Maybe because you’re in the way.
Wait, what? How was he in the way? The first thing that came to mind was his past. He was holding onto it. That was now clear. What if he forgot about it? Let go of the hurt and pain he still felt from the way he lost his mother? But he had so much anger, too. At her and God. So was his anger blocking God, preventing Him from working in Alex’s life?
Sam shifted, her gaze concerned now. “Let’s give this another fifteen minutes and then take a break to warm up. You can check on them, and I can check on the phone.”
“Sounds good,” he said, still trying to figure out his issues.
He returned to shoveling and sifting, and an image of Whiney caring for his wound popped into his mind. Sweet, compassionate, funny, beautiful Whitney. What would it be like to be in a relationship with her?
He let himself imagine her and the kids in his life on a permanent basis. Living at the compound. A regular family. Him helping Isaiah. The boy learning to move beyond his pain and embrace life again. Alex liked every bit of what he was picturing, and he wanted it. Wanted it more than he thought possible.
“Look!” Sam shot forward, kneeling on the porch and gently swiping snow from the wall.
He peered over her shoulder and spotted the telltale bullet hole in the siding.
She flipped her evidence kit open, grabbed a plastic marker along with her camera, and started snapping pictures. “I need you to step outside so I have more room to take pictures.”
“And then can you remove the slug to determine the caliber?”
“Depends,” she said, shooting photos. “If removing the slug might damage it, I’ll have to leave it. I have what I need to move forward. Knowing the bullet location, I can do my trajectory calculation.”
He got up. “How long will that take?’
“Fifteen minutes. Maybe less.” She shooed him toward the entrance flap buffeted by wind. “Now get out of here so I can get it done.”
“I’ll wait in the lobby for you so we can head out to the shooter’s stand.” He slipped into the blustery wind, and for once didn’t feel the cold. But he wasn’t foolish enough to stand outside when the lobby would be nice and warm.
He hurried inside and brushed off his jacket and cap then took them off. He thought to check on Whitney, but it would be so much better if he could arrive and tell her that they’d found the shooter hunkered down in his stand and apprehended him.
Percy? Maybe. Likely. If it was, then she could go back to her normal life.
Alex frowned. He didn’t much like that thought. When this all ended, he wouldn’t see her again. Ever. Even if he changed his mind about dating her—she lived and worked in Portland. Besides, she’d have to say yes to a date, and she had her own issues. He doubted going out with him was on her horizon at all.
“Can I get you something warm to drink?” Yuki called out as she came from behind the desk.
He shook his head. “That’s kind of you, but no. Sam will be here in a minute, and we’re going back out.”
“Are you making progress?”
He nodded but didn’t elaborate.
She tilted her head and studied him in the intense way she had of making him feel like he was transparent, and she could see clean through him. “You’re not going to tell me what you’ve found, are you?”
“No. Sorry.”
She planted her hands on her waist. “I don’t like that violence has found its way to our little resort.”
“I don’t like it, either.”
McCray, in his perfect timing, stepped into the lobby and leisurely strolled toward the dining room. Alex didn’t want the jerk anywhere near Yuki or Tomio or the guests. “When this is all over, we’ll have to have a talk about how you can better secure the resort for your guest’s safety.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Do you think we need to do that?”
“In today’s world it’s a good idea to be as prepared as possible without going overboard and ruining the experience your guests expect. I mean, metal detectors at the front door might turn them off a bit.” He chuckled to lighten the mood.
“It’s safe to say that will never happen.” She swatted a hand at his arm before a deep frown found its way to her face, and she stepped closer. “How are Whitney and the kids doing after the…well…the incident last night?”
“She’s a strong and brave woman. She’s holding up.”
“I am glad you are seeing this in her.” Yuki smiled mischievously. “She is single you know. Very single.”
Alex rolled his eyes. “Subtlety isn’t your strong suit, Yuki.”
She mocked affront. “Life is too short to be subtle. Just keep noticing our girl. She’s a special one.”
Alex had to agree, but the noticing wasn’t the problem. He’d noticed her. Plenty.
The front door flew open, and Sam stomped in, bringing with her a tornado of snow. Her cheeks were red and her eyes alive. “Let’s go.”
“You have the location?”
She glanced at Yuki, then nodded.
“Don’t worry, I know better than to waste my time asking for details from the pair of you.” Yuki shifted her gaze to Alex. “Tell Whitney and the kids that I miss and love them.”
“Will do.” Alex wondered what it would be like to be this free with emotions. Not needing to hold them in so tightly that it physically hurt. He knew his mother’s death impacted him, but until he’d found a woman who triggered the long-buried emotions, he’d had no idea just how much.
“C’mon, hotshot,” Sam said. “Stop staring and get that jacket on.”
Alex slipped into his jacket and cap, but Sam was out the door before he could pull up the zipper. She was already stepping off the porch into waist-high drifts, and he hurried to catch her before she disappeared into the storm.
“We need to stay together!” he yelled against the wind and reached for her arm.
She slowed her pace. “Sorry. Got carried away.”
He dug a small rope from his pocket that he’d brought for just this reason, knotted both ends, and held out one end. “Don’t let go of this if you’re on the move.”
She took the far end, and he clutched the other. He patted his pocket to make sure his gun was ready to draw in an instant then nodded for her to set off. She led him along the front of the building toward the ski slopes. They passed a small ski and gift shop, and the long wooden rack out front that would normally be overloaded with skis.
They continued on, slogging through snow, the battle hard, his thigh muscles straining. He had to lean into the wind. Head down. Pick his feet up high. He was thankful for sections blown clear where he could almost step normally.
Sam paused outside a small outbuilding designed to look like a Swiss chalet. From their search the other day, he knew it housed maintenance equipment. After searching it, he’d locked it up tight with Tomio’s keys.
She released the rope and gave him a pointed look. This building was a perfect place for their shooter to hunker down. Alex quickly shoved the rope into his pocket and drew his gun. Sam pulled her gun, too. Alex tried the knob—it was unlocked. At his signal, they burst into the small space. He scanned the room. No one was there, but food wrappers and water bottles littered the floor. Those items weren’t there when they’d first searched.
He shot back outside. Keeping his head on a swivel, he dropped to his knees to make a visual search of the snow.
He’d long ago learned to track animals on the wooded property where he’d grown up, but tracking people was a different story. Easier actually, as people left many more signs than animals, like trampled leaves. If he turned one over, he could usually find a signature print on the other side. It could show the type of shoe and the direction the person headed.
All of it took patience and time, something he had in spades when he was tracking. One step. One minuscule lead. Then another. He was all over that challenge.
The snow was even easier. Virtually anyone with little training could trac
k someone in the snow. He located a set of prints. The firm snow compression, large boot size, and length of stride indicated these prints were made by a man.
“What do we have?” Sam asked from above.
“Large boot prints leading away and up the hill toward the ungroomed area. It’s a man by the large tread size. Heavy or muscular—from the snow compression. Tall—from the stride length. This could fit Percy.” Alex stood. “I can still see most of the treads. Means they’re fresh, but they’re filling in fast.”
“Then we need to hurry. Go after him.”
Alex shook his head. “Too dangerous to follow him without supplies and proper gear. The snow isn't stable and one of us could get hurt and be caught unprepared. I won’t risk that.”
She frowned. “I know you’re right, but I don’t much like your answer.”
“Safety comes first.” He couldn’t believe he was being the cautious one here, but with his wilderness training, he knew the extreme danger better than Sam.
“Then let’s keep searching for the weapon. I placed the shot’s origination about fifty feet ahead.” She started forward.
Alex followed and kept glancing behind, his gun still in his hand. Despite it being the prudent thing to walk away, his gut urged him to track the suspect. When it came to his own life, he wasn’t one for playing things safe, but he wouldn’t risk Sam’s life or anyone else’s.
Whitney came to mind. What if he went out and didn’t come back? Would she be upset by that? She was a caring and compassionate woman, so of course it would trouble her, but he was thinking of her as a woman. One who had feelings for him. Did she?
Sam stopped. He was so distracted by his thoughts he almost plowed her down. Instead, he skirted around her and faced the direction their foe had bolted. He alternated his gaze between Sam and trying to make out any danger from their suspect. He could only see a few feet out. If the killer was packing his gun, he could easily shoot them.
He swallowed down his anxiety as Sam took out her phone.
“Odd time to try to make a call isn’t it?” He joked.
She laughed. “I have a metal detector app on my phone.”
She sank down into the snow that came up to her waist and waved her phone over the fluffy pile. She slowly inched around until an alarm sounded and the screen flashed.
“You found it.” He bent down to carefully sweep away the snow.
“Found something,” she corrected and also tried to dig it out.
They soon reached the ground, and the object that set off the detector lay in full view.
She looked up at him. “Well, we found something all right.”
He nodded. “Just not what we were expecting at all.”
18
Whitney watched Alex remove his ski gloves and was shocked to see latex gloves underneath. His short beard was laced with ice crystals and underneath he wore a frown. Sam unwound her scarf, revealing red and frosty cheeks. They both looked deadly serious, raising Whitney’s concern. They pulled their heavy jackets off and hung them up by the door.
Their jackets were so pelted with snow it looked as if someone plastered them with white paint. Whitney waited for one of them to explain why when they were in a protected tent. Neither spoke.
Her stomach tightened, but she tried to remain lighthearted. “You must have a serious opening in your tent.”
Sam firmly met Whitney’s gaze. “We located the slug embedded in the lodge’s wall. From that, I figured out the bullet trajectory, allowing us to search for the shooter’s location.”
“And?” Whitney held her breath.
Alex stepped closer to her and took out a grayish plastic gun from his pocket. “We found where he was hiding when he shot John Doe. Nearby, this is what we found.”
Whitney frowned as she examined it, then looked up. “I’ve seen something like that before. In the news. It’s a 3-D printed gun, right?”
Alex gave a solemn nod. “There’s a man who released blueprints of how to print them on the Internet.”
“What? If he gave out the plans then anyone could print a gun. Even criminals.”
“Which is exactly why he’s doing it.” Sam’s tone was laden with disgust. “He believes all people have the right to bear arms no matter what. Even the most depraved of criminals.”
Whitney gaped at the gun—just a hunk of plastic that looked like someone pounded a metal nail in it—and tried to wrap her head around the discovery. “And that’s what John Doe was shot with?”
“Looks like it,” Sam said. “But until a ballistics test is done on the weapon we won’t know for sure.”
Still trying to process, Whitney shook her head. “Where did you find it, and why would the killer leave it behind?”
“I can’t begin to know why he left the gun,” Alex said. “But we located it between the maintenance shed and ski lift. The nail set off a metal detector app on Sam’s phone. It’s chambered for a .38 caliber bullet which is the size of slug Sam removed from the wall. Odds are good that it’s our murder weapon.”
He set the gun on the table and shifted his attention to Sam. “Doesn’t match either of the guns we’ve taken into evidence.”
Thank goodness. “Which means I’m in the clear and can have my gun back.”
“It does,” Sam said.
Whitney was glad to have the extra protection and glad that the bullet matched a different gun.
“Hey wait,” she said suddenly realizing Alex had been keeping things from her. “You never told me about another gun.”
“Sorry. It was on a need-to-know basis,” he said.
Seriously? How could he so easily deceive her? Sure, it wasn’t like he lied to her, but it was kind of a lie of omission, and she didn’t like it one bit. She locked gazes with him. “What else are you keeping from me?”
“What?” His eyes narrowed in confusion.
She put her hands on her hips. “This is just like Percy. One little seemingly innocuous thing comes out, and then it leads down a path to complete deception.”
“You’re overreacting here, Whitney. It’s part of the investigation where Sam and I cannot divulge the details outside of the team.” His gaze was dark. “I thought by now you realized the kind of man I am, but I guess I was wrong.”
“Um, we should probably move on, and you two can circle back to this later,” Sam said. “You should also know there’s evidence of a person staying in the shed.”
Whitney let go of her upset with Alex to focus. “What kind of evidence?”
“Food wrappers and water bottles. Plus fresh boot prints lead up to the ungroomed area of the nearest slope.”
“Did you follow the trail or get a look at who it was?”
“No,” Alex said, his tone rigid and unyielding.
It was clear Whitney had hurt him or made him mad, which she didn’t know, but he wouldn’t be feeling either emotion if he’d been deliberately deceiving her.
“We weren’t prepared to be out long in this weather, and it would’ve been dangerous to follow,” he continued. “Plus, I didn’t see a person. Visibility was limited. I don’t know how he could possibly have seen us coming.”
“Maybe he didn’t,” Sam said. “Maybe he was planning to move anyway.”
“I’d like to think we didn’t tip him off, but we can’t be sure.” Alex firmed his shoulders. “I’ll grab some supplies and head back out there to do some recon.”
“Not alone.” Whitney’s tone was sharper than she intended. Bossy and demanding and all wrong for the woman who’d all but said he was as deceptive as Percy.
Alex arched a brow like he dared her to stop him, but he didn’t speak.
“Don’t worry,” Sam said. “I won’t let him do that.”
He swung his gaze to Sam. “Like to see you try to stop me.”
“I’m the law, remember?” She grinned. “You have to obey me.”
He stared for a long moment then shook his head and chuckled. “Actually, I have to obey the law
s, not you specifically. Unless you’re planning to detain me.”
“I will if I have to.” She laughed with him.
Whitney couldn’t find a lighthearted mood again. She had to believe Percy was living in the shed, and if he had another gun, he could’ve hurt Sam and Alex. Maybe shot one or both of them. And if Alex ignored her and Sam’s advice and went back out, Percy could take him out. But maybe he didn’t have another gun.
“I still don’t get why Percy would leave a gun behind like that.”
“First, we don’t know it’s Percy,” Alex said. “Second, he likely figured the snow would hide it and it was better than if we found it on his person. And third, it looks like the bullet deformed the barrel and it wouldn’t work so he just ditched it.”
The implications of everything, especially if she assumed it was Percy out there, was unreal. “Is it just me or is this bizarre?”
“It’s bizarre,” Sam said.
Whitney’s brain was running on high octane now, filling with questions. “Where would Percy even get something like this made? I mean if he didn’t have access to the plans, what are the odds he could develop his own 3-D gun?”
“I didn’t read anything to suggest he’s knowledgeable about ballistics,” Sam said.
“He isn’t that I know of, but then it’s clear I never really knew him.”
“Without that knowledge, he couldn’t create a blueprint for an operational gun. He would’ve needed help,” Alex said, his earlier upset with her seeming to be gone. “And we have to also consider this might not be Percy. Could be related to our gun runner. Maybe he’s gotten into printing 3-D guns.”
“We have no indication of that,” Sam said.
“True, but we don’t know everything about him, and it would be a natural offshoot for a gun runner to begin selling 3-D guns.” Alex dug out his phone. “I think our best bet right now is to find out where this gun came from. I’m going to call Eryn to see if she can help us track the weapon down.”
Sam nodded. “And while you do that, I’ll grab my camera and get set up to shoot the gun.”
Cold Pursuit Page 16