EIGHT
Bryce followed Samson’s tracks, huffing and puffing. If he was made to do this with any regularity, he’d have to train on snowshoes to get in the right kind of shape. The scent of evergreens filled his nose. His snowshoes crunched on the snow, the only sound in the quiet, white-blanketed wilderness.
He hadn’t caught sight of Samson or Raul yet. But he watched and listened as he hiked and tried to catch up.
In the distance a vicious bark resounded. Deep and throaty—it must be Samson. Bryce hadn’t heard that degree of hostility from the dog before, even when they’d taken gunfire. Adrenaline pumped through him.
Samson must have found his target.
A man shouted, the sound coming from the same direction as Samson’s bark. Bryce was torn—if it was Raul, everything in him screamed he should tell Samson to attack. But he couldn’t know for sure. Still, if it was the man who’d shot Jim then he needed to be detained.
What was that word in German? Samson might not listen to Bryce’s command, but it was worth a try.
“Attack! Fassen!”
Samson wouldn’t simply attack unless he sensed the man was a threat.
Gunfire resounded...
Bryce’s gut tensed.
Oh, Samson... Oh, no...
He couldn’t catch his breath but forced himself to keep moving forward. “Samson! Come on, boy. Come here.” What word had she used to call Samson back to her again?
Suddenly Sierra was behind him, and almost on him. That startled him. She’d caught up? Apparently, she was more accustomed to hiking in this wilderness.
“Samson. Heir!” She shouted for Samson. “I don’t like this,” she said to Bryce. “I can’t see a thing.”
Bryce couldn’t see through the dense trees, nor could he hear Samson barking. Dread rose in his chest. They followed the tracks.
Sierra left Bryce behind and jogged on her snowshoes. “Sierra, wait. You could be putting yourself in danger. Wait for me.”
But she didn’t listen. He caught up to her through a copse of trees that opened up to a clearing. Samson was there, licking at his fur. Crimson spread on the white snow.
Sierra grabbed his head. “Good boy. It’s going to be okay.”
Bryce caught up to them. “What is it?”
“A gunshot wound.” She glared at Bryce. Then tried to look at the wound but Samson nipped at her. “Shh, it’s okay, boy. I need to help. Let me look, okay?” She shook her head. “I can’t see. But I need to stop the bleeding.”
Like McKayla had used her scarf on Jim, Sierra tugged her scarf off and folded it. She pressed it gently against Samson’s fur, he growled and placed his massive maw over her hand, but didn’t bite.
Sierra obviously trusted him not to lash out, but Bryce wouldn’t trust any dog that much. Sierra got on her radio to let the search team know that Samson needed medical help too.
Bryce let his gaze roam the woods. “Whoever shot Samson is still out there, Sierra.” Raul is still out there. “I thought McKayla said she got his gun, but apparently he had more than one.”
“One that he couldn’t get to without her shooting him, so he fled,” she said. “But he could have killed Samson with one shot.”
He felt her eyes boring into him so he finally looked back at her. “You’re wondering why he didn’t.”
She nodded.
“He could have stumbled and missed. Maybe he wasn’t really aiming—he could have shot at Samson and kept running, not realizing he hadn’t killed Samson. We can’t know. If Samson hadn’t been shot, he could have brought Raul down.”
Her frowned deepened. “Whatever. Samson could be down-and-out now for SAR. Other tracking dogs were brought in and haven’t found Raul yet. But our team has spotted him now so maybe they’ll scour this region and find him soon.”
The sheriff had told Bryce the state had set up a command center at a ranger station outside of town so they wouldn’t disrupt the ice festival. So far he and Sierra hadn’t seen or heard the dogs looking for Raul, except for a couple in town. The bulk of the dogs were in the woods and up in the mountains far from where Sierra and Bryce were now. The terrain was treacherous and the region vast—even with dogs, it seemed impossible to search it all.
Samson whined and licked at his wound.
“Come on buddy, you’re okay,” she said.
“Maybe it’s just a graze.”
He wished he hadn’t said the words. She pulled first aid from her backpack. “I’ll see if he’ll let me take a look.”
Samson had finally calmed though he still whined. He lay across the snow, but remained alert. Sierra removed her bloodied scarf. “I think the bleeding is slowing.” She peered at the wound without touching it. “I’m no expert, but it doesn’t look like an actual hole in his body it... It’s more like a slice over his skin. Do you think Raul cut him with a knife and this wasn’t a gunshot wound?”
“I heard the gunfire.”
Sierra gently placed gauze over the wound then taped it. It wouldn’t stick well or hold tight on Samson’s fur. “The vet will have to shave his fur. But—” she hung her head “—this could have been so much worse.”
Right. The dog could have died. Guilt flooded Bryce—he understood Sierra’s reservations much better now, though he’d known the danger all along.
“And it could still be that much worse. I think we need to get out of here. We’re too exposed here in these woods.”
“Okay, Samson. We need to try to walk back to the others.”
“Come on, boy.” She leashed Samson. He growled and barked, but got to his feet.
“Get down!” Bryce covered Sierra.
She kept a hold of the leash. “Get off me, Bryce.”
“He’s still here. Samson was warning us.”
Gunfire rang out again. A bullet slammed into a nearby tree, shattering bark. Bryce covered her again.
“We need backup. Someone to help us here, and soon. Definitely not volunteers. Radio your sheriff to let him know.”
Shouts rang out from the direction they’d come, along with more gunfire.
Sierra got on her radio to relay about the shooter. “Searchers are out here and this could be dangerous for them. Most of them are volunteers!”
Sierra shrugged away from Bryce’s protection and brandished her own weapon. “The other deputies won’t get here in time. This is up to us. You and me. Let’s get him.”
She started to rise and he pulled her down, keeping his grip on her this time and refusing to release her despite her protests.
Sierra stared at him, fury pouring from her gaze. “You agreed to help me find him.”
“Not like this,” Bryce said. “He has the advantage. He can see us but we can’t see him. Besides, you haven’t forgotten Samson, have you? He needs medical attention.”
Samson panted, drool hanging from both sides of his mouth. At the mention off his name, he licked Bryce.
“I want to go after him too,” he said. “But not like this.” Not with Samson compromised. “There’ll be another chance and we’ll have the advantage.” He was making promises he couldn’t keep.
A deputy rushed forward. “Sheriff said you should be safe now.”
“Wait.” Sierra shared a look at Bryce. “What? How can I be safe? Did he get Raul?”
“We saw him crossing a river on our approach up the trail. So went after him. Then we lost him. The terrain was too rocky. We’ll bring the dogs to this area today to search.” The deputy frowned. “I see Samson is hurt.”
“Yes. He’s going to be okay though. Aren’t you, boy?”
“We need law enforcement who climb too,” the deputy continued. “The way he disappeared, he looks to be great at rock climbing.”
Bryce frowned. “This time of year it’s more like ice—”
“Climbing,”
Sierra said. “Ice climbing.”
Samson whined as if in pain. Sierra reassured the dog, who had warned her and tried to protect her. The dog’s injury was on Bryce, and Sierra would probably not let him forget it.
* * *
Back in the Jeep with Samson, Bryce drove this time so Sierra could sit in the back holding the dog. He steered back to town, following the directions she gave him for the office of the local vet. “Raul couldn’t possibly be here for the ice climbing festival,” he said. “That would just... That wouldn’t make any sense.”
“No, it wouldn’t. I think he somehow got away. He’s eluded the search dogs because he somehow knows his way around this terrain and he can go places they can’t go. But that’s just an assumption on my part,” she said.
“But Samson knows his way around too, right?” Bryce glanced in the rearview mirror to get a glimpse of Sierra and her dog.
“I don’t want to put him out there again before he’s ready.”
“Let’s hope his wound is truly only superficial and will heal quickly.”
“I hope that too, but he could have died today, Bryce.”
Oh, Sierra.
The vet, after a long visit, patched Samson up and gave him an otherwise clean bill of health, commenting that after a day or two Samson would be as good as new. But to be certain—mostly to appease Sierra’s concern—he would keep the dog with him overnight.
Bryce parked the Jeep around the side of the building and escorted her back to the toy store that had closed an hour ago. He’d had to drive around a few times to get that parking spot as the town had started to fill up with those coming to view the big competitions this weekend.
Sierra walked through the toy store to the back and then unlocked and opened up the apartment. “Dad?” she said as she stepped inside.
Then she looked around, and screamed.
* * *
The apartment had been sacked.
She pressed her hand over her mouth. “Dad!”
Sierra sprinted up the stairs and was practically yanked down as Bryce tugged her behind him. “Call the sheriff for backup.”
“You’re not—” She didn’t bother finishing.
Bryce had already drawn his gun. “I’m getting you out of here.”
“Not without my father you aren’t.”
“You don’t know that he’s here.”
She brandished her own gun. Determination drove her to push past Bryce. “But I’ll know soon enough.”
“Then let’s get to it, but I’m going in first.” He started up the stairs.
Sierra called dispatch as they climbed the steps. She understood that Bryce trusted her as a deputy, but right now he was trying to protect her from Raul, and that changed the dynamics.
“John, are you here?” Bryce shouted the question.
At this point, they weren’t trying to surprise whoever had broken into the home. But Bryce still wanted to use himself as a shield for Sierra.
“Dad!” she shouted.
She had never fully been able to be rid of Raul and now it was as though he had stepped right out of her nightmares. Fear for her father nearly paralyzed her but she and Bryce managed to clear the two rooms upstairs.
Catching her breath to slow her pounding heart, she leaned against the hallway wall. “If he’s not here, then where is he?” She looked at her cell. “He didn’t leave any texts to tell me where he is, but I’m texting him now. Then I’ll call too for good measure.”
Somewhere downstairs, shouts resounded.
“Must be backup,” Bryce said. “Up here!”
Bryce put his gun away and leaned in close to look her in the eyes. “Sierra, you okay?”
“No. Not until I find Dad. You don’t think—” Could Raul have taken him? Oh, no. No, no, no. Her legs grew weak and she leaned against the wall with her cell to her ear, praying Dad would answer her call.
Sheriff Locke climbed the steps. “Got your emergency call. I just returned from taking the statement of the two snowshoers. Looks like someone has done a number—”
“Sheriff,” she interrupted. “My dad. He’s not here.”
Deputy Colfax stepped up next to the sheriff. “John’s at the café across the street. I just left there when I got the call to come here. So far, it doesn’t look like he knows there’s any trouble.”
“Oh.” She pressed her hand against her chest and relief whooshed through her. “I was so worried. I thought—I thought something happened to him.”
Or that Raul had taken him.
And why hadn’t he answered her text or call?
“Jane!” She called her friend and employee on her cell. “We need to make sure she wasn’t hurt,” she said to Bryce.
Jane answered right away. “Sierra! Hey. What’s up? Don’t tell me I forgot to turn the lights off again.”
Sierra eyed the men watching her. “No, nothing like that. I’m just glad to hear that you’re okay. Where are you?”
“I’m at home getting ready for a dinner date tonight.”
“Oh good. Is it with that Chuck guy?”
“I’m so over him. No. His name is Chris.”
“Okay, well please be careful. Someone broke into the apartment and ransacked it. As far as I can tell they didn’t touch the store.”
Jane gasped. “Oh, no. You’re kidding! This must have something to do with the man after you.” Sierra had told Jane some of what was going on, and to let her know if she saw anyone suspicious in the store.
“One would assume that’s exactly who’s responsible.”
“What do you think he was looking for?”
“I have no idea.” Sierra eased down the stairs and looked around the apartment. The coffee table in the living room had been overturned. Chairs too. Books pulled from the shelves. And the kitchen... Her stomach soured. She drew in a breath. “I just wanted to make sure that you’re all right. Please be careful.”
“Why are you telling me this? You don’t think I’m a target do you?”
“No. I just think it’s common sense.”
Jane chuckled though she didn’t sound convinced. “All right then. Unless there’s anything else, I need to get going.”
“I do too. Text me when you get home safe and sound after your date, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Sierra ended the call. The sheriff, Deputy Colfax and Bryce all stared at her as if waiting to hear about Jane.
“I guess you heard she’s safe,” she said. “Which means that whoever broke in must have done so after Jane left, unless they came through the back. Working up front, she might not have noticed or heard anything coming from the apartment.” Sierra hugged herself. “I need to talk to Dad.”
“Miguel is with him now, escorting him over,” Deputy Colfax said. “They should be here any second.”
“We don’t want to contaminate the scene,” Sheriff Locke said. “But he needs to see this. Maybe he will see something missing, who knows.”
“Does he know what happened yet?” she asked.
“Only that someone broke in and you’re all right,” the sheriff said. “Can you tell us if you’ve noticed anything missing? Though my gut tells me this wasn’t a burglary.”
“Exactly. We know who did this.”
Deputy Colfax scratched his head. “I’m not so sure.”
“What do you mean?” Bryce asked.
“Why would Raul ransack your home? He’s after you, remember?”
“I think he’s trying to shake Sierra up,” Bryce said. “Intimidate her with fear tactics.”
“If that was him out there today who attacked those two hikers, he’s mixing up his tactics.”
“That could have been a simple matter of him getting you out there with Samson to search for missing people. But his plans to hurt you didn’t work out.” Sheriff
Locke rubbed his chin. “I hate to pull you from SAR too.”
“Sheriff, please don’t.”
“He’s right, Sierra.” Bryce crossed his arms. “If Raul thinks you’ll be out there with Samson searching for someone lost in the wilderness, he could try that tactic again. That puts others at risk.”
She blew out a defeated breath. She hadn’t thought about it like that. Raul was shutting her world down.
“Okay. Okay. I get it. But it doesn’t look like staying home would keep me safe either. As far as him breaking into my apartment, he could do it again,” she said. “Next time Dad might not be so fortunate as to be somewhere else.”
“Which brings me to another point,” Bryce said. “We need to figure out how someone got in and make sure that can never happen again.”
Bryce kept fisting his hands. She understood his frustration and feelings of helplessness.
“I should get busy and see if there’s something missing.” She knew there wouldn’t be, but this was all part of the investigative process.
Sierra glanced through Dad’s room and as she suspected, found nothing missing—but what a mess. They all suspected Raul had done this when she and Bryce had gone to the vet. He’d come off that mountain and headed straight for her home to do this. To torture her. He was a sick, sick man.
She hated being in his sights. Exhaustion and wariness already ate at the edges of her composure as she moved to her own room.
She and Bryce had already cleared the room so she’d seen the mess, but she feared what she might find there upon closer examination.
A shiver crept up her spine. She’d been sleeping in this bed, this room last night and she’d had nightmares about Raul. It felt like he’d stepped from those nightmares right into her room.
He was here in my room.
She rubbed at the goose bumps, but they remained.
God, how do I get him out of my life? When will this end? I don’t understand why it’s happening.
She wiped tears from her cheeks, then moved to head out of the room.
A small slip of paper next to the bed caught her attention. She picked it up, then read the words.
“I’m going to finish what I started that night four years ago.”
Fugitive Trail Page 8