Justice at Dawn

by Valerie Massey Goree

  KC stood beside him with the rifle ready. Steady-handed. Good. He didn’t want any accidental shots being fired.

  The noise drew closer. Closer.

  A deer crashed through the undergrowth not a yard from their position. The animal stopped, sniffed the air, and then turned and darted in the other direction.

  “Whew. I was ready for battle.” KC lowered her weapon.

  Cooper wiped his forehead. In all the confrontations he’d faced before, he’d never felt more vulnerable. Bum knee. Unable to run or adequately protect his trainee. Unsure of the quality of his voice, he nodded and said nothing.

  They continued their journey.

  Cooper consciously monitored his breathing to slow his heart rate. Enough scares for one night, or he’d have a heart attack. He lightly thumped his chest. Keep us safe, please Father. A smile no one could see creased his cheeks. He ran a hand over his whiskered face. Sure enough, KC’s overt expressions of her faith were affecting him. Praying, no matter how brief, seemed to be coming easier for him. He straightened his shoulders, and his smile remained for a second. Then reality set in. Slowing, he turned to her. “I think it’s time for you to head toward the highway. Do you need the compass?”

  “No. I’ve got a pretty good sense of direction.”

  “Be careful.”

  She clapped him on the shoulder and disappeared into the night.

  He hobbled onward. The brush seemed to be thinning, which made the journey a little easier. He tried to keep his mind on his progress and not on KC. But he failed. How far had she travelled? Was she OK?

  Boom. A rifle shot to the north echoed through the woods. KC or the other shooter?

  He searched for a tree stout enough to offer cover and leaned against it. Would KC return to him or continue to the highway?

  Another shot. Then a third.

  Breath on hold, he searched the darkness. Why hadn’t he brought the communicators? Because he never thought this venture would turn into a kidnapping.

  Stay or move on? Even if KC was injured, he had no way of locating her quickly. One of them had to make contact with the authorities. And soon.

  Please, dear God, keep KC safe. With those words on his lips, he continued toward the other cabin. Five, ten minutes later, a twig snap and a rustle of leaves behind him to the right sent a second wave of iciness through his body. Another deer? Barbara or… He halted, shotgun ready, every sense on full alert.

  Footsteps crunched through the undergrowth.

  Could it be KC? If she returned to him, that was the direction she’d come from. The other shooter wouldn’t know where he was. He peeked around a tree trunk and scrutinized the area. More rustling, then a glint off a rifle barrel.

  Held by KC.

  Taut shoulders relaxed, he whispered, “I’m here.”

  She threw an arm around his neck. “It’s so good to see you. I’m not going back out there. Whoever has the rifle is a maniac. I’m going with you to the cabin.”

  “You all right?”

  “Yes.” She removed her arm. “Sort of.”

  “What?”

  “I fell and gashed my shin. But it’s minor. Let’s go.”

  Trust her to make light of an injury.

  “Let me see.”

  “No. We’re wasting time.” She ducked under a low branch, slogged through the thigh-high grass, and then slowed enough for him to take the lead.

  By concentrating on the job at hand, he was able to ignore the pain, up to a point. Although the overnight temperature had probably dropped to the mid-fifties, sweat coated his brow. How much farther?

  They made good progress for the next fifteen minutes.

  A tentative pat on his arm. “Cooper, can we stop, please.”

  “Sure.” Resting his knee was welcome, any time.

  “I can hear water, like a stream.”

  He cocked his head. Yeah, a faint ripple. “I remember Barbara saying there was a ravine between her cabin and the neighbor’s.”

  “That doesn’t sound like the river is in a ravine. It sounds like it’s…”

  Her words tapered off, and she clung to his arm.

  “What’s wrong? A stream would be easier to cross, which is in our favor.”

  Silence.

  “KC? Don’t bail on me now. We have to proceed.”

  She released her grip, and said in quavering tones, “I know, but…”

  What was going on? Cooper drew her close. She needed reassurance, not a reprimand. “You can talk to me.”

  A quick intake of breath. “I can’t swim.”

  He stopped himself in time before ‘pfft’ slipped across his lips. Instead, he asked, “Is that all? No problem—”

  “Easy for you to say. Did you nearly drown when you were six years old?”

  Now her questions last Saturday about fishing off the pier made sense. As did her hesitancy to move forward. “I learned to swim before I started school, so I can’t relate to your experience. Tell me about it while we walk.” He dropped his arm from her shoulder and led the way.

  A minute passed before she opened up. “It was a few weeks before Mom and Dad finalized my adoption.”

  She kept close to his heels, so he heard her whispered description clearly.

  “I lived in a foster home with two other girls, both older than me. They made fun of me because I was of mixed race and were probably jealous because of my arranged adoption. The family took us to a park for a picnic where the adults let us wander off. The girls ganged up on me and pushed me into a stream. It wasn’t very deep, but they held me under, and when I managed to get up, they pushed me back down.”

  Yeah, that trauma could last a lifetime. Cooper slowed and waited until KC was beside him. “I can see why you’re concerned about the river.”

  “Bodies of water scare me. I know it’s an irrational fear, but I will not experience that dread again. I couldn’t breathe. My lungs were on fire.”

  What should he say? Something more positive. “But you went fishing with your family.”

  “On the banks only. Always with my feet on dry ground.” She prodded his side. “I lost out on several movie gigs because I wouldn’t provide stunt cover to anyone in a water scene.” A brighter tone now coated her words.

  “Well, rookie Agent Briggs, swimming must be the only thing you can’t do.”

  He expected a light-hearted response from her, but she halted beside a tall tree and folded her arms. “No, Agent Callahan. There’s something else I can’t do.”

  Standing as close as he could to enable him to see her expression, he raised his hand to touch her shoulder, but let it fall.

  Her scowl was unexpected.

  “What else? You’re one of the most accomplished women I know.”

  “I can’t marry and adopt a bunch of kids, which has been my dream.”

  A strange switch of topics. What did marrying have to do with swimming? Nothing, you doofus. She’s pouring out her innermost thoughts. Don’t blow it. “Let’s sit and rest a minute.” He sank against the trunk, and she slid down next to him. “What’s happened to change your mind?”

  KC rested her elbows on her bent knees, head lowered. “This is not exactly the time or place—”

  “It’s the perfect time.” He wanted to rub her shoulder, but he sensed her emotionally distancing herself from him.

  Silence surrounded them. Good. At least Barbara wasn’t on their heels. Cooper rested his head on the trunk and looked up. Patchy clouds revealed pinpoints of light. Stars—

  “When you told me about my birth mother’s cancer that really knocked me off center. I’d had genetic testing done, but the results were inconclusive. Now I know ovarian cancer runs in my family, and a reoccurrence of the disease is highly possible.”

  “But—”

  She held up a hand in a stop sign gesture, and he hushed.

  “There’s no way I’ll saddle a man, a husband, with the possibility of a short marriage, and a houseful of children to care for
.”

  “Why don’t you let the man decide?”

  She pushed up in one effortless motion and stood with her back toward him. “Yeah, right. Just like Kevin did.”

  Now she was wading into uncharted territory. Dare he ask? “Who’s Kevin?”

  “My ex-fiancé. He wimped out on me the day before my cancer surgery.”

  The jerk.

  Cooper recalled the insensitive way he’d told KC about her mother and flinched. He was the jerk.

  No wonder her attitude toward him had made a one-eighty.

  31

  Slogging through the raw undergrowth demanded more strength than Cooper had to offer. If noise wasn’t a factor, he could have made more headway, but trying to keep their progress undetectable was an uphill battle. Which he was losing. A quick check of the compass assured him they were on the right course, but the loud gurgling water, and KC’s tight grasp on his arm, reminded him of her fear.

  To rescue Sadie, they had to cross the river to locate a phone or a vehicle.

  Although they’d used hushed voices all night, because of her agitated state, he said, “Remember to whisper. We’ll check the depth of the water and then decide what to do. You might only have to get your feet wet.” He could hope for such an outcome.

  “I’m not going in. If I can’t jump across, or use steppingstones, I’ll…”

  The land dipped sharply. Cooper relied on his cane to keep himself upright as he descended.

  KC released her grip and followed close behind him, ragged breaths highlighting her dread.

  Maybe he could give her a piggyback ride or throw her over his shoulder. Nope. One false step—very possible with his weak knee—and they’d both end up in the drink.

  “We’re close.” Why state the obvious? They both heard the rushing water. No more babbling brook. More like a rowdy torrent. “Wait here while I see what we’re facing.”

  With care, he stepped down to the water’s edge. He shone the flashlight over the expanse and let out a relieved sigh. Wide, but not tumultuous. In fact, the noise came from the stream cascading over a downed tree and a cluster of rocks to his right where it tumbled into the darkness. He plunged his cane into the water in front of him. Seriously? Only eight inches deep. Accumulated debris, pebbles, silt made it the perfect crossing spot.

  “KC, come and check this out.”

  When she stood beside him, he illuminated the stream. “See.” He gestured toward his cane. “It’s not very deep. We can walk across. No problem.” Easy for him to say. He waited for her reaction.

  “Sure, it’s shallow right here, but what about in the middle? Have you waded in that far?”

  “No, but I will.” Good thing his boots were waterproof. He settled one foot firmly before moving the cane and his other foot. Seven steps later, he turned and aimed the light at her. “I’d say eight to nine inches deep at the most. Maybe fourteen feet wide. My socks are still dry.”

  By the time he made it back to her, she had retreated up the bank. Not a good sign. The throbbing ache in his knee nixed the climb for him. “KC, we have to cross. I’ll hold your hand. Use your flashlight to see just how deep—I mean how shallow—the water is.”

  She remained still.

  Now what? He couldn’t leave her here.

  “You win.” Her words barely reached his ears above the thrashing waterfall.

  Why the sudden change of heart? No time to ask. He held out his hand, which she clasped as she neared the water. “I’ll keep you safe, KC.” He meant every word, and not only for the present situation. “You might get water in your boots. It’ll be cold, but you will make it across.”

  Hand in hand, they ventured into the stream. Her tight grip cut off the circulation to his fingers. But he wasn’t about to let her know. One step. Two.

  She sucked in air. “I…I’ve got to turn back.”

  “No. We’re halfway there.” They weren’t, but he trudged ahead. “Turn on your light. The water is shallow.”

  She did as he suggested. “OK. It’s not even up to the top of my boots.”

  “I told you. Ten more steps. You can do it.”

  Light bounced off the bank in front of them, and she hurried to the edge, climbing up without his aid. “I made it.” She plopped down on a large rock.

  The tense crossing had sapped what little strength Cooper had left. He settled next to KC whose knee bounced with such vigor she could have churned butter. But she’d crossed the stream.

  “I knew you’d succeed. Good for you. How are you feeling?”

  “Strange. Five minutes ago, if you’d told me I’d walk across a river, I’d have…” Head lowered, her shoulders heaved.

  Was she crying?

  “Hey, kid. You faced a fear and conquered it.”

  Swiping a hand across her face, she looked at him. “Whoa. I don’t think I’m going swimming any time soon. But thanks for the vote of confidence. One step at a time, as they say. What now?”

  Did she never tire? “I have to rest. Let’s look for a more comfortable spot.”

  She stood and drew his handgun from her back waistband. “Here. I’m surprised I didn’t lose it back there.”

  “I’ll stow it in the holster. Thanks.” After he adjusted his boot, he latched onto his cane and eased up. How much farther could he travel before his knee gave out? One way to find out. Rest and then trek on.

  Striding ahead of him, KC disappeared. But she soon returned and said, “There’s a sheltered glade ahead. We can rest there.”

  “Great.” Cooper hobbled behind her, eager to lie down.

  The cleared patch looked as though it had been specially prepared for them. He crumpled to the ground, glad KC had the light directed toward another part of the clearing and couldn’t witness his weakness. Once free of his pack, he shoved it under his knee then folded his arms behind his head. “I’ll close my eyes for a bit, but we need to be on the move, soon.”

  “Sure.” She’d piled a bunch of dry leaves to form a pillow and released a sigh as she made herself comfortable. “I’ll keep watch.”

  A rift in the clouds allowed Cooper to stare at the array of stars. Thank You, God, for keeping us safe thus far. The ease with which the words formed were all due to KC’s influence. In their brief association, she had affected his life in more ways than he cared to count. Could it continue? The recent revelation of her fear of water, at least knee-depth or more, could be a detriment to her being an all-around qualified agent. His evaluation at the conclusion of her training would have to include this new detail. Oh, KC, what will I do? If you don’t make the cut, will I ever see you again? I need you in my life. With those words on his heart, he fell asleep.

  ~*~

  Cooper sat up, hand on the shotgun. What had awakened him?

  KC stirred. “Sorry, I couldn’t stay awake.” She rubbed her eyes. “I had a nightmare.”

  Ah. Her groan and call for help. “About crossing the river?”

  “Uh-uh. Nothing to do with water. What’s the time?”

  Smooth change of subject. The thick blanket of fog that shrouded the brush blocked the morning sunlight. He’d have to use conventional methods and checked his watch. “No! It’s ten o’clock. We slept for hours. Too long.”

  “We obviously needed the rest. Maybe residual effects of the drug. How much farther, do you think?”

  Slipping on his backpack, he said, “Barbara mentioned the other cabin was less than a mile from hers. I’d say we’re more than halfway.”

  “She could have been lying.”

  “I hope not. In daylight we’ll make better time, but we need to be alert for the shooters from last night.”

  KC wrapped her arms around her middle. “I’d wade the river again for some coffee. No, just kidding.” She smothered a chuckle.

  “We’ll beg the owner of the cabin to treat us. I need your help, please.”

  Once on his feet, or rather, foot, Cooper drew in great gulps of air. Without the cane, he’d never make it.
He might even have to ask KC for support. Not yet. He stepped forward and clenched his teeth against a growl of pain.

  “Hey, let me help you.”

  Before he could take another breath, she slipped her arm around his middle.

  In no position to object, he rested his arm on her shoulders. “Thanks.”

  The speed of their trek to the river seemed excessive compared to the tortoise-rate they now had to accept.

  Not being able to put any pressure on his knee, he was forced to rely on the cane and KC’s assistance. To take his mind off his pain, he whispered, “Care to tell me about your nightmare?”

  Her silence at first seemed to give him an answer. Then she shrugged. “Why not? I have a recurring dream where I’m in a car with my brothers. Sometimes we crash. Other times we make it home in one piece. Tonight, we crashed.”

  “Did something like that happen in real life?”

  “No. My brothers are careful drivers.” She stumbled but caught herself by latching onto a nearby branch. “That was close. I sure don’t need to sprain my ankle.”

  “Right. Let’s take a break.” He rested against the tree while she rolled her shoulders. His constant weight must be wreaking havoc on her. “Sorry, KC.”

  “No need to apologize. We’re partners, remember.”

  He grinned. “Yup. Time to move. Whoever shot at us last night must have given up.”

  Once in a compatible gait, she returned to describing her dream. “The crash is not the worst part of my nightmare. It’s when Bear and George are arrested.”

  “For what?”

  “I… Let me ask you a question. Do you remember when your brother or sister got their driver’s licenses?”

  “Sure. By then we lived in Houston, in the ‘burbs, but we’d learned to drive Dad’s old pickup on West Texas country roads. However, that didn’t stop Mom from biting her nails when they made solo ventures into the city. Especially Jenny. She never met a speed limit she agreed with.”

  “Most parents are concerned about their kids obeying the rules of the road, but…”

  He frowned at her trailing words. “What’s that got to do with your brothers?”