was closer than it really was. Could be she got herself lost.”
She fell into step beside him as they headed away from the lot. They’d only packed enough gear and supplies for two nights. Asher was carrying her tent, a two-person tent, and she wasn’t even going to think about the fact that they’d be sharing that little space later.
At least, she wasn’t going to think about it too much.
They started on the trail that would take them to that charred shell of a cabin. Asher led the way and she was glad. That way, he couldn’t see her expression as they trekked out.
He had a pack, too. An extra one that she’d had at her place. He’d insisted on carrying all the food and shouldering as many of the supplies as possible. The guy didn’t show any signs of strain as he hiked. In fact, she was having to hurry a bit in order to keep up with him.
Birds chirped overhead, and the leaves around her were starting to turn into brilliant fall shades. Orange. Red. Fall had always been her favorite time to hit the trails, and she even had a favorite waterfall that she liked to visit just a few miles to the east . . .
“May I ask you a few more questions?” His voice drifted back to her. “About that night?”
She’d figured this part would come, sooner or later.
“I read through all the files,” Asher continued. “And one thing nags at me.”
One thing?
“You said you pulled off his ski mask.”
Her hands clenched into fists, and for a second, Bailey could imagine the feel of that soft cloth beneath her hands. “I did.”
“So what did he look like? There was no description of the attacker in the files I got.”
A lump had risen in her throat. She had to swallow a few times before she could say, “There was. A description, I mean. He was about your height. Muscled. Solid. Caucasian.”
“Those are all facts you learn without taking off his mask. What did his face look like, Bailey? When you ripped off the mask . . .” He kept walking ahead of her. The sun was dipping into the sky. “What did he look like?”
Her eyes squeezed shut. “I don’t know.” She wished that she did. Whenever she tried to see him in her mind, her head seemed to splinter. A terrible pain burst in her temples. And there was just . . . nothing. Darkness where a face should be.
“Bailey . . .”
“I don’t, okay?” Now she was snapping at him; so what? Her eyes opened and she glared at his bouncing pack. “You think I haven’t tried to remember. I can see my hand—reaching for that black ski mask. I can feel it beneath my fingers. But when I try to picture him, I can’t.” Her laughter was bitter. “Probably because he was trying to choke the life out of me at the time and everything around me was going dark. Maybe I never saw his face at all. He was busy crushing my windpipe and giving me this lovely new voice that I have.” Sarcasm was heavy in said voice.
Asher stopped hiking. He turned toward her. His face was such a mixture of emotions—surprise. Rage.
“Didn’t realize it?” Most people didn’t. “This isn’t the voice I had pre-attack. I can barely get it above this level.” And even though she was straining to speak as clearly as possible, her voice still sounded husky and low to her ears. “The docs said that I’m lucky to be able to speak at all because of the pressure he applied. That’s why I couldn’t call out when Wyatt and the other deputies finally came to me. The Death Angel had taken my voice away.”
A muscle jerked along Asher’s jaw. “It’s a good thing the bastard is dead.”
But it was too bad that he kept haunting her.
“I wish I could remember. Every single day, I wish that I could see his face. But I can’t. There’s no face to go with the monster in my mind.” She wet her lips and saw his gaze follow that nervous movement. Another habit—thanks to her captivity, she’d been so freaking dehydrated. She found herself still feeling that way. Dr. Leigh had said it was some kind of shadow aftereffect. Whatever. “We should keep going,” she said, trying to sound brisk. She didn’t want a pity party. So, yes, her voice was broken. Her body was scarred. The last thing she needed was for Asher to start looking at her like some poor little victim, especially when she liked it when
he looked at her with desire in his eyes.
“You want to lead the way?” Asher asked her. “You know this area better than I do.”
“Sure.” She adjusted the straps on her bag and brushed past him. The man always felt so incredibly warm. His heat seemed to reach out to her, and Bailey was so tempted to reach right back to him.
What would he do, she wondered, if she did stop? If she put her hands around his shoulders. If she rose onto her toes and kissed him?
It had been so long since she’d known passion with a man. He was the first to make her desire again.
But . . .
Bailey didn’t stop. She walked past him, her gaze straight ahead. Her pace remained steady as she made her way back to that hell site, and all too soon, she was there at the cabin—what was left of it, anyway—and the sun was setting just over the mountain, bathing the whole area in a reddish gold light.
“What now?” Bailey asked as she turned to look around.
“Now, we wait. Once the darkness comes, then we’ll see just what our missing victim saw.”
But what if they saw nothing at all?
Hannah’s eyes flew open and terror immediately burst through her. He hurt me. He attacked me!
She wasn’t at the waterfall any longer. She was tied, lying facedown, and trapped on some smelly old bed. Her hands were secured to the headboard and her feet were bound together at the ankles. The rough rope bit into her skin.
Reddish sunlight trickled through a dirty window and her head craned toward it. “Help!” Hannah yelled. “Someone . . . help me!”
That crazy jerk at the waterfall had kidnapped her. And her head—jeez, her head hurt so much. She remembered falling and slamming into the rocks, but she had no clue what had occurred after that. How far had they traveled? Where had they traveled to?
“Help!” She screamed at the top of her lungs, her throat hurting from the effort and her head throbbing in pain. Hannah yanked on the ropes, but they wouldn’t give. This couldn’t happen to her. It shouldn’t happen to her. “He—”