Justice (A Rocky Mountain Thriller Book 3)

by Ann Voss Peterson

  Nick blew out a breath. He couldn’t spend time on this. He needed to get on the road, not sit here wrangling his son and waiting for Melissa, the police—or worse, the men who’d shot at his son before—to catch up. “I’m going to start the car and get the movie rolling.”

  Somewhere in the city a siren screamed.

  Nick circled the truck bed and climbed behind the wheel. After starting the engine and the movie, he exited the parking structure. He half expected the street to be barred by police cars, but traffic flowed freely up and down the boulevard. Police barricades were still in place in front of the hotel two and a half blocks down. But other than that, the world went on as if nothing had changed.

  Of course he had only to look into his rearview mirror at the little boy, one thumb in mouth, twirling his hair with his other hand, to remind himself everything had changed. Nick wasn’t alone any longer. He had a son to protect.

  The light ahead changed from green to yellow. The car in front of him slowed. Normally he might hit the gas hard, swerve into the open lane beside him and blast through the light before it switched to red. Instead he braked. Things were different. There was a child in the back.

  And as he came to a halt behind the car stopped at the thick white line, he saw Melissa standing on the corner.

  Oh, hell.

  Melissa started across the street with the other pedestrians. Closer. Closer. She was going to walk right by them… see them… and then what was Nick going to do?

  He glanced in the rearview mirror. Cars to the left, to the right. A minivan on his bumper. The only way was straight ahead.

  No dice.

  A crowd of people filled the walkway, blocking his only escape route. Melissa drew closer, marching as if on a mission… a mission to find him and Jason, no doubt. She focused straight ahead, her sleek, blond hair blowing back from her cheeks.

  Reaching the middle of the boulevard, she still hadn’t spotted them. He leaned forward, silently urging the light to change.

  She drew even with the right bumper of the car in front of him, still marching, still looking straight ahead. Nick held his breath as she crossed in front of him and stepped up onto the curb.

  The light changed to green. One second passed. Two. The cars to the side started to move.

  “Go,” Nick said to the car ahead. “Come on.”

  The car inched forward.

  On the curb, Melissa Anderson slowed her steps and glanced back over her shoulder.

  Her eyes met Nick’s.

  ______

  There he was.

  Melissa stopped in midstride, staring straight into Nick’s eyes. His truck was already moving. Inching forward, nearly on the bumper of the sedan ahead of him.

  She couldn’t catch him. Not unless she planned to race out into traffic and throw herself into the bed of his moving truck. But her car was parked nearby.

  She raced down the sidewalk, clawing at the pocket in her bag for her keys, her silver hybrid already in her sights. Traffic moved slowly this time of day. He wouldn’t get much of a head start. She might be able to catch him before he reached the interstate, be nearby when he stopped for gas.

  At least she had to try.

  She hit the unlock button on her key remote and squeezed by the edge of traffic to the driver’s door of her car. She slipped inside and started the ignition. Then flicking on her blinker, she aggressively nudged her way into the flow of traffic.

  Craning her neck, she scanned through three lanes of dark-colored sedans, delivery vehicles, and compacts, searching for a glimpse of Nick’s truck. Once he left the state, it would be difficult to force him back. And she doubted he’d return voluntarily. Not after what happened this morning.

  But Melissa needed him.

  She’d been busy keeping Jason safe. She hadn’t seen the men in the car. But Nick had. He was the only witness in Jimmy’s death. Nick was worried about keeping his son safe, but the boy was too young to be a reliable witness, not to his mother’s death, not to Jimmy’s. Nick was the one who needed protection.

  As the D.A.’s investigator, Melissa had all the powers of a county detective, including the power to arrest. With one call to Seth Wallace, she could get a material witness warrant for Nick. And if he forced her hand, she’d do it. For justice’s sake. For Jimmy.

  Up ahead on the ramp leading onto I-25, she spotted a pickup that looked like Nick’s. Merging onto the interstate, she hit the gas. If he pulled off to stop for gas or take a smaller highway, she wanted to be close enough to know it.

  The miles ticked by. The number of cars dwindled. After they streamed past the outskirts of Denver, signs of city started to fade. The interstate took a wide bend, and she again spotted the pickup. She was closer now. Close enough to see the Wyoming license plate with its picture of a cowboy on a bucking horse. The shadow of a booster seat peeked through the king cab’s back window.

  It was Nick Raymond, all right.

  He hadn’t stopped for gas since they’d left Denver. That truck was built for hauling, not for good mileage. He’d have to stop eventually.

  Wouldn’t it?

  The truck veered off the interstate and onto a highway heading for Laramie. Traffic dwindled. The road narrowed to two lanes. Civilization fell off and wilderness took over.

  Melissa followed. In Denver, she’d found comfort in knowing the roads and landscape better than Nick. Here the tables had turned. They were entering his home turf now.

  As long as she could stay within sight of the pickup, she wouldn’t lose him. Not much of a challenge anymore, considering there were fewer and fewer places to turn off.

  Nick had to see her in his rearview mirror. She couldn’t help wonder what he was thinking.

  She glanced in her own rearview. Besides Nick’s truck and her car, there was only one other vehicle she could see. A dark blue sedan, four car lengths back.

  Dark blue. Like the sedan outside the hotel this morning.

  A tremor lodged in the center of Melissa’s chest.

  It couldn’t be the car from this morning. Could it? Dark blue sedans weren’t exactly rare. It had to be her overactive imagination.

  Dusk fell. The terrain grew steeper, more remote, and still the car followed. Melissa focused on Nick’s taillights, weaving back and forth up the switchback highway. Her palms broke out in a sweat, and she released the wheel, one hand then the other, and wiped her hands on her pants.

  As ridiculous as her suspicion about the blue sedan was, she couldn’t shake it. Could the shooters have known what kind of truck Nick drove? Could they have watched it all day, biding their time, hoping he’d return and give them a chance to remove the only witness?

  Or were they following her? Hoping she’d lead them right to Nick and his son?

  Seth had feared something like this might happen. That was why he’d wanted to take Nick into custody for his protection. Melissa had talked him into letting her whisk the rancher and his son off to a hotel, keep them safe. And now…

  She punched the button on the steering wheel, activating her phone. “Seth Wallace.”

  “No signal available,” the flat voice answered.

  Melissa tried again.

  Same response. The mountains. They were already blocking cell phone signals. And she had a long way to go before she’d be in the clear.

  Melissa followed the winding highway, focusing on Nick’s pickup ahead. So much for hoping he’d have to stop for gas. Either he’d recently filled his tank, had dual gas tanks like some of the trucks she’d seen in town, or both. She’d probably run out before he reached the half-way mark.

  She glanced in the rear-view mirror. The sedan was still following, but besides reminding her of this morning’s car, it had done nothing suspicious. There were a lot of dark-colored sedans in the world. And she wasn’t sure, but the car behind them looked like it had only two people inside, not four. Definitely a threat that was only in her imagination.

  She drove on. The only sound was th
e hiss of tires on pavement, and the rapid thump of her pulse. Night closed in, the sky dark, clouds hiding the stars. Even though it wasn’t yet October, a dry powdery snow dusted the road.

  Great. Snow. She hadn’t considered that. Of course, she hadn’t planned to be driving into the mountains in the first place.

  The area was growing more remote with every mile that rolled under her tires. They passed no gas stations. A dusting changed to flurries changed to something from a Christmas movie. She could feel her tires skidding a little as she went around each—

  A crack split the air like snapping ice.

  Was that—

  She looked in the rearview mirror. Behind her, the passenger window of the sedan was lowered. A head poked outside, a youngish face, short dark hair whipped by the wind. He had something in a tattoo-marked hand, and although she couldn’t really see what it was, she didn’t have to. She knew.

  Another shot exploded.

  The back window of Nick’s truck shattered. The pickup swerved, but stayed on the road.

  Oh, God. Oh, God. Jason.

  Melissa gripped the wheel. She was still between the car and Nick’s truck. She couldn’t let them get off another round. She wouldn’t. She had to stop them, whatever it took.

  The sedan swerved to the right, getting ready to pass.

  Melissa swung to the side, into the oncoming lane. A hairpin turn loomed ahead. Coming up fast. She started the turn.

  The sedan cut to the inside.

  Melissa veered back, blocking them. Her tires slipped on the snow for a second, then caught. Her pulse pounded in her ears.

  As soon as they rounded the turn, the car behind tried to pass again.

  There was no way Melissa could hold them off. Not with the snow. Not for long. And when they passed her, they’d have a clear shot at Nick and sweet little Jason.

  She couldn’t let that happen.

  Taking a deep breath, she stomped on the brake. Her car skidded and started to spin.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “YOU OKAY, BUDDY? YOU OKAY, buddy?” Nick glanced into the backseat. He knew it was risky. The mountain highway twisted and wound like a snake. A missed turn and they could crash through the guardrail and find themselves plunging into the black ravine. But he had to know if his son was hurt. If Jason wasn’t okay, nothing mattered.

  A little hiccup rose from the backseat. A couple of breaths and it turned to a frightened little boy cry.

  Headlights behind veered to the side.

  Nick stole a glance in the rearview mirror. The little silver toy he’d guessed was Melissa’s car spun on the slick mountain road. A smack shuddered through the air, the sickening crunch of metal on metal.

  Oh, God.

  Cars bounced off one another. One skidded toward the guardrail.

  Nick brought his eyes back to the road in front of him. Lifting his foot from the gas, he slowed for the sharp turn ahead.

  Another crash shuddered from behind. Melissa? The other car?

  Nick pulled in a shallow breath, then another. Completing the turn, he piloted the truck up the switchback and turned off onto an overlook. Then he peered down at the road below.

  One car rested on the narrow shoulder, its beams shining out into blackness. Next to it, the guardrail gaped, wood and steel ripped away and cast down the mountainside.

  The other car was nowhere to be seen.

  The car that was left looked like Melissa’s. Didn’t it? From this distance, Nick wasn’t sure. Silver in color? Smaller in size? It had to be hers. Had to be.

  Why had she spun out of control? He’d only heard two gunshots, one had shattered his back window, and the other? Could it have hit her?

  Nick switched on the dome light and twisted in his seat to examine his son. Thumb planted in mouth, Jason was still sobbing, tears spilling from his big blue eyes and down plump cheeks in heartbreaking waves. But as far as Nick could tell, he hadn’t been hurt. Not physically. Pebbled glass littered the backseat, glistening in the light.

  “It’s okay, Buddy.” He unhooked the little guy’s belt and helped him into the front. Gathering him into his arms, he checked him over again, just to be sure. He found nothing. Except for more emotional trauma, which Jason certainly didn’t need, the little guy was unscathed. “It’s okay, Buddy. It’s all over. We’re safe.”

  Rubbing his hand on the little shoulder, Nick peered down off the overlook. The car’s beams still gleamed out into nothingness, its nose caught on the edge of the crumpled guardrail. But now a woman stood on the pavement outside the car, blond hair catching the light.

  Thank God.

  Checking her cell phone, Melissa circled the back of the car. Even from this distance, Nick could see she wasn’t going anywhere.

  Nick brought his focus back to the truck’s interior. Nick cleared as much pebbled glass from the back and Jason’s car seat as he could. After pulling a roll of duct tape out of the tool box in the truck bed, he taped a sheet of plastic over the open stretch where the back window should be. He strapped Jason back in, then settling back behind the wheel, he headed down the switchback in the opposite direction.

  He could see the controlled look on Melissa’s face before he stopped the truck. The same look she’d had after the drive-by shooting this morning. He lowered the passenger window. “Get in.”

  “Jason?”

  “He’s fine. Now get in.”

  “The people in the car… it looked like two....” She paused for a moment, then turned her back to him and peered down into the darkness.

  He got out of the truck. Circling to the passenger side, he followed her line of sight. Tiny pinpricks of light beamed deep in the ravine. “No one could have survived that fall.”

  “I need to stay until help arrives.”

  “No. You don’t.”

  She brought her hand to her forehead. “You don’t understand. I hit the brakes… I did it on purpose…”

  “You can stay here all night, but you’ll never get cell phone reception on this stretch of highway.”

  “It’s my fault, I ki—”

  “You saved our lives.”

  She looked at him through mussed bangs.

  “They were shooting, you stopped them. I don’t give a rat’s ass about anything else. They brought it on themselves.”

  Melissa turned back to the gulley.

  “Fine. We’ll call when we get out of the mountains. I promise. Now, come on. Jason is scared. He needs a familiar face.”

  Nick could almost see Melissa’s emotions shuffle into place, like a bird smoothing its feathers. She gave a nod and climbed into the back seat beside Jason.

  Nick slipped behind the wheel and pulled back onto the highway. Miles rolled under the tires, twisting through the mountains, flattening briefly, then twisting again. Murmurs rose from the backseat, then settled into silence.

  An hour in, Nick glanced into the rearview mirror to see Jason slumping to the side in his car seat. Melissa stared out the window into the darkness with shell-shocked eyes.

  Nick never thought of himself as the nurturing type, but at that moment, he wanted nothing more than to make everything okay for his son and for the woman who had saved Jason’s life twice in one day. Whether she would let him was another story. But it was what she would do after she recovered that worried him most.

  Because there wasn’t a chance in hell he and Jason were returning to Denver, and he had a feeling she hadn’t followed him just for sport.

  ______

  Melissa didn’t know when she’d fallen asleep or how long she’d been out, but when she awoke, total darkness still surrounded the truck and there wasn’t a prick of light to be seen save for the stars overhead.

  So this was what the middle of nowhere looked like.

  From the backseat, she could see nothing but the hat brim and a touch of wavy dark hair against the dash’s green glow.

  She turned her attention to Jason sleeping in the car seat next to her. His thumb was jammed in
his mouth, his free hand twined in the waves on the crown of his head, the only hair long enough for him to get a good hold.

  She’d saved Nick’s and Jason’s lives. That’s what she’d set out to do. But she’d also caused the deaths of whomever was in that car, and while that was a form of justice for what they’d done to Jimmy and Essie, the idea that she’d taken two lives vibrated deep in her chest like the echoes of an explosion.

  The truck slowed. Nick turned off the highway and onto a side road. Gravel crackled under the tires. Logs of lodgepole pine framed each side of the gravel drive and stretched over the top. A metal sign hung from the top span, a cutout of a J inside a circle, like a cattle brand. Barbed wire gleamed in the headlight beams, stretching out on either side of the gateway. Tires bumped over a cattle guard as they drove through the gate.

  “You awake?” Nick’s voice rumbled through the cab.

  “What time is it?”

  “Almost 4:00 a.m.”

  “Sorry for falling asleep like that. I should have kept you company.”

  “You needed the rest.”

  She didn’t like the idea of him watching her sleep. “We need to call the authorities.”

  “Already did.”

  She sat straight up in the seat. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

  “Like I said, you needed the rest.”

  “I needed to talk to the sheriff.” She rummaged under the seat. Touching the soft leather of her bag, she hauled it out, unzipped it, and started fishing for her cell phone.

  “Don’t bother. There’s no signal around here.”

  She found her phone and checked the readout. “Is there any cell phone service in Wyoming?”

  “Not around here.”

  “Well I need to get somewhere that has service. I have to let the authorities know what happened.”

  “I already told them.”

  “That’s not the same thing.”

  “It will have to do. At least for now.”

  Nick slowed the truck. Ahead a handful of lights peppered the dark slope in front of the truck. The hulks of buildings took shape. A collection of small cabins. A barn that looked like it came straight out of the Old West.