Once he caught the killer, he'd be hailed a hero. No one would call him “weird” Adam again. Oh, they didn't think he knew what they said behind his back, but he did. All his life, he'd been different. People laughed because he took responsibility for looking out for their welfare. Over the years, he'd been forced to sell off his family property, but he'd made sure he sold only to good people. Like Grace.
Grace would look at him differently after he captured this guy, too. She might even regret turning him down when he'd asked her out. He'd always have a soft spot for her, but Lainey was the best woman for him. Just knowing Grace would think of him as an equal would be enough to make him happy.
Yes, after tonight, he'd be a hero in everyone's eyes.
He shifted the heavy rifle, hoping it would be enough of a threat to capture the bad guy, because Adam didn't think he could actually fire the gun.
The last time he'd fired it, he'd been a teenager. His dad took him hunting. They spent hours in the cold damp morning air waiting for an unsuspecting deer. Adam hadn't wanted to go, but he didn't want to disappoint his dad. Unlike his grandfather, his dad thought Adam was a sissy. Adam hoped to prove him wrong by bringing home the biggest buck ever.
Finally, they were rewarded for their patience. A huge antlered buck came into the clearing. Adam took aim. The rifle butt jammed against his shoulder, bruising his bone. He looked down the barrel through the sight, focusing on his target.
“Careful,” his dad whispered. “Steady does it.”
Adam's lungs ached from the short shallow breaths he managed to take. Fear traveled through his veins. He and the buck stared at each other, into each other, and Adam's body quivered. He focused on keeping his rifle steady and not giving in to his niggling conscience.
He tightened his finger on the trigger.
“Now,” his dad whispered. “Do it.”
Adam sent a silent warning. Run.
The deer lunged off into the deep cover of the woods. Adam pulled the trigger. The bullet sped harmlessly into the treetops.
The force of the recoil knocked him to the ground. He pushed himself to his feet, waiting for his father's wrath. Instead of the anticipated anger, Adam read pity in his eyes. That stung him more fiercely than any words could have done.
His dad never invited him to go hunting again.
Adam hadn't considered using the rifle again until tonight. He didn't even know if it would fire, but he'd stuffed a cartridge in, just in case.
In the distance he heard a muffled shout. He swallowed hard. His destiny awaited him.
****
Adam's voice boomed from the phone. With each word, Tyler's apprehension grew.
“Tyler, I'm going to the cabin at Hannah Falls to catch the serial killer. He's heading that way. I saw him. Well, not him, but his light. That's the only place I know of he could hole up. I went by Grace's house. That's when I saw him, but Grace must be with you. When you get this message, she can show you the back road that goes to the cabin. It's faster. I'll hold him there until you come to get him.”
“What the...?”
Tyler hit the replay button silencing Jake's question. They listened to Adam's message again.
Jake's penetrating gaze met Tyler's. “What the hell is he talking about? Where's Grace? I thought—”
“She lied to me. She didn't go to Harri's at all. She went home. And now Max has her.”
“You don't know that for sure,” Jake said.
“Trust me. I know.”
“Do you know what cabin Adam was talking about?”
“Yeah. I don't know about a back road, but if it exists, I'll find it.” He dialed the hospital. Just as he'd suspected Harri was still there.
“But I thought Grace went home with you. That's what she told me.”
“Listen, Harri. We don't have much time. Max has her and he's taking her to the cabin at Hannah Falls. Adam says there's a back road. How do I find it?”
He listened to her directions and hung up the phone. “Let's go.” Tyler tucked his gun in the waistband of his jeans. “If we don't beat Adam, Max will kill both of them.”
Jake called for backup before climbing into the passenger seat of Tyler's pickup. “Let's get this show on the road,” he said.
Tyler gunned the motor and sped onto the main road. They couldn't afford to waste any time. Not if he wanted to save Grace. His gut clenched in fear, fear of losing Grace. He loved her. He couldn't let history repeat itself. He couldn't lose her. He pressed his foot to the accelerator.
****
Grace pushed against the nauseating rag with her tongue, but it remained lodged in her mouth. She and Max had trekked most of the distance Hannah Falls. She could hear the waterfall now. What good would it do if she did spit out the vile cloth? No one could hear her scream. Not that she'd resort to yelling for help. She had youth, stamina, and determination on her side. Though he had control at the moment, she'd gain the upper hand somehow.
All she had to do was free her hands. She'd tightened her fists before he knotted Tiffany's leather leash around her wrists. She'd been stretching the thin leather without Max's knowledge, while he walked beside her, pressing the gun against her spine. One of her wrists now slipped partially from the bond. She wiggled her fingers to start the blood flowing.
Max stumbled and righted himself. His heavy breathing worsened the farther they climbed. Inwardly, she smiled at his discomfort, while she forged ahead a little faster. He held the flashlight in one hand, lighting the trail, but she didn't need it to guide her. She'd hiked to Hannah Falls many times.
Max lurched sideways and let out a loud curse. He took a few limping steps and ordered her to stop. She considered running off the well-worn path into the dense woods. Max would never catch her. She could lead him aimlessly through the mountain for hours. But if he didn't chase her, he might escape. She couldn't risk it. This had to end this tonight.
She turned to face him, watching him rub his ankle. He kept the gun pointed in her direction, but he placed the light on the ground. Grace moved her wrist a little further from the leather knot and suddenly she was free.
Not wasting a moment, she kicked out, catching Max by surprise and knocking the gun from his hand. Her next well-placed kick connected with his nose, sending him sprawling backwards.
He cursed and grabbed his face. The flashlight illuminated blood spurting between his fingers. “You stupid bitch.”
She yanked the gag from her mouth and threw it to the ground.
He pushed to a sitting position and reached for the gun.
Grace dove for it. Her fingers closed around the weapon seconds before his hand gripped hers. They struggled for a few seconds, and then he wrested the gun from her. She saw the weapon coming and tried to move away, but she wasn't quick enough. A sharp pain echoed through her skull. She tasted dirt as his weight pinned her to the ground and forced the air from her lungs. Her ears filled with a loud ringing noise. Blinking her eyes caused an unbearable tightening band around her forehead.. Totally disoriented, she concentrated on gathering strength to dislodge him from her back.
“You broke my nose.” His words sounded muffled and strange.
Light flashed behind her eyes and she gave in to the pressure that cracked her head like a fallen coconut.
Then everything turned black.
****
“Wake up, bitch.”
A stinging slap made Grace lift her heavy eyelids. Where was she? A blinding light played across her face. She closed her eyes against the intrusion.
“Get up.”
Someone tugged at her shoulders. She pushed at the offending hands.
He kicked her. “I told you to get up.”
An open palm connected loudly with her cheek, and everything came rushing back in a swirling barrage. Max had hit her with the gun. She pushed at the fog in her brain and tried to lift her eyelids.
Through shuttered eyes, she struggled to focus on Max's bloody face. Satisfaction crept over her,
easing the throbbing pain in her head. She'd gotten in her licks. His nose job would need repair, if he lived, which Grace was determined wouldn't happen. She pushed to a sitting position, weaving drunkenly, swallowing back the bile rising in her throat.
Max grabbed her arm, yanking her to her feet. “Let's go.”
He pushed her forward, not bothering to bind her arms. Big mistake for him to think she was too weak to overpower him.
Max's labored breathing fueled her confidence, and anger gave her strength, but the thump, thump, thump in her temples made it hard to concentrate. Why hadn't he killed her back at the house? Why was he taking her to the cabin?
She pushed a branch out of her way and released it.
Max cursed.
Score one for the good guys.
A light blinked through the trees. Had he left a light on in the cabin? Funny. She didn't remember it having electricity. She stepped into a clearing overgrown with kudzu. The ugly vines grew rampant through the mountains, covering everything in their path with a thick green blanket. She hadn't seen the cabin in years. It must be covered with the stuff. In the moonlight, she could see the outline of the rundown cabin. No light glowed behind the broken windowpanes. Had it been a reflection of the moon she'd seen, or a result of her head injury?
“Come on. Move.” Max's words wheezed from his throat. He dug the gun into her spine.
She didn't want to find out what waited for her in the cabin. Her best chance of survival would be to strike while Max still struggled to catch his breath.
She threw herself to the ground, rolling to her back and catching Max by surprise. Drawing her knees to her chest she kicked out with both feet, landing a blow directly to Max's groin.
He crumpled, dropping the gun.
Pain slowed her as she looked around for the gun. Suddenly the clouds shifted and a shaft of moonlight glinted off the metal. She pushed to her knees and crawled toward it, but Max closed his hand around her ankle.
“No!” She kicked with her free foot, but his grip was like an iron cuff. She stretched her fingers toward the weapon.
“You're not going anywhere,” he snarled, digging his fingers painfully into her ankle. “Not alive, anyway.”
“I'm not going to die, Max. You are!” Her fingers touched the gun.
A soft click sounded.
The switchblade. How could she have forgotten about that?
“Move your hand away from the gun. Don't worry, I'm not going to kill you, Gracie Jo. You're going to be the next victim of the Knoxville Knifer.”
He grabbed her hair. “Get up, Gracie Jo. Don't you want to look into the face of the notorious serial killer before you die?”
Max was the Knoxville Knifer? Pain became a burning inferno. Her scalp seemed to be ripping from her skull. She rose slowly. The trees and night sky swayed dizzily before she gained her balance.
Max's voice droned on. “By the time they find you, I'll be long gone. These rednecks will spend the next ten years looking for their serial killer, but they won't find him. All they'll find is you after the animals have fed on your dead flesh.”
“You won't get away with this. The FBI knows you're here.”
His grin froze her blood.
Grace shuddered. How many women had died because of her? How many did he kill to set up a cover for her murder?
The knife's point pricked her skin. A warm trickle of blood ran down her neck. This was it. She was going to die.
“Get away from her and drop the knife.”
Her heart thudded. She raised her gaze and saw Adam standing several feet away, a rifle pointed at them.
Max gave a bitter laugh.
“I said drop the knife,” Adam repeated. His voice shook and so did the rifle. Grace wondered if he knew how to shoot that thing. What if he panicked and shot her? What if he didn't shoot and Max killed both of them? Grace had to get the knife away from Max. She doubted Adam could ever pull the trigger. She had no doubt she was going to die, but she couldn't let Adam die, too.
“Grace, come over here,” Adam said. “I've got him covered.”
Max's arm tightened around her neck. “You crazy idiot, you'll never shoot,” Max taunted.
The knife no longer pierced her skin. “He's a sharpshooter,” Grace croaked. “I wouldn't tempt him if I were you.” The knife moved away from her throat and his grip loosened.
“I'll have this knife plunged into her throat before your bullet gets here. You want to risk it?”
“I'll shoot if you don't let her go.”
Taking advantage of the situation, Grace wrapped her leg around Max's and pulled, dropping toward the ground and bringing him with her. She hit hard with Max on top, driving the air from her lungs.
With a move faster than she'd anticipated, Max grabbed her hair, yanking her head up and pressing the knife beneath her chin.
She gave a cry of pain and fury.
Once more the knife pricked her skin.
“Drop the rifle or I'll slit her throat.”
“No! Don't listen to him. Shoot him.” She closed her eyes, willing Adam to pull the trigger.
“I can blow your head clean off from here,” Adam shouted.
Max laughed. “Sure you can, Rambo.”
“Do it.” Grace felt the knife drawing blood. “Shoot him,” she begged. “He's going to kill me anyway.”
“He's not going to kill anybody.” Tyler's voice boomed from the wooded area beside the cabin.
Tyler? Her heart leaped with hope.
“Drop it, Max, or you're a dead man.” His tone left no doubt he had faced danger before and come out the winner. Between the pain and the fear she'd forgotten that Tyler had come to Foxfire for one reason—to kill Max. This wasn't the flirtatious veterinarian she'd fallen in love with. This was the hard-core special investigator. The man sworn to bring down Max Clayton.
Max looked from Adam to Tyler. “What are you going to do? Shoot? Who do you think will catch the bullet, me or her? I don't think either of you will take the chance.”
Max slowly moved to stand, keeping Grace clutched tightly against him. “Maybe I'll just finish her off now,” he taunted. “Or maybe I'll just carve her up a little.”
The sound of Adam cocking the rifle echoed through the clearing.
Grace's legs began to wobble. She had to do something. Tyler stepped closer and she sent him a message with her eyes, hoping he'd read her intent. She drove her elbow backward into Max's chest. He grunted and suddenly her arms were free.
“Bastard,” she spat out. She reached for his wrist. He was stronger than she thought and he tugged on her hair again. She gasped, but kept her grip on his arm. The knife moved closer to her throat. Through force of will, she kept her grip on his arm, but pain exploded violently through her head. She wouldn't let him win. Dying wasn't an option.
The rifle blasted a second before another shot rang out.
She and Max fell to the ground.
Max was on top of her. She couldn't breathe. Had she been shot?
Suddenly the weight lifted.
“It's over, Grace.” Tyler reached out his hand.
“Tyler!” she cried. Their fingers melded together and then his strong arms pulled her against him.
“I've got you, babe. You're safe now.”
“Max?”
“He's not going anywhere.”
She clung to him, heart beating rapidly, forgetting the pain ricocheting through her head. She had been saved by the man of her dreams. The man she trusted with her heart. Her fear was gone. His hands caressed her back, her hair, and finally her face. He squinted at her neck.
“You're bleeding.”
“It doesn't matter.”
His eyes, his wonderful eyes, gazed deep into her soul.
“It matters to me, babe.”
And finally, finally, she believed him.
Adam ran up to them. “Did I get him?”
Jake was on the ground beside Max, checking for a pulse. “He's dead.”<
br />
Adam dropped the rifle. “I didn't mean to kill him.” Adam's voice trembled. “I only wanted to keep him from hurting Grace. I didn't mean to kill anybody.”
“You didn't kill him,” Jake said. “Your shot went into his thigh. Mine killed him.”
“Thank you. I owe you one,” Tyler said.
Grace hugged Adam and then Jake. “Thank you both.”
“I was afraid to shoot,” Adam said. “But I had to. I couldn't let him kill you, Grace.”
“You were very brave, Adam.”
Jake clapped Adam on the shoulder. “I owe you, man. When you wounded him, it gave me a clear target.”
“So, it's finished,” Tyler said.
Chapter Fifteen
Grace woke with a start. She lay quietly listening for the sound that had startled her from sleep. Sometimes she found it hard to believe that she no longer had to fear anything. Her life had turned around. Her whole world had changed.
Tyler left with Jake after shutting down the clinic for an indefinite time. He told her he would be in touch, but she hadn't heard a word in two weeks. Though she tried to deny it, her hopes had died. She'd given her heart to Tyler, believed they would have a future, and set herself up for the pain of losing once again. The blame lay with her and no one else. In time she'd heal, but she'd never forget. Never.
From the foot of the bed Tiffany raised her head and looked at Grace. Sometimes she thought the dog could read her mind.
In the distance, she once again heard the noise that had awakened her. A hammer. Or several hammers. Was someone working on Brad's house?
He'd been released from the hospital, but Harri insisted on keeping him at her place until the cast came off his leg. Grace expected Harri would use the time to make Brad realize how much he needed her.
Grace swung her feet to the floor. “Come on, Tiff. Let's see what's going on.”
Tiffany jumped to the floor, stretched her legs and yawned. At least Tyler hadn't lied about his veterinarian skills. Grace dressed without giving a thought to how she looked, for what difference did it make if she looked her best? There was no one who cared.
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