Treacherous Mountain Investigation

by Stephanie M. Gammon

  “No. I try to steer traffic away from that post. I was still finding my niche back then. Now?” She lifted her shoulders and let them fall. “The gotcha angle doesn’t fit my brand anymore.”

  His forehead puckered.

  “It has a lot to do with Lucas.” She nodded at the back seat. “When that post went viral, I was as surprised as anyone. I never expected so much exposure. But the visibility came with the Malcovitch threats.

  “I had our son’s safety to consider and the harassment was making me fall apart. It was never overt enough to report, but he had his goons stalking me, sending bouquets of sagebrush to my house, slashing my tires, calling and hanging up.

  “It was enough to scare me to death and no one was there to help but Kat and John. The anxiety of wondering how I could keep my baby safe was too much to handle. No wonder Kat thinks I need her to run my life. I was definitely having problems handling it then.” She winced at the look of pain that flashed across Riggen’s face.

  Well, she couldn’t change the truth to make it more palatable for the man who had disappeared on her. “So I focused less on finding the most interesting angle and just went with painting a compelling picture that would lure people from behind their computer screens and into the waiting arms of nature. Anyway, it pays.”

  “But not enough to move away from John and Kat?”

  “Ouch. Straight for the jugular. No, not always. But I have a steady job lined up with American Travel. It’s good money. Enough money. And it’s remote work.”

  At the mention of the premier, regional travel magazine, Riggen emitted a low whistle. “I’m proud of you, Lizzy.”

  Ridiculous warmth flowed from her heart down into her belly at his words. “Thanks. It’s not a sure thing...yet.” She massaged the sore muscles in her neck. “If I can prove that my voice meshes with their corporate vision, then I’ll get the open travel editor position. Kimberly wants proof I’m a good match.

  “My opportunity is Friday at the Rocky Mountain Travel and Adventure Expo. It’s kind of a big deal.” She stuck her hands under her legs and leaned forward. “Needless to say, I’ve put the Sagebrush behind me, except...”

  “What?”

  She chewed her bottom lip. “Except for a strange comment on the Sagebrush blog entry last week. It slipped my mind until now.”

  “What did it say?”

  “‘Your fifteen minutes has come to an end.’”

  His hands gripped the steering wheel until each knuckle stood out as a white-tipped peak. “Who made the comment?”

  “No clue. My filter placed it into the blocked comments. I barely paid it any attention.”

  A lone streetlight flashed across the granite-like set of his jaw and then they were driving away from the last cluster of homes and farther into the inky darkness of the mountainside. “I’d like to take a look at the back end of your web site. I have a friend who can track those things.”

  “Police?”

  He gave her a bemused look. “Faster.”

  The higher the Bronco climbed, the lower her stomach plummeted. Her usernames, passwords and saved log-ins were on her laptop—and that was at the Juniper. She couldn’t go back there tonight, and she couldn’t go home. She was anchorless, at sea, and at the mercy of her ex-fiancé.

  She leaned her head against the cool glass of his window. For once she wished she could sit and throw a Lucas-worthy tantrum. But there were no tears left.

  She just stared into the dark night. The sky was backlit by a million flickering wishes. “Yeah,” she mumbled. “Maybe.”

  * * *

  “Make yourself at home.” Riggen placed Liz’s plastic bag on the Price cabin’s kitchen island and leaned against the wooden surface before pulling up his phone’s contact list.

  He scrolled through the names to find Alex Ivie. He and Alex had served together until the explosion. The injuries Alex sustained had retired him early. Now he was pursuing a different kind of fight—contracting to the FBI as an ethical hacker.

  Just the guy they needed tonight. Riggen typed out a text, asking for help in finding the origin of Liz’s blog comment.

  Setting his phone down, he returned his attention to Liz and Lucas. Liz puttered around the cabin, cradling their son against her, Lucas’s little-boy body almost engulfing her. Lucas still slept. Riggen grinned. Maybe the boy took after his old man in more than looks. The little guy could probably sleep through an air strike.

  Walking deeper into the cabin’s main area, Liz turned in a circle. Her eyes roved over every inch of the open living space as she trudged across the worn cowskin rug into the fully updated kitchen.

  She was graceful even while her arms overflowed with sleeping boy. When she reached the farmhouse dining table, she sank into a cushioned chair and snuggled Lucas closer.

  His son stirred and nuzzled his face into Liz’s neck, mussing his cowlick against her chin. Riggen’s breath caught. His son.

  They looked lost and vulnerable. He shifted against the island. If anything could drive a man to prayer, it was this.

  No matter how he wanted to spell it out, they were tied together. Family. He’d overheard John telling Liz that God had sent her a protector. That single sentence had sparked a sliver of hope that refused to be snuffed.

  He ripped his eyes from Liz and Lucas to double-check that the cabin door was locked. Somewhere out there, someone wanted to harm his family. It would be nice to lean on someone stronger than himself.

  Then again, Dad had relied on God. He stiffened. Look where Dad’s trust had gotten him—dead from a heart attack in the prime of his life. He should be here, teaching his grandson to fish and climb and ride.

  Riggen shoved his hand through his hair and pushed away from the counter. “You’ll both be safe here while we figure out our next steps.”

  Liz startled at his voice then stared at him a moment before nodding. The lids over her hazel eyes were drooping. Was she taking in his words or just fighting to stay awake? He lumbered to the closet, each worn pine board groaning under his tread.

  “No one would link this place to me,” she agreed. “I never even told John and Kat about it.”

  He opened the closet door, pulled down a quilt and tossed the bedclothes on the couch. He’d bunk down here and let Liz and Lucas sleep in the bed that dominated the open loft above them.

  He turned back to Liz and found her shoulders were drooping. He plopped on the couch arm. “Would you like to head to bed? Or I can rustle up a midnight snack if you prefer.”

  Lucas stirred in Liz’s arms and sat upright for the first time that night. His hair stood on end and he unplugged his thumb from his mouth before fisting the sleep from his eyes. “I’m hungry.”

  Liz straightened and tickled his belly. “You wake up in a strange place with a strange man and the first thing you say is ‘I’m hungry’?”

  Strange man? Liz’s words were like a fist in the eye. He was a stranger with no place in their lives.

  Lucas lifted tiny shoulders to even tinier ears and let them fall back. His scrunched brow said he didn’t appreciate being questioned. “My tummy wants food.” The boy gave Liz a coy look before diving back into his tattered blanket. Watching them, Riggen could see Liz was putty in his son’s hands.

  Liz turned to him with a questioning look and he swept his arm at the efficiency-size kitchen behind him.

  “We keep the freezer pretty well stocked.” He jumped up and headed to the kitchen, ruffling Lucas’s hair on the way by. “My specialty is mac and cheese.”

  Giggles ignited behind him. He turned and winked before pulling open the freezer door.

  “Mac and cheese please,” Lucas said. But it sounded more like “pwease.” And just like that, Riggen felt his heart reduced to the same putty-status as Liz’s.

  “Coming right up, buddy.” He pulled out the cardboard box.
“Anything for your momma?”

  “Momma wikes russel snouts.” Lucas shuddemred.

  Riggen caught Liz’s eye just as she stuffed a hand over the lower half of her face. Her eyes twinkled above her fingers.

  “That sounds awful.” Riggen mimicked Lucas’s shudder. “I don’t have any of those.” He stuck his index finger to the side of his chin in exaggerated thought. “But...what do you think about...mac and cheese?”

  Lucas fist-pumped the air. “Yes!”

  Liz snuggled Lucas until he sighed and pushed away to explore his new territory.

  “He’s not shy, is he?” Riggen pulled out three frozen meals and set them on the counter.

  Liz joined him, opening drawer after drawer until she reached the flatware. “No. That’s one of the things I love most about him.” Her eyes clouded. “Life is such an adventure to him. I hope he never loses that.”

  He took the fork she held out. “Have you lost that?”

  Her face blanked and she pushed the drawer closed. “Sometimes adventure doesn’t seem worth the pain.” Reaching across him, she grabbed one of the boxes, ripped it open, and then stood on tiptoes to place the tray in the microwave oven.

  His phone vibrated against the granite countertop and he stepped away from her to glance at the screen.

  Love to help. Send the info.-Alex

  Riggen wiped his hands down his pant legs and picked up the phone to respond.

  Don’t have passwords now. Will let you know when we get them.

  His phone buzzed again before he could put it back down.

  Funny you think I need them. Just send web address.

  Riggen shook his head. Ethical hacker. Thankfully, Alex stayed in the realm of integrity. He set the phone down and looked at Liz. “We have help on tracking that comment.”

  Her eyebrows touched the wisps of bangs that refused to stay put. “Do you think it’ll help?”

  “He’s the most effective tech resource I have. If there’s anything behind that comment, he’ll ferret it out.”

  She nodded, relief sweeping the signs of tension from her forehead.

  Lucas came crashing back into the kitchen, Yakub at his heels. “Look what I found!” He grasped the Hot Wheels package to his chest.

  Riggen set another freezer tray in the microwave. “They’re all yours, buddy.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Lucas plopped down in the middle of the kitchen floor and tore into the package. Soon, he was zooming cars along a tile-and-grout track.

  Riggen leaned against the counter and watched. His son’s manners were impressive. What was more impressive was that Liz had done this all on her own. The microwave dinged behind him and Riggen whirled to remove the steaming tray, suddenly desperate to shut the sweet display from his sight.

  Liz was there because she needed him. It was simple logic. When this was over, he’d just be the strange man again. He listened to Liz and Lucas play, their giggles and chatter filling the lonely cabin space. They were complete—and better off—without him.

  NINE

  Liz cuddled Lucas under Riggen’s warm down comforter and listened as the man himself washed dishes in the kitchen below. He’d insisted she and Lucas go on to bed as he cleaned up alone, mumbling something about rest after trauma.

  She pulled Lucas’s warm body closer. But had there been more to it? Was he regretting taking on the role of protector now that he was faced with the reality of a son?

  “Mama?” Lucas turned in her arms and waited, thumb in mouth, his face contorted into a concerned frown.

  “Yes, sweetheart?” She rubbed the worry crease in the middle of his forehead.

  “Why was that man sad?”

  Her sigh whooshed the bangs away from Lucas’s face. Her sweet boy was observant, but she didn’t even have the beginnings of an answer. She wished she had. For him. For herself. For Riggen. The realization that she cared how Riggen felt floored her.

  She stared over Lucas’s head into the darkened cabin, the faint sounds of Riggen preparing for bed drifting up to the loft. “He’s had a rough day.”

  Lucas, in typical four-year-old fashion, accepted the answer at face value and clamped back onto his thumb, his eyelids drooping slowly until they closed.

  “He’ll be better tomorrow. Do you want to know why?” Liz kissed the crook of Lucas’s neck, tickling his warm skin with a shower of love. Giggles washed over her like rays of moonlight.

  “Because we’ll have an adventure?” he answered, breathless from giggling.

  “You betcha.” They leaned heads together and nestled back into the plush pillows. Liz prayed her words were true.

  Lucas relaxed and his breathing evened into the comfortable sound of childhood trust. What would she do to have his innocence again? She turned and kissed his perfect cheek. To be able to rest in the absolute peace of knowing she was wanted and loved.

  “May you never know any different.” She could almost feel the vibration of Dad’s old Buick under her, the scratchy seat cover on her legs. He’d promised to come back, just like Riggen had. Both men’s promises had turned out false.

  Moonlight poured through the two-story picture window and curtained their bed. In the morning, they’d look out on Pikes Peak, but tonight all she could see was the light of a million stars. A million reminders of how small she was. Be strong and courageous. She repositioned Lucas on the pillow and slipped from the bed.

  Crossing to the loft railing, she leaned into it and stared through the window. Surely if God had placed every one of them in the sky, He could place her and Lucas in safety.

  A scraping drew her attention to the first floor, and she looked down to see Riggen moving from the kitchen to the couch. Was John right? Had God really sent Riggen to them?

  She wrapped her arms around herself and watched as he laid out his blanket and pillow before hunching on the edge of the seat like an old man, tired and worn. He removed his boots and placed them beside the coffee table then cradled his head in his hands.

  She felt pulled to him as if he was silently summoning her. She reached out and grasped the railing, gripping until her knuckles turned white. Closing her eyes, she held on tight until the temptation passed. Only danger lay that way.

  * * *

  Lucas whooped from his perch on Riggen’s shoulders. Ouch! Though Lucas gripped handfuls of his hair to keep from falling, Riggen wouldn’t trade this moment for anything. It would be over soon enough. Yakub bounded around their feet, the new Hot Wheels forgotten on the front seat of the Bronco as the three ran through the police station parking lot in the early morning light.

  Riggen reached up and pulled a still-giggling boy over his head, swinging him in a wide circle before setting him onto the pavement. He’d already been inside to discuss the case developments with Rosche and now Liz was retrieving her belongings from evidence.

  Rosche was done at the Juniper. After running tests on Liz’s discarded water bottles, food containers and toiletries, they had found the evidence they needed. Rohypnol in her mineral water—compliments of management.

  According to the general manager, the concierge who had provided the bottles hadn’t shown up for work. Kris Dupree was in the wind.

  Lucas stumbled toward the open Bronco on unsteady feet, the parking lot rang with his laughter. Despite the danger and tension, the boy’s shining happiness was weaving into the fabric of Riggen’s soul in a way he’d never be able to unravel.

  He’d played with Dad and Trevor in the same way once upon a time. Concerns of a less-than-ideal childhood had been blown away by the whoosh of fresh air and adventures in their mountainside playhouse.

  He’d love to show Lucas his old playhouse someday. He squelched that dream before it had a chance to settle, instead helping the boy climb back into the Bronco. Lucas gripped the now-remembered toy cars in his dimpled fists the same way Riggen
wanted to grip his family.

  What if he did hike mountains with Lucas, roast marshmallows and count the stars? Surely God wouldn’t hold it against him if he gave Lucas a glimpse into the fun he’d had as a kid.

  Riggen leaned his shoulder against the truck and crossed one foot over the other. He wanted more than to just be their protector until this danger passed. He wanted a relationship with his son.

  That was going to make it that much more complicated when Liz didn’t need his protection anymore. He fisted the aching spot in his chest and pushed the thought away.

  The station door screeched open and Liz walked out. She rolled a suitcase behind her, a laptop bag strapped across her chest. He pushed off the truck to help her.

  “Get everything?”

  She nodded. “My phone’s dead, so I called Kat while I was inside.” She hefted her bags down the stairs and into the lot. “That went well.”

  He raised an eyebrow as he took her suitcase and transferred it into the back of the Bronco.

  “The damage to their rental was minimal.” She pulled the laptop bag over her head. “They’ve met with their landlord and can leave Colorado tomorrow after they get the rest of our things into storage. But she doesn’t think it’s wise for Lucas to stay with me.”

  Riggen reached for the laptop. “You and Lucas are under my protection until we have a clearer picture of what’s going on.”

  Liz froze, her grip firm on the bag. Its bulk hung between them. “So I’m doing the wrong thing if I keep him and the wrong thing if I send him away. Everyone thinks they can make this decision for me.”

  He let go of the bag’s strap and leaned back against the Bronco, surveyed the parking lot. “I’m not trying to insinuate either decision is wrong, or that it’s not your decision to make.” He crossed his arms over his chest and forced himself to relax. She looked like a doe about to bolt. “You asked me to protect both of you. I intend to do that.”