It was agreed. Kerr would stay with their dad in case anyone came to the ranch or called. The youngest Taggart had protested remaining in the house, but Garrison insisted. Whatever was going on with their father, he shouldn’t be left alone.
Several minutes later, Shelby, Eric, and Garrison saddled and mounted the horses.
“All right. Which way, Shel?” Garrison asked.
She tugged the zipper of her synthetic search-and-rescue jacket up to her chin and exhaled vapor. Bowing her head with another wince, she pointed into the snowy night.
“That way.”
Chapter 22
Hank had left her to die.
After he had tied her arms up and left her to stand on tiptoes, dangling by the hook in the middle of the shack, Sara had expected horrible things to occur. She had a good idea what he was capable of as she watched Zach stumble away.
So when he secured her to the roof beam, she anticipated his next move. Would he beat her up? Gut her with a knife? Rape her?
Then he’d left.
Every so often, she caught his muffled voice and crunching footsteps as he paced near the cabin. Each time his voice rose, her heart thudded faster and harder.
Okay, so Hank had lost his mind. Sure, a year ago he’d had an edge to him, but he had acted like a generally decent guy right up until they broke up. Today’s Hank barely resembled that man.
She caught a few muttered words. “Great One” and “make the blade,” but she had no idea what that meant.
Might never know.
Poor Zach. Anything could happen to an eight-year-old. Animals could attack him, leaving him bleeding in the wilderness. What if he fell and broke a leg? To say nothing of hypothermia. Did he lie in the snow now, lost and frozen?
She had to figure out how to get out of here or at least get a message to Garrison.
Or die trying.
Anyone searching wouldn’t know where to look and wouldn’t easily find the trapper shack, especially with the small forest roads quickly becoming impassable in the early winter storm. No one would get to her location until spring.
No need to worry about spring. No way would she last that long.
Garrison would be sick with worry. He’d tear up the countryside looking for his son, but by the time anyone found Zach, it would be too late.
What about her? No one knew that she had gone missing. No one would check up on her tonight.
Her eyes burned. No. She would not break down.
Why not? What would it matter if she lost it and started crying?
It wouldn’t.
God, her arms burned. Her hands had lost circulation a while ago, and her legs quivered with the effort to remain upright. Her cold, numb feet barely touched the ground, and to take pressure off her arms, she had to stand on tiptoes. When her calves cramped and she lowered her heels, her shoulders and arms ached, bearing most of her weight.
Hank might be outside talking and taking a stroll now, but at some point, that would change. She twisted her wrists, trying anything to free herself from the ropes. The cords didn’t budge. Damn.
The muttering outside stopped. Silence.
Footsteps crunched close by, then stopped at the door.
Her heart leapt. Maybe someone had come to get her out of here. Maybe it wasn’t Hank.
The door creaked open.
“Time for some fun.”
His leer lit up his entire face in a sick glow.
• • •
“Come on, Shel. We’ve got to move faster.” When Garrison tensed, his horse shied sideways.
“Lay off, man,” Eric said from the horse behind him. “Whatever she’s doing is hurting her. I can’t believe you’re making your own sister do this.”
“I have no choice,” he said, his jaw tight, neck muscles tensed to the breaking point. “What else can I do?”
Eric gestured toward Shelby, her groans audible as she fought to maintain control of her power. Garrison knew how much the prolonged use of her ability hurt. She’d returned from search-and-rescue missions completely wrecked by headaches. But she always found her lost hiker or climber. Always.
Sometimes even found the missing person alive.
Which was why he was betting everything he had on her skill. His sister was Zach’s only hope.
Full dark had fallen, replaced by a rising moon in cloudy skies. At least the heavy snow had faded to flurries. Every second that ticked away was a second closer to death for Zach and Sara. As for Shelby? A few Tylenols and a nap and she would be fine. He hoped.
Zach and Sara might not okay, though, if he didn’t hurry.
He’d push his sister’s psychic ability to the limit, if it meant finding his son and ...
What was Sara to him?
Girlfriend? They really hadn’t dated.
Lover? Too harsh.
He would give her no label. Couldn’t. Not now.
“Shel. Anything?” He tried to temper his voice to be less demanding. But he gritted his teeth and glanced at his watch again. Damn it. Almost 7 p.m. It had taken way too long to get out there.
Neither Zach nor Sara had coats. How long could someone last out in the elements without warm clothing?
The three of them guided their horses deep into the forest, where the terrain became steeper. Picking a line up the slopes that the horses could manage had become challenging.
Was Shelby even pointing them in the correct direction?
“Yeah. We’re going the right way.” She coughed, a harsh, raking sound, pressed her hand to her chest, and then cried out and grabbed her forehead beneath her hat.
Eric nudged his horse near Shelby’s and scowled at Garrison.
Couldn’t help it. Garrison needed to find his kid. Needed to find Sara.
Needed to kill a certain rancher.
“Can you sense both of them?” Garrison asked.
“No. I’m locked into Zach.” Kneeing the horse to a slightly different angle, she led them toward a thick, dark stand of trees. “Oh my Lord, he’s really cold, Garrison. His legs hurt, feet are numb. Good God.” Her shoulders slumped, and she grabbed the pommel to stay in the saddle.
“Geezus.” Eric put a hand out to keep her on the horse. “Stop making her do this.”
“No. We have to get to him soon. Keep going. I can tell what he’s feeling,” she said.
By the time her voice reached Garrison, it was a mere thread of sound, and it took him a second to process what she’d revealed.
“Wait a minute, Shelby. What did you just say?”
“I said ... Zach is cold. And ... he’s scared.” Her wheezes were getting worse.
“How do you know?” Garrison’s blood froze in his veins.
“Damn it, I don’t know. I just know he’s cold.”
“Before, could you ever tell what your target felt?”
“Yeah, no. Oh, wow. This might be something new.” She rubbed her gloved fingers, like they had suddenly become cold. “Whatever is happening is definitely weird, but we’ll deal with it later. Let’s find your kid.”
“I’m right behind you,” Garrison said.
Stiffening as she looked around, she said, “Hey, guys. Something’s not right out here. I don’t know what, but it feels off.”
“Like, with Vaughn?” Garrison asked. Everyone in the family knew the oldest Taggart sibling could detect danger.
She coughed. “Not exactly danger. Well, yes ... I don’t know. No. The feeling is just ... wrong.”
Eric muttered something about this being bullshit and drew his gun as his horse followed hers. His head swiveled from side to side, scanning the woods.
Garrison wanted to do the same and watch for danger, but he could only stare ahead, into the darkness, imagining that every shadow was his son.
Was Sara with Zach? God, he hoped so.
Shelby’s wheezes punctuated the crunch of hooves in snow and wind in the upper branches of the trees. Maybe she’d go faster if Garrison moved closer to her?
Eric’s rigid posture warned him off. For now, Garrison would trail his sister and trust her instincts.
With a gurgled cry, she slid off the horse.
Eric vaulted down and grabbed her upper arm, ignoring her attempts to wave him off.
“What?” Garrison said.
As she crumpled to her knees in the deep snow, slowed by Eric’s grip, she pointed to a dark shape next to a tree.
“There.”
Chapter 23
Garrison’s pulse pounded in his head as he ran twenty feet and crouched down next to a huddled, motionless form.
His heart stopped.
“Zach? Buddy?”
He pulled his son into his lap and cradled his head. Zach murmured and raised his arm. Alive.
Holy shit, his son was alive. But was he injured? Sick? Would he survive?
“Dad?” That incredulous whisper was imprinted on his soul forever.
Helped by Eric, Shelby staggered over and knelt down as well.
At her instruction, Eric yanked Shelby’s saddle off, and she brought the horse-warmed saddle pad to tuck around Zach.
“Hi, Zach Attack.” Her smile, bright in the icy moonlight, contrasted with the circles under her eyes.
“Auntie Shelby?”
“Anything hurt?” Shelby ran her hands over him, using her EMT skills.
“Tired. Can’t feel my feet.”
“We’ll get you home, buddy.” Garrison had to force the words out around the lump in his throat.
He clutched his son to his chest, holding on like Zach was a life preserver and Garrison about to go under for the last time.
Shelby’s hand on his shoulder kept Garrison’s anger in check. “He needs warmed up, pronto. Maybe frostbite on his feet. We’ll take him to the hospital,” she said.
“Okay.” He searched the area around them. Nothing moved. No sounds. No one else around. Sweat popped out on his forehead. “Zach, where’s Ms. Lopez?”
“Back there.” He pointed with a shaky finger.
Garrison peered into the dense forest that pushed into mountains. Out there? “How far? Was she with you?” Was she lying in the snow as well?
“No, she stayed at the little house,” Zach said.
Maybe his son was confused from the hypothermia. No one lived out here. “What house?”
“Mr. Hank’s house.” He whispered, “He’s not nice, Dad.”
“Did he hurt you?” With effort, Garrison kept his voice low and even.
Shelby flinched and bit her lip as she drew the pad farther around Zach.
Eric froze in his vigilant stance, head cocked toward them, his hand still on his gun.
“Mr. Hank tied me to a chair until Ms. Lopez came to get me.”
“What?” Garrison gritted out.
“When she got to the house, Mr. Hank let me go. He told me to keep walking until I got home.”
Above them, Eric stared. “Geezus.”
Shelby gasped.
Son of a bitch. “Did Hank hurt Ms. Lopez?”
“He yelled at her and hit her and made her cry.”
Garrison’s hearing faded as his vision blurred. He needed to get to her. Now. He would make sure Hank couldn’t threaten anyone else ever again. As a bonus, he’d love to make certain Hank couldn’t walk or talk again, either.
But Zach needed him, too. His son wasn’t out of the woods yet. He might still need medical help.
Damn it all to hell. Too many plates spinning. He stood up, clutching his son in his arms.
“Garrison.” Shelby startled him out of his black thoughts. “We’ll take Zach back to the ranch and then on to the hospital.”
“What about your saddle?”
“Not the first time I’ve ridden bareback. It’ll be fine.”
Eric holstered the gun. “We’ll take good care of him. But we have to go now.” He darted another glance into the woods. “I don’t like any of this weird situation.”
“Shel, can you get a direction for Sara?”
“Geezus, man, she’s done enough.” Eric glared at him, gesturing toward Shelby’s slumped shoulders. “This ... radar shit ... isn’t good for her.”
When Eric held out his hand, she took it this time, a testament to how bad she felt. Squaring her shoulders, she turned toward Zach, who rested in Garrison’s arms.
“All right, Zach Attack, one more question, then we’re going home and getting you warmed up. Did you walk in a straight line?”
“Tried to.”
Dropping her forehead into the palm of her hand, his sister sighed. When she looked up at him, tight lines around her mouth and eyes spoke to the extraordinary stress Garrison had placed on her. And he wasn’t done being a shitty brother.
“Okay. That makes it easier.” Shelby fished a compass and flashlight out of her pocket. She mumbled, “Sara,” and held out an arm as she turned in a quarter arc in the general direction Zach indicated. With a whimper, she stopped when her body snapped to a fixed position, and she held still while she spun the compass direction arrow into position. “Got it. That way.” She handed it to Garrison. “Oh man.” A whimper escaped her lips.
“What?” he yelled.
“Oh, God. Pain. So much pain and fear. Cold, numb ... please, no. Ahh.” She dropped to the snow, limp.
“Shelby?” Eric knelt and pulled her boneless body up to his chest. “Dude, she’s out. When is enough, enough?”
Another minute of Eric chafing her arms, and Shelby woke up, grabbing her head. “Ow. Damn it all to hell.”
“Sorry, Shel,” Garrison said.
“You couldn’t ... help it,” she gasped, staggering to her feet with Eric’s help.
“You two okay to get back home?” Garrison asked, shifting Zach’s weight in his arms.
“Possibly. No thanks to you.” Eric glared as he held on to Shelby’s upper arm.
Her face turned eerie in shadow, like a ghost. “Go find Sara. She needs you.”
“Will do.”
Eric’s grim smile stretched his face too thin. “Try not to do anything stupid.”
“No promises.” Second order of business after finding Sara involved committing a felony, and Garrison cared exactly zilch about any repercussions.
“Call when you’ve got a location. We’ll send the police.” Eric said.
Thumbing his phone on and off, Garrison shrugged. “No signal out here.”
“I can go with you,” Shelby offered.
“No!” both Eric and Garrison said.
She frowned. “Fine. Help me up, jerks. Let’s get out of here.”
Eric boosted her onto her horse.
“Hand me the saddle, Eric. I’m taking it back with me.”
“Why can’t you just ride on the saddle without the blanket?”
“It’ll rub Bob raw.”
“You’re worried about the damn horse?” he sputtered.
“Don’t listen to him, Bob.” She petted the neck of her horse as the animal jiggled the bit. “This is my baby, and I will not rub sores on him.”
Eric looked about ready to throw his hat into the woods. “Geezus. Then we’ll come back for the saddle. It’s over an hour to the ranch.”
Shelby’s glare could be classified as a lethal weapon. “Like hell we’re coming back for it. It’s was a gift from Dad. I’m taking it back with me.”
Eric looked to the night sky and shook his head as he handed her the saddle. She clutched the leather in a big, awkward bundle in front of her.
Garrison wanted to hang on to his son forever and never let him go. But no way would he expose his son to more violence. Plus, Zach needed medical attention.
“Yeah. Good luck with her.” Garrison tilted his head toward a pissed-off Shelby as he passed Zach up to Eric. “Take care of my boy, please.”
“Will do.”
“Love you, son.” Garrison swallowed another lump in his throat.
Zach sagged as Eric held him securely in his arms. His son, covered by the saddle pad, had nodded o
ff.
Shelby waved. “Be careful, please.”
“Thank you, sis.”
Hopefully, his son’s ordeal was over.
But Sara was still in hell.
Swinging up into the saddle, Garrison faced in the direction of the compass arrow and followed the general direction of Zach’s footprints in the snow.
“I’ll be fine,” he murmured. “Can’t say the same about Hank, though.”
• • •
Hank paced in circles around Sara, his breathing harsh. The shape of his face danced and changed as he passed in front of the lantern, but his wide eyes never left her. With deft wrist movements, he flicked a knife in front of him.
Open.
Closed.
Open.
Closed.
Like the tick of a bomb timer, counting down the seconds.
Cold had long since permeated her bones until every inch of her body felt like solid ice. Shivering hurt her shoulders too much, so she tried to suppress the urge. When she tried to wiggle her toes, she no longer could tell if they moved or not.
Hank came to a halt directly in front of her and grabbed her chin.
“It’s been two hours since he left. You think that little boy is still alive?” he sneered.
Her jaw ached beneath his pincer grip. “Damn you, Hank.” Her tears created tracks of heat on her cold cheeks.
“Big question is: will lover boy find us before you die, too?” The pressure on her face increased. “My opinion? No one knows where we are. No one knows you’re missing. No one cares. And you told Romeo to take a hike.” Hank snickered. “Maybe when you don’t make it to work tomorrow, someone will realize you’re gone. Even then, they might just think you’re a slacker.”
“Why are you doing this, Hank?” Maybe she could keep him talking. Stall for time.
But it only delayed the inevitable.
He shoved her face back, and she lost her footing, which yanked at her upraised shoulders. She bit her lip, refusing to scream. Refusing to give him the satisfaction.
“Why am I doing this, lover? For so many reasons. Garrison had what should have been mine. Something wonderful. I finally took it from him, but it was already spoiled.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You wouldn’t.” He patted her hip, and she flinched. Hank chuckled. “I’ve hated him for as long as I can remember. He’s always had the best of everything: land, luck, women. I’m sick and tired of being second place to Garrison Taggart.”
Legacy of Lies Page 18