by Terri Reed
Ethan shook his head. “No, Sheriff. I tell you, this isn’t like Maya. And Brady was all riled up this morning about something.”
“Probably the treasure,” Carole stated with a sage nod. “Brady is big into finding the treasure and a new clue was released this morning.”
Alex glanced at his superior, then back to Carole. “But the clue could be anywhere in the Rocky Mountains.”
“True.” She walked over to his desk and sat at the computer, her fingers flying over the keys. “Here. Take a look at this. Mr. Delaney put up a partial map.”
They all huddled around the desk to look at the computer screen.
“That could be Eagle Crest.” Deputy Daniel Rawlings towered over them at nearly six-three and pointed to a spot on the screen.
“Or it could be any number of mountains from Canada to New Mexico,” Kaitlyn pointed out, flipping her blond ponytail over her shoulder. “There’s no way to be sure that’s our Eagle Crest Mountain.”
“Well, whatever the case,” the sheriff said, “we need to do our jobs and make sure our citizens are safe.” He pinned Alex with a hard look. “Find the Gallo siblings.”
Glad to be put in charge, Alex nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Ethan, let me walk you out.” The sheriff gestured for the other man to leave with him.
“Okay, you heard the sheriff,” Alex said. “Kait, get the Gallos’ home address from Carole and see if the Gallos are there. Daniel, you go to the store and check it out. See if there are signs of a struggle or something that will tell us why Maya closed up early.”
“What do you want me to do?” Deputy Chase Fredrick asked. He was the youngest and newest of the deputies. Medium height and lean with sandy-blond hair and dark blue eyes, he had a boyish face hidden by a well-trimmed, close-cropped beard.
“You’re with me,” Alex told him.
“Got it.” Chase went back to his desk to grab his jacket.
“What are you going to do?” Kaitlyn’s hazel eyes filled with concern and curiosity.
Grabbing his jacket and shrugging into it, he said, “If Brady and Maya are out hunting for treasure, they most likely started at the Eagle Crest trailhead.”
* * *
Alex brought his sheriff’s-department-issued SUV to a halt in the parking lot at the lower trailhead of Eagle Crest Mountain. Chase pulled in next to him in an identical SUV. Alex noted five other vehicles in the lot. His gaze zeroed in on a mountain bike in the bike rack near the trailhead kiosk.
Brady’s bike. The teenager had ridden down Main Street this morning. Alex hadn’t thought much about it at the time. Now it made sense. Brady was trying to find the Delaney treasure. The map that had been released this morning, though pretty generic, could arguably have some similarities to the mountain trail ahead of him. Alex climbed out of the SUV and met Chase at the bike rack.
“What now, boss?” Chase asked.
Alex tried not to flinch at the word boss. He wasn’t the boss. He knew there were those in the department and in town looking for Alex to step into the role of sheriff when the old man retired, which he’d been threatening to do for the last three years that Alex had been on the force.
That the sheriff put him in charge of this investigation didn’t mean anything. Sheriff Ryder usually picked one of his deputies to take point.
The sun hung low in the sky. Shading his eyes, Alex gauged they had only a few more hours of daylight left. “We’ll cover more ground on horseback,” he told Chase.
The Bristle County Sheriff’s Department continued the long tradition of patrols on horseback like many Western states. Comprised of both armed deputies and unarmed civilian volunteers, also referred to as auxiliary members, the patrol provided mounted search and rescue as well as mounted community and forest patrols.
“Get on the horn with Carole and round up as many civilian volunteers available. Then run every license plate here. I’m going home to get Truman,” Alex stated, referring to his horse. “I’ll meet you back here in one half hour. Keep an alert eye out for Maya Gallo and her brother. If they come out of the forest, radio me.”
“Will do.” Chase walked away, already using his shoulder radio to contact the station’s dispatcher.
Alex sped home and in the short time it took him to return to the trailhead, towing Truman in the horse trailer, there were three other civilian volunteers with their horses waiting.
“Riley, Trevor.” Alex shook the father’s hand and then the teenage son’s hand. The Howard men were dedicated volunteers. “Thank you for coming.” There was no mistaking the family resemblance between the father and son. They also had identical quarter horses.
Then Alex shook hands with the third volunteer, local dress shop owner, Leslie Quinn, a pretty blonde with blue eyes. Leslie stared at him warily as she stood beside her sturdy paint sporting pink bows tied to its mane. No doubt for the upcoming parade. “Deputy.”
Alex didn’t know the reserved woman well. She tended to keep to herself when they were on patrol. “Leslie, appreciate you joining us.”
Chase hurried over. Alex gave him a questioning look.
“Two local hikers came down the trail but not the Gallo siblings.”
Disappointment shot through Alex and he realized how much he had been hoping to discover Maya and her brother had already descended the trail. “Did the hikers see the Gallos?”
Chase shook his head. “Claimed not to. I took their contact info.”
“All right, listen up, everyone.” Alex explained the situation to the others. “Okay, there are two main paths to take from here. Riley and Trevor—” he gestured to the Howards “—take the Pine Ridge Trail. Miss Quinn and I will take Aspen Creek Trail.”
Alex mounted Truman, a chestnut-colored sixteen-hand Tennessee walking horse, and headed the horse toward the trailhead, where the father and son pair peeled away while Alex and Leslie took the main trail. A half hour later, Alex held up his hand in a fist, signaling for Leslie to stop. Alex slid off Truman to inspect several broken branches on the right side of the trail. It looked as if somebody had gone crashing through the underbrush.
Before he could move farther into the forest, his radio crackled on his shoulder.
“Alex, you better get over here,” Riley’s voice came through the line.
Thumbing the mic attached to his radio, Alex asked, “What did you find?”
“A dead body.”
TWO
Alex drew Truman to a halt alongside Riley’s and Trevor’s horses on the Pine Ridge Trail. Both men stood off the path, staring at something on the ground with grim expressions. In the waning light, Alex could make out the prone figure nestled among the underbrush at the base of the steep rise.
A steel band wrapped around his chest.
Please, Lord, don’t let it be one of the Gallo siblings.
Taking a deep breath, he moved closer and slowly pushed back the branches.
Short hair matted with blood, a navy jacket, jeans and hiking boots. Definitely male.
Not Maya Gallo. Relief washed through him.
After confirming Riley had taken preliminary photos of the scene with his phone, Alex braced himself and slowly rolled the body over.
Definitely not Brady Gallo, either.
Alex blew out another relieved breath. He was pretty sure he knew everyone in Bristle Township and County, at least well enough for a chin nod, and this man was a stranger. He first checked for a pulse to confirm the man was indeed deceased, and then searched the man’s clothing for identification. There was none.
Alex stood and stared upward at the side of the mountain. Had the man been climbing and fell or had someone bashed him over the head and stashed his body behind the bushes? Was there a killer loose in the forest?
Would Alex find one of the Gallos dead?
Dread clamped a hand around his he
art. He hated to contemplate the thought.
He radioed in to let the sheriff know they needed the medical examiner, and then, turning to Trevor and Riley, he said, “Wait here for the sheriff and the ME. I’m going back to the other trail.” He was sure someone had gone through the forest. Maybe Brady or Maya. He had to be thorough in his search.
From her perch on the back of her paint, Leslie took one look at the dead body and gagged. Looking away, she said, “I’ll never get used to that.”
“I’d be worried if you did,” Alex told her. She was an accomplished horsewoman and a hard worker when on patrol but still a civilian. “You go back to the trailhead. I’m returning to the Aspen Creek Trail.”
“You’ll never make the summit before dark,” Leslie told him with worry in her voice.
“I have to check something,” he said. “Let the sheriff know.”
Though concern showed on her face, she nodded. “Be careful.” She turned her horse and moved back down the trail.
Alex urged Truman, as quickly as he dared in the waning light, back to the place where he’d seen evidence that someone had gone off the trail. He dismounted and dropped the reins, letting them hit the ground, a signal for Truman to stay put while Alex made his way through the bushes, following the broken branches and the faint outline of two sets of booted feet.
The dimming daylight plus the canopy of branches overhead made tracking the footsteps difficult, but he didn’t want to break out his flashlight just yet and risk revealing his presence to whoever might be nearby.
A rustling in the bushes a few feet to his left sent his senses on high alert. His heart hammered in his chest. His hand went to his holstered gun. With caution and stealth, he moved slowly forward.
* * *
Fear that her attacker had returned stole Maya’s breath. Praying the bright blue backpack now on her back wouldn’t be a beacon to her location, she hunkered down in the bushes and tightened her fingers around the tree branch gripped between her hands. She kept her head low and prayed for protection.
After she’d hidden behind the tree trunk, she’d heard the assailant crashing about the woods, mumbling and cursing to himself. Then he moved south, back toward the trailhead, no doubt thinking she’d headed in that direction.
She’d started to make her way back to the path when she had heard heavy footsteps coming her way. She’d taken cover here in these bramble bushes.
The woods had gone silent.
Daring to peek out from behind the bushes, her gaze landed first on a pair of dark boots standing on the other side of the shrub she’d hidden behind.
“Come out with your hands up,” a deep, familiar voice commanded.
Deputy Alex Trevino.
This wasn’t her attacker. This was her rescuer. God had answered her prayers. Though why he’d send Alex, of all people, she couldn’t fathom. Wasn’t Kaitlyn available?
Shaking her head at her own idiotic thoughts—who was she to complain about how God answered her prayer—she slowly rose and stepped out from behind the bushes. “Alex.”
He quickly holstered his drawn weapon, for which she was thankful.
He hurried to her side. “Maya? Are you okay?” He gripped her shoulders, visually searching her, his gaze warm and concerned.
She let go of the stick she’d expected to use as a weapon and hugged her arms around her middle as a measure of relief ebbed through her veins. She could only imagine how frightful she must look considering her trek through the woods. And why that should even matter she didn’t know. The only thing that mattered was her brother. “I’m fine. But Brady...” She swallowed back the bile of fear burning her throat.
“What happened to your brother?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t return when he was supposed to this afternoon. I got worried so I came out here. I found his backpack.” She hitched the straps higher on her shoulders. “Someone attacked me from behind, but I escaped and whoever it was chased me into the woods.” She shuddered as the memory flooded her mind.
Alex cupped her elbow and started her walking back toward the trail. A sense of safety and well-being blanketed her, allowing the constriction in her chest to ease a bit.
“Did you get a look at your attacker’s face?”
She shook her head with regret. “No. I think it was a man.” She shrugged. “He had on a hoodie and a weird mask. But he had cold dark eyes.” A shiver slid over her skin. “I’m pretty sure he went south so I waited until I thought the coast was clear. I was working my way back to the trail when I heard you.” She grasped his arm. “We have to find Brady.”
“We will,” he assured her in a voice full of confidence.
She hoped he was right and that Brady was uninjured. What if the maniac who’d attacked her attacked Brady? Brady wouldn’t know how to defend himself. Worry for her brother ate at her, making her limbs shake.
Alex helped her over a root. “We found a deceased man on Pine Ridge Trail.”
She sucked in a sharp breath as panic whirled through her like a tornado. But he’d asked about Brady, so it couldn’t be her brother, could it?
Her thoughts must have shown on her face because Alex threaded his fingers through hers. “It’s not your brother.”
“The man who attacked me?”
“Maybe.” Alex’s voice held a grim note. “Hard to know if you can’t identify your assailant.”
“But who killed him?” None of this made sense. First, she was attacked for no apparent reason and now, her assailant could be dead.
What about Brady? Where was he?
They emerged out of the thick forest onto the trail where Alex’s beautiful horse, Truman, waited. Alex quickly stepped into the stirrup and hoisted himself into the saddle, then reached for her. She grasped his larger hand and let him lift her off the ground. She swung a leg over the back of the horse and settled behind Alex on the horse’s back.
“Set your feet on the back of my calves,” he told her.
She did but wasn’t sure what to do with her hands. She lightly placed them on his waist. With sure movement, he clasped her hands and drew them forward so that her arms wrapped around his middle.
Awareness zipped along her veins. She felt secure and cared for as she hung onto him. The scent of his aftershave mingled with the earthy forest and horseflesh, and teased her senses, making her realize how long it had been since she’d allowed anyone, besides Brady, this close.
If the circumstances were different, she’d have been embarrassed by the close contact. But the situation had her stomach tied up in knots and with every step the animal took, she hurt knowing she was possibly moving farther away from her brother.
Alex kept the horse moving at a slow pace because the forest was now shrouded in darkness. With a flashlight held in one hand, he illuminated the trail. They had gone several hundred feet when Truman neighed loudly and reared back.
“Whoa, there.” Alex expertly controlled the horse. Maya shifted, trying to see what had caused the animal to spook.
Someone careened out of the branches of the tree above them, slamming into her, causing her to loosen her hold on Alex and forcing her off the horse. She hit the ground hard on her shoulder, a fiery pain exploded at the point of contact and radiated down her arm.
Her assailant landed on his feet like a ninja from a movie and grabbed her by the backpack, dragging her toward the forest. Hoping to make it more difficult for him, she went limp. The blinding light of Alex’s flashlight shone on them.
“Halt,” Alex yelled as he jumped off Truman with his weapon drawn and aimed at the man’s chest.
Her assailant let go of her and raced into the inky woods as if snapping dogs were at his heels.
Holstering his weapon, Alex crouched down beside Maya. “Are you hurt?”
“Not sure.” She tried to sit up. Agony ripped through her shoul
der. She cried out.
“Don’t move.” Alex stared at the forest and back at her, clearly torn between chasing after the assailant and taking care of her. She wanted to tell him to go find the maniac. But she didn’t want to be left here on the ground alone, either. And she desperately wanted his help finding Brady.
Clearly deciding she was the priority, to which she breathed a sigh of relief, he used his shoulder-mounted radio to call in the situation before he positioned himself behind her to ease her into a sitting position. She gritted her teeth as the movement jostled her injured shoulder. He slipped the backpack down her arms with gentle hands and put it on himself.
“I’m going to lift you and put you into the saddle,” he said. “Do you think you can handle that?”
Grateful for his kindness she nodded. “Yes. I can do that.” And she would bear the pain no matter how much her shoulder hurt.
Coming around to her uninjured side, he wedged one arm under her bent knees and slipped his other arm around her waist. With apparent ease, he lifted her into his arms and stood. She’d always thought he looked strong, now she knew for sure. She wasn’t a tiny woman, measuring five feet seven inches with a figure that could be called curvy, but he didn’t seem the least bit exerted in holding her.
She couldn’t help but notice the five o’clock shadow on his strong jaw and the way his dark brown hair curled at the ends. He really was attractive. She’d noticed before but now... She met his warm brown gaze and a blush heated her cheeks. “I’m sorry you have to do this.”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “I’m not.”
What did that mean? She didn’t have time to contemplate his words as he lifted her so she could sit in the saddle. At well over six feet tall, he had no trouble placing her on the horse. Thankfully, she could grasp the saddle horn with her right hand while keeping her left arm bent close to her middle and as immobile as possible.
This time he sat behind the saddle’s cantle, mounting with easy grace. One of his arms slid around her waist holding on to her while he held on to the reins with his other hand.
