by Avery Flynn
“You have two minutes to get some clothes on. I'll meet you at my cruiser.”
Chapter Sixteen
The darkness of the car trunk threatened to eat Josie up—or was that the anxiety talking?
“Get ahold of yourself, Winarsky. You're in a world of shit, yes, but that doesn't mean you don't have options.”
Boxes and trash poked her on all sides. Something lay jammed underneath her rib cage. The trunk was a pit, there had to be a weapon in here somewhere. If she could just get her fingers wrapped around a tire iron or socket wrench, she wouldn't feel so helpless. Hopeless.
Josie pushed her legs out and arched her back. There wasn't enough room in the small, dark compartment to move more than an inch or two, but she managed to sweep her left hand across the floor, searching for anything she could use as a weapon. When Snips popped the lid, he'd be in for one hell of a surprise.
A square of plastic glowed above her. Outlined on it was the image of an open trunk.
An emergency release.
Escape!
Josie grabbed the corner, ready to yank, when the car veered off the smooth road and onto one so bumpy it bounced her off the floor and she banged her head on the trunk lid.
The car slowed.
Her blood pressure went up.
Frantic, she abandoned the escape release for the floor. Her fingers curled around something long and heavy with a cylindrical head. Socket wrench.
She clenched her jaw and began psyching herself up for Snips to open the trunk.
Another rut in the road sent the car jumping up again, but it kept bounding along. Figuring it was now or never, Josie yanked on the glowing square.
The trunk lid flew open.
Dawn's pink glow filled the sky, illuminating the empty countryside.
Sucking in a deep breath, Josie raised her arms to cover her head and rolled out of the trunk. All the air in her lungs vacated as soon as she landed with a thump on the dirt road.
The car kept moving.
She scrambled up, ignoring the blinding pain in her side, and stumbled to a copse of trees by an abandoned farmhouse. Rocks bit into her knees as she rested her forehead against scratchy bark, gulping in air and wondering how much time she had until Snips figured out she'd escaped.
Minutes. If she was lucky.
Her gaze followed her footprints between the road and her hiding spot. A dead giveaway. Careful as she could, she tiptoed in her tracks back to the road. The crusty top layer of snow stuck to her clammy palms when she tried to brush away evidence of her location. But the formerly powder snow had hardened during the cold night, making the top layer as brittle as the crust on a crème brûlée.
She searched the area but everywhere she looked, the light gleamed off the icy covering. Despite the cold, a bead of sweat rolled down the back of her neck.
That's when she saw it. Under the trees, the snow had piled up into a small mound, no doubt pushed by the winds that never ceased to blow.
Josie negotiated her way back to the trees as quickly as she could while not making any new footprints, gathered an armful of snow and scurried back to the road. She packed the fresh snow into the indentations left by her boots, smoothing it as best she could, and working her way backwards until the evergreens blocked her from the road.
Her breath hovered in the air as she panted. She rubbed away the goose bumps that had grown into goose mountains on her arms and tried to formulate a plan.
At the rumble of a car's engine, her first instinct was to spring from her hiding spot and wave down the motorist. She caught herself just in time. Peeking through the branches, she watched a sedan with Nevada plates crawl down the dirt road.
Blood roared in her ears and she double-checked the job she'd done with the snow. Dread squeezed her throat closed. Quarter-sized drops of red spotted the path between where she'd landed in the road and the tree line. She wiped her hand across her lower back where the trunk had snagged her skin and stared down at red-tipped fingers. The cold and her own panic had blunted the pain, but hadn't stopped the bleeding.
The black vehicle continued forward. Too late. Nothing she could do but cross her fingers and hope.
Josie squeezed her legs close to her chest, wrapping her arms around her shins.
The engine's purr was practically next to her now.
She clenched her eyes shut and buried her face between her knees.
“Josie girl, we're going to find you.” The wind carried Snips’ taunting call across the frozen fields and giant snowflakes fell from the sky.
Every nerve in her body screamed at her to push away from the tree's rough bark and run. To sprint to safety.
But there was no haven out here, only flat, snowy land until McPherson's Bluff rose straight and tall from the plains half a mile away—or the decrepit farmhouse ten yards ahead.
Muscles tensed, she waited. Trapped.
Just when she thought she couldn't take it anymore, the motor of Snips’ car faded away.
Too freaked out to be relieved, she forced herself to count to one hundred to make sure they'd gone before hurrying to the farmhouse to assess her options in a more protected area.
Someone had nailed two-by-fours across the windows and doorway. She yanked at the boards covering the door until one finally gave way, providing just enough room for her to crawl through. Dirt and trash covered the floor. Twigs and bits of debris formed what looked like a nest inside the hearth. She scanned the room for occupants. The last thing she needed was a rabid animal thinking she'd invaded its turf. Finding nothing, Josie sank to the floor, wanting nothing more in the world than to fall apart.
She ground her teeth together, determined to stave off anxious tears. Fuck this. If there was any time to reach down deep and proudly wear her pair of brass balls, this was it. She inhaled a deep breath of frigid air and let it out in a huff.
Better. She could do this.
Sam clicked his seat belt and clutched Josie's new, Nebraska-winter-worthy coat in his lap. No doubt she'd be freezing once they found her.
The snowfall had gained intensity in the ten minutes he and Hank had been on the road. Wind pushed against the cruiser and swirled the quarter-inch of snow covering the asphalt. McPherson's Bluff towered over the prairie, an optical illusion making is seem just around the bend when in reality it was a good fifteen miles away.
“So Chris tells me Josie is a waitress in Vegas.”
“Yes. She's a painter too.”
“Any good?”
Guilt sucker-punched him in the kidneys. “I don't know, I haven't seen any of her paintings.” He'd spent so much time questioning her motives or trying to get into her pants, he hadn't bothered to find out more about the one thing that really mattered to her.
You're a real asshole, Layton.
“So should we try the east or west entrance to the bluff?”
“Neither, we have to start at the beginning. They took both maps. I marked the regional map with the possible beginnings. They have to know the starting point is either Rebecca's first homestead or the McNerny boarding house.”
Hank gave him a hearty dose of side eye. “Dial that back, professor, and talk to me like I don't live this crap every day.”
“Sorry. Snips is after Rebecca's Bounty. That's why my office was trashed this week. He told Josie that if she finds the treasure for him, he'll forget he wants to turn her brother over to some mob boss.”
Hank's mouth gaped open, but he kept his eyes on the ever-worsening road. When he didn't say anything, Sam shrugged and continued.
“Josie was given Rebecca's diary. Inside the back cover was a map to the treasure. The key to finding it is knowing the correct place to start, homestead or boarding house.”
“So which is it?” Hank rolled to a stop at a T in the road.
Go left to the west side of the bluff and Rebecca's first homestead. Go right to the east side of the bluff and the McNerny boarding house. He had a fifty-fifty chance of getting it right, if he wa
s correct about Snips’ determination to get the treasure. With Josie's life on the line, he had to be.
“Turn left.” The sky had turned white and visibility had gone from so-so to downright concerning. They were the only vehicle on the two-lane highway. “Thanks for doing this, Hank.”
“Better than just taking off, which you would have done about ten minutes after I'd left you alone.”
“True.”
“At least this way if we get stranded in the middle of a snowstorm, Mom won't kill me for letting you go off on your own.”
“You'd think we were still kids the way she mother-bears us.”
“Yeah, I think we're forever twelve to her.”
Sam couldn't help but wince at the mention of being twelve, especially with McPherson's Bluff taking up a big portion of the real estate in front of the windshield.
Ever observant, Hank didn't miss a thing. “Shit, Sam. I'm sorry.”
“I think it's time we moved beyond that—way past time when I need to do that.”
He rubbed the fleece lining of Josie's electric-blue coat between his thumb and finger. They'd find her and then he'd find the words to tell her everything. He couldn't promise forever, but he sure could do a damn sight better about the here and the now.
Despite the weather conditions, Hank made good time, turning onto Rural Route Fourteen without having to sacrifice much in terms of speed for the dirt road. The cruiser's shocks absorbed most of the beating from the rough surface. Three miles in and they were almost to the trees Rebecca had used as a windbreak for her new home.
There wasn't much left of Rebecca's original homestead, but five years ago the Dry Creek Historical Society had started to build a replica of the one-room farmhouse. They'd gotten about halfway through the building process when funds ran out, the economy tanked and donations dried up. The abandoned building stood alone just off the road.
He searched the road ahead for tire tracks, but the fresh layer of snow, now at least a half-inch thick, covered any sign of previous traffic.
“Pull over by the trees.”
Hank put the car in park. “Okay, we treat this as a possible crime scene. You stay behind me and if I tell you to get back to the car, you get the fuck back. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
The frigid air slapped Sam in the face as soon as he climbed out of the cruiser, chapping his cheeks. Josie would be freezing out here in just jeans and a T-shirt. He could still feel the soft cotton under his fingers. Had that only been a few hours ago? God, it seemed like forever.
He fell in line behind Hank, who crept toward the white clapboard house with his gun drawn.
Wind whipped across the open field, blowing flakes and making the house seem more like a mirage than a reality.
Adrenaline-spiked blood pumped at hyper-speed through Sam’s system and despite the cold, the small of his back grew damp with sweat.
Josie's fingers had turned white from the cold without gloves or coat pockets to protect them. She rubbed them together, pain pricking down their lengths as the blood returned. Outside the snowfall grew denser.
Once frostbite stopped being an immediate concern, she took inventory. One socket wrench. Her car keys. The pay-as-you-go cellphone Cy had given her. She flipped it open. No bars. Of course not, that would have made getting the hell out of here too damn easy.
She stood and extended the arm holding the phone high above her head the circled the room. In the corner closest to the animal nest, one of the bars flickered to life, then went dark. Willing circumstances to change, Josie crossed the room. No luck.
The phone snapped closed with a click and she slid it into her back pocket. She hunkered down by her other weapons. She balanced the socket wrench in her hand. Heavy, solid. It felt good. That would add some umph to her right hook.
Feet crunched on the icy snow outside of the boarded-up window.
As soundlessly as she could, she backed into a dark corner, gripping her makeshift weapons in each hand. Predator or rescuer, one wrong move and he was going to get a mouth full of metal.
Gloved fingers wrapped around a board blocking up the door and yanked it free.
They were within two feet of the front door when a high-pitched cry broke the silence and a blur of light gray burst from the homestead's front door.
The coyote ran serpentine around Sam and Hank before breaking into a straight run across the flat land and disappearing into the snow.
Hank recovered first and started back toward the house. He disappeared inside the doorway and returned a moment later, his eyes downcast.
Fear bristled along Sam’s spine. Were they too late? He sprinted to the door and pushed past Hank.
His gaze traveled the darkened expanse of the room, searching each shadow for Josie's bright platinum curls.
Nothing.
Dread filled him and threatened to knock him to his knees. Damn Rebecca and her treasure.
There is a beauty to this hard land more valuable than treasure, but for those who insist, I give you this, she'd written.
Sam stumbled outside and into the vast shadow of McPherson's Bluff. Oh yes, it was beautiful in the same way a cobra about to strike could be breathtaking.
He tried to hold on to hope, to the belief that this time he would be able to save a life. He pushed away the doubts, but like a spurned, angry lover, they refused to leave.
Hank clapped a hand on Sam's shoulder, displacing some of the snow piled there. “Don't worry, we'll find her.”
But would they? And if so, would they be in time?
Chapter Seventeen
Well, Josie girl, I told you we'd find you.” Snips stepped through the gap between boards nailed across the empty door. “And to think we found you right where we wanted to stop in the first place. I told you we went too far, Linc.”
A shadow moved in front of the partially boarded-up doorway, which Josie assumed belonged to Linc. The muscle man must be too big to fit through the opening. Who would have thought the big man's size would finally work to her advantage?
She gripped the socket wrench tight in her left hand, held at an angle behind her back. She curled her right hand into a fist and rested it against her thigh. Surprise would only be on her side once and she'd need it to knock out Snips. The steroids had shrunk his balls but they'd also pumped up his muscles and temper. Of course with the amount of pissed-off adrenaline pumping through her veins, she figured she still had the upper hand. She'd flatten him. Then she'd have to get past Linc in the doorway, which wasn’t as likely to be successful unless she timed it just right.
“What, no smart remark this time?” Snips strutted closer.
Josie barely kept the instinct to swing wildly at him in check. Like a poker player, she needed to stay calm, keep emotion out of it and wait for the perfect time to make her move.
“I think I like you better now that you've finally shut the fuck up. You ready to play ball?” He was almost within reach now.
Just another step closer.
He stopped and raised an eyebrow. “Whatever you're cookin', Josie girl, you better just give it up.” His left hand whipped out and he backhanded her across the cheek.
The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth.
“That should make sure you keep your smart mouth shut.”
Josie spit the mouthful of blood to the floor, splattering Snips' snow-covered boots. “Not even close.”
She smacked the smirk off his face with an uppercut to the jaw with her right fist, followed by a haymaker utilizing the socket wrench in her left. The silver cylinder cracked against Snips' jaw and he went down hard.
“Mr. Esposito, you okay in there?” Linc peered through the slits between the boards. “What's going on in there?”
Snips moaned out an unintelligible response.
Linc wrapped his meaty fingers around a two-by-four and yanked.
Blackness ate into the edges of Josie's line of sight and she couldn't catch her breath.
A chunk
of sky appeared in the doorway and Linc reached for the next board. Two more and he'd be able to squeeze in.
Motivated by a desperate need to live another day, she patted down Snips' pants, looking for a gun, a knife, anything. She came up empty.
Another board hit the floor.
Her blood pressure spiked.
Josie sprinted to the hearth and gathered as much dirt and twigs from the animal nest as she could. She made it back to the doorway a half second after Linc tore the last board from the wall.
Without giving herself time to doubt, she tossed the debris in Linc's face.
He cried out in shock and slapped his hands to his eyes.
Before he had a chance to wipe the grime away, Josie took off out the front door. Her boots slapped across the porch and down the creaky steps. The world was awash in white, making it impossible to tell which way led back to Dry Creek and which farther into the sticks. She hit the snow-covered ground, cranked up her speed and shot toward McPherson's Bluff.
“You better find a damn good hiding place, girlie,” Snips shouted. “Because when I find you, you're going to pay with that pretty ass of yours.”
Josie heeded his warning and ran. The air burned her lungs from the inside out and every snap of frigid wind against her bare arms reminded her of just how long she'd been out in the elements without a coat or gloves. The pain beat being dead.
In better conditions and with actual running shoes, she'd clear the half mile to McPherson's Bluff in about five minutes. But with every step, her boots sank in the snow. The wind and snow picked up, bringing visibility to a few feet beyond arm's reach. Her chattering teeth had overtaken the wind's howl in the noise contest. After a few minutes, she wasn't so sure she wouldn't be better off numb.
But she tucked her chin into her chest and pushed forward. Every few steps, she glanced over her shoulder to see if Snips and Linc were on her trail. She couldn't see them or the abandoned house anymore. However, her danger detector hadn't stopped blaring a warning siren, so she continued with one foot in front of the other until she came to the bluff's base.
