Tainted Evidence (Evidence Series Book 10)

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Tainted Evidence (Evidence Series Book 10) Page 24

by Rachel Grant


  “How do you know this?” She wished she could see his face, but they walked single file, with her in front. She stumbled on purpose so she could look back at him. “Well?” she said, prompting him.

  He shrugged and gave her a nasty grin. “We’ve got another partner in security, tipped us off to everything Warner knows, including the fact that he knows who I am now, so once you’ve served your purpose, you’re going to disappear.”

  That sent another jolt of fear through her. The look in his eyes said he meant every word. So this man wanted her alive today, but tomorrow was anyone’s guess.

  “You know, at first, the phone thing was a major fuckup, but then my boss said it was good. We can use the phone to hack into Raptor. They’ll think they’re using it to hack into us, but they have no idea what we’re capable of. I should thank you.”

  He still had the phone on him? She couldn’t keep the spark of hope from her face. Josh could track them, even in these woods. Josh had told her he had a high-end hybrid smartphone that could switch to satellite when there wasn’t cell coverage.

  “Don’t get excited.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black rectangle, then gave her yet another awful grin. “I removed the battery. Need to keep it off until I get it to my boss’s tech guru.”

  Shit.

  This man wasn’t dumb. He wasn’t the boss, but he also wasn’t a fool.

  He put the battery back in his pocket and pointed the gun at her face. “Get moving.”

  She turned to the path ahead. The canopy grew thicker as the trees got taller, and the forest darkened. She’d always loved hiking in Pacific Northwest forests, yet never before had the moss-covered trees seemed so ominous. The smell of earth and pine now carried the scent of fear.

  There were supposed to be sasquatch in these woods. The name sasquatch came from a British Columbia tribe, and in her work recording Traditional Cultural Properties, she’d interviewed tribal members in Oregon and Washington who’d seen the creatures.

  She wasn’t a believer herself, but she had no doubt the men and women who’d shared their stories had seen something, and who was she to say they were wrong?

  Today, she wanted to believe in sasquatch. She wanted a bigfoot to spring from the trees and save her from the real monster in these woods. Today, she’d look for hope wherever she could find it, be it Josh or Harry and the Hendersons.

  She gripped her stick and planted it with her next step. It was a worthy club, even if a bit unwieldy. If she couldn’t find hope from without, she’d make her own. She’d find her moment and bash the bastard with the barbed tree branch.

  Minutes passed as she trudged through the woods, looking for an opening. A branch snapped with a loud crack in the trees nearby, and she turned, expecting to see a deer or other critter, but there was nothing there.

  Was that Josh?

  But with his training, Josh wouldn’t make a sound like that unless he wanted to.

  She kept walking, using her peripheral vision to scan the ground for tree roots, keeping her gaze straight ahead. She spotted a root and let it catch her heel before she’d planted the walking stick. She let out a loud scream as she pitched forward, the hard, damp earth racing toward her.

  She rolled with her fall and swung the stick around, slamming it into her captor’s arm, just above the elbow, with all her strength.

  He maintained his grip on the gun, but now it was pointed to the sky, so she pulled back and hit him again, this time catching his hand and hitting his head as the branch arced down.

  He dropped the gun, his hands moving to cup his head. He’d been caught by a barb, and there was an open gash on his face.

  She scrambled forward and grabbed the gun. She pointed it at him and said, “Now it’s your turn to get up and walk, asshole.” If Josh and/or sasquatch weren’t in these woods to help her, she’d march him back to the car and wait for the police. They had to be nearby.

  Cold blue eyes glared at her. “Bitch. No fucking way I’m taking orders from you. You’ll have to shoot me.”

  “You think I won’t? You drugged me and put me in a trunk! You hit me and held me at gunpoint.”

  “And now you’ve hit me and are holding me at gunpoint. Let’s call it even.”

  “You’re insane.”

  “No. I’m walking away from here.” He rose to his feet, hands in the air. Blood dripped down the bloody gash on his face. He turned, presenting his back to her, and set off into the woods, leaving the trail. “Go ahead, shoot me in the back.”

  Her hands shook wildly as she pointed the weapon at his retreating form. Could she shoot him? He wasn’t threatening her. He was leaving. She’d never even fired a gun before. Could she shoot a human being who wasn’t actively threatening her?

  Could she pull the trigger at all?

  Maybe the gun had no bullets and that was why he wasn’t afraid to walk away. Maybe he realized she’d figure that out and he could no longer scare her with the useless weapon. She raised the pistol, pointing it at the forest canopy, and wrapped both hands around the handle. She tried to squeeze the trigger but couldn’t do it. Was the safety on? She didn’t see one. She put her left index finger over her right one, both crossing the trigger. This had to be terrible shooting form, but with pressure from both fingers, she managed to squeeze the trigger.

  The report of the bullet echoed through the forest. The recoil made her arms jolt upward, and she wobbled on her heels.

  Her abductor was now thirty feet away. He glanced back, and the asshole laughed at her. “Your aim is a bit off.” And then he turned and kept walking, disappearing between the trees.

  She backed up, pressing her spine against a large tree. Tears slid down her face, and her arms shook, still clutching the gun in a death grip pointed toward the patch of trees in which he’d disappeared.

  23

  The crack of the bullet echoing through the woods sent a sharp, fresh wave of fear through Josh. He gave up on stealth and ran down the path full bore, easily following Maddie’s spike-heeled footprints along with Peyton Hoffman’s size twelve hiking boots.

  “Maddie!” he shouted. If she’d been shot, she needed to know help was on the way.

  “Josh!”

  Her responding shout sent relief through him. “I’m coming!” He used his headset to update the police officers who were somewhere behind him, then increased his speed, running as fast as the terrain allowed, the ground a blur beneath his feet.

  He rounded a bend, and there, in the shadows of the forest, he saw her pale pantsuit as she stood pressed against a tree. She held a gun pointed into the forest to his left. She jerked and turned the pistol in his direction.

  He held up his hands, pointing his own gun into the air. “It’s me, Maddie. Where is Hoffman?”

  She jerked the gun back to his left. “Hoffman? Is that his name?”

  “Yes. Peyton Hoffman. He and his brother are security guards at Nielsen Tower.” He jogged toward her. Tracking the line of the pistol with his eyes, he said, “Did he go that way?”

  She nodded. “He walked away when I got the gun.” She let out a heaving breath. “I couldn’t shoot him in the back. I wanted to. But I couldn’t. I’ve never shot a gun before. What if I killed him instead of just wounding him so he couldn’t escape?”

  He reached her and saw the tears tracking down her cheeks. Her face was red on one side and her skin and clothing streaked with dirt. She didn’t lower the gun or take her gaze off the forest where her abductor had disappeared. He pointed his own gun in that direction with one hand, and gently lowered her outstretched arms with his other hand. “I’ve got this, honey.” She resisted for a moment, then dropped her arms, keeping a firm grip on the gun with one hand, and slumped back against the tree.

  She let out a sharp, deep sob that wrenched his heart. “He got away.”

  Every muscle in Josh’s body wanted to chase after the man who’d hurt Maddie, but instinct had him reaching toward her and pulling her to his chest
, even as he kept his gun trained outward, ready to fire. She needed him by her side more.

  She curled against him, pressing her red cheek to his chest, and her body shook with sobs. He stroked her back. “You’re amazing, Maddie. You fought him and escaped all by yourself. It doesn’t matter that he got away. What matters is you’re safe.”

  “Am I? He’s still out there.”

  “But we know who he is. His life as he knows it is over. His brother’s life is over. They’ll be caught. Police officers are only a few minutes behind me on the trail. They’ll catch him.”

  He pressed the button on his headset and gave the officers in the forest an update, then cupped her face with his free hand. “You did an amazing job. Kicking out the taillight. Leaving an easy to follow trail in the forest. How did you overpower him and get the gun?”

  “I hit him with my walking stick.”

  He’d noted the addition to her tracks on the trail and had suspected she’d picked up a stick. “I’m impressed.” In truth, impressed didn’t begin to describe how he felt.

  She studied the gun in her hand. It was noticeably shaking.

  “Careful with that. The first pull on that kind of gun is hard—it’s basically like the safety. After that, the gun is cocked and easy to fire.”

  Her hand wobbled, and he took the weapon from her, removed the magazine, and ejected the round from the chamber. He then tucked the gun and magazine in his jacket pocket.

  “He still has your phone,” she said.

  He smiled. “Even better.”

  “He said his boss wants to use it to hack Raptor. He thinks their hackers can outsmart your system.”

  “They’ll be in for a nasty surprise, then.” He tapped his headset and called the home office. After informing everyone Maddie had escaped her captor and was safe with him, he said, “Keith, we’re going to need Mothman to work his magic. The next time my phone is powered up, we need to run the Vampire protocol.”

  “Hoffman got away with your phone?”

  “Yes.”

  “Damn, that’s a nice stroke of luck.”

  Maddie looked at him, head cocked in question, and mouthed, Vampire protocol?

  “We let them hack through a few layers to get to a dummy network. Make them think they’re safe in our system, when really they’re just inviting us in so we can invade theirs.” He tightened his arm around her back and couldn’t help but smile. Impulsively giving her his cell phone had a domino effect, and they’d yet to reach the finale.

  Shouts sounded in the distance, and Josh called out to let them know their position. Within minutes, the woods were flooded with officers, several of whom went off in search of Peyton Hoffman.

  Josh reluctantly let go of Maddie so she could give the officers her account. Under armed escort, they returned to the main road, and paramedics whisked her inside an ambulance to examine her. She refused transport to the hospital, claiming she was fine, and much as he wanted to be certain there were no lingering effects of whatever agent had been used to drug her, he was glad she wasn’t whisked away, out of his reach and protection.

  He never wanted to let her out of his sight again.

  She emerged from the back of the ambulance in her torn, dirty clothing, looking more beautiful than he’d ever seen her. It could be the way the evening sun cut through the scant canopy by the side of the road and landed on her delicate features. Her cheek remained bright red, but she was stunning just the same.

  Madeline Foster was it for him, and he’d been a fool to let confusion get in the way. She probably wasn’t traditionally beautiful. He couldn’t possibly know because all he saw when he looked at her was perfection. Lovely eyes, clear skin, pert nose, high cheekbones. Once upon a time, he’d looked at her face and seen a distorted version of Trina Sorensen, but now he only saw Madeline. He could come up with a list of a hundred ways the women were different physically, and could no longer understand why he’d ever thought them similar.

  He knew Maddie now. Maddie. And he was fairly certain he was falling in love—really in love, not infatuation—for the first time in his life.

  Ignoring the officer who was questioning—and berating—him, he crossed the distance to the most beautiful woman he’d ever met and pulled her into his arms. He planted his mouth on hers and kissed her. A savage kiss, he plundered her mouth with his tongue. Everything he took, she gave. She threaded her fingers into his hair and pulled, even as she bit his lips and sucked on his tongue.

  The heat of the kiss rocked him. Probably rocked her. It was primal and unlike anything he’d ever been a part of.

  He raised his head and met her gaze. They were surrounded by at least a dozen people, but the only person in this sphere who mattered was Maddie.

  “Get me out of here,” she said.

  He pressed his lips to hers then said, “As you wish.”

  Maddie leaned her cheek against the cool glass of the passenger window. “I want a shower. Now. Ten minutes ago. I feel gross.” The plea came without premeditation. The words—the need to be clean—were primal. She usually enjoyed the smell of salt and sweat on her skin. It was an achievement. A hike to a beautiful summit. A virtuous workout. Amazing sex.

  But this was none of that, and she felt itchy and dirty.

  “Chase is searching for a secure hotel and is hitting snags. It’s going to take a few hours.”

  “Take me to my house, then.”

  “Your house keys were taken from your purse. We need to have all the locks changed.”

  “Your house?” she asked, feeling a little desperate.

  “The window-replacement project hit a snag. Totally unsecure.”

  “Take me to a cheap motel, then. I’ll pay for it.”

  The rhythmic clicking of the right-turn signal filled the cab of the SUV. “How ’bout we go to Bond Ironworks? There’ll be at least a dozen bodybuilders there ready to protect you to the ends of the earth.”

  “Works for me,” she said.

  Ten minutes later, they entered Bond Ironworks through the front door. Josh led her straight to the unisex/multigender/accessible/private shower, a ten-by-fifteen-foot room with a toilet, sink, large curtained changing vestibule, and wide shower stall.

  “I’ll find you some clean clothes,” Josh said before leaving her alone in the tiled room.

  She stripped slowly in front of the full-length mirror, examining her body for bruises and other imperfections.

  She was so far from being anyone’s ideal of womanhood, but she couldn’t help think she should be appealing to some men or women. She wasn’t skinny in any sense of the word—not like Trina—but that meant she had curves. More than Trina had, that’s for sure.

  And damn, if it didn’t suck that she was comparing herself to a woman she loved and held dear as one of her best friends and confidantes.

  She wasn’t in competition with Trina. How could she be? Trina was happily married, and they lived on opposite coasts. But it was there, planted in her brain. Would Josh Warner find her more sexually appealing than Dr. Trina Sorensen?

  She was far more not-like Trina physically than she was like her. Trina was skinny like a rail. Which was sexy in its own way. Maddie was curvy. Too curvy for Josh’s tastes? But she’d never felt insecure about her proportions before, and she hated that she felt it now.

  But then, Josh had rattled her when he didn’t trust her. And really, that was the core of the issue. Why had he been so ready to take an insecure seventeen-year-old’s word without even minimal due diligence?

  Probably because he didn’t really care about her. She was a substitute for Trina. Nothing more.

  But there was that hot kiss by the ambulance. The possessiveness of his mouth. The intensity and passion. That was for her and her alone. But she was afraid to believe in that kiss.

  She stepped into the spray of the shower, and it was gloriously hot. The steam filled the small room, too much for the bathroom fan. The scalding water pummeled her body, cleansing her skin of
Peyton Hoffman’s brutal touch. Of the panic and fear she’d felt in the trunk. Of the musk and dirt she’d picked up in the forest.

  It was a cleansing spray that left her stripped of natural oils and inhibitions.

  She stood in the steaming, bracing shower, naked of everything except her soul. She’d just suffered through and survived the most terrifying experience of her life, and all she wanted in this moment was for Josh Warner to want her.

  24

  Josh hung up the landline phone in Arthur’s office. He ran his hand over his face as he processed the latest development. Both Hoffman brothers were on the loose. The FBI had just missed nabbing Karl Hoffman at the hotel. Peyton had done a decent job of erasing his trail in the forest and escaped before dogs could be brought in to track him.

  But neither man could return to work at Nielsen Tower without facing consequences, so that was a small win. Very small, in the scheme of things, but he’d take it as a victory.

  Chase and Ava had settled into connecting rooms in a hotel by the Willamette River. Josh had a double bed waiting for him in Ava’s room, and Maddie had a king room on the same floor.

  The thought of Maddie splayed on her large bed had him hot with want. She could be taking a bath right now in the large tub. But instead, she was showering in the gym unisex bathroom, the only place he could think of that was safe and private.

  It was his fault she’d been doxed. His fault she’d had to fight Payton Hoffman in the forest. His fault she had that red mark on her cheek. His fault she’d probably have nightmares for the rest of her life reliving the experience of waking up to find herself bound and in the trunk of a moving vehicle.

  He shook himself, as if that could dislodge the guilt so he could deal with it later. He rose from behind Arthur’s desk and went to the closet, where the gym owner stored sweatpants and T-shirts sporting the Bond Ironworks logo. He grabbed a pair of medium women’s sweatpants and a T-shirt and hoodie, then opened a pack of socks and grabbed two pairs. Maddie probably wouldn’t want to wear shoes taken from the lost-and-found bin, so two pairs of socks would have to do until they got to her hotel room, where Chase had moved her stuff.

 

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