by Cassie Miles
Her voice was breathless. “I don’t know if you can hear me. I lost my earpiece. I’m on the opposite side of the ridge. Trying to get back.”
Other voices came through the headset. Two of the other agents had been shot. Only one was left with transportation.
“Call for backup,” Dash instructed.
“I’ll come get you,” said the one guy with his bike still intact.
“No,” Dash said. “He’ll pick you off. Stay back.”
Good advice. The smart move would be to lie still and let Russell think he was dead. Wait for the backup to arrive. But Cara was up on that ridge. Alone with a madman.
Slowly, Dash turned onto his stomach. He pulled off the helmet that had probably saved his life when he’d hit the ground like a ton of bricks. When he tried to stand, a sharp pain in his left ankle took his breath away. He reached down and felt the swelling. The bone didn’t seem broken but this was one hell of a sprain.
He could handle it. He needed to get to Cara.
She huddled inside a narrow crevice. The rough sandstone chafed her hand. If she could get back up to the top of the ridge, she might find Dash and the other agents.
Though she’d heard gunfire, she didn’t want to think about what might have happened. She peeked out. The last glimmer of sunlight was fading. Soon it would be dark.
At the top of the ridge there was a break in the rocks. Surely Russell would be watching that natural crossing. She needed to find another route where he’d be less likely to see her.
She stepped away from the crevice.
Russell was there. Waiting. He whispered, “I knew you’d come to me, Cara.”
Her gaze darted. Where could she run?
In one hand, he held a rifle. In the other, the stun gun. Remembered pain from his first attack shot through her. “Don’t,” she said. “Don’t use that thing on me again.”
“Will you cooperate?”
She had no choice. “Yes.”
“Come with me. We’ll walk side by side. You deserve to be my equal.”
Though she’d lost her earpiece, she hoped the mi crophone was still working and Dash could hear what Russell was saying. When she saw where they were headed, she tried to give a clue. “It’s a cave. A hollow in the rocks.”
“It’s so much more,” he said. “A ceremonial site. With a kiva. And a fire pit.”
“Where’s the girl you took hostage?”
“You’ll see. Soon enough.”
She paused to catch her breath. And to think. How could she get out of this? The psychologist had advised her to keep him talking. “I met your father. William Graff.”
“Don’t talk to me about him.”
“Did he hurt you, Russell?”
“He always wanted me to prove myself. To be judged worthy.”
She hoped someone else was hearing this because it explained a lot about Russell’s need to judge others. “Of course you’re worthy. You were always a brilliant student.”
They were at the entrance to the shallow cave—the curved sandstone walls led back about twenty feet. The ground was flat. Arrowheads and pottery shards littered the earth. In the center was a fire pit that had been used many times before. The rock overhead was scorched black.
At the rear of the cave, she saw a young woman with black hair. Bound and gagged. And still very much alive, thank God.
“Don’t talk to her.” Russell pointed toward the far side of the fire pit. “Sit there.”
She lowered herself slowly. Running her hand across the dirt, she found an arrowhead. A weapon.
Russell set aside his rifle and tucked the stun gun into his pocket. He squatted down on the opposite side of the fire pit where twigs and kindling had been laid.
“I smell gas,” she said.
“I dumped some on the fire. Kind of got it all over myself.”
“Be careful.”
“A lot you care.” He tossed a match. The flame ignited immediately. He had prepared this fire for some horrible ceremony she didn’t even want to imagine.
From across the flames, his gaze met hers. In that instant, he changed. His youth vanished. In his eyes, she saw an unspeakable coldness.
“Don’t lie,” he said. “Don’t tell him you care.”
His words made no sense. “Who are you talking about?”
“You were wrong to leave me,” he snarled.
“Russell, I had to—”
“I don’t want to hurt you, Cara. I like you.”
He had become himself again. A shy young man with puppy-dog eyes. “Russell?”
“Silence,” he thundered. “You deserve to die.”
With a shock, she recognized the voice. There hadn’t been two men at the house where she’d been held captive. It had been Russell. He was two different people. Jekyll and Hyde. Her only chance for survival was to appeal to the kinder Russell.
He stood and paced. Even his posture was differ ent. His voice was deep and angry. He growled a string of obscenities.
“Your father hurt you,” she said.
“No more talk of him.” His leer was vicious. “Bastard. Bastard.”
“You were abused, weren’t you? Tell me about it. I want to understand.”
A sob tore from his throat. He knelt and sat back on his heels. “What’s wrong with me?”
“You need help,” she said. “Let me help you. There are doctors, psychologists, who can treat you.”
“Yeah, sure.” Tears creased his cheeks. “I went to the shrinks. They gave me pills that made me weird.”
“I’ll go with you, Russell. I want to help you.”
“You’ll leave me.” He shrugged. “Everybody leaves me.”
Abandonment issues. “I know what that feels like. My father left me, too.”
“Believe me, Cara. You don’t know what I feel like. Every day it’s a fight to keep him quiet.”
“Who?”
“It’s like there’s somebody else inside me. He’s the one who hurts those women, then he makes me help him. He wants me to kill you.”
He stood. Reaching behind his back, he unsheathed a long, sharp hunting knife.
DASH STRUGGLED DOWN the hillside. Every step was agony, but he couldn’t stop. Backup was on the way, but they wouldn’t get here soon enough.
He’d listened to Russell. His pathology was clear: a split personality. He’d heard a profiler lecture on this rare condition called dissociative identity disorder, often brought on by physical, emotional or sexual abuse. Russell was a textbook case.
If Cara could keep him talking, Dash might get there in time. He saw the smoke from the cave.
It wasn’t far. He could make it.
“PUT DOWN THE KNIFE,” Cara said. “You don’t have to do this, Russell.”
“Yeah, I do.” His eyes were sad. “There’s only one way to protect you from him. Death.”
“No,” she said firmly. She had to get control. “Talk to me, Russell. Why are you doing this?”
“I was damaged goods from the very start. My birth parents didn’t want me.”
“Did they hurt you?”
There was pain. “I don’t remember.”
There must have been someone good in his life, some good memory she could call upon. “Your mother?”
“Adele. I was never clean enough for her. No matter how many times she took off my clothes and washed me.” His lips inched together. “Why couldn’t you love me, Cara?”
“I’ll help you. I promise.”
He raised the knife in his hand. The fire glittered on the blade. “We both die. Then we’ll be together forever.”
Before he could take a step, Dash lunged into the cave. He knocked the knife from Russell’s hand.
But Russell was quick. Agile. He darted away from Dash. The knife was in his hand again.
Dash positioned himself in front of her. He drew his handgun. “It’s over, Russell. You’re coming with me.”
A peaceful smile crossed his face. He whispered, “G
oodbye, Cara.”
The blade flashed. Russell had slit his own throat, slashed the carotid artery.
The blood poured out. Thick, red and horrible. Unable to speak, Russell staggered. He toppled forward into the fire. The flames leaped higher as the gas Russell had spilled on his clothing ignited.
Though Dash tried to pull him from the flames and tried to help him, it was over. Russell was dead.
Dash conveyed that information to the rest of the task force. In minutes, they swarmed through the cave. The desolate landscape came alive with men and vehicles and a helicopter with a spotlight, lighting the shadows.
Cara and Dash stepped aside, letting the others do their work. After they’d peeled off their vests and the microphones, they sat side by side on a rock. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “You were amazing, Cara.”
“I was terrified.” After what she’d been through, she couldn’t smile. Her features were frozen. “From now on, I’ll leave the investigative work to you.”
“Even if it’s risky?”
“Especially then.”
“I’ll be careful,” he said. “But there’s one more risk I need to take. A big one.”
“Oh, dear.” She sighed. “What is it?”
“I want to settle down, to have a home and become a family. Marry me.”
“There’s only one logical answer.” He was everything she’d ever wanted. And more. “Yes, Dash. We belong together.”
ISBN: 978-1-4592-2268-7
PROTECTIVE CONFINEMENT
Copyright © 2007 by Kay Bergstrom
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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*Colorado Crime Consultants
**Rocky Mountain Safe House
†Safe House: Mesa Verde
Table of Contents
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Books by Cassie Miles
Cast of Characters
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Copyright