by Gerri Hill
Sara turned and met Jaime’s eyes head on, her own softening as images of their lovemaking flashed through her mind. Her hand trembled slightly when she reached out, placing it firmly on Jaime’s stomach, then inching it higher, resting just below Jaime’s breasts.
“I’m scared, Jaime,” she whispered. “I want . . . I want to stay with you.”
Jaime shook her head. “We talked about it, Sara. You’ll be safer with the others. Don’t forget, it’s you he’s after.”
“I think at this point, he’s after all of us.” She let her hand slip away as she turned back to Megan. “I’m afraid if I leave, I won’t ever see you again. I have a really bad feeling about you staying here.”
Jaime walked closer, standing directly behind Sara. Her hands drew Sara back against her and she closed her eyes at the contact.
Sara too let her eyes slip closed. She took Jaime’s hand, pulling it tighter against her, feeling safe.
“Please let me stay with you.”
“Absolutely not,” she whispered into Sara’s ear. “But I’ll let you make me dinner next Saturday night.”
Sara smiled, feeling somewhat comforted by Jaime’s obviously blatant attempt to reassure her everything would be fine by next week. So instead of arguing the point, she nodded.
“It’s a date.”
“Great.” Jaime pulled away but not before squeezing tightly on Sara’s hand. “Then let’s get you out of here.”
Chapter Forty-One
Jake took the corner too fast, nearly skidding as she rounded the curve above Mirror Lake.
“Damn, you’d think it was your first assignment,” she murmured, glancing quickly into the rearview mirror to watch as Cheyenne hung her head out the opened back window.
She purposefully slowed, telling herself it would do no good to race up Cumberland Pass. She had spent a restless night. Hell, she’d spent a restless day and a half prior to that. After Captain Morris’s initial call, she’d wanted to rush out into the mountains, despite his suggestion she wait until the FBI ground unit checked in. It’d been well over a year since she’d left Denver, since she’d been on the force, but her gut told her not to wait. But as Nicole said, it’d be like looking for a needle in a haystack if she just took off across the mountains, hoping to simply walk upon them.
When Captain Morris called again last night, saying they had found their trail and it appeared they took the high route to Cottonwood Pass, she’d studied the map endlessly, trying to put herself in their position. And her only conclusion was St. Elmo.
And if she was wrong, then yeah, a needle in a haystack.
But she tried to relax, telling herself not to rush up the pass. She’d drive as far as she could, until she came to the washout in the road, then hike in the rest of the way. It would be an easy hike. So despite the cooler temperatures this morning, she opened her window and hung her arm outside, enjoying the brisk breeze as the pine-scented air rushed past her face. She acknowledged the surge of adrenaline for what it was. After all, it was approaching nearly two years since she’d done anything even remotely resembling police work. Her hand unconsciously rubbed her thigh, the scar tissue of the long-healed injury a constant reminder of her former life.
She pulled her hand away as she shook her head. It didn’t matter. She wouldn’t give up the life she and Nicole had made up here for anything. So she would do Captain Morris a favor, she would help find his detective, then she would retreat once again to the small cabin they called home. A cabin she’d been painstakingly remodeling and adding on to for the last year.
“It feels kinda strange to be hiking without Jaime.”
Sara nodded and glanced back over her shoulder at the quickly fading sight of St. Elmo.
“You think they’ll be okay?”
Sara looked at Celia and gave a reassuring smile.
“They’ll be fine.”
“Come on, Megan.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. You have to.”
They were still a good fifty yards from the old abandoned cabin Jaime had chosen as their hiding place. Weeds grew around it, obscuring any long-ago footpaths, and a Douglas fir had taken hold, growing practically at the cabin’s front door. All four windows were boarded up, and through the overgrown weeds and small saplings, she’d found the back door. It was hanging loosely by rusted hinges and she broke through the old lock easily. Far from the comforts of the house they’d slept in last night, nonetheless, this old cabin would be a much safer hiding place.
If only Megan could make it.
“Just a little farther.”
“Leave me, Jaime. Just leave me,” Megan groaned as her legs gave way.
“Like hell.” She pulled Megan up again, holding her around her shoulders. “I know it hurts. I know you’re exhausted. But it’s almost over, Megan. Once the others get to Tin Cup, they’ll send help. Before dark, we’ll be out of here. I promise. Now you gotta stay with me.”
Megan closed her eyes, but nodded weakly. “Okay. Okay, Jaime. I’ll try.”
“Good. That’s my girl.”
Megan tried to smile. “I heard after last night, Sara was your girl.”
Jaime’s face turned scarlet but she didn’t hold back her laugh. “That’s what you heard, huh? Well, if you weren’t in such a delicate condition, I might tell you about it.”
Megan managed a small laugh. “That’s okay. I think Abby did a good enough job already with the details.”
They stopped to rest and Jaime pointed at the old cabin. “We just have to get to there.”
“You’re putting me in there?”
“Got a cot set up already.”
“I’m thinking spiders and rats and stuff.”
“No way. I chased them all out this morning. There’s a couple of chipmunks that have taken up residence, though. I let them stay.”
“I’m not crazy about spiders, Jaime.”
“Well, I’ll get you a stick and you can whack at them if they get too close. Now come on, let’s get you tucked away.”
Through the brush they made their way to the back of the cabin. Megan leaned against the side as Jaime pulled the back door open, the rusty hinges squeaking loudly, protesting after so many years of neglect.
“Come on.”
She helped Megan inside, using her small flashlight to guide them. Once inside, she turned the light off, and they both watched as the sunlight sneaked through the cracks in the walls and ceiling, dancing across the room. It was eerie.
“It’s beautiful,” Jaime whispered.
“It’s filthy.”
Jaime turned the light on again, flashing it around the room, exposing the spider webs that decorated the furniture and fixtures. Then she shined it against the wall, illuminating the cot she’d brought over early that morning. She stole the sheets from the house they’d stayed in last night. At least they were clean. Leaning against the cot was the shotgun she’d found last night.
“Lie down here.”
She eased Megan down, then helped her swing her legs up. “Comfortable?”
“It’ll do.”
Jaime squatted down beside her and took her hand. “I’ve moved the dresser against the front door so that’s barricaded. The only way in is the back door.” She handed Megan the small flashlight. “Keep this. And I put a couple of water bottles down here beside you,” she said, holding one up to show her. Then she picked up the shotgun and laid it beside her. “Keep this too.”
Megan shook her head.
“Yes. Just in case, Megan.”
“I can’t.”
Jaime patted her hand. “Just in case.”
She stood but Megan grabbed her hand when she moved to walk away.
“You’re going after him? But you promised Sara you wouldn’t.”
“I’m going to the edge of town, the way we came in. And if I see him, then yeah, I’m going after the bastard.”
Megan let her hand fall away, nodding. “Okay. I’m too tired to ar
gue.”
“It’s going to be fine, Megan. Try not to worry. By this evening, you’ll be in a hospital room.”
“Now there’s something to look forward to,” she said dryly.
“Okay, hold up,” Sara said, turning to face the others, her eyes looking past them to the trail they’d just come down. Yes, she’d promised Jaime. Yes, leaving was probably the most sensible thing to do. But it just didn’t feel right. The farther she got from St. Elmo, the worse she felt. The nagging, itching feeling she’d tried to shake just wouldn’t go away no matter how often she told herself she was doing the right thing.
“What’s wrong?”
Sara shook her head. “Something.”
“What?”
She took a deep breath then pointed ahead of them. “You stay on this road until you come to the Cumberland Pass cutoff. Then you take the road to the right. It’s a straight downhill shot into Tin Cup. You can’t miss it.”
Abby stepped forward, her hands spread. “Sara? What are you doing?”
“I’m going back.”
“No way. Jaime said we were not to turn back no matter what. Jaime said we weren’t to stop until we reached Tin Cup.”
“Well I don’t give a shit what Jaime said,” Sara said loudly. “I’ve got a bad feeling, okay? And I don’t think she and Megan should be there alone.”
“We’re safer away from there, Sara. You know that,” Celia reasoned.
“Yeah. We’re safer. What about them?” she asked, pointing back the way they’d come. “What about them?”
“What can you do?” Lou Ann asked. “Jaime’s the cop. She knows best, Sara.”
Sara turned away, her eyes looking skyward. Yes, Jaime knew best. She sent her away to be safe without regard to her own safety. She told herself it had nothing to do with the fact that they’d been intimate. That didn’t matter in the least. It was Megan she was concerned about. Not Jaime. Jaime could take care of herself.
Her shoulders sagged. Who the hell was she kidding? Of course it was Jaime she was worried about. And the fact that they’d become lovers made it all the more difficult to separate.
“I’m going back.” She pointed down the road. “And you are all going that way. To Tin Cup.” When Abby opened her mouth to speak, Sara held up her hand. “Don’t argue with me, Abby.”
Chapter Forty-Two
He had long ago stopped cursing himself. It was doing no good. But he had their trail. Did the bitches really think they could hide from him in St. Elmo? No, he’d get them all. And he’d start with the cop and end it with the bitch Michaels.
Damn. He’d told Ramsey not to get the cops involved. He’d told Ramsey he could track them on his own. He didn’t need a goddamned tracking device to follow them. But no, Ramsey didn’t want to take a chance. A female cop wasn’t going to be a problem, he said.
“Stupid bastard,” he mumbled as he pulled the collar of his light jacket up higher around his ears, trying to ward off the cold wind that had hit that morning. “Stupid bastard,” he said again.
Chapter Forty-Three
As Jake climbed higher up Cumberland Pass, the cold wind turned bitter and she called Cheyenne in, raising the window to keep out the cold. Cheyenne’s sharp bark brought her attention back to the road and she slammed on her brakes, barely avoiding the group of women who scrambled to the side and out of her way.
“Jesus Christ!”
She skidded to a halt, her eyes as wide as those that stared back at her. She opened her door and got out, wanting to make sure no one was hurt. The women all started talking at once, some pointing behind them, others pointing up ahead.
Jake held up both hands, trying to silence them.
“Whoa there, ladies. Calm down. Is anyone hurt?”
Again, everyone started talking at once and Jake shook her head, again holding up both hands.
“Come on now. Give me a break here.” She pointed at one of them. “You. Talk.”
Abby stepped forward, her head cocked. “You damn near ran us down. Who the hell are you?”
Jake raised an eyebrow. “Jake McCoy. Who the hell are you?”
“You got a phone?”
“You got a name?”
Abby shifted nervously, looking away from Jake’s intense stare, then glancing at the others. “I’m Abby.”
Jake nodded then looked over the group. “Sara Michaels?”
Abby’s eyes widened. “How do you know Sara?”
Jake shrugged. “I’m a . . . I’m a cop,” she said, surprised at how easily the words flowed. “I understand somebody might be after her.”
Abby put her hands on her hips. “Well that’s a bit of an understatement.”
Chapter Forty-Four
Jaime moved along the edge of town, keeping to the trees as she made her way to the general store. She’d gone back to the house they’d stayed at last night, trying to make it obvious that they’d been there. Been there and were now gone. She purposefully left the kitchen a mess, hoping he’d see they’d eaten and taken off. What she wanted to avoid was him doing a cabin-by-cabin search. If he slipped past her—or got past her—she didn’t want him finding Megan. Shotgun or not, she doubted Megan would be able to shoot.
But she wasn’t planning on letting him slip past her.
She paused under the thick boughs of a low-growing spruce tree, scanning the outskirts of the old town with her binoculars, looking for movement. Of course if he was smart, he’d be behind the trees, looking for movement in town. She had to remind herself he had a rifle. A rifle with a scope. She had to stay behind cover.
When she saw nothing out of the ordinary, she moved again, keeping to the shadows. She looked back over her shoulder the way she’d come, expecting to see the old dirt road empty. But the flash of red startled her. She snatched up her binoculars, staring.
“Goddammit!” She lowered her binoculars. I’ll kill her.
She jumped up, running. She ran into the trees, sprinting back the way she’d come. She stumbled once, nearly falling, but caught herself. She stopped, trying to catch her breath, trying to judge where she was. Through the forest, she made out their cabin from last night. She took a deep breath, then ran, assuming Sara would go there first. The tree cover gave way to the small clearing beside the house. She raced to the house, diving behind the back, away from the road. She saw her just as she rounded the corner.
“Sara!” she hissed as loud as she dared.
Sara stopped, her eyes widening when she saw Jaime. She ran toward her, her smile fading at the angry glint in Jaime’s eyes.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Jaime demanded.
“I . . . I was afraid to leave you behind.”
Jaime grabbed her, pulling her onto the back deck and through the door they’d broken into yesterday. Once inside, she held Sara against the wall, her hands tight on her shoulders.
“Sara, goddammit, you’ve got to think. You’re running around with a bull’s-eye on your back.”
Sara glanced at the bright red New You sweatshirt she’d worn that morning. It was the warmest thing she’d packed. She closed her eyes, nodding.
“I guess you’re mad,” she stated quietly.
“I’m beyond mad.” Jaime released her grip on Sara’s shoulders then pulled her into a quick, awkward embrace.
“I had a bad feeling, Jaime. That’s all.”
“Yeah? Well what kind of a bad feeling do you think I’d have had if he’d seen you just now and gotten a shot off?”
“Look, I told you last night and I told you again this morning, I didn’t like the idea of us splitting up.”
“Sara, the whole point of this is for you to be safe. You’re not now.”
“The whole point is not just for me to be safe. I don’t outrank anyone else in this group. I don’t deserve more consideration. He’s not just after me anymore. He’s after all of us. You included.”
Jaime’s eyes flashed. “I need you to be safe. And you were safe when you walked
out of here with the others.”
“You need me to be safe? Will it be a black mark on your record if something happens to me? Is it going to set your career back?”
Jaime was startled by the anger in Sara’s voice. Her eyes softened immediately.
“Sara, I don’t give a damn about my career. I need you to be safe for me, not my job. It’s totally selfish, trust me.”
“Then why can’t I be selfish too?”
Jaime closed her eyes, her heavy sigh quite audible in the empty house. Well, it was too late now. She couldn’t very well send Sara out of here again. It was too late for that. She opened her eyes again.
“Okay. The first thing we’ve got to do is get you out of this red Santa suit.”
“I’m sorry, Jaime. I just—”
“No. It’s okay. To be quite honest, I was worried as hell as soon as you left my sight.”
Sara nodded. “Megan?”
Jaime smiled. “How do you feel about spiders and stuff?”
Chapter Forty-Five
He climbed higher, pausing to catch his breath as he peered through the trees, just barely able to make out the buildings of the old ghost town. Earlier, when he first reached St. Elmo, he moved off the trail and into the woods. He had visions of the bitches hiding, waiting for him, all armed with sticks and stones, ready to attack. Well, he wasn’t stupid. He would hike along the ridge above town then come in from the back side.
And then he would decide. If some of the summer residents were still about, if tourists were out and about, he’d have to abort the mission. He wasn’t going to take a chance at getting caught. No, he’d just disappear, leave the country. They’d paid him half up front. And after all he’d been through for the last week and a half, he felt he was due that, even if he didn’t get his target.
But he’d done his research. He knew all about St. Elmo. All along it was going to be his destination after the kill, his means of escaping out of these mountains. He knew the general store closed after Labor Day. He knew most of the summer residents left then too. And he knew the town would be mostly deserted until the snows came and brought skiers with it. No, he felt confident that there would be no one about during the middle of the week, especially on such a cold, windy day like today. He’d still get his target.