Treacherous Mountain Investigation

by Stephanie M. Gammon

  She shoved her computer bag against her well-worn luggage then leaned against the bumper as if the weight of the world had fallen on her shoulders. Her head drooped. “I know.”

  Lucas’s whirring car noises floated through the interior as Yakub’s back became his newest racetrack.

  Riggen sidled up to Liz and bumped her hip with his. She was closed off, and it was probably best if he left her that way. But he couldn’t let her fade under the weight alone.

  He pulled her close. Her hair tickled his nose, the lavender sweetness of it teasing his senses and pitching his pulse. He pressed her head against his shoulder. “It’s going to be okay.”

  She shuddered. When she tilted her head to look at him, his breath caught and his arms tightened around her, instinctively trying to steady himself.

  “What if it’s already over?” she whispered, her lips so close he could almost feel their movement against his jaw. “What if that’s all it was?”

  As much as he wanted to reassure her, he couldn’t. Her worried forehead begged for comfort and he pressed a light kiss across the creases. Then he stood, desperate to distance himself from the emotions she was stirring. “You know that’s not true.”

  “So I’m just stuck with you until this ends? I can’t put my entire life on hold.”

  He stepped away before she could twist the knife again. “Yeah. Stuck with me.”

  She rubbed her temples. “I didn’t mean that how it sounded.”

  Lucas stopped playing with his cars and two sets of eyes turned to watch them. Riggen took a deep breath and lowered his voice. “I’m not asking you to put your life on hold. I simply want to provide for your safety.” He nodded in Lucas’s direction. “And his.”

  “I only ever think about what’s best for him.” Liz pushed the words past gritted teeth.

  “I wasn’t saying you weren’t.” Jones picked that moment to strut from the station and head their way, a smirk on his face. He’d probably just heard the news that Riggen wouldn’t be back for a while.

  He shook it off and leaned down to speak in Liz’s ear. “I’m going to ensure no one will threaten or hurt my family.”

  Her eyes widened, her pupils black pinpricks in a sea of green and brown. She stepped closer. The tips of her shoes butted against the toes of his boots and her nose was inches from his chest. She looked up at him all fire and fury. “Blood doesn’t make family.” And with that final twist of the knife, she climbed into the Bronco.

  * * *

  Riggen hadn’t spoken more than was necessary since she had stomped to the car. Shame wormed through Liz over her outburst. She’d thought her days of losing control were behind her.

  She could feel her hold on her emotions loosening. It was terrifying. She’d never go back to the black days she’d experienced when Riggen had abandoned her. With the help of God, she’d worked too hard to climb from that pit.

  Blowing air from her cheeks, she swallowed. Do not be afraid. “I told Lucas we might have a bit of an adventure today. Do you think it would be safe?”

  “Adventure!” Lucas chimed from the back seat.

  Riggen winked at Lucas through the rearview mirror before turning to her. She cringed at the pain in his eyes. “All the other—” he glanced in the mirror again and lowered his voice “—incidents were obviously planned. Everyone knew where you were staying thanks to social media updates. It was easy to follow you. We’re off-grid now. As long as we stay that way, a brief stop won’t be a problem.”

  Relief nudged the shame aside when she heard his friendly tone. An apology for her earlier barb sat on the tip of her tongue but five years of loneliness held it in place.

  “Thanks.” She threaded her fingers together and placed her hands in her lap. She cut a glance at him. “Ice cream and Rainbow Falls?”

  “Ice cream?” Lucas strained against his seat belt, his eyes widening.

  She laughed and swiveled in her seat. “You must have bionic hearing, child.”

  Riggen turned right down a backroad and then turned right again at the next intersection, taking them by the police station again.

  “Did you forget something?”

  “Just backtracking to make sure we haven’t been followed.”

  She studied the side mirror. The road behind them was empty save for a trolley. She shrugged. “Anyway, ice cream?”

  He nodded, pressing the gas and angling off of Manitou Avenue. “Sure. I need to make a quick stop at the office and then we’ll head over.”

  He pulled out his cell. “Do you mind if Trevor meets us? I’d love him to see Lucas.”

  Her earlier anxiety returned and settled in her belly. Trevor hadn’t helped when she had tried to find Riggen. Did she want to wade into the mess of feelings that surrounded that? She was already further down the reconciliation road than she wanted to be.

  She looked back at Lucas, playing with his toy, and then over at the man who was his mirror image. Hope flickered in Riggen’s eyes—faint, as if one word from her would snuff it out.

  She couldn’t bring herself to hurt him again today any more than she could make herself ready to hear why he had left, to hear why Trevor had turned her away. She squeezed her hands together and took a deep breath. It was just a couple minutes and then it’d be over. “Sure.”

  The grin that overtook his face whisked the breath from her body.

  TEN

  Liz set Lucas down in the parking area for Rainbow Falls, better known as Graffiti Falls to the locals. She scrubbed her palms up and down the sides of her cut-off shorts, her fingers gooey from Lucas’s ice-cream treat.

  Multicolored drips oozed down her son’s chin and stained the front of his T-shirt. Yakub lapped up drips as they hit the ground. She hunched down and pressed a kiss to Lucas’s sticky lips. “Silly boy.”

  She swabbed a wet wipe over his mouth and his face crumpled. Well, someone had to remove the sugary mess. The cleaning wasn’t as horrific as Lucas made it out to be. Any onlooker would think she was torturing him. Riggen met her eyes over Lucas’s head, his expression mirroring her amusement.

  She tossed the dirty wipe into the Bronco. It landed on a stack of business files. After they had stopped for ice cream, Riggen had driven them to Price Adventure Excursions. Trevor had been out of the office. One small prayer answered.

  “Did you find what you were looking for?” She moved the wipe off the files.

  “I have some ideas for additional income. Thought I’d look through to see if it’ll work with our vendors.” His lips thinned. “I don’t know how long Trevor can pay us both.”

  “I don’t need to leave for the expo until tomorrow if you need help.”

  At her words, Riggen stopped scanning the lot and speared her with a look she couldn’t quite place. She reached down and grasped Lucas’s hand. “We can start after the falls. This guy’s about tuckered out.”

  As if to prove her point, Lucas plugged his mouth with one very sticky thumb and frowned. Then he tugged away from her, his hand slipping from her own. Closing the few feet that separated them, Lucas held his arms up to Riggen.

  Riggen blinked quickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he bent to gather his son into his arms. Their identical heads leaned toward one another and Liz stumbled back.

  Riggen ruffled Lucas’s hair. “Do you know what’s down that path?”

  Lucas plopped out his thumb, the suction noise bringing a smile to his father’s face. “Adventure,” he whispered.

  “Adventure,” Riggen echoed. The man shifted Lucas’s weight to one arm as if the boy weighed no more than a bag of groceries and then turned to her, his hand extended.

  A barrel of bees raged in Liz’s stomach. The moment reflected every errant daydream she’d had over the last five years. Trust him. The thought blew the bees away and knocked off the armor she had been trying so hard to h
old in place.

  She sidestepped Yakub and slid her hand into Riggen’s calloused grip. The friction of their touch sparked a million memories. Lucas snuggled into Riggen’s chest, his tiny bottom secure in her ex-fiancé’s arms.

  “You know they spent over a million dollars to remove the graffiti from these rocks last spring.”

  Liz looked at the cliff wall. They were strolling down an avenue of urban art. “Did they not get to this part?”

  He chuckled and kicked a pebble along the trail. Red clouds of dirt puffed in its wake. “They cleaned it all. Within a matter of months, it was back.”

  She studied the kaleidoscope of color. “I guess people didn’t want to lose Graffiti Falls.”

  “It’s a local treasure.”

  Silence fell as they walked under the bridge that arched over the small oasis. Its aged surface was covered in messages and pictures that matched Lucas’s ice-cream stains for vibrancy.

  Beyond the bridge, a thin, sparkling waterfall thundered forty-five feet to a plunge pool encased by steep rock walls on three sides. A few teens were wading under its shower, their laughter echoing in the canyon.

  Lucas wiggled and pushed against Riggen’s chest, his excitement sparkling as bright as the water itself. Liz nodded her approval.

  “Stay along the edge.” She cocked an eyebrow at her son. “We don’t want to take a soaking-wet boy back to the car.”

  Lucas bobbed his head up and down so fast she was afraid he’d give himself a headache. “Okay, okay.” She laughed. “Go play.”

  He and Yakub ran to the edge, both skidding to a stop as their feet met the cold mountain stream. Riggen stepped back and stood next to her. She’d forgotten how he towered over her. She found herself leaning slightly closer, pulled in by his steady presence.

  She slanted her head up and shielded her eyes against the sun. “Did they find Kris yet?”

  He met her look and searched her eyes a moment. “The concierge? No. Rosche will update us after they pay a visit to her home.”

  Liz hugged herself and rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “She seemed so nice.”

  “I’ve seen nice people do awful things.”

  She kicked a pebble between her feet. “What about the blog comment?”

  “Alex’ll get back to us as soon as he finds something.” Riggen cleared his throat and squeezed the back of his neck. “I don’t want to step in where I’ve not earned the right...but maybe you should rethink the expo.”

  Heat radiated up her neck and her muscles tensed in a domino-like effect at his words. First Kat, now Riggen. Could neither of them leave her to make her own decisions?

  She leaned down and picked up a rock, skipping it over the turbulent surface of the water before she trusted herself to answer. “I can’t miss it.”

  “Look, Mama!” Lucas splashed a toy down into the water and gasped with surprise as he sprayed himself in the face.

  A crowd of tourists ran behind them to the falls and Riggen moved closer, his arm brushing hers. “Anyone who knows anything about you knows you’ve been planning on attending.” The gray depths of his eyes stirred with intensity. “It’s crowded, chaotic. The perfect opportunity to attack.”

  She shook her head. “What if this is all just scare tactics? What if that’s the point? Other people want this job. What if one of them thought they’d get it by scaring me off? I’m not letting them win.”

  “So you’d take Lucas with you?” He stuffed a hand in his hair, sticking his white cowlick straight in the air.

  She sighed and turned to watch Lucas plunge his toy back into the frigid water. “I don’t know what to do.” Boy, did that hurt to admit. The last twenty-four hours crashed on her with a thousand gallons of worry. “I can’t lose a job that will provide for him.”

  He grasped her hand. “We’ll figure it out. But the job isn’t worth—” He let go and pointed at Lucas’s hand. “What’s that?”

  She squinted. “The toy you bought him?”

  But Riggen was already charging toward the water’s edge. “It’s not,” he called over his shoulder. “Where’d you get this, buddy?”

  Liz followed him, reaching Riggen just as he hunkered down next to Lucas. A blinking red light emitted from the undercarriage of a toy bomber.

  Lucas puffed out his chest. “The wady at the ice-cream store.”

  The color drained from Riggen’s face as he shot Liz a questioning glance. She shook her head, no idea what Lucas was talking about.

  Hefting Lucas into his arms, Riggen pressed his son’s face into his chest before hurling the toy into the swirling stream. It crashed on an exposed stone. “Tracking device. We need to leave.”

  Liz’s heart splattered on the graffitied ground even as a cry of angry despair burst from Lucas.

  Riggen tugged her hand, pulling her back the way they had come. Yakub bounded behind them and Lucas’s cries swirled around them. “Call 9-1-1.”

  “My phone is dead.” Her voice cracked.

  He dropped her hand and passed her his cell. She dialed and relayed their location as he unsnapped his holster.

  The swollen stream roared to their right and tourists congested the path to their left. She turned her head to search the faces behind her and stumbled. Riggen caught her, pulling her against him.

  Lucas whimpered at their collision. They were so close to the Bronco now. Within sprinting distance.

  Four other cars sat in the lot. A woman pulled a toddler from one. Teens poured from another. Every person was unaware of her terror. Yakub growled, setting every hair on her arm on end.

  Riggen’s grasp tightened. “Almost there.”

  Someone screamed. “He has a gun!”

  She looked at Riggen, but his hand was still on her. His other arm surrounded Lucas. They weren’t talking about him. “God, help us,” she moaned.

  Riggen crouched, shielding Lucas. He pulled her close and pushed them toward the Bronco. Yakub’s growl intensified with every second.

  Riggen yanked the door open. “Get in.”

  She scrambled in and pulled Lucas into his seat, grabbing at his seat belt. Yakub jumped in behind her. Her hands trembled, clattering the buckles as she struggled to lock them.

  Riggen crashed into the driver’s seat and slammed the truck into gear. “Hold on!” Gravel hit the undercarriage as the passenger’s mirror exploded into shards of glass.

  She screamed. Lucas burst into body-shaking sobs. “Get down!” Riggen reached back and pushed her head down. She threw her arms over Lucas.

  Riggen steered the truck in reverse through the lot. Screams filtered through the half-open windows. Then he jerked the wheel, sending the Bronco into a turn that threw them forward. They shot from the lot onto Serpentine Drive.

  Liz bolted upright and stared out the back window. A black SUV peeled out of the lot behind them.

  “Phone.” Riggen held out his hand. He hit Speed Dial and cut the wheel to the right, sliding the truck onto a side road. Dirt clouds surrounded them in a golden-red haze. “Shots fired. Officer in need of assistance.” He handed her the phone. “Speaker.”

  She hit the button, letting him shout updates over Lucas’s sobs as they careened down the mountain road.

  A police SUV raced at them with lights flashing and sirens blaring. It passed, its tires squealing as it executed a U-turn to join the chase. They blew past another side road. She watched in the rearview mirror as their pursuer turned off behind them, the police SUV following.

  Relief hit her with the shock of a frigid mountain stream. Riggen pulled to the side of the road and another police SUV stopped behind them. He turned to her and cradled the side of her face. His eyes were full of fear and yet tender at the same time.

  With that look, her dams broke. She joined Lucas in all his wailing glory.

  * * *

 
Silent darkness had long since enveloped the cabin. After heading to the station to inspect every square inch of the Bronco for additional tracking devices, he had taken them on a long and winding journey through multiple backtracks and switchbacks to get home.

  It had taken Liz the better part of the evening to calm Lucas enough to sleep. Riggen wasn’t sure how she’d done it when she’d looked on the brink of a full-fledged breakdown herself.

  The mantel clock chimed ten o’clock and Riggen scooted to the edge of the couch, half rising from his seat to go call Yakub inside, but he stopped. The dog would serve them best outside, prowling the perimeter. He’d alert if anyone came near.

  Wind whistled through the cracks of the ancient cabin walls as the ticking clock beat a steady cadence over the empty fireplace. He punched his pillow. Sleep wouldn’t come. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Liz’s anguished face.

  He’d seen that fear on another mother’s face. Guilt swirled through his gut. He should have been here, protecting and providing for his family. But, instead, he’d been in Iraq, trying to protect another woman’s child from a suicide bomber, and he’d failed all the way around.

  Pulling a heavy quilt up over his shoulders, he tried to shut out the memories. Memories of failure. Of hospitals. Of finding out that being thrown in the explosion had ruined any chance he’d had of being a father.

  How he wanted forgiveness. From Liz. From the family he hadn’t saved. From God even. He punched the pillow again. Forgiveness was a fool’s wish. The best he could hope for now was the strength to get Liz and Lucas through this threat without failing again.

  The couch cushion beside him lowered. He shot forward and slid his hand across the butt of his Glock.

  “Just me.” Liz pulled her legs up onto the small cushioned ledge and rested her chin on her knees.

  Moonbeams illuminated the sweep of her cheekbone. Five years had formed subtle changes in this woman he’d once loved. His fingers ached to trace her wounded but brave beauty. He curled his hands into fists. She wasn’t his and never would be.