by Diana Palmer
On the other hand, it was rapidly getting dark. She had no flashlight, no candle, no matches. And there was no moon, because the sky was overcast. Her only hope would be to feel the ruts and keep in them, to follow the track the SUV had left.
She considered taking off her shoes, but she might get frostbite in her feet if she did that. It had to be freezing for it to snow. She pulled dead limbs off a small tree, which were long enough to let her “feel” the height of the vegetation around the ruts. There was a chance, only a very small one, that she might be able to walk out of the forest. It was that, or do nothing. Staying in one place would be immediately fatal. She’d freeze to death waiting for someone to look for her here. If she could reach a road, any sort of road, she might get help. That was also going to be something of a long shot, because not a lot of people traveled the back roads of these mountains on a snowy night unless they lived in them. But there might be a sheriff’s car patrolling. She had to hope there might be.
She moved as quickly as she could along the ruts through the forest. It was so quiet, she thought. Nothing was stirring. There wasn’t even a bird song. The only noise was the creaking of tree limbs in the heavy wind as snow blew all around. It peppered Phoebe’s uncovered face, and the sting of it made her realize that snow wasn’t her only problem. It was now sleeting as well.
She put one foot in front of the other and tried as hard as she could to think only of each step as she made it. She had to concentrate on getting out of the forest as quickly as possible.
She came to a fork in the road and hesitated, grinding her teeth together. But while she debated which way to go, she heard that odd, distant, faraway singing. It sounded like Cherokee. It was coming from the right fork. She smiled to herself and turned to the right without a single hesitation. Maybe, she thought, there was just a little chance of escape.
CONVINCED THAT DRAKE was looking after Phoebe for him, Cortez walked up to the front door of an elegant mansion just inside the city limits of Chenocetah. He had Officer Parker with him to serve the warrant, which was local. This house was rented by Walks Far, although Bennett was paying for it.
Cortez rang the doorbell three times, but there was no answer. He and Officer Parker went around the side of the house to the backyard. The garage door was open. The SUV registered to Claudia was missing.
It only took a second for Cortez to connect the missing SUV and the desperate woman whose first thought would be to get Phoebe before she could testify against her.
Cortez whipped out his phone and started to call Drake, but before he could punch in the number, the phone rang noisily.
“Yes?” he answered at once.
“It’s Drake” came the terse reply. “Phoebe’s not here.”
It was a nightmare. His heart raced, although it didn’t show on his hard face. “Have you searched the house?”
“Everywhere. Her purse and car keys are still here.”
Which meant, quite obviously, that she’d left without them. Probably at gunpoint.
“Do you have any idea where the Bennett woman might take Phoebe?” Cortez asked at once. “It would be somewhere deserted, off the beaten path.”
“Everywhere is off the beaten path this far back in the mountains,” Drake said miserably. “I put out a BOLO, but we’ve had no contact.”
Cortez drew in a short breath. “I’m going to see Bennett,” he said. “He might have some ideas. It’s a long shot, but it’s all we’ve got. I’ll be in touch the minute I know anything. Have you got a helicopter?”
“Sure, it’s in the Batcave, right alongside the amphibious vehicles,” Drake muttered sarcastically.
“Sorry,” Cortez said sheepishly. “I’ll phone DEA. They usually have aircraft.”
“They may have it, but they’re not going up at night in a sleet and snowstorm,” Drake replied. “No pilot is going to risk that.”
“Damn!”
“I’ll talk to the sheriff,” Drake added. “We’ve got a mounted Sheriff’s Posse in our county—horses can go where vehicles can’t. And we’ve got a top-notch Emergency Management Agency locally. The director is one great guy. I’ll call him, too.”
“Thanks, Drake,” Cortez said stiffly. “I’ll get back to you.”
He hung up, explained the situation to Officer Parker, and the two of them rushed back to town.
BENNETT WAS AT HIS construction company trailer, with a glass of whiskey at his fingertips. Nobody was working tonight. Not even him. He looked up as Cortez came barreling in the door.
He raised his glass. “I’m going down as an accessory after the fact, right? Are you here to arrest me?”
Cortez paused at the front of the desk. “Your sister has Phoebe,” he said at once.
The other man scowled. “Are you sure?”
“Your sister’s SUV has been seen at her house before. The police found a witness who saw it pass by this afternoon, just before Phoebe disappeared. Her car keys and driver’s license are still in her purse, at the house, but she’s gone. It won’t take rocket science to put those facts together and draw a conclusion.”
Bennett closed his eyes. “Oh, God!”
Cortez leaned against the desk, his dark eyes blazing. “Listen to me, there may be a chance that I can help your sister escape the death penalty. She’s obviously unbalanced. But you have to help me!”
“What can I do? I don’t know where she is!”
“Think,” Cortez said firmly. “If your sister planned to do harm to Phoebe, she’d more than likely take her to a place she was familiar with! Someplace deserted, off the beaten path. But she’d have to know such an area to go there. She’d want someplace where she wouldn’t likely be disturbed or discovered.”
Bennett stared at the desk, frowning. “Well…there was a place she talked about, the only place she really liked up here. She hated the country. I think it’s part of the reason she got involved with Fred in the first place. We’re going to be here for months.”
“She could have gone back to Atlanta without you,” Cortez pointed out.
“Not likely. There wasn’t any excitement there.” Bennett grimaced. “Today, I refused to give her any money unless she stayed here with Walks Far while he was in the hospital. She was furious. She said she didn’t care if he died. That was when I knew she’d done something. She’d gone to see him that day you stopped by only because I’d threatened her. After that, she went wild. I couldn’t even talk to her.”
“Where did she talk about? What spot did she like?” Cortez pressed.
“The Yonah National Forest,” he said. “A roadside park deep in the woods, where they said gold had been found once. There were cabins to rent near the little picnic area.” He scowled. “Maybe Fred was staying there. I know he wasn’t in town, because Walks Far checked all the motels looking for him when Claudia let slip that he was in the area.”
Cortez’s heart leaped. It was a big area, but better than trying to search the whole state. “Thanks,” he told Bennett. “I’ll do what I can for you. And for her. If Phoebe’s unharmed,” he added coldly.
Bennett watched him leave with grave misgivings. If Phoebe was dead, he’d have no peace for the rest of his life. Cortez would make a deadly enemy.
PHOEBE HEARD THE HOWL of a cat and she stiffened. She listened. It was very quiet, except for the sleet hitting the ground. She was so cold. She walked in place, waving her arms, trying to coax heat from her body. It wouldn’t take long for hypothermia to set in. Then she’d fall into a deep sleep, from which she’d never awaken. She had to keep moving or die.
She felt for plant growth with the keen switch, following the ruts. She couldn’t go very fast because she couldn’t see her feet. But ironically, as the snow began to cover the ground, it made it easier to see the ruts. An advantage in a disadvantage. But it gave her a little hope. She might yet be able to make it out of the forest, at least to a more public road. If only her feet weren’t freezing in her knee-high hose and flat shoes. If only she w
asn’t shivering so!
She pictured a roaring fire in her cozy fireplace at home, and soft music playing. She pictured herself lying across Cortez’s lap, dreaming. She listened for the sound of those singing voices, but she didn’t hear them anymore.
She put one foot in front of the other and moved on.
DRAKE ANSWERED the phone the minute it rang. “Stewart,” he said abruptly.
“It’s me,” Cortez replied. “Bennett said his sister talked about a little roadside park in the Yonah National Forest, near the cabins. Know any enforcement guys out that way?”
“Yes, I do,” he said. “The forest service has an enforcement officer who’s a friend of mine, and there’s also state game and fish enforcement. They’d be glad to lend us a hand with the search. I’ve put out the word to a local tracker as well. I’ll organize it.”
“I’ll be there as quickly as I can.”
“You’ll need chains,” Drake said. “We’re getting sleet and snow mixed. It won’t take long for it to stick on the roads. You’ll never make it on regular tires.”
Cortez groaned. Another delay!
“Listen,” Drake added, “go by the sheriff’s department and get the sheriff to come out here with you. He’s got a four-wheel-drive vehicle and it’s already got chains.”
“Thanks, Drake! See you soon.” He hung up and started toward the sheriff’s office.
THE SHERIFF of Yonah County, Bob Steele, was a big man, tall with curly silver hair and black eyebrows. He was a pleasant man, but he inspired respect. He heard Cortez out, scowling.
“It’s sleeting,” the sheriff said at once. “You think the Bennett woman left Miss Keller out in this weather?”
“Yes,” Cortez said tightly, “unless she’s already killed her,” he added, voicing a thought he didn’t want to acknowledge.
The sheriff got up from his desk and took his pistol out of the drawer, sticking it into the holster at his belt. He was somber. “We’ll hope for the best,” he said.
“I appreciate the help you’ve already given us, letting Drake shift his hours so that he could watch Phoebe.”
“How the hell did the Bennett woman get to her?” the sheriff asked.
“Phoebe took off early from work to prune her damned roses,” Cortez muttered on his way out the door. “Without letting anyone know.”
“Not a good idea, with a killer running loose,” was the reply.
“Damned straight, and when we catch up with her, she’s going to get it rubbed in for the next half century!”
The sheriff only smiled. He knew, as Cortez did, that the first twenty-four hours were crucial in a hostage case. If they didn’t find Miss Keller in that time, she was likely to be dead—of a bullet, or exposure. He unlocked the four-wheel-drive SUV and climbed in with Cortez.
THE GROUND WAS WHITE. Phoebe tossed aside the sticks, because she could see the ruts quite well now. She stopped periodically to listen for the sound of an approaching vehicle, because the Bennett woman might still come back gunning for her. She couldn’t take any chances.
Her hands felt frozen and her arms were getting numb. She’d never really experienced cold on this scale. She could hardly feel her feet. They were numb, too, and she worried about frostbite. That amused her, because she was likely to die out here, so what did it matter? She rubbed her arms furiously. If only she’d hit that Bennett woman harder, she muttered to herself. Running might have been a mistake. But the other woman was taller than she was, and Phoebe had the disadvantage of having been hit over the head.
Her head still hurt, but the nausea had abated just a little bit. The cold helped keep it at bay. She looked around. The woods were everywhere. She couldn’t see anything that looked like a main road. There was no telling how far back in the forest she was. If it was several miles, she doubted her chances of making it out alive.
She stopped again, listening, but there wasn’t anything to hear. The sleet had stopped and now it was snowing, big, fluffy flakes that drifted in front of her face as they fluttered to the ground. It was beautiful, quiet, and almost surreal. It was also deadly. If she didn’t keep moving, she would freeze to death.
She put one foot in front of the other and kept walking. There was no longer any chance of seeing the tire tracks of the Bennett woman’s SUV, because they were covered up by the snow. But the ruts were still visible, because the grass had been beaten down and crushed by the weight of the big vehicle. She followed them doggedly, her arms wrapped tight around her chest to hold in what little warmth was still left in her body. She cursed the thin blouse and flimsy slacks. Why hadn’t she worn something warmer? If only she had a jacket, a blanket, anything to keep her warm!
Once, she thought she heard something in the distance. She stopped, turning her head toward the direction from which it came. She stood very still, waiting, hoping. But the sound vanished quickly. Perhaps, she thought, it was a car going along the highway. She might be closer to it than she’d realized. Her heart lifted, and she began to walk faster. Hope, she thought, was the last thing a person in danger lost. There was always hope.
She remembered her last sight of Cortez’s broad back, walking away. She wondered if he regretted their parting as much as she did. She knew he’d feel guilty if she died. It was the way he was made. She’d had a lot of time to consider his attitude, and Tina’s, since she’d been out in the wilds. She realized, finally, that it was jealousy. She’d been on the porch talking to Drake. It hadn’t been any sort of intimate conversation, but it might have seemed like one to people who were already insecure with their own feelings. She knew Cortez cared for her. He’d talked about children a lot. She loved him. If she got out of this, she promised herself, she was going to sit on him and make him listen to her. She was going to convince him—and Tina—that there was nothing going on between her and Drake Stewart. She wasn’t about to let Cortez get away a second time. She walked faster.
MEANWHILE, THE SHERIFF and Cortez were driving along the roads in the national forest while the snow continued to fall.
“It’s like trying to find a straw in a haystack,” Cortez said tersely as he stared intently ahead.
“It’s a big forest,” the sheriff agreed. “But you’re right in concluding that Miss Bennett would likely take Miss Keller to a place she knew. Since she’s not a native, thank God, that narrows the search area a bit.”
“I wish we could get in the air,” Cortez said fervently. “We’d stand a better chance of finding her.”
“She seems like a very sharp woman,” came the quiet reply.
“She is,” Cortez said, “and she’s got a great background in anthropology and archaeology. She’s no stranger to back roads and wilderness.” His eyes narrowed. “She’d try to walk out, if she could. She’d be on a path.”
“You don’t think she’d stay put?”
“It’s unlikely,” Cortez replied. “It’s too wet to make a fire and there’s the risk of exposure. She’d keep moving. I’m sure of it.”
“At first light, I’ll get a plane out here if I have to commandeer one, and a pilot to go with it,” the sheriff promised. “One way or another, we’ll find her.”
“It wouldn’t hurt to check with the posse and see if they’ve found any sign.”
The sheriff already had the mike in his hand. He grinned at Cortez. “Just what I thought myself.”
BUT THE POSSE HAD NOTHING. Neither did the forestry people. It was difficult to search at night, even with the snow making it light enough to see. The forest was immense, and a lone person would just blend in with it.
A call came in from the dispatcher. The sheriff answered it, while Cortez’s heart leaped with hope.
“We’ve had contact from one of your units,” the dispatcher said. “One of the guests in a cabin saw a four-wheel-drive vehicle go by twice, headed for the dead end past the picnic area about three hours ago.”
“On my way,” the sheriff said, stopping to wheel the vehicle around.
Corte
z grinned. Finally a break! Now if only they found Phoebe alive…
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
PHOEBE WAS BEGINNING TO TIRE. She was in good health and her legs were strong, but the combination of exertion, exposure and lack of food was telling on her. She’d had breakfast, but she hadn’t been hungry at lunch. She’d used up her reserve energy. She stopped, at a sudden crossroad where the road split into four different directions. Looking ahead at the incredible expanse of snow and forest, she felt despair. There were no obvious tracks, and this time there was no distant singing to point the way. For the first time since the ordeal began, she felt that it was going to be impossible to walk to safety.
If she’d had more strength, if she knew where she was going, even the direction, there might have been a chance. She didn’t know where she was, so she didn’t know in which direction to go. If she made the wrong choice, she was going to die. If she stayed here, she was going to die. If she went into the woods and covered herself up with leaves and pine tree limbs to try and keep warm, they’d never find her and she was still going to die.
She was soaked to the skin from the falling snow. Her hair was wet as well. Her feet were totally numb, her hose soaked. As she took one more step, she became aware that she couldn’t feel her feet.
It was too much. She had no more hope. It was going to end, because she couldn’t walk anymore. She was so tired. She seemed to have been walking forever. She was cold and hungry and her feet were frozen. She looked up and felt the sleet and snow hit her in the face. She closed her eyes. It was all over.
She sat down in the middle of the crossroads with a long sigh, and then curled herself into a ball and closed her eyes. They said freezing to death wasn’t painful. She hoped that was true. She hoped that Cortez would remember how wonderful their brief time together had been, before Tina and Drake complicated everything. Before she complicated everything. She should have gone to Cortez and made him listen. He would have to live with the guilt of walking away from her, and that hurt her, too. She loved him. She whispered his name and her breath sighed out in a weak, final little burst.
