Agent’s Mountain Rescue

by Jennifer D. Bokal

  So far, they’d captured over 300 unique persons, but no sign of Darcy Owens.

  Marcus Jones looked up from the screen as the van’s rear door opened. Wyatt Thornton held a bag of fast food and two steaming cups of coffee. The van immediately filled with the rich aroma of coffee and the smell of cooked meat.

  “Anything?” Wyatt asked, gesturing to the monitors with the bag.

  Marcus pinched the bridge of his nose. “Nothing,” he said.

  “What if there isn’t a connection?” Wyatt pressed. “What if we’ve wasted a day following a trail that leads nowhere?”

  Before Marcus could answer, his phone rang. “It’s Martinez.” Marcus answered, putting the call on Speaker so Wyatt could hear.

  “Martinez,” he said. “How’s Julia?”

  “She’s improving but she’s going to need PT if she’s going to have any use of that hand. My God, she’s lost two fingers.”

  “Thank goodness she’s going to live,” whispered Wyatt.

  “Is she awake?” Marcus asked. “Has she said anything about what happened to her in the bunker or anything about what the photographs we found on her phone mean?”

  “She dozed off and I stepped out of the room,” said Martinez. “I’ll call back when she wakes up again.”

  “Keep us posted as you get information from Julia and the doctors,” said Marcus. “And Martinez—tell her we’re there for her, whatever she needs.”

  “Will do,” said Martinez.

  Marcus ended the call. As the smell of greasy fries wafted through the van, his stomach began to rumble. Pulling the bag toward him, he peered inside. A woman’s face flashed across the screen and he froze.

  A message appeared on the monitor: Owens, Darcy, 79.5% match.

  His heartbeat began to race. “See that?”

  “I see it. What should we do? Call the FBI?” Wyatt asked. “Even with a seventy-nine percent match?”

  Marcus rubbed his chin. “Bring up the photo we caught.”

  Wyatt tapped on the keyboard. “This was taken at the bar. Time—7:52 p.m. That’s ten minutes ago. We only have the woman’s profile and it looks like it was caught in the mirror. Hell, I can’t even tell what color her sweater is. Is that black or navy?”

  Marcus picked up his phone. “I’m texting Liam. He can check this out quicker than we can get back to the resort.” He typed out the message and hit Send.

  Marcus wouldn’t rest until he had an answer.

  * * *

  Liam’s phone pinged with an incoming text. Looking at the screen, his blood went cold, and he turned his attention to the bar at the far side of the room. The crowd had grown, and Liam didn’t see his quarry. Yet, it didn’t mean that Darcy Owens wasn’t in this very room.

  “What is it?” Holly asked.

  He turned to look at her. “I need to check someone out at the bar,” he said quietly. “I’ll be right back.”

  “What’s going on?” Holly asked.

  Liam eyed the room, certain that each and every person was a threat. “Please, don’t ask questions. I’ll tell you everything as soon as I can.”

  Holly worked her jaw back and forth. In the end, she didn’t argue.

  Liam got up from the table and made his way to the crowded bar. He read the description from the text again. Female. Brunette. Dark sweater. He spotted the woman immediately. Positioning himself next to the target, Liam posed. As if taking a selfie, he captured the woman’s image more than a dozen times.

  He texted them all to his colleagues.

  The reply came in less than a minute.

  It’s not her.

  Liam silently cursed before replying.

  What next?

  It took Marcus several seconds to return with an answer.

  According to the resort’s calendar, there’s an outdoor concert in 20 minutes. Report there and get pictures of the crowd.

  Liam cursed to himself before heading back to his table, wondering how the hell he was going to explain this one to Holly.

  * * *

  With Liam at her side, Holly walked down a path that wound past the paddock and toward an amphitheater set in the woods. The earlier rain shower had ended. The forecast promised more showers overnight, but for now, torches lined the path, illuminating the walkway. Beads of water clung to branches and leaves. The foliage sparkled with the fire’s glow. Her breath caught in a frozen cloud and Holly was thankful that she’d thought to bring a warm coat. Aside from the concert, the resort had also set up a table with fixings for s’mores—graham crackers, chocolate bars, marshmallows, skewers. It seemed like the perfect place to be around plenty of guests and staff—any of whom might be the link to Darcy Owens.

  If not the killer herself.

  Shoving her hands deeper into her pockets, Holly glanced over her shoulder, searching the crowd for Liam. He stood near the firepit, watching her. Their gazes met. He walked toward her with a long and powerful stride. A small smile pulled up at the corner of his lips.

  “What?” she asked, her heart hammering.

  “You,” he said.

  “What about me?”

  “You’re beautiful.”

  “Oh.” Holly didn’t know how to react or what to say. All she knew was that if she didn’t escape, she was dangerously close to giving in to Liam Alexander and the fantasy of happily-ever-after.

  Stepping away from the crowded performance, Holly stood next to the firepit. Liam followed. Sparks from the blaze floated into the night sky. The murmur of voices blended with the music from a country-western band’s song. Yet to Holly, it seemed as if she and Liam were the only two people on earth.

  He stepped closer.

  She arched an eyebrow, a definite challenge. Yet, what was she daring him to do?

  Holly could hear the whisper of Liam’s breath and smell the fresh tang of his clean skin. She felt an urge to step toward him. Fighting the impulse, she remained where she stood.

  He moved to her, until only a few inches separated them. Lifting his hand, he placed his fingertips on her cheek. His touch was warm and strong. Tracing her jaw and chin, he stared into her eyes. “Pretty,” he said. “So damn pretty.”

  He placed his mouth on hers and a spark came to life in Holly’s middle. She wanted to ignore the fire that smoldered from within. Yet, with Liam, Holly longed to be burned; consumed by the flames.

  He pressed his tongue into the seam of her lips. She opened herself to Liam as he tasted and explored. Holly was drunk with the sensation.

  Then she remembered who she was. Holly never did anything without planning—or a reason. She firmly pushed him away.

  “I can’t,” she said, scrubbing her mouth with the back of her hand. “I shouldn’t.”

  Liam stepped back, his hands hanging at his sides. “I understand,” he said.

  “I’m glad you do,” she said, with the shake of her head. “Because I don’t.”

  “Holly, I...”

  Thunder rumbled, echoing off the mountains. It was only a moment before the skies opened and sheets of rain began to fall. The moment was gone. Yet as the deluge washed over her, Liam stared at Holly and their gazes held. She had the uncanny thought that he saw more than just what was to be seen. It was almost as if his gaze bore straight through her, where he had a glimpse of everything—even her soul. The notion left Holly feeling exposed and at the same time, she wanted Liam to discover her deepest secrets and claim her for his own.

  * * *

  Liam lay on the sofa in the living room and stared at the beamed ceiling. He examined the whorls in the wood. The grain of the rough planks.

  Memories of his cousin had become a constant barrage since coming to the resort. Yet Liam shouldn’t be surprised—what, with being back at the place where so many of those memories had been made.

  Still, he couldn’t
help but wonder what Charlie would think about Holly. He’d probably like her, Liam decided. Then again, was there anything to not like about Holly Jacobs?

  His focus was so intent that he started when his phone pinged with an incoming text.

  He looked at the screen. It was a video sent from Marcus Jones, along with a message.

  Traffic video of possible Darcy Owens sighting. Reno, Nevada. 1:57 a.m.

  Liam sat up and pressed the triangle that was superimposed on the image of a woman sitting in the passenger seat of what appeared to be a black SUV.

  The video began to play. The woman was blonde. Caucasian. About the right age, although in the grainy image, it was hard to tell.

  The SUV drove past the traffic camera, the woman’s image gone as quickly as it came.

  Another text from Marcus.

  Is it her?

  Liam watched the video once more. To him, it didn’t feel right. Then again, the video didn’t give him a lot to go on. Was it Darcy?

  His reply: Could be.

  From Marcus: The facial recognition software has it at an 85% match. Contacting Reno PD to stop SUV.

  Liam wasn’t sure what else to add to the conversation. Yet his phone beeped with a preset alarm. The time had come for the most important part of the mission—getting into the room that housed all of the resort’s security equipment, hacking into the system and allowing RMJ to spy. Failure wasn’t an option and adrenaline coursed through his veins.

  “Ready?” came a sleepy voice from the doorway of the master bedroom. Holly leaned on the jamb, dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. Her hair was simply pulled back into a ponytail, and he couldn’t stop thinking about how good she looked.

  “No,” he said honestly. “Hacking and tracking may rhyme, but that’s about all they have in common.”

  She smiled. “See, you’re a great parent.”

  Liam drew his brows together. “How’d you figure that?”

  Holly said, “You’re already making up your own lame dad jokes.”

  He smiled, as well. “Who says they’re lame?” And then, his tone growing serious, “You don’t have to come with me.”

  “Of course I do. I’m being paid to help you. What happens if one of the security guards returns while you’re still working? I’ll be outside, ready to ask them to show me the nearest soda machine.”

  “Swanky hotels like this don’t have soda machines. Only the cantina in the lobby.”

  “Then I’ll have them show me to the lobby.”

  He shook his head and laughed. Liam was already dressed—jeans, T-shirt, quarter zip fleece. “Let’s go.”

  The room occupied by the resort’s security officers was located in the basement, accessed only by a special elevator. As they descended, Liam’s foot tapped restlessly. But it was more than that. It was the video Marcus had sent.

  He knew that his boss was eager to find Darcy Owens. Was that eagerness making him see what he wanted? Or was he right?

  “They think Darcy Owens was spotted on a traffic camera in Reno,” said Liam.

  “Reno?” asked Holly. “Why Reno?”

  Maybe that was what bothered Liam the most. “In my experience, hunters—true predators—have their own hunting grounds. It’s always an area they know well. They don’t move unless there’s no more prey.”

  “Las Vegas seems like a pretty target-rich environment,” said Holly.

  She was right. “Or maybe Darcy views the police as larger prey—and she’s moved areas, but only slightly.”

  “Maybe,” said Holly. Her word was punctuated by the ding of the elevator and the door sliding open.

  Liam held up a hand to Holly and stepped into the corridor. The bowels of the hotel were completely at odds with the luxurious guest accommodations. Concrete floors. Cinder block walls. Overhead lights that gave off a jaundiced glow.

  The hallway was empty. Motioning for Holly to follow, Liam looked at the map he’d been given.

  They found the room without incident. Katarina had done her magic and the key card worked on the restricted door. As promised, the room was empty and both guards were on their rounds of the property.

  He held the door open and turned back to Holly. “That’s two things off my to-do list, with only about a thousand items left.”

  “You can do this,” she said, turning her wrist so he could see her watch. “But you have to hurry if you’re going to get it done.”

  Liam checked his own watch. It was 2:37 a.m. Two minutes were gone, only thirteen remained.

  “Wish me luck,” he said.

  “Good luck,” said Holly, her voice a whisper.

  She was so close that he could feel her breath on his cheek. He moved toward her, focusing on her lips, her mouth and his desire for a single kiss.

  Holly stepped forward, erasing the distance between them. She stood on tiptoe and placed her lips on his.

  Liam wanted nothing more than to kiss her back. He wanted to pull her to him and not let go. In fact, he wanted to do almost anything other than step into the room filled with computer monitors, keyboards and the server, which looked like nothing other than a big black metal box. “Thanks,” he said, stepping inside.

  The door closed and the lock clicked.

  Liam scanned the monitors. There were twenty—four rows of five screens. The upper-most monitor on the left was a live feed of the hallway where Holly stood. She’d noticed the camera, set above the door. Pointing to her watch, she mouthed, “Hurry up.”

  With a chuckle and a sigh, Liam removed his phone and opened the document with Katarina’s instructions. It hadn’t been a joke when he said he had a thousand more items to complete—just a slight exaggeration.

  He followed her directions, keying in a string of letters, numbers and symbols onto the main keyboard. The code appeared on a computer screen. Liam hit Enter.

  A message appeared. Access denied.

  He checked the code again, but, once more, Access denied. Damn. He’d transposed two numbers. After clearing the field, he reentered the code and moved his finger to the enter key. He paused, comparing Katarina’s code with what he’d entered. Another mistake would force Liam to start over again. He didn’t have time for a second mistake.

  Positive that his work was perfect, he hit Enter.

  Access granted.

  Liam removed the thumb drive from his pocket and found the port at the back of the server. With the drive placed and secure, he returned to the keyboard. There were two more lines of code. Liam carefully entered them both.

  Access granted.

  Time to download: 4 minutes.

  The time on his cell phone read 2:45 a.m.

  Would he have enough time?

  Three minutes.

  Liam searched the monitors and found one of the security guards in the lobby. Elbow on the front desk, he was speaking to the night clerk.

  Liam opened the door. “I need you, Holly.”

  She looked up from where she leaned against the wall. “Anything.”

  “Go to the lobby and make an excuse to talk to the security guard. Anything to keep him busy. I just need another minute or two.”

  “What about the second guard?”

  Liam looked back to the monitors. He searched each screen but couldn’t see the other guy. What was worse, the download countdown had slowed, stopping at three minutes. “I’m not sure, but go now. We need all the time we can get.”

  He watched Holly, screen by screen, moving through the hallway. She entered the lobby just as the security guard moved to the edge of the frame. She spoke. He stopped.

  Time to download: 1 minute.

  Holly continued to speak to the security guard. Liam had no idea what she was saying, but the man seemed concerned. “Come on,” Liam urged the computer. “Don’t stop on me now.”
/>   There, on the second row, second screen from the left, was the second security guard. He moved through the corridors. Liam knew exactly where he was. In about fifteen seconds, he was going to turn a corner and the doorway to the security office would come into view. Liam would be trapped. He’d be discovered. The mission would be compromised.

  A message appeared on the computer monitor: Download complete.

  The computer screen went blank at the same time Liam opened the door and sprinted around the corner. His heart raced and his back was dampened with sweat. It was only as he slowed to a walk that he realized what he’d done.

  Pulling the phone from his pocket, Liam typed out a message to Marcus.

  I left the thumb drive in the back of the server.

  * * *

  Kevin Carpenter had died. In that moment, as his life drained from him, Darcy felt alive. As she drove from the resort, she was still shaking with excitement.

  With Kevin’s body tucked safely in the trunk of his own rental car, which she had stolen, Darcy planned to be gone before his absence was noticed. How long would it take to drive to Montana? There, Darcy would begin anew.

  A torrent of rain fell, leaving the pavement slick and the powerful automobile hard to handle. The car crested a rise. The road was filled with strobing lights of blue and red. It was the police. Two black-and-white cruisers blocked her escape. Vomit rose in the back of Darcy’s throat.

  “They know what I’ve done,” she said aloud.

  She eased her foot off the gas. Kevin’s body rolled, hitting the rear liftgate with a thump. Darcy glanced out the back windshield, maneuvering the gearshift into Reverse. She had to get away—even if she didn’t have any place to run.

  A police officer approached the car, wrapping on the window with the butt-end of a flashlight. After fumbling with the controls on the armrest, Darcy lowered the window.

  Cold rain buffeted her face. “Yes?”