“We’ll leave a sorry note.” She snickered as Evan winked and led her around back. “Wow.” Old smells of fish and animals had been left behind, along with something rancid and musty. “This is nasty. A man’s cabin.”
“Hey,” Evan protested teasingly. “You’re right. Total hunter’s cabin.”
The small cabin was comprised of an open kitchen, eating area and living room. One bathroom. One bedroom. “There are more deer heads and antlers than one person should ever see hanging on a wall in their lifetime. Not to mention mounted fish and dark green plaids.” Jody shuddered.
“Well, it’s better than hunkering down in the elements tonight. I don’t think starting a fire is wise.”
“I’m kinda over fire right now anyway.” She groaned and laughed as she opened her backpack. One set of dry clothes in a waterproof bag. Unsure of how many days they had left of rugged living, she decided not to change. Instead, she excused herself to the bathroom to freshen up with the toothpaste and deodorant she’d packed them. Some days her obsessive sense of organizing paid off.
They had a few packs of dehydrated meals, snacks and a couple cans of soup and beanie weenies. At some point they needed to get to that ranger’s station or to a road where they could hitch a ride into the nearest town and get a hotel room or a pick up from Wilder. He was probably going out of his mind.
“Jo?”
“Yeah,” she hollered from the small bathroom.
“I found a rifle. Guess what I’m thinking?”
“That we should shoot everyone in our path and haul it to civilization and safety? And then order a pizza?” She was starving for Italian sausage and layers of mozzarella.
Evan laughed from the other side of the door. “I was thinking rabbit or squirrel. I found a generator, too. We have power.”
“Good deal on the power, but it’s illegal to shoot animals—even for food—in a state park.”
“Not all parks.”
Yeah, well, they had no way of knowing if this was one of them. “But some.”
“Beanie weenies in a can it is. But when we leave, I’m taking this gun and the two hunting knives in the drawer.”
“We’ll add it to our sorry list.” Jody checked the wound Evan had stitched. Her thigh was swollen and red but it didn’t appear fevered or infected. Yet. She opened the door. Evan stood close. Looking every bit the rugged mountain man—the kind in commercials, not in backwoods movies.
“What?” he asked.
Busted admiring him. “You smell.”
His sly grin tipped her heart on its side. “It’s called masculinity.”
It took her a moment to find her voice. “It’s called sweat and two days of not showering.” Granted, he did have an earthy smell running along his skin, but he wasn’t ripe. But she needed some distance. “So steer clear of me.”
“Mmm-hmm...no promises.”
He blocked her path, his hands resting on the lintel of the door as he held her gaze. He didn’t believe a word she was saying. “Don’t get cocky. It doesn’t suit you.” But it so did.
“Again...” His voice turned husky. “No promises.”
Why did that look, that smirk, that voice send her for a loop even after all this time? Ducking under his arm, she slipped into the living area. He entered the bathroom and shut the door. When he came out he smelled like fresh deodorant, the cleaning wipes from their backpacks and pretty much irresistible. Jody found her vapor rub and swiped it under her nose. He wasn’t fighting fair.
Or maybe Jody was warring with herself. Fighting the attraction and feelings.
“Do you think the authorities have figured out Wilder owns a cabin and have checked it?” Jody asked.
“I haven’t heard helicopters. If they found it burned down they’d suspect foul play. They’d bring choppers or drones. We’ll have to keep our eyes peeled.” He opened up a couple of cans of beans and hot dogs, then dug around in the cabinets for a bowl. After wiping it out, he dumped in the contents and slid it into an ancient microwave.
It beeped and Evan brought the bowl and two forks to the table. “Bon appétit.”
Jody snorted and they shared the bowl. Like they had many times—only it wasn’t beanie weenies. “Once we find the ranger’s station and get Wilder’s help, have you thought about that boat idea?”
Evan toyed with his fork. “I don’t know, Jo. I’m going to ask Wilder to get me a new laptop, and maybe I’ll hole up in Mexico. Work until I can figure out who Lawman1 is and how I can take him down and prove my innocence. If I could get his hard drive, get his private emails, then I’d have him. But he could be anyone. He could live anywhere in the world. And I still can’t make myself believe that anyone in my field office—on my task force—is behind this. Clive Bevin doesn’t have the technical ability—”
“If you only have to download the browser and the software that keeps you anonymous and untraceable, then all he’d need is to private message Lawman1. What other technical ability would he need?”
Evan’s mouth formed a hard, grim line, and he put his fork down and pushed the bowl toward Jody. “None. But Clive? Terry? Any of them? I wish we could call Wheezer and see what he’s found on them financially. No one is rich in this profession but some are further in debt than others, and the offer of money in exchange for information could be tempting.”
“Anyone have a new car? New purchases that would stand out?” Jody asked, and picked through the beans for the hot dogs.
“No.” But anyone with half a brain would know to keep that on the down low. “We should probably turn in early so we can start before first light.”
Jody agreed, but there was no way she was going to get a good night’s rest. Not when there was a killer or killers on the hunt for Evan. Not when her brain and heart were playing a terrible game of chicken. They were going to collide, and Jody was going to be wrecked.
Again.
NINE
Evan slowed his pace. Jody was trying to cover her limp, but the leg injury from yesterday wasn’t cooperating. His stitch job wasn’t fantastic, either, but once they made it to civilization they could have it checked.
It was after two o’clock. He and Jody had slept in. The secluded cabin had given them a measure of security and they’d needed the rest. Evan had taken the threadbare couch and Jody had slept on the twin bed in the only bedroom.
An hour ago, they’d stumbled upon the Chattahoochee River and Evan couldn’t help it; he’d hummed the old country song, trying to lighten the mood. While the sun was bright and full, the wind was strong, especially near the river. Their hiking had kept their body temperatures up but it was cold. In the thirties, if he had to guess. With the shade from the forest it felt like it was in the twenties.
Following the current, Evan hoped they’d reach a ranger’s station by nightfall. They didn’t have proper shelter for another night in the elements and they hadn’t seen a cabin since they’d left the one earlier today. Jody hadn’t spoken much. Probably concentrating on her footsteps. And if he knew her well, which he did, she was formulating ideas on how to convince him to hitch a boat to the water and brave the sea for a while—and how to convince him to let her join him.
His stomach rumbled. They hadn’t eaten much—trying to conserve. “Jo, how’s the leg?”
“Working,” she said in a clipped tone. Was she angry or concentrating? Probably irritable from uncomfortable sleep arrangements and her leg.
“You think we can—”
The sound of something whizzing right above his shoulder stopped his statement. Two feet in front of him he spotted what it was.
An arrow.
Jody gawked at the arrow, then at Evan and to the trees behind him. “Is that—”
Fwoop!
Another arrow.
Evan yanked Jody up the bank into the cover of trees.
“Are—are we being hunted like animals?” Jody whispered.
“Appears so.” Evan scanned the area. Couldn’t make out where the hunter might be. The arrows looked expensive. Well made. “We have to haul it. Can you run?”
“Do I have a choice?” She frowned and darted a glance behind Evan. “Go first. I’m right behind you.”
This again. “I don’t think so. You’re wounded. You need cover and this guy is probably already moving in on us as we speak. Now. Go.” God, be with us. “Right through that thicket of trees. We can use them as shields.”
Another arrowed pierced the tree an inch above Jody’s head. Missed shot? Or was the marksman aiming for her? If so, why?
Jody yanked it from the tree and dashed ahead, clutching the arrow and moving pretty fast for someone with an injured leg. Evan tore off after her.
Tree limbs with bare, sharp twigs caught his shirt, ripping it and stabbing into his flesh, but he pressed on. The only sounds were their breathing and the crunching of brush under their feet.
Another arrow flew, barely missing Jody.
He might be a hunter. The woods would be his friend. Evan’s pulse thumped in his temples. They couldn’t stay in the forest and lose the killer.
Ten feet out the trees opened up to the riverbank. The waters churned violently, the current strong. Jagged rocks jutted to the surface, dark and slick.
How many killers were out in these woods?
Evan’s insides constricted and nausea nipped at the back of this throat, his gut churning like the waters before him.
Jody’s eyes were wide. Her body shaking. “We have no choice, Evan.”
Evan eyed the river. “No way. It’s freezing. The current’s powerful. We might not survive.” The distance to the other side might as well be three hundred feet in this weather.
“We’ll most certainly die if we go back into the woods. He’ll track us. Like animals.”
An arrow soared through the air, barely missing Jody. Jody again? “Okay.” Every nerve in Evan’s body burned and jackhammered inside him. He clicked his backpack straps across his chest so he wouldn’t lose it in the river.
Jody was running for the banks and plunging into the icy waters. Evan followed as an arrow hit his backpack.
Oh, God, help us! Evan jumped in, the freezing river water shocking his system, sucking away his breath. The current pulled him under and he fought to the surface for oxygen, searching for Jody, but the river took him hostage again, ravaging him and hurtling him downstream at a fast and furious pace.
“Ev!”
Jody’s voice!
He slammed into a rock, jarring his ribs. Fire blazed through his bones as spots danced before his eyes, but he used all he had to fight going under and downriver.
They had to get across.
Now.
Up ahead, Jody clung to a boulder jutting from the river. “Give me your hand!” she called. Water sloshed over her head, matting her hair to her face, but she held on with one arm, the other outstretched.
Evan kicked his legs and prayed. If he could just get to her...
He neared her.
He had one opportunity to grab on.
What if he pulled her off and they both went to a watery grave?
Could he risk it?
“Don’t you even think it!” she hollered. The woman had an uncanny ability to read his thoughts. “Grab my hand!”
Evan channeled all his strength and propelled himself toward her.
Now or never.
He stretched out his hand and she gripped it like iron, but the current was strong and tried to separate them.
“Don’t you let go, Evan Anthony Novak!”
Jody’s hand was slipping off the rock.
“I can’t risk—” water raced over his head “—you drowning.”
“Then get up here!” she screamed as if he was still a recruit in boot camp.
He swung his free hand up and over, clutching a jagged piece of the boulder, and hoisted himself next to Jody. “Thank you,” he said, his voice weak and hoarse, his teeth chattering. Jody’s lips were blue and quivering.
A long tree branch hung over the raging water about five feet away on the other side. If they could find a way to get to it, they could shimmy onto the branch and jump to shore. The current had ushered them downriver at a wild pace. They had time to try to figure it out. But it wouldn’t be long before the bow hunter made it to them.
“Get...get...in-inside my pack,” Jody said through shivers and chattering teeth. “I have...a rope. Gonna swing it onto...onto...the branch...over...there.”
A rope. Score!
He could kiss her. He hadn’t made any promises he wouldn’t.
* * *
Jody shifted in the water to give Evan access to her backpack. He clung with one hand and opened the backpack with the other. Water rushed inside it, robbing them of food packs. Using his arm, he lifted himself and the backpack farther out of the water. He found the rope and shoved it between his teeth while he used his free hand to zip the pack back up.
Climbing to the top of the rock, his foot slipped.
He was returned to the freezing river, but he caught the rock’s edge and Jody clung to his hand.
Once again he tried to climb, the water racing over his boots keeping him off balance.
He had to get that rope over the branch with enough force it would swing around and around the limb, securing it for their weight.
Grunting, he swung it like a lasso to gain momentum.
God, let it be enough.
Like David with a sling and a few rocks, Evan aimed and launched the rope over the branch; it looped over once...twice...a third time.
Yes! Thank You, God!
He glanced down. “Jo, you making it, hon?”
Her nod was weak.
“Up you go, then.” He held out his hand for her. With an injured thigh and ankle, her footing would be wobbly at best. “Clasp the rope and swing over to the bank, then toss it back to me.”
Jody grabbed the rope and peered into his eyes, lips quivering. “My legs...feel...like lead.”
“I know. But you can do this and I’ll meet you on the other side.” And then they could figure out what in the world to do to raise their body temperatures. “You want a push?”
She shook her head. Of course not. This was the bravest woman he’d ever met. She’d muster the strength. Draw it out from deep within. “Jo, I know you’re not happy with God right now, but you should pray.”
She met his eyes—could be water, could be tears—but she actually nodded and muttered a prayer for help across, and then she sprung off the rock and swung like Jane in a Tarzan movie. Her landing wasn’t as powerful, but she’d reached the shore.
And she’d prayed to God. That alone gave him the strength he needed.
She reared back and thrust the rope back across; Evan barely grabbed it, wound it around his hands and pushed off the rock.
Halfway across, the rope slipped loose.
He plunged into the water.
Two feet shy of the rock that could help him the rest of the way.
* * *
Jody watched in horror as the driving current hurled Evan away. She jumped to her leaden feet and raced down the bank—the fire in her thigh searing into her bones while the wintry chill left goose bumps in its wake.
“Evan! Hold on! I got you!” Vain words. He was rushing downriver and she was barely keeping up with him. There had to be a way to reach him. To save him!
God.
God could help her. If He could part the Red Sea and the Jordan River, He could surely save Evan from the Chattahoochee!
Did she trust Him to?
When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee.
The verse struck her so powerfully it might as well have been God’s audible voice.
He was here.
Near.
Hadn’t left her.
Hadn’t forsaken her.
Tears sprang to her eyes as she barreled down the banks. The hard crust over her heart melted like it had been exposed to a summer day. Up ahead, Evan bobbed in the water. Under. Surfaced. Under again... Repeat... He was fighting.
The feeling of God right beside her moved her faster, farther.
God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.
The psalm sprang inside like a fever. “Oh, God, we need You. I need You. Evan needs You.” She wasn’t quite the protector she believed herself to be. She didn’t have the power to always rescue. But He did.
Evan spiraled so far down the river she feared she’d lose sight of him.
Lose him.
The reality that he could die and she’d never see him again, never be able to voice what he wanted to hear—that she forgave him—fueled another dose of adrenaline as she dashed down the bank, scanning the area for something to help him.
The minute she’d called on God, the bitterness dissolved. Like Moses throwing the branch into bitter water and making it sweet. She had been like that branch. Soaked in God’s grace and forgiveness, and now she had the strength to admit she forgave Evan.
But she needed to be able to tell him.
Up ahead lay a long dead limb. If she could thrust it in the water, he might be able to grab on and she could pull him safely to shore. “Evan, try to get closer to me.” She drove harder. Her leg didn’t protest, as if God Himself was giving her the power and strength to race against time.
She grabbed the heavy limb. God, give me strength. She thrust it into the river and Evan’s arms moved, pumping himself toward her. He wouldn’t be able to take the freezing waters for long before everything shut down.
Jody held the branch, her heart racing. Come on. Come on.
The waters jerked him under.
Held him.
Secret Service Setup Page 11
