by LENA DIAZ,
“Are you okay?” he asked again, sitting up.
She nodded. “Thanks to you, I’m fine. But you’re not.” She waved toward the dozens of cuts on his arms, his face. “You took the brunt of the fall to protect me. Why would you do that?”
He frowned as if in confusion. “Why wouldn’t I? It’s my job.”
She shook her head, unable to fathom such selfless thinking. “First-aid kit?”
“Later.” He pushed to his knees and looked up again. “I don’t see our two friends.”
She followed his gaze to the cliff, which seemed impossibly far away. She still couldn’t believe they’d rolled down the mountain and hadn’t gotten killed, or shot, or both. But thankfully the gunmen weren’t standing there, aiming a pistol at them.
“Why aren’t they still up there, trying to shoot us?” she asked. “Maybe they didn’t think we’d survive the drop?” She shivered and wrapped her hands around her waist. “Maybe they’re worried someone heard the shots, so they took off?”
He shook his head. “Unless there are more trespassers ignoring the trail-closed signs, there’s no one else to hear the gunshots. And I don’t see our friends just moseying to their car and heading back where they came from after all the trouble they went to. They’re after something. And they don’t have it yet.” His eyes stared deep into hers, once again darkening with suspicion. “How much motivation do they have, Jody? Enough to figure out a way down that mountain to come after us?”
A cold chill shot through her. She looked up again. But the only thing above them was a bright blue sky and a hawk gliding over the mountaintops.
“Jody? Who were those men? Why are they after you?” He climbed to his feet and helped her stand.
She stepped back so she could meet his gaze without getting a crick in her neck. “You’re bleeding. I really think we should get the first aid kit.” She took another step back.
He grabbed her waist and yanked her to the side. “Haven’t you ever been in the mountains before? Never back up without looking first.”
She glanced over her shoulder and sucked in a breath. The blood seemed to drain from her body, leaving her cold and shaking. Once again, she’d been close to the edge of another drop-off and had nearly plunged over the side.
Swallowing hard, she pressed a shaking hand to her throat. “Thank you. You’ve saved me more times than I can count and we’ve known each other for less than an hour.”
“We need to go.” He put a hand to the small of her back and urged her toward the charred woods to their right.
“Go where? It looks like we’re heading toward another cliff.” She tried to stop, but his hand was firm, pushing her forward.
“We’ll make our own path. We have to. Out here we’re too much in the open.” He held back a branch on a new sapling that had sprouted from the destruction.
They rounded a curve in the mountain, the going steep, treacherous, with loose rocks underfoot. A few yards farther and they were surrounded by trees, half of them scorched but miraculously still standing. Some of them supported canopies of new growth in spite of their blackened trunks. The underbrush had resurged here. Many of the bushes were taller than both of them.
Far below, water gurgled and rushed over boulders. She caught glimpses of it through breaks in the trees. Rocks in the middle of the stream created eddies and little rapids. The artist in her craved a few moments to stand there and gape at the beauty below, to frame it in her mind’s eye like she’d frame a camera shot. But the reality of their situation, and the imposing ranger beside her, had her hurrying as fast as she could manage through the rough terrain.
He took the outside, near the steep drop, using the rise of the mountain as a barrier against her falling over the edge. His gaze was never still. He constantly scanned the woods around them, looking up at the mountain that rose above their heads. His constant vigilance should have made her feel secure. Instead, it only reminded her of the danger they were in.
She finally grabbed one of the saplings they were passing and used it as an anchor in the sea of fear that threatened to pull her under. “Wait.”
He stopped beside her, brows raised in question.
“Your arms—some of the cuts are still bleeding. And they need to be cleaned so they don’t get infected. Do you have medical supplies in your pack?”
“You’re stalling, Jody. We need to get moving.”
She waved a hand toward the trees surrounding them. “Unless those gunmen take a swan dive over a cliff or have billy goat ancestors, I don’t see how they could follow us. It’s too steep and rocky.”
“They don’t have to get too close. They just need one clear shot. Up on the trail, we were jumping over downed trees and weaving around curves. Plus, their adrenaline was probably pumping pretty good. Otherwise they wouldn’t have missed. I don’t want to hang around in one spot and give them a perfect target.”
Her hand tightened around the sapling. “You’re not helping.”
He frowned again. “Helping with what?”
She huffed out an impatient breath. “I’m scared, okay? Right now I’m more afraid of plunging headfirst over a cliff again than some gunmen who may or may not be following us.”
His expression softened. “I wish I didn’t have to force you to keep going. But I don’t see those guys giving up that easily.”
She swallowed. “Why do you say that?”
“Because they thought nothing of trying to shoot a federal officer. Your average thug thinks twice in a situation like that. They don’t want to risk bringing the wrath of the feds down on them. But our guys not only shot at us multiple times, they risked their own lives running up a dangerous trail to do it. My guess is they might lie low for a little while to see whether backup arrives. But not for long. Then they’ll be looking for a way to hike down here and find us.”
He motioned toward the radio hooked to his belt. “I’ve turned this thing on half a dozen times since our flight down the mountain. There’s no signal, not even a burst of static. One of the radio towers was destroyed in the wildfires. What we have to do is get within range of another tower so we can radio for help. Until then, we keep going.” He arched a brow. “Unless you can tell me why those men might decide to hightail it out of here without finishing us off. Just what are they after? Who are they?”
She hesitated.
His jaw tightened. “Jody—”
“I don’t know their names, other than the one calling the other Owen in front of both of us.”
“You’re splitting hairs. Not knowing their full names and not knowing what they want are two very different things. You were arguing with the first man when I approached. He later warned you to remember what he’d told you. What were you arguing about? What did he want you to remember?”
Without waiting for her reply, he pried her hand from the tree and tugged her through the woods.
Her foot skidded on some loose rocks. She let out a yelp, but he grabbed her around the waist and steadied her before she could fall.
“I’ve got you,” he said. “Try not to worry. My boots hold the trail a lot better than your sneakers. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, okay?”
His voice was gentle again. But there was an underlying thread of steel. He wanted answers. And he deserved them. Even if it meant she might go to jail, or at the least, have all her career aspirations ruined. All those years of college, the sacrifices she’d made, the two jobs she was holding down were for nothing. In one stupid week, she’d destroyed it all.
She jerked to a halt, pressing a hand to her throat. “I can’t believe how selfish I’m being, thinking about my future career and prison when Tracy’s missing.” She moved her hand to her stomach. “That’s just the kind of thing my adoptive father would do.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Your career? Pri
son? Wait, who’s Tracy?”
Chapter Five
Jody groaned and whirled around, gagging as she dropped to her knees and emptied the contents of her stomach.
Suddenly a strong arm was around her waist and a gentle hand swept her hair back from her face, holding it loosely behind her as Adam spoke soothing words in her ear. She was too sick and miserable to protest his help. The spasms wouldn’t seem to stop and she started dry heaving.
“Deep breaths,” he said. “Slow, deep breaths. You’ll be okay. Slow and easy.”
Somehow the sound of his voice calmed her. She dragged in a deep breath, then another. The knots in her stomach eased, and she could finally breathe normally without feeling like her stomach was trying to kill her.
Her world suddenly tilted as he scooped her up into his arms. Before she could even ask him what he was doing, he’d set her down several feet away beneath the branches of a thick stand of trees. The realization that he was giving them cover in case the bad guys were around had her stomach clenching with dread. She pressed a hand to her belly.
“This should help.” A bottle of water and a wet cloth appeared as if by magic as he handed them to her from the backpack he’d been carrying.
She rinsed her mouth out and spit. After a long drink, she washed her face with the cloth.
“Better?” He was on his knees in front of her, his brow furrowed with concern.
“Better. Thank you.” She swept her hair back from her shoulders. Heat flushed her skin at the realization of what had just happened. She groaned and covered her face. “I can’t believe you witnessed that. And that you helped me. I’m so embarrassed.”
He tugged her hands down. “Jody, what made you so upset? Who’s Tracy? Is she in trouble?”
She nodded miserably. “I think so. She texted me. That’s why I was on the trail. Well, partly, anyway. I mean, I was in the parking lot. But she wasn’t there, so I checked the bathrooms, and when I came out, that guy was there...and he started toward me. I saw his gun sticking out of his pocket, so I ran. I just ran. Then he was there, on the trail, with the gun—”
“Take a breath.” He took one of her hands in his. “Back up. Who is Tracy?”
A ragged breath shuddered out of her. “My sister.” She waved her hand. “Not a real sister. She’s my friend. My very best friend. I don’t have any biological siblings, just adoptive sisters and brothers. Not that I’m knocking adoptive families in general. I think they can be wonderful, for other people. But it hasn’t turned out so well for me. We don’t exactly visit each other or exchange Christmas cards.” She drew a deep breath. “Tracy is not part of my adoptive family. She’s my friend, my best friend, more of a sister to me than my adoptive sisters ever were. And her family is more of a family to me than my adoptive one.” She closed her eyes and fisted her hands against the tops of her thighs.
“Tattoo Guy, he did something to her? To Tracy?”
She nodded and looked at him. “He abducted her. At least, that’s what he told me. I didn’t know, or I swear I would have called the police. I would never do anything to risk her life.” She pressed her hand to her throat. “I think I may have just killed her. By running, with you. I shouldn’t have done that.” She squeezed her eyes shut again.
“Jody, I need you to be strong. For your friend, okay? I know it’s hard. But you have to hold it together so we can figure out what to do. All right?”
She nodded and opened her eyes. “Okay. I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to apologize for. I’m going to ask you some questions and I need you to give me the answers. Short and to the point. And we need to keep moving while we talk.” He pulled her to her feet. “Can you do that?”
“I’ll try. Yes. I’m sorry.” She grimaced. “I know. Quit saying that.”
He smiled and pulled her with him through the trees. “What’s Tracy’s full name?”
“Larson. Her name is Tracy Larson.”
“Is she your age?”
“Yes. Twenty-four. We went to school together, from grade school through high school. She didn’t go to college. I went to TSU, Tennessee State University, I... Sorry. Short and to the point. I forgot. Sorry.”
“It’s okay. I went to TSU, too. When’s the last time you saw her?”
She patted her pocket to check the time of Tracy’s last text messages on her phone. But her pocket was empty. They all were. “My phone and keys are gone.” She shook her head. “I know. Doesn’t matter. I think the last I heard from her was at work yesterday. She’s full-time. I’m part-time. I left at my usual two o’clock.”
He steered her around a downed tree. “Friday at 2:00 p.m.? You’re sure?”
“Pretty sure. I’m not counting the fake text this morning. The guy with the gun must have sent that. He tricked me.”
“We’ll get to that in a second. Are you sure you didn’t talk to Tracy on the phone after 2:00 p.m.?”
“Talk?”
His mouth quirked up in a smile. “Forgive me. I’m a doddering thirty-year-old who actually uses phones for spoken conversations. Let me rephrase. Did you text each other? Share anything on social media?”
She surprised herself by laughing, which seemed obscene given the situation. She quickly sobered. “Sorry. But the idea of you being described as doddering is ridiculous. Trust me, most women my age would count themselves lucky to be with a guy as smokin’ hot as you.”
Her face flushed with heat as soon as the words left her mouth. She absolutely refused to look at him. “Text, yes, we texted a few times. Nothing seemed out of the norm. Then, this morning, I got a new text from her saying she needed to meet me, that it was urgent. She said she’d be waiting in the parking lot at the Sugarland Mountain trailhead. I went to the visitor center, and her car wasn’t there. I texted her to ask where she was, and she said in the parking lot on the other end of the trail, not the visitor center. So I headed there. Only, when I got there, her car wasn’t there, either.”
Tears burned the backs of her eyes, but she refused to give in to the urge to cry again. She swallowed against her tight throat and continued. “There were a couple of cars besides mine on the other side of the lot. One of them was a minivan with a family and kids. I didn’t see anyone in the other car, a black Charger. Not then. The family went to use the public facilities by the beginning of the trail. Tracy texted back that she’d be there in a few minutes and to wait. I ducked into the restroom, chatted with some of the people from the minivan. They left before me. When I came out, they were just pulling out of the parking lot. That’s when he got out of the car.”
“Who? The guy with the tattoos?”
“Yes. I started toward my car, then stopped. He was walking really fast, straight toward me. But there wasn’t anyone else around. And the men’s restrooms were on the other side of the lot. There was no reason for him to be hurrying toward me. I don’t know how to explain it. But he gave me the creeps, and he was between me and my car. I didn’t want to let him get too close. So I walked toward the trail. I looked over my shoulder, and that’s when I saw the gun.” She swallowed. “He had a pistol sticking out of his pants pocket. I ran. I hopped over the cattle gate blocking the trail and took off. And he took off after me.”
“Did he fire the gun?”
She frowned. “No. No, he never did. Not until you and I were running up the trail later.”
He nodded as if that made sense to him. “Go on. You ran. Then what happened?”
“I used to run track in high school. I was pretty fast. But I’m not used to running up mountains or having to hop over downed trees. I couldn’t sprint and pull away like I would in a flat footrace. He caught up to me right where you saw us. And he...he pointed his gun at me. And he...” She drew a ragged breath.
“You’re doing great, Jody. Slow, deep breaths. What did he do next? What did he say to you?”
As much a
s she wanted to be strong for her friend, she was having a hard time holding back her terror. What was happening to Tracy right now? What had that man done to her? Was she even alive or had he lied to her?
“Jody. What did the man do when he caught you on the trail?” He steered her around a particularly rocky section and past some thorny shrubs.
She murmured her thanks and straightened. She could do this. She had to. For Tracy’s sake. “He told me I had something of his and he wanted it. He said if I didn’t give it to him, he would...he would kill Tracy.” In spite of her efforts to stay calm, tears tracked down her cheeks. “He had her phone, showed it to me. That’s how I knew he was telling the truth. He must have texted me to meet him there, pretending he was her. No way could he have gotten her phone without taking it from her. That thing is practically attached at her hip.”
He pulled her to a halt and grasped her shoulders. “What do you have that he wants?”
“I don’t have anything. I swear. He insisted I have pictures, maybe a video, or knew where they were. He said my boss had seen something he shouldn’t have and that there was a gap in the time stamps on the pictures.”
“Your boss?”
“Sam Campbell. He’s a private investigator. Tracy and I work for him.” She looked away, panic swelling inside her again. She’d been so stupid. So very, very stupid.
“You know what he’s after, don’t you?” The thread of steel was back in his voice.
She glanced up at him and wiped at the tears on her cheeks. “Not specifically, no. I assume that Sam performed surveillance on him, that he’s one of Sam’s clients. But all of Sam’s pictures and videos are locked up at the office. I told him that. He shook his head, said that he’d searched there already. That’s when we heard you whistling. He told me to keep my mouth shut, that Tracy would die if I told you anything.”
His eyes widened. “You lied to me up on the trail to get me to leave you two alone, knowing he had a gun? If I’d bought your story, you would have been all alone with him. He could have killed you.”