Lindsay McKenna

by High Country Rebel

  He grinned, rubbing his hands. “Thanks for giving me a chance, Cat. I’m not as bad as you think.” He looked around the cabin. “Sure is dusty, isn’t it?” He took off his jacket and hung it over one of the barstools at the granite island. “Why don’t you make yourself at home? I’ll get things cleaned up so this looks like a proper place to live.”

  Relief surged through her. At least he wasn’t coming at her. He seemed happy. “I need to go to the bathroom.”

  “Go right ahead.”

  Cat located it off the main living room. Would there be anything in there she could use as a weapon? Or was Beau going to follow her in there? Mouth dry, she risked a look over her shoulder. He was pulling off sheets and piling them on the floor. Her heart wouldn’t stop beating hard. In the bathroom, she shut the door. There was no lock on it. Luckily, there was electricity to the cabin even if no one had used it in a long time. Cat tried to keep her movements quiet. She didn’t have to go to the bathroom—it was just an excuse. The first thing Magee did was to take her cell phone off her. She opened several drawers. In one, she found a seven-inch pair of scissors. Just knowing they were there was enough right now. She didn’t want Magee to find them on her or things could get rugged between them in a helluva hurry. She had to know the layout of the cabin, had to know exits points, places she could escape out of.

  Flushing the toilet, Cat tried to collect herself. Tried to calm down. As she opened the door, she saw no one around. Once she moved out into the hall, she saw Beau with an armful of white sheets coming her way.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked as he walked past her toward the other end of the hall.

  “A little,” she lied as Beau approached a washer and dryer.

  “Make yourself comfortable,” Beau called over his shoulder.

  Cat’s mouth quirked. Did Magee think she was willingly going to stay here? She walked out into the main room, scanning the area for her truck keys. Had Beau put them in his pocket? As she moved from place to place, Cat didn’t find them.

  Should she run away? Risking a glance, she saw Beau stuffing the sheets down into the washer. Cat gulped. It was now or never. She raced silently for the door, unlocked it and quietly stepped out. Her truck would be of no help since she had no keys. Looking around, she saw the entire cabin was surrounded by thick forest. Vaguely, she knew where she was. Her heart started pounding as she turned and raced off the porch, heading into the woods. She didn’t know if Magee was a tracker or not. Most likely not. Cat knew she didn’t dare use the road, because it would be the first place Magee would think to go. Her breath came in explosions as she leaped into the woods, a slight slant to the hill where the cabin was located. Adrenaline surged into her bloodstream and terror made her run as hard and fast as she could.

  She had to get far enough away, blend into the dark, shadows and light caused by the sunlight, and disappear. The pine needles on the ground were brown and dry. They covered a lot of black rocks and she stumbled all too often. She had to get far enough away and do it quietly. And Cat knew if Magee found her, he’d explode into a rage and kill her. This time, she had no illusions. This time, she’d die.

  *

  BEAU WALKED OUT into the living room. “Cat? Where are you?”

  No returning answer.

  Cursing, he couldn’t see her anywhere. She’d walked down the hall into the main room. Was she upstairs? He quickly took the cedar stairs, his boots thunking against the wood. On the second floor, he opened each of bedroom doors, calling her name. Why would she leave him? Cat knew he was going to treat her right. He didn’t want to scare her. He just wanted an opportunity to show her he loved her. That she could learn to love him. At the same time, as he tore each door open and didn’t find her, his rage mounted.

  By the time he quickly went down the stairs, Beau knew she’d run away. Jerking the door open, he stepped out. He yelled her name. His voice was quickly soaked up by the forest around him. He fished the keys out of his pocket, made a quick run around the huge cabin. He peered into the woods, trying to see if he saw her. Anger burned through him.

  He ran back to the truck. Cat would run down that two-mile road to the main highway to get help. Most likely, hitch a ride back into Jackson Hole. Mouth thinning, Beau cursed and climbed into the truck. He’d find her and bring her back here. And then he’d beat the shit out of her and teach her that she couldn’t run away from him ever again.

  *

  TALON’S GAZE HALTED on one land entry: Downing. His heart thudded. His instincts screamed at him. Downing had owned the Triple H. He was dead now. After running his hand over the entry and then moving to the computer that had all the updated information, Talon typed in the property number. On the computer screen, he saw that the taxes on the cabin were paid and up-to-date. Further, it had Downing’s name on it, but it was in legal limbo since he had been murdered. Talon had no idea if Downing had a will or if he had family who would inherit the cabin. There were no other names on the ownership of this land. Could Magee have used that cabin?

  Once he jotted down the GPS, Talon quickly left the room and headed out of the courthouse. It was now nearly five o’clock. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed Cade Garner.

  “Garner here.”

  “Cade, it’s Talon. I’ve found the location of Downing’s cabin. It’s at Jackson Lake. I’m heading out there right now. Do you have anything yet?”

  “Negative. So far all the employees we’ve interviewed don’t have a clue about a cabin.”

  Talon heard the frustration in his voice. “Okay, I’m heading out there to see if I can find anything. I want to give you the GPS coordinates just in case.”

  “Go ahead….”

  By the time Talon reached his truck, he’d ended the call to Cade. His heart was aching with dread. With hope. He climbed inside the truck, and Zeke whined hello. Talon gave him a pat on the head. It would take forty-five minutes to drive up there. Glancing at the sun, he was glad it was early summer. There would be more light available for a longer period of time.

  Talon opened his glove box and took out a Glock 18, his pistol choice. It would stop a grizzly and it would stop a human. After putting bullets in the chamber, the safety left off, he set it on the seat beside him within easy reach. He had a permit to carry the firearm and would use it if necessary.

  As he drove out of town, he couldn’t stop thinking about worst-case scenarios. He wished he had a drone, eyes in the sky, to try to locate Cat’s truck. He wished he had his teammates, because SEALs always worked together. He had none of those things available to him. Except Zeke, who was a weapon of another kind. All he had were his wits, his knowledge and, more than anything, he needed some luck. As he drove out of town, he kept his eye out for Cat’s truck. There was every chance that Magee hadn’t taken her to that particular cabin. He looked down at his GPS unit and, once out of Jackson Hole, pushed his truck, breaking the speed limit going up the hill that would take him that much closer to Jackson Lake.

  Inwardly, Talon could feel Cat. It was that invisible connection between them. He could feel her panic, anxiety, and he wiped his mouth, trying to remain detached. If he let his emotions go, they would do nothing but distract him and he could miss something. God, he loved her.

  By the time he located the road, which was barely visible, Talon pulled off to the side, got out and checked what he thought were fresh tire tracks. He put the work leash on Zeke and the dog jumped out the door, his ears up, alert. It was nearly six o’clock, the thick woods making everything darker as the sun was in the west. He moved to the dirt and pine needles, which were mixed and disturbed. Kneeling down, he studied the tracks. It was wide, denoting it was probably a large vehicle. And the tread was fresh. Glancing up, he saw the road lead upward.

  The cabin was sure to sit at nine thousand feet and they were at seven thousand right now. Slowly standing, Talon oriented his hearing. There was a blue jay faintly calling, but otherwise, he heard nothing else. Mouth tightening, Talon opened t
he door to his truck, and Zeke jumped in. He left the leash on him and climbed into the vehicle.

  Not knowing what to expect, he crawled along the narrow one-lane dirt road. There was no place to turn around, the woods crowding right up to it. He kept the butt of the Glock toward his thigh in case he needed it in a hurry.

  Now in SEAL mode, Talon saw the huge cedar two-story cabin come into view around the long curve. He halted the truck, turned off the engine and got out. Talon let Zeke out, holding the leash. Sliding the Glock into his rear waistband of his Levi’s, he moved quickly and quietly on the side of the road, his gaze focused entirely on the cabin. Breathing harder because of the altitude, Talon moved silently. Zeke remained at his side, panting, waiting for a command.

  Near the door, Talon stopped and studied the soft, fine dirt. He gave Zeke a hand command to sit. The dog did so. There were tracks. Fresh ones. Moving around them, not wanting to disturb them, Talon cased the cabin. He looked into the windows along the one side but saw nothing. The cabin was dark. And quiet. It appeared no one was at it right now. Going to the main door, he drew the Glock. To his surprise, the doorknob twisted and the door opened. His heart rate amped up as he moved into his crouch, opening the door and swinging in, the Glock raised.

  Talon needed to clear every room on the first floor. He unleashed Zeke and gave him the signal to “seek.” The Belgian Malinois instantly moved like a silent shadow. Zeke went to the bathroom, shot out of it and ran down the hall, his claws clacking on the wooden floor. Talon watched, gun drawn, following the dog’s progress. Zeke reappeared, galloping toward him, panting. The dog shot past Talon. Frowning, Talon turned. Zeke moved toward the living room and stopped at a couch, whining, tail wagging.

  Talon’s heart thudded. There, hung over a chair was a denim vest. Talon thought it was Cat’s. But he couldn’t relax, couldn’t check it out until they’d completely cleared the entire cabin to make sure no one was here. Otherwise, he could be surprised and possibly shot by Magee. As soon as he gave Zeke the command, the dog bolted up the stairs. Talon followed, quickly making it to the second floor.

  To his surprise, all four doors were wide-open. Zeke took the first door on the right, disappearing inside. If the dog met any resistance, he would immediately attack whoever was in there. Talon knew he wouldn’t attack Cat, because she was a known quantity to his assault dog. Zeke dashed out of the door, spun to the left and dived into the second room on the right. Talon remained crouched, Glock aimed. Within a minute, Zeke had cleared the four rooms. There was no one in the cabin.

  Hurrying downstairs, Zeke as his side, Talon tucked the Glock in his waistband and went over to the vest.

  Zeke whined, looking up at him, tail wagging excitedly. Talon knew he could pick up Cat’s scent on the garment. His heart soared as he recognized the vest. It was Cat’s. His fingers curved around the soft material. Instinctively, he pressed it to his nose, inhaling her scent. There was no question it was Cat’s vest. So where was she?

  Her truck was not here. Neither was Magee’s. Talon knelt down on the concrete slab that was the entry into the cabin. The shade made it tougher to see the tracks, but he noticed two sets. One was much larger than the other. Bending down, he peered at the second set of tracks. His heart thudded. Cat wore special boots that firefighters used while on duty. The boot had a steel plate throughout the bottom. The reason, she had told him, was that if they stepped into burned, charred wood, no nails or metal could jam up into their foot by accident.

  Talon clearly remembered that her boot had a particular kind of tread. And as he studied the deep, fresh print in the disturbed soil, he knew it was Cat’s boot. Getting to his feet, he scowled. The larger boot track, which he assumed was Magee’s, moved out to the road and disappeared. Cat’s boot tracks, instead, moved around the end of the cabin.

  He put the vest to Zeke’s nose. “Smell,” he ordered the dog.

  Zeke sniffed it with his long, black nose.

  Talon pointed to Cat’s track. “Smell.”

  Zeke stuck his nose along where Talon had his finger. Talon wanted him to get a good scent on Cat. The dog whined and lifted his head, his brown eyes sparkling with excitement.

  “Yeah, it’s Cat,” he told the dog.

  Zeke’s tail pumped with renewed excitement.

  What the hell? Talon scowled as he continued to follow the prints. Had Cat escaped? He halted, turning and looking for Magee’s tracks along with hers.

  There were no other tracks.

  Lifting his chin, he saw how Cat’s tracks moved into the woods, heading in a southerly direction. That would be toward the highway two miles below them. The area was rough, rocky, and the pine needles dry and slippery. The shadows were deep, the gloom setting in because the sun was on the other side of the mountains.

  His mind spun with possibilities.

  Following her trail a little farther, Talon could tell she was running, the stride between each track much longer than if a person were walking somewhere. His hope amped up. Cat had escaped! He tried to still his excitement. She might be wounded. Squinting his eyes, looking for blood droplets or anything else to suggest Cat was hurt, Talon continued to follow the tracks for a little farther.

  No, she’s okay. She’s all right. More relief poured through him. His heart ached with hope. With dread. He needed to call Cade and give him the intel. Halting, Talon drew out his cell phone. It had two bars, not much. It was enough to connect with him.

  “She’s running toward the highway from what I can tell,” Talon told him.

  “But you didn’t see her truck? Magee?”

  “No.”

  “If Cat ran, then he’s probably hunting for her,” Cade said, worry in his tone.

  Talon’s mouth thinned. “Yeah, my thoughts, too.” He craned his neck, trying to look through the gloom of the forest. “What do you want to do?”

  “Cat’s trying to reach the road,” Cade said. “Trying to get help or get a ride back to Jackson Hole. We have to assume Magee took her cell phone, so she can’t call us. Why don’t you continue to track her? Use your dog. He’ll find her even faster. I’m going to get into the cruiser right now and head your direction. I’m bringing Shelby with me because she’s a tracker. We’ll try to watch for Cat’s truck on the way up. I don’t know how smart Magee is. We don’t know if he’s trolling the highway thinking she’s trying to reach it or not. He might be guessing she’s going to end up on that highway sooner or later. And then grab her.”

  Talon held on to his fear. “I was thinking along the same lines. He’s got her truck.”

  “Yeah,” Cade growled. “I’m going to call the sheriff up north in the bordering county and get him involved in this. If Magee doesn’t have her, he could also be using the truck to escape and leave the area.”

  It was a manhunt. Talon nodded. “I’m going back to my truck to get my gear and then I’ll start tracking her. I’ll be in touch.”

  “Right,” Cade agreed.

  Talon shoved the cell into his pocket, turned on his heel and ran back to where his truck was parked. As a SEAL, he always carried a rucksack. And it was something he’d never be without. He quickly checked for things he knew he’d need. Among them, a flashlight because as the sun set around eight he’d need it to keep hunting for her tracks. There were four bottles of water in his rucksack, along with protein bars. That would keep him going for a long time. Also, first-aid items, which Talon hoped he wouldn’t have to use any of. He threw the bag over his shoulders, belted up and kept the Glock in his right hand.

  As he trotted past the cabin, Talon halted. Zeke stood at his side, his eyes on the forest ahead of them. Should he loose the dog and have him follow the track? Zeke had no armored protection, which an assault dog always wore. And he had an injured shoulder. Did he want to risk his dog like that? What if Magee found Cat? Talon knew Zeke could swiftly follow her trail, find her and keep her safe. And if Magee had her, Zeke would instantly pick up on the fact Cat was afraid and he’d att
ack the man who had her. If he gave Zeke the signal.

  Talon was torn. He couldn’t keep up with Zeke when he was on a scent. Almost always, he remained with him on the leash. Zeke would find her. He knew he would. And that would let Cat know he was nearby, coming to rescue her. Further, with grizzly always a danger, Zeke would protect Cat from any possible attack. He leaned down, his hands on his dog’s head, looking into his eyes.

  “Zeke, find Cat. Seek.” He put his finger into her boot track.

  The dog instantly woofed the scent. His tail wagged strongly and Zeke looked up at him, his huge brown eyes glinting with excitement.

  Talon unsnapped the leash. “Seek,” he ordered his dog.

  Instantly, Zeke shot off into the forest, running hard and following the fresh scent. Talon watched him disappear among the trees. He felt some relief. Zeke would find Cat. Now he had to move as fast as he could and, eventually, catch up. Talon trotted alongside Cat’s tracks, watching as she angled down the long slope. He’d grown up in this area and he knew the land well. This particular hill was long and gentle, so she could make good time, gravity pushing her.

  There was one fly in the ointment, besides Magee. This whole area was rife with grizzly bears. Each bear had a territory and would often cover twenty to thirty miles a day, looking for food. It was early July and the bears had just come out of hibernation and they were hungry. Both Cat and Zeke were easy prey.

  Talon felt urgency thrumming through him. Many of the rocks were hidden beneath a six-inch layer of dried pine needles. He tripped often. And he could see where Cat had tripped, the needles and dirt torn up where she had fallen. It wasn’t easy going although, on the surface, it appeared to be.

  And where was Magee? Slowly driving up and down the road below this area? Talon hoped he’d left the area. He knew Cat was smart and, if nothing else, she could flag down a motorist and get help. All she needed was a cell phone. Cat could then call him. Call Cade. God, he hoped she was able to make it down to the highway.