Mountain Investigation

by Cindi Myers

  “You’re bleeding.” He put a hand to her cheek, which was wet with blood.

  She put her hand over his, then probed the spot. “It’s not a bullet,” she said. “Just a piece of rock, I think.”

  He dug out his handkerchief and pressed it over the wound. “Hold that there,” he said. “Press down to stop the bleeding.”

  “You’re bossy when there’s danger.” But she said the words with a hint of a smile. He wanted to pull her close, but forced his attention back to the sniper. Whoever was up there hadn’t fired for a while. Was he repositioning to get closer? Would he try to come up behind them?

  “What’s he doing up there?” Audra asked.

  “I can’t tell.” Should he try to draw the shooter’s fire? Carefully, he picked up a rock and tossed it into the bushes about six feet away. Nothing. Their assailant wasn’t falling for that trick.

  He kept his gaze fixed on the spot the shooter had been firing from, but could detect no movement. The spot was too far away for him to have any hope of hitting the guy with a pistol. He should save his ammunition in case the sniper moved in closer. But Hud needed to know the shooter’s position. Taking aim at a spot just below the ledge, he fired. A puff of dust marked his shot, but only silence answered.

  “Maybe he’s gone,” Audra said.

  Or maybe he was moving closer. Moving in for the kill.

  Hud considered his options. The cruiser was parked on the road, about two hundred yards away, across open ground. There were a couple of piles of boulders between here and there that offered some shelter, and his body armor gave him a better chance of surviving a hit, provided it wasn’t a head shot. But that would mean leaving Audra alone here, where she was possibly more vulnerable.

  In the car he had a rifle, a shotgun and a Taser, plus more ammunition. And water—he was conscious of being very thirsty. The sun beat down on the rock, radiating heat. They couldn’t stay here too many hours before they might be in real trouble. The rifle would even the odds a little if he could retrieve it. He also had a radio that might or might not enable him to call for help, depending on how well the repeater system worked here. When he was here with other members of the Rangers before, it hadn’t worked at all.

  They could wait awhile and hope someone else came along—but that wasn’t very likely. The Rangers all had assigned duties, none of which would bring them to this remote location today, and this wasn’t a place tourists were likely to wander.

  “How long do we just sit here?” Audra asked.

  “A little longer,” he said. “Listen for anyone moving around up there.” Even the stealthiest person was bound to scrape a foot in the loose gravel at some point.

  At first, all he heard was his own breathing, but as that slowed and quieted, he became aware of the wind rattling the branches of a dead piñon and stirring the tall stems of wild lettuce and bear grass. A lizard scurried over the boulder they hid behind, tiny claws gripping the rock, the drag of its tail a whisper in his ear.

  Audra shifted, probably trying to get comfortable. “I don’t hear anyone,” she said.

  Neither did he. “We should wait a little longer.” Move too soon, and it could cost them their lives.

  Audra lowered the handkerchief from her face. “I think the bleeding has stopped,” she said.

  “That’s good. I’m glad you weren’t hurt worse.”

  “I’m tougher than I look.” Another slight smile, which made him feel momentarily light-headed. No matter what else happened, he couldn’t afford to lose this woman.

  He sat up straighter, aware of some change around them. “Do you hear that?” he asked.

  She raised her head. “Is that a car?”

  “I think so.” He strained his ears, and the sound of a rumbling engine and tires on gravel grew louder. But the car wasn’t coming from the highway—it was traveling from farther up this gravel track. It continued to move closer, growing in volume and speed. He shifted position and could see a small section of the road through a gap between boulders. A cloud of dust appeared, almost obscuring the white SUV it engulfed. Hud couldn’t tell anything about the driver through the heavily tinted windows.

  As the SUV passed the dump site, it picked up more speed, the back wheels fishtailing in the gravel, great plumes of dust rolling up like smoke from a wet bonfire, until the only clue that a car lay within was the dull red glow of the brake lights as it navigated a sharp curve.

  “We should have jumped out and waved,” Audra said. “We should have tried to stop them.”

  “No, it’s good that we didn’t do that,” he said.

  “Why not? Maybe they could have helped.”

  “I think that might have been our sniper,” he said.

  She gaped at him, then sagged back against the rock. “How can we find out?” she asked after a moment.

  “I’m going to go out there. If he’s still up there, I’ll draw his fire.”

  She grabbed on to him, fingers digging in hard. “No! You could be shot.”

  “I don’t think I will be. And I’m wearing body armor.”

  “You don’t have armor on your head! Or your legs and arms! What am I supposed to do if you’re hurt?”

  “It’ll be okay,” he said. He wasn’t at all sure of that, but who else would have been parked down this road? Who else would speed up passing a law enforcement vehicle, to make sure he and the vehicle he was driving couldn’t be identified later?

  He leaned down and drew the small revolver out of his ankle holster. “Do you know how to fire a gun?” he asked her.

  She nodded. “Dad took me to the shooting range. He taught me gun safety and made me practice.” She frowned. “It’s not something I really kept up with.”

  “Take this.” He handed her the revolver. He’d feel better knowing she wasn’t completely defenseless if something did happen to him.

  “All right.” Dried blood stood out against her pale cheek, and he could read the fear in her eyes.

  He kissed her cheek. “It’s going to be okay,” he said, and then sprinted out from the shelter of the boulder.

  He ran a zigzag pattern toward the next grouping of rocks, shoulders tensed for the bullet he half expected to come. But no shots sounded, and only the rasp of his own ragged breathing accompanied him to his cover.

  The next sprint was longer, and the third longer still, but with each one, he gained confidence. Whoever had been firing at them earlier was gone. He reached the cruiser, climbed in and started it, then guided it over the rough ground to Audra’s hiding place.

  As soon as he stopped the vehicle, she hurried out from cover and into the passenger seat. She leaned back, eyes closed. “I’ve never been so terrified in my life,” she said.

  “Yeah.” He reached back and pulled two bottles of water from the cooler on the floorboard, and handed one to her. “I need to report this and get some people out here to investigate,” he said. “Do you want me to get someone to take you home?”

  “No.” She opened her eyes. “I’d rather stay here with you.”

  “I’d rather have you here.” For a little while longer, at least, he needed to see her, to know for sure that she was all right.

  “Why do you think he left?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. Maybe he never intended to kill us, only to scare us away. Maybe he got cold feet about killing a cop. Or a woman.”

  She hugged her arms across her stomach. “Scare us away from what? We haven’t figured out anything.”

  “And someone wants it to stay that way.”

  THE BLUE AND RED revolving lights of law enforcement vehicles cast eerie shadows across the rock monoliths and sagebrush-covered slopes around the illegal dump site. Spotlights bleached all color from the construction debris and sent long shadows up the sides of the surrounding cliffs. Audra huddled in the passenger seat of Hud’s c
ruiser, a square of cotton gauze taped over the gash a shard of rock had cut in her cheek. The wound ached, and her whole head throbbed, but the EMTs who had arrived with three cruisers of Rangers in response to Hud’s call for help had decided she didn’t need stitches or further medical attention.

  Mostly, she wanted to go home, but she was too afraid to go there by herself. That unknown shooter, firing on them from the hills, had felt somehow personal. As if her enemies—her father’s enemies?—wanted her not only disgraced, but dead. And why? Why send a private investigator after her? Why smear her reputation in the newspapers? What had she ever done to hurt anyone?

  She had been sitting here for hours, as the last light faded from the sky, waiting for Hud and Lieutenant Dance to return from their climb into the hills, to the place where Hud thought the person who had fired on them had been hiding. When she saw him walking toward her through the harsh glow of the spotlights she sat up straighter, some of the weight lifted from her shoulders. “What did you find?” she asked when he reached her.

  “Someone was up there, all right,” he said. “We found some spent brass, some scuff marks. And we found where he parked the car, off the road behind the remains of an old corral.”

  “He must have driven in ahead of you and waited,” Dance said.

  “He let us wander around here for a while before he ambushed us,” Hud said. “Was he waiting to see what we would do?”

  “Maybe he was moving into position.” Dance addressed Audra. “Who knew you were coming here with Hud this afternoon?”

  “No one,” she said. “We met up after work, and I didn’t tell anyone where I was going.”

  “We talked about it at your school,” Hud said. “Maybe someone overheard.”

  She considered this. “We were standing in the hallway. There wasn’t anyone else there.”

  “Could someone in a classroom have heard us?” Hud asked.

  “Maybe, if they were listening at the door. But who would do that? And why?”

  “I don’t know, but I think we’ll look into your staff a little more closely,” Dance said.

  The idea of any of the people on her staff—all women—climbing up into the hills and trying to kill her and Hud with an assault rifle was so absurd, she wanted to laugh. But her cheek and her head hurt too much to allow laughter. “Do what you have to do,” she said. “But I don’t think this was someone on my staff.”

  “Any other ideas who might want you out of the way?” Dance asked.

  Who might want me dead? She suppressed a shudder. “What about the private detective—Salazar?” she asked. “Maybe you should talk to him again, and ask about the person who hired him.”

  “We’ve been trying to track down Lawrence,” Dance said. “Salazar has been cooperative, but Lawrence hid his tracks well. But we’ll keep digging.”

  She nodded. “I’m so exhausted, I can’t even think.”

  “Hud can take you home,” Dance said. “We’ve done all we can here for now.”

  She would have said she was too keyed up to relax, but once in the comforting darkness of the cruiser, the radio murmuring softly in the background, neither she nor Hud speaking, she drifted off, unconscious until he gently woke her in the driveway of her home.

  “I think I should stay here tonight,” he said.

  She touched his cheek, feeling the rough stubble from where he needed to shave. “I think you should,” she said. They could comfort each other and escape, for a little while, all the hurt that crowded in too close during the day.

  HUD ENDED UP spending much of the weekend with Audra, working at a laptop on her sofa while she did paperwork at the kitchen table. Though the events of the past week were never far from her mind, the weekend felt like a return to normalcy, or rather, a new normal, one where Hud was part of her everyday life.

  By Monday morning, her cheek had turned an ugly purple, though the cut itself was small enough she hoped it wouldn’t leave a scar. “How do you feel?” Hud asked, examining the wound after she emerged from the shower.

  “It’s pretty sore. And I’m vain enough to be self-conscious about it.”

  “You’re still beautiful.” He brushed back her hair and kissed her bruised cheek.

  She wrapped her arms around him, wishing they had time to go back to bed. Loving him was the only thing that made her forget herself and her troubles these days. But life didn’t stop just because she wanted it to. “Do you think I’ll frighten any children?” she asked.

  “Oh, probably not too many.” Laughing, he danced out of the way. He had her smiling through breakfast, and by the time she arrived at work, she was feeling more optimistic. As horrible as last week had been, today was bound to be better.

  Brenda hadn’t arrived yet when Audra pulled into the parking lot, the admin’s reserved space still empty. So she was surprised when she walked into the administrative suite and saw the door to her office open. She stepped inside and stared at Jana, who sat in Audra’s chair, the desk drawers pulled open. “What are you doing?” Audra demanded.

  Jana looked up. “What happened to you?” she asked. “You look terrible.”

  “Never mind about me.” Audra moved forward and put her bag and purse on the desk. “What are you doing going through my desk?”

  “I wasn’t going through your desk. I was looking for a pen.”

  Audra grabbed a pen from the mug on the corner of the desk. “Then why didn’t you look here?”

  “Thanks.” Jana tugged on the pen, but Audra refused to release it. “Why were you going through my desk?” she asked again.

  “I have to get to class.” Jana stood and tried to move past, but Audra blocked her.

  “You’re not going anywhere,” Audra said. “You’re fired.”

  “You can’t fire me.”

  “I can. Now you have ten minutes to collect your things and leave.”

  “What are you going to do with my class?”

  “I’ll take it this morning, then I’ll call in a sub.” She had a short list of moms who would fill in as needed, in exchange for a break on their children’s tuition.

  “You can’t do this,” Jana said, her face reddening. “I’ll sue.”

  “I caught you, red-handed, riffling through my desk,” Audra said. “That’s grounds for dismissal.”

  Jana glared, and Audra wondered if she was going to have to call the police to escort the woman off the premises. But after a few tense seconds, Jana stormed out of the office. Audra followed, watching as Jana collected her purse and a tote bag of books and papers and other items from her classroom. Then the older woman marched out.

  Brenda was coming in as Jana was leaving. “Is Jana sick or something?” she asked, watching Jana’s red Toyota screech out of the parking lot.

  “Jana is fired,” Audra said. “I came in this morning and caught her riffling through my desk.”

  “What?” Brenda’s eyes widened. “Did she take anything?”

  “I don’t know.” Audra tried to remember if she had anything in her drawer worth taking. “But going through my personal belongings is grounds for dismissal.”

  “What are you going to do about her class?”

  “I’ll take it this morning. Call the subs until you find someone who can come in this afternoon. Don’t tell them why we need them—just that we have a teacher who’s going to be out for the next few days. I’ll draft an ad for a new teacher.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Audra spent the morning with the four-year-old class. Being with the children, focusing on them, calmed her. Jana had planned a science lesson about plants, with examples of bark and ferns and leaves for the children to feel and examine, then they read a story about animals that lived in the forest, and drew pictures of trees. By the time the substitute showed up to take the children to the lunchroom, Audra was feeling more relaxed. She deci
ded to walk to a nearby park for lunch and enjoy the warm weather.

  The letter was waiting on Audra’s desk when she returned from lunch. A fine linen envelope, with the embossed return address of the Superintendent’s Office of the Montrose School District. Stomach churning, she slit open the envelope and unfolded the single sheet of paper:

  Dear Ms. Trask,

  This letter is to inform you that your contract with the school district is now declared null, according to Article 17b of your contract with us. We will no longer require your services as director of a day care and preschool facility in conjunction with Canyon Creek Elementary School.

  Her eyes blurred as she scanned the following lines of legal jargon. She set the letter aside, took a deep breath, then picked up the phone.

  “Ms. Arnotte is unavailable at the moment,” the woman who answered the phone at the attorney’s office said. “May I take a message?”

  “This is Audra Trask. I just received a certified letter informing me that the school district is canceling the agreement for me to manage the day care and preschool at their new Canyon Creek Elementary campus. I need to know if they can do that, and what we can do to fight it.”

  “I’ll give her the message.”

  Audra ended the call. The initial numbness upon reading the letter was fading, replaced by a growing rage. She punched another number into the phone.

  “Superintendent’s office. This is Maeve.”

  “Maeve, this is Audra Trask. I need to speak to Superintendent Wells.”

  “Superintendent Wells is not in. But I was told if you called to tell you that the decision is final and there’s nothing we can do to help you.” And then she hung up before Audra could say another word.

  Audra was still staring at the phone in her hand when it rang. “Hello?”

  “Audra, this is Cheryl Arnotte. What’s going on?”

  “I received a certified letter from the school district. Let me read it to you.” She read the letter. For a long moment, Cheryl didn’t say anything. “How can they do this?” Audra asked. “We have a contract. That’s legally binding, isn’t it?”