Her other hand was still securely tied to the back of the chair. She contorted her torso, trying to untie the remaining knot.
Something crunched in the groundcover outside the thin walls of her prison. Her hand trembled in the tangle of rope. She couldn’t get the knot to loosen. “Do not be afraid because of them,” she whispered into the flickering light of the oil lantern.
Her nail broke against the frayed rope edge. Sharp nylon spliced into her nail bed. She cried out, the pain pushing her tears over the edge and down her cheeks.
The doorknob turned, stopping her heartbeat and strangling her breath. She twisted back into place and slipped both hands behind her as Trevor pushed the door open and entered. Kris Dupree sauntered in behind him.
Kris’s previously warm blue eyes had turned wintry cold and her red lips drew back in a snarl when they landed on Liz. “Tied up like a present.” She inclined her head at Trevor.
The ice in Kris’s voice froze any hope Liz had of escaping. She darted a look at the open door. Even if she could get her other hand untied to free her legs, she’d never find her way down the dangerous mountainside. Not after that storm.
Soft laughter bubbled like a mountain brook from Kris. She strutted to stand over Liz and ran one rounded fingernail down Liz’s cheek. Shivers danced through Liz’s body, but she refused to react.
Kris knelt in front of her until they were eye-to-eye. “I’ve been looking forward to this.”
Fear not, nor be afraid of them: for the Lord thy God... He will not fail thee, nor forsake thee. “Why?”
Kris leaned forward and rested her hands on Liz’s knees. She smiled into Liz’s face, their noses mere inches apart. Liz could see the shiny wetness of her eyeballs.
“When Trevor told me American Travel had interviewed you for a position...well, I couldn’t let the woman who had ruined Sammy’s life climb that ladder of success with no repercussions. Could I?”
Liz shot a glance at Trevor. He smirked at her before Kris started talking again.
“It was just for fun at the beginning. Just trying to put a smile on Sammy’s face. There was so little to entertain him, stuck in that prison.” She squeezed Liz’s kneecap. “You understand? A girl wants her man to be happy. And, boy, did he hate you. You ruined everything for him. His business. His life. But what could he do about it from prison?”
Kris stood. “I knew he’d enjoy seeing me play with you a bit. And he did. We laughed so hard at the thought of you hog-tied on Pikes Peak. He liked it so much, he wanted me to go all the way.”
Liz tried to swallow the lump of fear that was growing in her throat. She squeezed her hands together behind her. If only she could see Lucas and Riggen one more time.
Riggen? Tears filled her eyes. Yes, Riggen. She wanted to wrap her arms around him. Tell him she forgave him. She wanted to see the love in his eyes one more time. She’d been so blind.
Kris turned, those blue eyes full of hate. “I would have made it tolerable for you. But then you—” Her voice clogged and she fanned her face with her hand until she had control again. “You had him killed.”
“I did not have him...wait!” Liz’s attention bounced back to Trevor as Kris’s words fell into place in her mind. “How did you know I had been interviewed by American Travel?”
He plopped down on the ratty mattress. “Kim let it slip one night at dinner, along with the fact that you were a single mom. I put two and two together and figured it was Riggen’s kid.”
Kris’s laughter echoed into the small building. She turned to Trevor. “A fact that you conveniently exploited.”
He lifted his shoulders in a half shrug.
Liz didn’t know who to watch, her eyes darting back and forth between the duo. Their calculation sent ice through her every cell. “What does that mean? ‘Conveniently exploited’?”
Kris hitched a thumb at Trevor. “He’s been looking to get good old Riggen out of the way for years. And what’s the one thing baby brother desires more than anything else?” She smirked. “Family. It’s simple logic. Threaten family and you have brother in your hands.”
There was nothing simple about it. Liz’s brain was bursting and she lashed out at Trevor with all the anger and desperation that had been building inside. “How could you? All this for what? For the business? For your father’s estate?”
Trevor pounced to his feet, a vein popping out in his neck. “How could I? All I want is what rightfully belongs to me. Riggen isn’t even a real Price. He’s a stray we brought in off the street.” He jabbed his thumb into his chest. “I’ve got Price blood, but Riggen’s supposed to inherit all of Dad’s estate? The business I’ve sweated over and loved my entire life?”
He shook his head, but something flashed in his eyes. Was it pain? Guilt? He swaggered over to her chair. “None of that means I wanted to hurt him, though.” His voice cracked. “I love him.”
Bending until his face was level with hers, he sneered. “The better question is, how could you? If it wasn’t for your irresponsibility, Riggen would have already taken you and left the state. But you pushed and pushed like a spoiled brat until you got your way. No wonder he ran from you five years ago. You’re exhausting.”
His words pierced her soul like flaming darts. She hunched forward in pain.
He held his hands wide. “So, congratulations, you’ve arrived at your final adventure and it’s more than a destination.”
Kris chuckled as she leaned against the door frame, her back to the night. “I like what you did there.”
“Thanks.” Trevor slithered away from Liz until he and Kris stood shoulder-to-shoulder, staring at her.
“So, what?” Liz scowled at them. “You’re going to kill me? Riggen is the smartest man I know. He’ll figure out you two are working together, with or without my help.”
Trevor sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes tired and—she blinked in surprise—sad. “You’re right...he will.”
She gawked at his response. Kris turned to stare at him as if he’d just gone off the deep end.
Neither one of them was prepared when he pulled his gun from his holster. Every bedtime kiss with Lucas, every squeeze of his tiny arms flashed through her mind. Be strong and courageous, sweet boy.
Then Trevor turned and pointed the gun at Kris and pulled the trigger. The woman’s bright blue eyes widened in shock as she crumpled to the floor.
He kicked Kris’s body against the wall and watched the color drain from her face. When the woman’s eyes fluttered shut, he turned back. “And that is exactly why I needed to tie up loose ends.”
“Why did you do that?” Liz choked on a sob.
She turned her face away and stared out the door. She couldn’t look at Kris. Couldn’t accept that Trevor had just ended one life and hers would be next. A shadow moved across the sliver of light that spilled from the open doorway to illuminate the overgrown path outside.
Her breath hitched. She recognized the familiar flash of white cowlick. Terror slicked through her. If he came in here, Trevor would shoot him.
She wanted to be with Riggen. She loved him. There was no point in denying it any longer. But she wanted his safety more. Her heart screamed at Riggen, willing the silent words through the air and into his heart. Run, my love. Run.
TWENTY-ONE
When the shot thundered across the mountainside, he and Rosche ran the last twenty feet to the old lean-to. Rosche sunk to a knee across from him and pulled her weapon. Riggen tapped his fingers on the rigid body of his Glock where it rested against his rib cage. He braced himself as the ghostly echoes of enemy fire blasted in his brain.
This was Manitou, not Baghdad. His head spun and he pressed his back against the damp clapboard siding of their decaying playhouse. And this was his brother, not the enemy.
His brother who had just shot someone. He shifted, a lifetime of memorie
s squashing in the mud under him. His brother who most likely would not survive the night. Rosche knelt on the opposite side of the doorway, her finger pointing down the barrel of her duty weapon. She was ready and primed.
Riggen’s gaze ricocheted from the lit doorway to Rosche’s face to the starlit sky above them. Be with me. He clenched his jaw, fighting off the fear that threatened to paralyze him. It still wasn’t easy admitting he didn’t have control of the situation. It still wasn’t easy to trust.
“Why did you do that?” Liz’s voice wavered and broke. From the sound of it, she was on the other side of the wall from him. He hunkered forward and rolled across the path until he was next to Rosche. From this position, he could clearly see Liz tied to the old wood chair.
Trevor walked in front of the lantern, casting his shadow across the path before disappearing behind the wall again.
“Should we take him down now?” Rosche whispered in Riggen’s ear.
He shook his head. It wasn’t clear enough yet.
“I’ve been trying to get rid of her for longer than I’ve been trying to get rid of Riggen.” Trevor’s words tore a family-sized hole into Riggen’s soul.
Liz’s head swiveled between Trevor and Kris, who now lay crumpled like a discarded doll in the corner. She locked onto his brother, her eyes flashing. “But why?”
“She knew what you know.”
“Not to book adventure excursions with monsters?”
“Nice one.” His laugh filtered out into the night. “A little insulting, though. I’m no monster. I’m a realist. Kris knew about the will. She’s been blackmailing me for the last five years. So when Kim let it slip that you had a son, it was like the skies had opened up and dropped the perfect opportunity in my lap. My chance to knock out Riggen and Kris with the same stone—you.
“With a few choice reminders to her about how you ruined Sammy’s life, I had Kris off to the races. And put Elizabeth Hart in trouble? Well, that got Riggen back in the game.”
Anger simmered inside Riggen like a geyser threatening to erupt. His brother had played him like a banjo. He tensed and rocked forward onto the balls of his feet. Rosche’s hand gripped his arm. He cut a glance at her. She sliced her hand across her throat. She was right. Calm. Steady.
He turned back. Liz was wriggling in her seat, pain shooting across her face, but still she stared down his brother. “Why would Kris blackmail you over a will that never made it to the lawyer? It has no power.”
“You’re right about that.”
Riggen crept closer to the door, readying himself for whatever would come.
Liz scrunched her face and jerked her head at the corner. “I’m sure I’ll join Kris tonight, so you might as well give me a good-night story.”
Trevor’s laugh bounced off the wood floor. “Story? How’s this synopsis for you?” He paused. Riggen could see his shadow moving on the wall behind Liz, hands raising in the air as if framing invisible words. “Do-gooding preacher crusades to end local forced labor until son joins enemy for profit.”
Chills washed over Riggen even as Liz shuddered, but she nodded. “Go ahead.”
“Do you think Riggen and his mom were my dad’s first project?” Trevor’s words jeered. “No. They were just the only successful one. Dad was always trying to save people.”
“Okay...” Liz cocked an eyebrow.
“So who do you think Malcovitch came after when he wanted to stop Dad from putting a dent in his trafficking business?” Trevor’s voice screeched through the door and into the night like an angry owl. “Me.”
“Tell me about it,” Liz prompted soothingly.
“Bad company corrupts good character. It was either join Malcovitch or...well, you know what? Malcovitch didn’t give me a second option. So I let him run workers right under Dad’s nose, storing them here on our own property before carting them off to their next position.”
“You could have gone to the authorities.” Liz shifted in her chair, the muscles in her arms moving and flexing.
“It was either the laborers suffer or I suffer. Malcovitch would have paid me back if I went to the law. So I let him run business through here instead, for a cut of the profits, of course.”
Revulsion flickered across Liz’s face. Riggen’s stomach turned. How had he not known the struggles hidden within his own family?
“Anyway, when Dad found out, he said I had to turn myself in or he would. He wrote me out of the will. Gave it all to Riggen. The stray!” Trevor stepped into view. He pulled a packet of papers from his shirt and threw them at Liz. “Look how much Dad distrusted me.” His voice dropped to a menacing level. “I thought I had destroyed every copy.”
“He’s escalating.” Rosche’s lips were close to Riggen’s ear. She was right. They needed to intervene.
But Liz spoke, stopping him. “How does Kris figure into all of this?”
Trevor stomped muddy boots across the papers before kicking them at Kris. The woman’s foot twitched. Was she still alive?
Trevor laughed. “Kris was one of them. One of the people Dad tried to save. But even back then, she was Sammy’s girl. How she laughed behind Dad’s back while she robbed him blind. She was at the ranch that night to study—” he air-quoted “—the Bible. More like she was there to pinch Dad’s wallet when he wasn’t looking.”
“That night?” Liz asked.
“The night Dad wrote me out of the will.” Trevor bent and picked up the muddy, torn papers. “He and I fought. He was so upset. So disappointed. That’s when it happened.”
“What?”
“The heart attack. I just stood there. Watched him struggle for each breath. I was so angry. Too angry to call 9-1-1. When it was over, I destroyed the new will and the letter he had written his lawyer, but apparently he made a copy. Kris and I left, and I came back later to discover him.”
He shrugged. “See? Loose ends. At the end of the day, I’ll walk down this mountain a hero. Oh, I wasn’t in time to keep Kris from killing you, but I was able to get off the shot that killed her and brought justice. Anyway, that’s the story Riggen will believe. All that’s left for me is to find a new way to get Riggen’s hands off my property. You’re useless to me now.”
Searing rage blinded Riggen, propelling him to his feet. He burst into the shack and pummeled his fist through the back of his brother’s shoulder.
“Nothing more important than family?” he shouted as Trevor spun around. “You’re no brother to me.”
Trevor clenched and unclenched his hands, but Riggen was ready. Every ounce of anguish rose to the surface as he barreled headfirst into Trevor’s chest and crashed him into the wall.
Trevor grabbed him around the torso like he had when they wrestled as kids. They fell together onto the hard floor. Riggen’s breath whooshed from his body as his shoulder cracked against the uneven wood boards. They rolled together toward the door.
When they collided into the door frame, he brought his knee up into his brother’s gut and slipped from Trevor’s hold. Pulling himself to one knee and then both feet, he glared down at the man he had always looked up to.
From the corner of his eye, he saw all the blood blanch from Liz’s face. She sucked in a breath and yanked one hand from behind her, pointing across the shack.
Riggen jerked his head to see what caused her terror. Kris, raised on one elbow, was holding a shaking gun at Liz. Everything stopped. He saw the room as if it were one enormous map. He wasn’t too far off course to save the woman he loved.
Before the next breath could be drawn, he threw himself at Liz, taking her and the chair to the ground. Gunshots thundered off the walls of the shack, followed by Trevor’s scream.
Another pop-pop-pop blasted the air, then only silence. Riggen rolled over. Rosche stood in the doorway, her gun trained on Kris’s now-lifeless body.
But Trevor was hunched over, holdi
ng his abdomen. He staggered to the middle of the room and fell to his knees, his eyes boring into Riggen. Riggen ignored him, turned away and untied Liz’s binds. He pulled her into his arms, pressing her against his chest. “Thank You, Jesus.” His ragged prayer was muffled against her hair.
Liz’s hands slid up his chest and rested on his shoulders. His vision tunneled. All he could see was her. But she was looking past him. At Trevor. She tilted forward until her cheek was pressed against his and whispered, “Go to him, my love.”
The shack spun around him and his heart beat so loud, he couldn’t trust his ears. “What did you say?” He choked out the question.
She pushed him away but this time it wasn’t in anger. “Go to him,” she whispered, her eyes filled with the love he had never expected to see again.
He nodded and steadied her before turning. The blood seeping from between Trevor’s fingers set his feet into motion. He rushed to his brother’s side. The wound in Trevor’s stomach gurgled past his futile attempt to staunch it.
He grabbed Trevor’s arm and placed his other hand on his brother’s back before guiding him down to the bloodstained floor. Trevor coughed. The sound sputtered in a way Riggen had heard too many times on the battlefield.
He knelt close to Trevor’s face, grasping his brother’s hand while his heart shattered in revelation. “You took that bullet for me.”
Tears slid down Trevor’s cheek to disappear into his blond hair. His eyes fluttered shut. “There’s nothing more important than family.”
Riggen choked back his own tears and placed two fingers to Trevor’s neck. Nothing. His brother was gone.
Riggen stood and backed away. Wiping the wetness from his cheeks, he turned to walk into Liz’s waiting embrace.
* * *
Liz squinted against the glare of strobing police lights and huddled deep into the warm emergency blanket Devon had draped over her shoulders. The paramedic wrapped a bandage around her throbbing arm and then dug into his medic bag, pulling out ibuprofen and a bottle of water.
Treacherous Mountain Investigation Page 18