by LENA DIAZ,
“I know. Looking back, it was stupid. But I didn’t know what else to do. Tracy—” Her voice broke.
“You thought he would kill her if you didn’t do what he told you. You risked your life for her. Whatever happens, you can’t blame yourself. You did what you could.”
She shook her head. “No. I was stupid, too scared to think straight. You don’t make deals with criminals. What I should have done was shove him or something when you came up and yelled a warning.” Her hand shook as she raked her hair back from her face. “You could have been killed.”
He frowned. “Is that why you came looking for me after I chased Tattoo Guy down the trail? You were trying to save me?”
She snorted. “Fat lot of good it did. I just slowed you down. And now you’re all scratched up and out here with me, without a weapon, with a couple of thugs possibly coming after us. I’m such an idiot.”
His warm, strong hand gently urged her chin up so she had to look at him.
She pushed his hand away. “Go ahead. Yell at me. My stupidity has probably gotten my friend killed and nearly got you killed. Every decision I made was wrong. You’d have thought I would have learned better at college.”
“What do you mean?”
“I studied criminal justice, graduated with honors. Not that it means I have any sense. Might as well tear up that piece of paper.”
He frowned. “Aren’t you being a bit hard on yourself? You drove up here because a friend said she needed you. A man chased you with a gun, threatened to kill your friend if you didn’t do what he said. And as soon as you had a chance to escape, instead, you went toward trouble, to help a law enforcement officer you thought was in need. From where I stand, that’s pretty darn amazing.”
She blinked. “What?”
“You have the education, but not the training or the experience. And you’re a civilian, unarmed. You did the best you could. I can’t find fault with any of your decisions.”
“Th...thank you?”
He smiled. “Come on. There are a lot of gaps in your story, like why someone with a criminal justice degree is working part-time as a private investigator.” He tugged her hand, then stopped and looked over his shoulder at her when she pulled back. “Jody?”
“I’m not a private investigator,” she confessed. “And when I tell you the rest, you aren’t going to think I did the best I could or made good decisions. I didn’t.”
He turned to face her. “Go on.”
“Tracy pretty much runs the office. I guess you’d call her an administrative assistant. I help Sam with his cases. But I’m not a licensed investigator, just a recent criminal justice grad trying to get some experience to help me get the job I really want—as a criminal investigator with the prosecutor’s office. But those jobs are few and far between, so I’m working two jobs to make ends meet and trying to get a step up on the competition when the job I want opens up.”
She waved her hand again. “Anyway, my point is that I’m his gofer, his researcher. Sometimes I interview clients and things like that. Sam does all the heavy lifting, and I take care of the grunt work.”
He studied her intently, as if weighing her every word. “So far I’m not hearing any bad decisions or things for you to be worried about.”
She tightened her hands into fists by her sides. “There’s more. I screwed up. I mean, really, really screwed up.” She let out a shaky breath and met his gaze again. “Sam disappeared a week ago. And before you ask, no, it’s not unusual. He’s had a tough time since his wife died of ovarian cancer about a year ago. He hits the bottle too hard. He usually shows up a few days later and will be fine for a while.” She clenched her fists so hard the nails dug into her palms. “We always cover for him when he’s on a binge. Do you understand what I’m telling you? He could lose his license if clients complain that he’s a drunk and messes up cases. And besides that, if he messes up the cases, the income stops rolling in. And, well, Tracy and I both rely on that income. We live paycheck to paycheck. No paycheck means no food, no rent.”
He stared at her intently. “You did more than run errands, didn’t you?”
She nodded. “We may have...pretended to be Sam to some of the clients, through correspondence in the mail...to close out cases, resolve issues.”
“You operated as PIs without a license. You’re worried that you may have committed fraud. Even worse, mail fraud. That’s a felony.”
She winced and looked away.
The silence stretched out between them.
“Jody. There’s more, isn’t there?”
She nodded slowly.
His sigh could have knocked over a tree. “Go on. Might as well tell me the rest.”
She swallowed, then forced herself to meet his gaze. Surprisingly, it wasn’t the cold, judgmental look she’d expected. Instead, he looked at her with something far worse.
Pity.
She stiffened her spine and confessed the rest of her sins.
“Sam is dead. Tracy and I killed him.”
Chapter Six
Adam dropped his chin to his chest and shook his head. If for even one second he thought Jody was telling the truth, he’d have pulled out his second set of handcuffs and Mirandized her. But in spite of her low opinion of herself, she struck him as painfully honest. In the span of a few hours, she’d confessed more to him than most people confessed to their priests. This young woman didn’t know how to lie convincingly, as proven by the fiasco up on the trail. And she’d apologized at least a dozen times in the past few minutes, and meant it. She was riddled with guilt over things she shouldn’t even feel guilty about. No way had she murdered someone.
“Okay,” he said. “Tell me how you two did the dirty deed. Poison? Butcher knife? Machete?”
“Are you seriously making fun of me?”
He raised his head and gave her a baleful glance. “Are you seriously going to try to convince me you murdered someone?”
“Well, not directly, we didn’t. But we might as well have. When Sam disappeared, we should have gone to the police, filled out a missing-persons report and—”
“Which the police would have set aside. They would have told you to give it a few more days because there was no evidence of foul play and your boss has a history of going off on drinking binges.”
She crossed her arms, her mouth drawn into a tight line.
“Am I wrong? You said he disappeared all the time.”
“That’s not fair to Sam. He’s a great man, more of a father to me than my adoptive father ever was. He doesn’t disappear all the time. Just sometimes. And it’s not like I think we should have reported it the first morning he didn’t show up. There was no reason to think anything was wrong. But he’s never been gone a whole week before. We should have done something on day five instead of...of...committing fraud. And then maybe Sam would be okay.”
Everything about her posture and her tone told him she truly felt responsible. And he hadn’t missed the hurt look in her eyes the last time she’d met his gaze. Which was several minutes ago. Now she was staring off into the woods, her pretty face mottled, her jaw tight. She was obviously upset, both because she took the weight of the world on her shoulders and because he’d made light of her claims. She’d really be angry if she knew how hard he was struggling not to laugh, or at least not to smile.
He cocked his head, studying her profile. She’d been through a traumatic experience. Her boss was missing—even though Adam was inclined to think the man would show up alive and well with a wicked hangover. Adam had met Sam Campbell a few times over the years and was well-acquainted with his reputation around town for going on occasional drinking binges—even before his wife’s death. Not that Jody apparently knew that. His employees were trying to hide a secret that wasn’t even a secret.
But Jody’s best friend was really missing. And Tracy Larson was not likely to
show up alive and well. Jody had been chased, threatened, shot at, pulled off a cliff—all in all the kind of morning that would crush most civilians. But here she stood, her back ramrod straight, her mouth compressed into a mutinous line as she glared her hurt feelings at the mountains around them.
And his teasing, his refusal to take her seriously had only added to her burden.
His shoulders slumped. He’d handled this all wrong. He started to apologize but stopped. What was he supposed to say? Sorry I didn’t believe that you could kill someone in cold blood? She seemed so young in so many ways. At twenty-four, she was only six years younger than him. His last girlfriend had been younger, twenty-three. But Brandy had been just as bruised by the world and jaded as he was. The years between them hadn’t mattered. This girl didn’t seem world-weary or jaded and he didn’t get the impression that she realized just how horrible or cruel people could sometimes be.
She crossed her arms, the movement pushing up her small breasts in the delicate, lacy bra that her torn blouse did little to conceal. His body’s reaction to that innocent display surprised him. He could feel himself tightening, heat pulsing through his veins. And he had to admit, now that he really looked at her for the first time since this had all started, there was nothing girlish about her figure.
She was all woman, from her luscious red hair that bounced around her shoulders to the full, pink lips that gave her mouth a pouty, sultry look to her narrow waist that begged for a man’s hands to span its narrow curves. Her legs weren’t long and lean like Brandy’s had been. But on Jody, her short, toned, silky-looking legs were the perfect complement to the rest of her. Even those green glasses on her perky nose were cute. All in all, she was one sexy package. And now that he’d finally noticed, he was cursing himself for the lust that shot through him. Jody needed a protector, not some guy drooling after her.
He forced his gaze back to her face and cleared his throat.
She arched a brow and looked at him in question, the hurt and anger still broadcast in her expression like a neon sign flashing at him. If she ever played poker, she’d lose every round. The art of bluffing was beyond her. Which was, all in all, refreshing. Most people he knew were great liars and couldn’t be trusted. He had a feeling he could trust Jody in any situation, and she wouldn’t let him down.
Maybe it was time he told her that. And confessed his own half-truths he’d tossed out earlier.
“You didn’t sign your boss’s name on anything you mailed, did you?”
She frowned. “No, why?”
“Then it’s unlikely you committed fraud. All you did was manage the office, continue to send your boss’s mail for him, tie up loose ends—stuff administrative assistants do for their bosses every day of the week all over the world. Unless you actually went up to someone and claimed to be a private investigator, you can let that guilt go. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“But—”
“But nothing.” He squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry I didn’t treat your concerns more seriously earlier. You’ve been through a lot, and you’re worried about your boss and your friend. I should have been a better listener and commiserated more.”
She cleared her throat. “Well, maybe. But I was being a bit over-the-top when I said we’d killed Sam. It’s just that I’m really worried about him. I wish I’d done something more when he didn’t show up. Now, with Tracy missing, and that creepy man with the gun thinking Sam had more pictures of him somewhere, I can’t help worrying everything’s connected and both Tracy and Sam are either in real trouble or—”
“Leave the ‘or’ to me, okay? That’s my job, to worry about stuff like that.” He tugged her forward and they started through the woods again. “Let’s focus on getting you to safety and then I’ll work with the local police to start an investigation and search for your friend. If I were a betting man, I’d bet you that Sam is alive and well, passed out on his couch at home. And your friend is alive, too.”
Her hand tightened in his. “You really think so?”
“I do,” he lied, seeing no point in making her even more miserable. “And as long as Tattoo Guy thinks you have something he needs, he won’t hurt Tracy. He needs her as leverage. His threats up on the trail were a complete bluff.”
She stopped, and he did, too, facing her.
“Why do you think it was a bluff?”
“Because he didn’t shoot you. In the parking lot, you said he chased you up the trail, then confronted you. If he’d wanted to kill you, he could have. Instead, he threatened you, threatened your friend’s life, to get you to talk. To tell him where the pictures are that he thinks are floating around somewhere. That’s your bargaining chip. As long as he thinks you have something he needs, he’ll keep Tracy safe as leverage.”
“Then...those were just warning shots? He wouldn’t really shoot us?”
Adam laughed harshly. “Oh no. He’ll kill me the first chance he gets. No doubt. And his type, he’ll hurt you in a heartbeat. Might even try to shoot you in the leg or bust your kneecap to get you to talk. Or worse.” He forced a smile he was far from feeling when he saw the worry in her eyes. “Which is why we don’t want to risk him catching up to us if he wasn’t smart enough to head back to his car and hightail it out of here.”
A deep rumble sounded in the distance.
They both looked up at the sky. Instead of the brilliant blue it had been earlier, it was rapidly turning dark and ominous with heavy rainclouds blowing in to cover the sun.
“A storm’s rolling in. And we aren’t anywhere near the next cell tower yet to radio for someone to get us out of here before the lightning show starts.”
“That’s crazy. There was no hint of an oncoming storm a few minutes ago.”
“Oh, I’m sure there were hints. We were just more focused on watching out for thugs than keeping an eye on the weather.” He studied the terrain around them, then pointed off to the right. “There, see how the mountain forms a natural depression over there? Away from trees or rocks that will conduct electricity? That’s the safest place around here to hunker down when the lightning starts. Won’t keep us dry in the rain, but it’s safer than being under trees or becoming human lightning rods out here in the open like we are now. Let’s go.”
He motioned for her to join him and led her down a steeper descent than they’d been taking before. He hadn’t wanted to risk her twisting an ankle or getting scraped up on the rocks if she lost her footing, so he’d been leading her around the mountain, taking a more gradual slope down toward the valley below. But storms up here could be deadly. There was no time to waste.
Sure enough, her sneakers weren’t up to the task of navigating the rocky path. She wobbled and skittered across some loose stones, her arms flailing as she tried to maintain her balance. He grabbed her waist, steadying her.
“Next time you hike in the mountains, wear some decent shoes,” he teased.
She smiled up at him. And it did crazy things to his breathing.
He swallowed and urged her forward again. The breeze that had kicked up helped cool his body and bring clarity to his thoughts. They really did need to find shelter, fast, or they could get struck by lightning, or even drown in a flash flood if they were crossing one of the dry creek beds when the rains started.
Boom!
Jody looked up at the sky. Adam tackled her, wrapping his arms protectively around her as they both fell to the ground. He heard her gasp of pain when they landed, the breath leaving her in a whoosh as her chin smacked his chest. The back of his head snapped against a rock, practically making his teeth rattle.
She shoved against him. “What was that for? The thunder—”
“It wasn’t thunder. Move, move, move!” He rolled and grabbed her around the waist, yanking her up with him in a crouch.
Boom! Boom!
A chunk of rock exploded inches from Adam’s head.
Jody let out a startled yelp and looked over her shoulder. “Was that—”
“Gunfire!” He shoved her in front of him, shielding her body with his. “Run, Jody. Run!”
Chapter Seven
Chh-chh.
The ominous sound didn’t have to be explained. Jody had heard it dozens of times in action movies. It was the sound of a shotgun being pumped.
Adam was already pulling her to the ground before she could react.
Boom! Chh-chh. Boom!
Leaves and sawdust rained down on them from the tree above. Jody let out a squeak of fear before she could stop herself. She started to push off the ground to run again, but Adam pressed her back down.
He held his fingers to his mouth, signaling her to be quiet, then pointed to his right and motioned for her to precede him.
She nodded to let him know she understood, even though she wanted to yell at him for always making himself a human target to protect her. It wasn’t right, regardless of what his job title might be. But arguing would only make him more of a target as the men pursuing them homed in on the sounds.
Her bare knees screamed in protest as she half crawled, half duckwalked through the woods, behind clumps of bushes and trees, toward another group of boulders. She tried to avoid dried leaves, twigs, anything that could crunch or snap and give away their location. But everything in this half-burned section of the mountains seemed to make noise when she touched it. All she could do was hope the sound didn’t carry to the men chasing them. Their only chance was to give them the slip, find a hiding place and hunker down.
A hand tapped her shoulder. She looked back at Adam. He held up one finger, pointed off to their left and then held his hands out together as if he were holding a shotgun. Her stomach sank, but she nodded in understanding. He held up a finger again and pointed a little farther to the left, almost behind them. This time he held his other hand out, pointer finger extended, thumb raised, in an imitation of a handgun. He must have seen Owen and Tattoo Guy, both closing in on them. One of them had a pistol. How had the other one gotten a shotgun? Had they hidden one in the woods, just in case the threat about Tracy failed? In case Jody managed to escape and they had to give chase?