Christmas Witness Conspiracy

by Maggie K. Black

  She shoved her phone back in her coat, hustled out of the car and followed the trail of the man with the clipboard. Maybe she could wrap up the story and wouldn’t have to come back to this desolate place after all.

  “I told you it would bring more attention.” A man raised his voice. Jackie couldn’t see the speaker, though, as they were past the corner of the control building.

  “This is what you pay me for.” A second voice, deeper in tone and louder in volume, snapped back. “No one else had any better ideas.”

  “Well, you went too far. That detect—”

  “That’s enough. I told you I’d take care of it.”

  Jackie tensed and strained her ears. Was the first man trying to indicate a detective had been around? She didn’t want her presence known quite yet.

  “No. You’re done,” the softer-spoken man said. “Take your stuff and leave.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  The wind carried a muffled groan and what sounded like a physical struggle.

  “Fighting will only make it worse,” the deep voice said, eerily calm. “You’re dying either way.”

  The muscles in her stomach tensed at the threat until she could barely breathe. She pulled out her phone. Police would take too long to arrive if the closest city was an hour’s drive, but maybe the foreman of the construction crew could turn around on his snowmobile fast enough. No signal. She didn’t know if her text message from earlier had even sent.

  She peeked around the corner. The man with the clipboard collapsed to the ground, his face devoid of life. The other man pulled something that looked like a syringe out from the man’s shoulder—he had injected him right through his coat. He lifted his head.

  She pulled back before he could see her. Her left foot missed the sidewalk and sank into the snow with a crunch. Nearby birds stopped singing, and the air grew heavy with silence. Even the wind halted. Had he heard her?

  The crunching of his boots on the snow grew louder. The wind picked back up and made it hard to tell if the sound was coming her way, though. Should she bolt for it and risk being seen or hide? She pressed her back up against the building and sidestepped around the corner, taking care to stay on the shoveled sidewalk.

  “A little tip,” the deep voice announced, though she couldn’t see him. “If you’re going to hide, next time, don’t leave footprints behind.”

  She glanced down at the cement. Like a wet stamp, the tread of her boots had left their prints on the sidewalk. And the only way back to her car would be to run past him. Of all the times to not have a cell signal.

  She couldn’t hear his steps anymore. Maybe he was on the sidewalk, too.

  She continued to round the building. Her reflection, out of the corner of her eye, gave her pause. She peered into the windows of the building. No light, no sign of life, but the reflection revealed something else. The snowmobile that the man with the clipboard had ridden still had the key hanging from the ignition. She spun around. Her heart beat faster with indecision.

  Another crunch of the snow convinced her. She launched off her back heel and ran for it.

  “Hey! Come back here!” he yelled. “I just want to talk.”

  For a split second, she almost slowed down, but the dead body she ran past encouraged her to go faster. She flung her leg over the side of the vehicle and cranked the key. The snowmobile revved to life. Her bare hands covered the handles and twisted.

  The vehicle launched forward, jolting her backward slightly, but she clung to the handles and leaned toward them. The man was too close to her car, so she guided the snowmobile around the monstrous construction area and pointed the nose of the vehicle in the direction the construction foreman had traveled. There were tracks in the snow and ice indicating where he’d gone. If she could find him, he would accompany her safely to her car.

  A revving engine, twice as loud as hers, growled to life. She dared a look over her shoulder. A four-wheel ATV with giant wheels barreled her way. She focused on the tracks ahead, twisting the throttle of the snowmobile as far as it would go.

  The tracks twisted around the construction equipment that bordered the cement pads and drilling equipment that had yet to be installed. They were harder to follow here. She turned into a clearing in between two sections of forest. The man on the ATV would overtake her before she reached the forest, and the foreman wouldn’t be able to see her until she rode past the line of trees.

  On the left side, next to the drilling pads, a rock wall a hundred feet tall rose up from the ground, a natural fence of the property. The foothills and forest stood in front of her. The murderer continued chase, leaving her only one choice.

  She needed to outmaneuver him and get back on the road to her vehicle. His ATV may be fast, but the snowmobile handled sharp curves more gracefully. If she could get to her car with time to spare, surely she could drive away before his ATV overtook her.

  She twisted her handle hard to the left. Except, he swung wide and blocked her path. She revved the handles harder and headed for one of the foothills at full throttle. He’d taken away her options, and she’d completely lost sight of where the construction crew tracks had been.

  She vaulted up and over the foothill. A thin crevice was ten feet away, running diagonal from southeast to northwest, hidden from her view until now. She gasped, all her breath suddenly gone. She twisted the steering as far as it would go so she wouldn’t dive over the cliff. The crevice grew wider into more of a gorge. She rode parallel to it, straining her vision to see if the crevice had an end. Otherwise, how did the crew ever cross?

  Ahead, another hundred feet or so, the deep vault disappeared and was replaced by more rolling snowy hills. She’d soon be able to cross over to the forest sections. The ATV quad motor behind her grew louder.

  She glanced over her shoulder to gauge how close it was. A solid force punched her in the chest. Her head volleyed backward and forward before her body flew off the snowmobile.

  She hit the snow hard and started sliding. Her fingers, stinging from the cold, tried to dig into the snow like grappling hooks. Instead, she slipped downward on an unstoppable path to the edge. Her eyes caught sight of the snow-covered boulder that had crumpled the front nose of the snowmobile.

  A whoosh of air swept underneath her coat as gravity took her over the edge into nothingness. A scream tore from her throat. Her hands reached and grabbed blindly. Wood slapped her palms. She wasn’t fast enough to grab the branch, though. Another slam of impact hit her, this time right in her stomach.

  She couldn’t breathe. As she slipped off the branch or root remains that’d caught her, her fingers gripped the knots. Tears clouded her vision as she swung, holding tightly. Please let me breathe. Lightning flashes of pain at her temples stung before she sucked in a huge breath and cried out. Never before had getting the air knocked out of her hurt so much. Still, she clung to the branch, gulping in air. The tips of her boots searched to find a foothold to help carry some of her weight, but she was too far away from the cliff.

  The rev of an engine grew closer. Snow clumps tumbled over the cliff’s edge. The cold hit the top of her head. She shivered and almost lost her grasp. “Please, God,” she whispered. “Not again.”

  What was the use of trying? She was trapped, and the murderer had just arrived to finish her off.

  * * *

  Shawn Burkett jumped out of his truck. There was no time to lose.

  He’d been on his way to check that Pete Wooledge, the field archaeologist, had left before shutting down for the night when he’d spotted a reckless ATV bouncing near the crevice.

  Just past the land designated for the geothermal plant was a dangerous area without trails. Only the construction crew had special permission to motor in this direction, but they had strict instructions to follow the approved GPS and stay on the specified route until they reached the safer, groomed trails a few
miles away.

  Shawn had been ready to chase the driver down to write a ticket before he’d noticed the ATV was following a snowmobile. The moment the driver of the ATV spotted Shawn’s approach he’d turned toward the trees, no doubt to hide. Maybe the man had been actually chasing the snowmobile, then.

  There was no time to make a report to the field office. Whoever had fallen off the snowmobile had only seconds to spare before that branch gave way and they plummeted hundreds of feet. He grabbed his rescue pack and slapped it on his back. Normally, he took the time to examine the terrain and choose the best anchor before he rappelled off a cliff, but every second counted now. His movements were almost on autopilot, which could get him killed, so he fought to be fast but also mindful.

  The rope slipped easily through the hubs of the back wheels on his truck, and within sixty seconds he had the harness, tether and backup extensions set. “Hold on. Bureau of Land Management law enforcement ranger coming to get you.” He threw the rope over the edge. “Rope,” he called out as a warning.

  “I...I’m trying to hold on.” A woman’s soft voice drifted through the wind.

  He pushed down the surge of anger. That driver definitely had been chasing the woman, then. But at the moment, the reasons why weren’t important. He checked his carabiner and hitch before testing the rope slack and his grip. “I’ll be there in a second. Stay with me. It’s hard, but you can do it.”

  His morning and evening workout routine paid off at times like these. Fitness proved the best defense against such a physically demanding job. He leaned back into nothingness and kicked off. The moment his feet first met air always provided a burst of fear and adrenaline, but growing up in the northwest, he’d spent so many hours rappelling that the motion was almost like second nature. The bottom of his boots reached and gently pushed off the face of the cliff. The sides of the rocky crevice held only the slightest bit of snow in the cracks with only a hint of ice on the parts that got the most shade.

  The crack of a branch and a scream from below made his blood run colder than the frigid temperatures. “I’m coming. Hang on!” He slid the rope through his fingers. Too fast and he could lose control, but the woman might not last long enough for a careful descent.

  He shoved his soles off the rock face harder than normal and soared down, his gloved fingers loose around the braking rope. His feet dropped right below hers as one of her hands slid off the branch. He gripped the rope tight and let go with his left hand as the branch snapped clean.

  His left arm wrapped tightly around her waist and he pitched forward with the sudden weight. The branch narrowly missed them, and he thrust his right foot out to keep their heads from smashing against the rock face.

  She gasped and reached for the sharp edges.

  “I’ve got you,” he said. “We’re going to get out of this together.” He shifted his head away from the thick brown hair that was currently in his face. “Grab on to my rope. Stick your legs out and let’s balance on the rock. I’ll hook us together.”

  “You sure you got me?” Her voice was steadier, a good sign, and somehow familiar.

  “Yes, ma’am. Lean sideways into me, against me.” He spoke in soothing tones in hopes she didn’t panic or go into shock. “Good. Don’t let go of the rope. When you feel safe, I’m going to remove my arm from your waist and fashion an emergency harness.”

  She turned her head to look at the ropes dangling from his harness and snapped her head up. Their eyes met. “Shawn?” Her voice rose an octave. “What? Why—”

  His throat tightened with the same degree of shock in her voice. He studied her features as she stared at him, frozen in the awkward position. The same vibrant blue eyes that never missed a thing, the same mouth that could flash a smile to brighten the darkest of days and the same forehead creased in concentration. The Jackie Dutton he knew felt she had to understand literally everything that crossed her path. Why had someone been chasing her? “I’d like to ask what you’re doing here, but—”

  She nodded rapidly. “But we should probably focus on getting down safely first. I think it’ll be easier if you let me help but continue to make sure I don’t fall to my death. May I?” She reached across him and grabbed the section of free rope he had been about to unclip from his harness. She made quick work of wrapping the rope around her chest and looping it over her shoulders with a final knot in the center.

  He examined her work, though she’d always been better than him. The daughter of famed reality wilderness star Wolfe Dutton, she’d grown up learning all the techniques her dad demonstrated in his Surviving with Wolfe TV series.

  Shawn double-checked to make sure her knots were tight enough. “Is rappelling like riding a bike?”

  “Hardly. Though when you get trained on knots and rappelling safety from the time you can tie your own shoes, it’s hard to forget.” She blew out a breath and pointed to the extra carabiner hanging from his tether.

  He handed the item over and within a minute she’d adequately latched the rudimentary harness into his system. Snow began falling more heartily from above. An engine—no, multiple engines—revved loudly from above.

  “Oh, that’s not good...”

  “Maybe the driver realized what had happened and recruited help.”

  “Trust me, Shawn. If it’s the driver of that ATV, we don’t want his help.”

  His forehead tightened. He really needed to know how she was forced into this predicament. Jackie would’ve never been careless enough to snowmobile without knowing the terrain unless it was an emergency. He adjusted his stance. “I’m going to let go of you now. Ready?”

  She nodded rapidly, testing the grip, though he noticed she had bare hands and her knuckles were bright red. “Jackie, let me see your palms.”

  “I can do this.”

  Jackie had always bristled against help, but her determination could prove deadly if splinters hindered her ability to hold on. “Your palms are probably full of splinters.”

  Now at his side, she clenched her teeth. “We don’t have time to argue.”

  More chunks of snow fell from above. Her eyes flicked upward. “Shawn, please tell me you didn’t use your truck as an anchor.”

  “Do you have any idea how much that truck weighs? And there are chains on the tires. It’s perfectly safe.” He whipped his head around to follow her gaze. Hard chunks of frozen snow careened over the edge, barely missing their location. His truck slid forward. How? He’d put the parking brake on, he was sure of it.

  “I knew it.” Her voice shook. “They’re coming to finish the job. Is there enough rope to get us all the way down?”

  “Without making a new anchor?” The rope was four hundred feet long, but this particular spot in the crevice might be more than five hundred feet deep. The truck moved again, this time faster, as if being pushed to the edge. He didn’t understand what was happening except for what would be the result.

  His gaze searched the rock face wildly. Twenty feet to the left, he found what looked like their only chance. He pointed. “There. Can you get to that ledge?”

  Her eyes widened in horror but she nodded. Shawn looked over his shoulder once more and understood her raw fear. The side of his truck hung precariously over the edge. “Now!”

  He twisted and pressed off the rock face with his right foot. He reared back as far as possible. The momentum swung him forward like a pendulum. He grabbed the back of Jackie’s coat with his left hand, pulling her farther out from the cliffs in case he misjudged the trajectory, to prevent her from slamming against the sharp rock wall.

  She reached forward to the ledge with her arm and right leg outstretched. The moment her feet touched it, he also extended his feet, but more to serve as brakes. The soles of his boots hit against the ledge and stopped his trajectory. Except, a pendulum always swings backward. Jackie spun around as he fought against the pull. She grabbed the front of
his harness and dropped her weight in a squat so he wouldn’t pull them both off.

  The way she tugged at his jacket forced his satellite phone up and out of its holder. The phone soared down just as he found his equilibrium. He never heard it hit the ground.

  They both panted, clinging to each other on the small outcropping. “We made it,” she whispered. The echo in between the two rock walls amplified her words. But that wasn’t the only sound the echo magnified. The creaking of his truck reverberated once more as it was completely pushed over the edge.

  “The rope!” Jackie searched him over. “Shawn! The knots!”

  Every muscle in his body tensed. He’d knotted both ends of the rope for safety so even if he let go or fell, the knots in the ropes would save him. Those same knots would make sure they were dragged down with the truck. They would be snapped right down to the bottom and slammed into his favorite hunk of metal.

  “Unhook yourself from me.” If he was going down, he wasn’t taking her with him.

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” Their hands fumbled, both searching for the same thing on the rope. The ATC device prevented the rope from twisting or tangling when someone rappelled but also kept their harnesses attached to the rope. They had to get it detached. His thumb reached the carabiner and spun the lock with more force than he’d ever used.

  Her hands grabbed the clip before he could and she squeezed. The device released and shot away from them like a rocket, carrying the rope down to the ground without them.

  The truck spun in the air and hit the bottom of the canyon floor with a sickening crunch. As if to ensure Shawn understood the severity of his truck’s demise, it continued to creak and groan. It could have been them, broken and mangled at the bottom, if they hadn’t unhooked in time. “My truck,” he said. “We’ve been through a lot together.”