Ricochet

by Christy Barritt

  The sheriff rubbed his chin. “The trees that were cut down are black walnuts that were probably eighty years old.”

  “Okay, that makes sense. My granddad loved trees. He probably planted them there himself when he was a boy. It wouldn’t surprise me.”

  “Well, you’ve got groves and groves of them on your property. You have any idea what those trees would earn someone on the black market?”

  Nick shrugged. “I don’t know. A few thousands dollars.”

  “Five of them would give someone a paycheck of somewhere around a hundred thousand dollars.”

  “A hundred grand? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “Black walnut is sought after in the furniture business.” The sheriff looked at Molly. “Which brings us to the man you ran over on your way to the camp. He was a furniture maker from Germany and had apparently come to town to do some business. The only thing we don’t know is who’s selling these trees.”

  Molly nodded slowly as if processing everything. “So someone discovered them on the camp’s property and realized they could make a fortune. How many stumps did you find?”

  “Fifteen.”

  Nick’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s no small chunk of change.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  Nick’s gaze traveled to the woods in the distance. “So now we just have to figure out who’s behind the tree theft. Is this common? I never even stopped to think that maybe someone was cutting down my trees in order to sell them.”

  “I wouldn’t call it common, but it does happen. My gut tells me that Gene probably discovered what was happening and that’s why someone ended his life. Whoever’s doing this isn’t playing games. We’re checking with the state police to see if they pulled over any logging trucks within the past month or so. Whoever is doing this is only steps away from being caught.”

  “We can only hope. Any word on Cody?”

  The sheriff shook his head. “We’re out there combing the woods now, but so far we haven’t heard anything. His mom is worried sick. Rightfully so.”

  A worried wrinkle formed between Molly’s eyebrows. “What can we do to help?”

  Before the sheriff answered, two men from the search party came running from the woods. “Sheriff, we found something.”

  “Well, what is it?”

  The tall, lanky man gasped for breath. “We think you need to see it yourself. Nick and Molly, too.”

  Nick and Molly exchanged a glance. The group took off into the woods. More than anything, Nick wanted to put his hand at Molly’s elbow, to help guide her through this wilderness. But she’d made it clear they had no future together. He had to accept that. Despite that realization, his gaze constantly went to her, soaking in her beauty.

  He should have never let her slip through his fingers. Never.

  But right now they had other things to worry about.

  They stopped at the remnants of a small campfire in the forest. Nick shook his head. What was so important about this site that he and Molly had to come?

  One of the volunteers pointed to the edge of the fire. Nick took a step closer and squinted. There, in the ashes, were pictures of Nick and Molly taken throughout the last couple of weeks. One of them talking at the field of fireflies. Another of them sitting by the campfire. One of them laughing together, both looking content, happy. His gaze moved beyond the gut-clenching pictures, and he saw the Chainsaw Charlie doll that had scared Molly on her first night of camp and a white baseball cap with the name of a pharmaceutical company across it. The white material was stained with blood.

  The sheriff squatted down beside it, using a nearby stick to raise the singed hat into the air. “This isn’t Cody’s, is it?”

  Nick shook his head, trying to remember if he’d ever seen it before. “I don’t think so.”

  Molly cleared her throat. “No, it’s mine. Someone must have gotten it from my quarters.”

  Nick didn’t like this. He didn’t like this one bit.

  The sheriff pulled his lips into a tight line. “I’d say they’re trying to send you a message.”

  Molly nodded. “I’d say it’s working.”

  Enough was enough. Nick wanted to keep the camp open, but Cody’s life wasn’t worth it. He’d had some crazy dreams about reviving the camp and making it back into the place it had once been. That wouldn’t be happening, though. There were too many obstacles. All of this had been a whim, an opportunity that dropped unexpectedly into his lap. Now it was clear that the camp had gone too far downhill to fix—just like the possibility of a relationship with Molly. He needed to get on with his life. He’d been feeling sorry for himself for too long. He should just take the job at his dad’s church and accept his choices for what they were.

  Nick drew himself up straight, resolve hardening his muscles. “That settles it.”

  Sheriff Spruill stood. “Settles what?”

  “I’m shutting the camp down. For good.”

  Molly stepped toward, her eyes wide with alarm and surprise. “Why would you do that?”

  “There comes a point where you have to see the writing on the wall. I’m going to accept the position at my dad’s church and go on with life just as I’m expected to do.”

  “Nick...”

  His scowl greeted her. “Enough is enough, Molly. I’m done.”

  And with that, he stomped back toward the camp.

  * * *

  Molly lay in bed that evening, staring at the ceiling above and praying for sleep to find her.

  Cody still hadn’t been found. The search had come up with nothing except Molly’s bloody baseball cap. Thankfully, the blood had been tested and it wasn’t human. Still, Molly prayed that Cody was okay and that he’d be found soon.

  Nick’s words replayed in her head. Would Nick really shut down the camp? She could understand his frustration to an extent. All of this would pass eventually. But at what cost, she wondered.

  Nick had told her earlier that she could stay another week. That would give her time to find something new, he’d insisted. But then she needed to be gone.

  She could tell he was hurt by her rejection. But she and Nick could never be together again. She would only be setting herself up for more heartbreak, especially now that he was taking the position at his father’s church. She had to prove to herself that she was not her mom. She could stand on her own two feet. She was worthy of respect.

  So why did her heart hurt so much?

  A sound outside her door caught her ear. Was that the squeaky screen door opening? Had Nick gone somewhere? She climbed on her knees and peered out the window blinds above her bed. The woods stared back at her.

  Perhaps Molly had been hearing things.

  Still, she sat on the edge of the bed, perched for fight or flight. Several minutes of silence passed.

  She’d simply been hearing things, she concluded. She pulled her legs back under the covers.

  Then she heard a creak in the hallway. That was definitely a creak. And it was close. Someone was outside her room, she realized.

  Her breathing intensified. She needed a plan and fast. Her gaze skimmed her surroundings. Nothing she could use as a weapon.

  She watched the door handle and saw it slowly turn.

  She blinked, trying to convince herself that she was imagining things.

  But she knew she wasn’t. Someone was trying to get into her room.

  Quickly—quietly—she darted behind the door. Best-case scenario, sh
e could take the intruder by surprise and then flee from the room. Worst-case scenario... Well, she didn’t want to go there.

  Suddenly, the knob released. A swish came from beneath the door. Molly’s gaze rushed to the crack under the door where she saw a white piece of paper. Holding her breath, she reached for the paper. Her hands trembled as she fumbled to open the folds.

  Even in the dark, she could read the crudely written words.

  Nick’s next.

  Her heart pounded in her ears. She had to talk to him. Now.

  She hesitated with her hand on the door for only a moment. Sure, the intruder could still be out there. But she had to get upstairs. She had to warn Nick.

  Her sweaty hands slid across the metal before finally finding traction. Everything looked peaceful on the other side, no evidence that anyone had been here.

  She scrambled upstairs. Her hip knocked into a table with a rotary phone on it on the way and a device crashed to the floor with a jangle. If the intruder was still in the building, her location was no secret now.

  She raised her hand to pound on Nick’s door when she noticed it wasn’t latched. With bated breath, she pushed it open. An empty bed waited on the other side.

  She closed her eyes a moment. Where was he? The office?

  She scrambled down the hallway, but found the office empty also. Where was he? Had the intruder already gotten to him?

  Hurrying back down the stairs, she decided to try his cell phone. It often didn’t work out here, but she’d try anyway. Just as she put the phone back on the receiver, the device jangled. She froze a moment, expecting the worst, before answering.

  “Molly?”

  She recognized the voice immediately—Nick’s mom. She didn’t have time for this.

  “Mrs. White, Nick’s in danger. You’ve got to call the sheriff for me and tell him to come out to the camp.”

  “In danger? What do you mean?”

  “I don’t have time to explain. Please. Just do it. I’m going to go see if I can find him.”

  Before Mrs. White could argue, Molly hung up and dialed Nick’s cell phone. It went straight to voice mail. Where was he?

  The grove, she realized. That’s where he always went when he wanted to think. Was that where he was now? She had to check.

  She ran down the path toward the grove, ignoring the woods lurking nearby. Think about Nick, she chanted silently. She had to find him. The tree thieves couldn’t have found him yet.

  Finally, she reached the grove. Her gaze scanned the area. Empty. No one was there.

  She leaned over and tried to catch her breath. The first tear popped to her eyes. Nick. Where are you? I thought for sure you’d be here. What if...?

  She couldn’t let her thoughts go there. Maybe he was somewhere else. But where?

  Movement clattered behind her. She straightened, realizing how foolish she’d been to come out here alone. She should have waited for the sheriff, but she’d been so desperate to find Nick. Her need to warn him had outweighed her safety. She twirled around.

  “Molly?”

  “Nick?” He jumped down from his perch in a live oak, brushing the dirt from his jeans and looking at her, perplexed. She raced to him and threw her arms around him. “What were you doing?”

  His expression remained pinched, concerned. “Thinking. Praying. What are you doing here?”

  She grasped his arm as the ominous threat slammed back into her mind. “Nick, we’ve got to get out of here. Someone broke into the staff quarters and left me a note saying that you’re next.”

  His eyebrows drew together. “I’m next?”

  She nodded quickly, urgently as she grasped his hand and tugged him. “We need to get out of here. Now.”

  He took a step away. “Okay. Let’s go.”

  They’d only taken a few steps when a deep voice beckoned behind them. “Why couldn’t you two just take the hint and leave?”

  Molly and Nick froze. She was too late. The person behind Gene’s murder and Cody’s kidnapping had found them. Now they would be just two more casualties of this crime spree.

  Slowly, they both turned around. A man in a black mask emerged from the woods, a gun pointed straight at them. Though Molly could only see his eyes, she saw the evil in their depths.

  SEVENTEEN

  Nick stared at the gun and swiftly moved Molly behind him. The seriousness of the situation pressed on him. Life or death. He was going to fight to ensure life won over death—Molly’s life in particular. “What do you want with us?”

  “I want you to come with me.”

  Nick shook his head, determined to keep his voice even. “We’re not going anywhere with you. Why don’t you put that gun down so we can talk?”

  “Nothing to talk about.” The man raised his gun and fired a shot. Molly screamed and clutched him tighter. “Next shot goes into the girl. Now move.”

  Nick raised his hands. “No need for anyone to get hurt. Why don’t you just let me go with you? Leave Molly out of this.”

  “No. Both of you. Into the woods. Now.” He pointed with his gun toward the forest.

  “But—”

  The man pistol-whipped Nick across the temple. Pain screamed across his head, and his hands went to his hairline. He could feel the blood there.

  “Nick!” Molly reached for him.

  “I’m okay, Molly.”

  “One more word and a bullet goes through the girl. Need I say more?”

  Nick reached for Molly’s hand, grimacing. “We’re coming.”

  Nick saw the fear on Molly’s face, in her wide eyes and pale skin. He had to protect her, had to keep her safe. But how would he do that when a gun-wielding maniac was merely feet away?

  Lord, help us.

  They stepped into the woods, the man right behind them. Nick kept a tight grip on Molly’s hand as they plunged into the dark wilderness. The foliage was thick here and the low branches that didn’t block their way grabbed at them, snaring their skin and clothes. Molly’s hand trembled in his.

  “Keep moving.” The man shoved his gun into Nick’s back.

  “You can have the trees, you know. Nothing’s worth a life.”

  The man grunted.

  They had to split up, Nick realized. The man couldn’t chase both of them. It might give Molly a chance to get away before the man harmed her—or worst.

  “Keep going straight until you reach the creek,” the man ordered.

  Why did his voice sound familiar? Nick had a feeling he knew the man; he just couldn’t place the voice. The man seemed to keep his speech low, as if on purpose.

  Nick kept hold of Molly’s hand and began tapping out a message on her palm, just like they’d done as teenagers. Only when they were teenagers, they’d tapped out sweet messages of love and romance. Right now, Nick tapped out “go left.” He prayed that she got the message. When he finished, he glanced over at her. She gave a subtle nod. Good, she understood.

  Their feet slipped atop the underbrush and rocks leading to the creek bed. Nick’s heart began beating double-time as scenarios on how his plan would play out began racing through his mind.

  He’d distract the gunman while Molly got away. She could follow the creek until she reached his grandfather’s cabin. From there, hopefully she could find her way back to the camp. He prayed she could.

  They reached the creek. It was now or never. Nick squeezed Molly’s hand. As she let go, Nick swung toward the man behind him.


  * * *

  Molly glanced back and saw Nick wrestle the gunman to the ground. She started to reach out, desperate to help. But how?

  “Go!” Nick yelled.

  She had to run. Nick was risking his life so that she might have a chance. She couldn’t let the opportunity be wasted.

  “Now!” Nick shouted.

  “Get her!” Another man appeared out of nowhere and started toward Molly.

  She darted into the woods. She couldn’t stay near the creek—certainly it would be too easy to find her if she did. So instead she used the woods as a cover. She crept between the trees and around rocks and stumps, hoping to conceal herself.

  The deeper into the woods she got, the faster her heart raced. Sweat covered her palms and forehead. Shakes started from deep inside and traveled until they reached the tips of her fingers.

  Was Nick okay? What if the masked man had shot him?

  Tears pushed to her eyes again. She couldn’t think like that. She had to think about staying hidden, about getting back to the camp so she could tell the sheriff what was going on.

  A twig snapped in the distance. The second gunman was still on her trail. She had to keep moving, keep going forward.

  Her feet slipped at an embankment and she began sliding downward, toward the creek. She couldn’t hit the creek. If she did, there was no way she’d gain her footing enough to escape from the madman chasing her.

  Finally, she caught a root that jutted out. Her body jerked to a halt.

  The dark water waited to swallow her up below. If her hand slipped, she’d be submerged into the swamplike water beneath her. But a madman waited above her. What was she going to do?

  Another footfall sounded. Her pursuer was gaining ground. She couldn’t stay here, in plain sight.

  Taking a deep breath, she released the root and slid the rest of the way down the hill. Her body hit the murky water, its coolness sending a shock through her. She put aside her thoughts of snakes and other gruesome creatures that lived there. Instead, she pushed to the surface and clawed at the mud on the other side.