Hell's Highway

by Gerri Hill

  “Cliffs?”

  “She tends to fall off them.”

  “I heard that,” Cameron said. “How’s the girl?”

  “Still out.”

  “Rowan? You call for backup?” Cameron asked.

  “No, ma’am. Not until you give the word.”

  “Ma’am? Haven’t we been over that?”

  “Sorry.”

  “Andi, if an ambulance has been dispatched, chances are a unit or two will follow. You and Eric keep them there. I don’t want a bunch of deputies with guns running out here.”

  “Copy that,” Eric said.

  “Will you please not do anything stupid?” Andrea asked.

  “Like you said, there aren’t any cliffs around.” Andrea heard the sound of gravel and assumed Cameron’s wrist microphone was dragging along the desert floor. “Reynolds? Can you see anything?”

  “I can see stars.”

  Andrea smiled at Cameron’s heavy sigh.

  “Yeah? Try lying on your stomach and looking this way.”

  Again, rustling sounds and Andrea found she was gripping Eric’s arm tightly.

  “I think I can make out the car. There’s a dark spot to my left, about seventy-five yards or so.”

  “That’s it,” Cameron said. “I’m southeast of the car, only about twenty-five yards from him.”

  Andrea’s eyes widened. Twenty-five yards? “She’s an idiot,” she whispered to Eric.

  “I can’t make out anything that looks like rocks,” Reynolds said. “Everything is just dark.”

  Cameron sighed again. “When we get out of this, would someone remind me to buy another set of goggles? This is fucking ridiculous to be blind out here. Baskin has a pair of goggles, Reynolds. Why the hell don’t you?”

  “Is now the time to be discussing this?”

  “This isn’t really a discussion. I’m just pointing out the obvious.”

  “Is she always like this?” Eric asked.

  Andrea nodded. “Pretty much, yeah.”

  “Okay, here’s the plan,” she said.

  “Great. You have one. That’s progress,” Reynolds said.

  “It involves you getting shot at.”

  “Of course it does.”

  “I’m going to fire four rounds at him. When he starts to return fire, you get up and run to your left—west—and start firing. You’ll need to do a fast tuck and roll. There’s enough of an incline there that he won’t have a good angle on you. When he returns your fire, I’m going up around him from the back.”

  “You’ll be out in the open.”

  “Yes. But hopefully he’ll think I’m still behind the rocks. You have to keep him occupied.”

  “I’m not crazy about this plan,” he said.

  “It’s all I got.” She put a new clip in her gun and slammed it in. “You ready?”

  There was only a slight pause. “Yeah. Go.”

  “God, I hope this works,” she murmured before raising her hand above the rocks and firing four quick shots at the car. Baskin returned her fire as expected.

  Within seconds, Reynolds was shooting. She watched as he ran west then when Baskin took aim at Reynolds, she sprinted away from the cover of the rock pile, her eyes glued to the car and Baskin. It seemed to unfold in slow motion—Reynolds shooting while he ran before falling from her view, Baskin taking aim at Reynolds then firing haphazardly at the rock pile again, she dodging a barrel cactus and a small creosote bush while she circled behind him.

  She could see him crouched low against the driver’s side door but she didn’t have a clean shot. Her chest heaved from her sprint and her breath sounded loud in her ears. She slowly took her flashlight out, intending to use it to blind him, anything to give her a few more seconds. As if sensing her presence, he tilted his head, listening. Then he jerked around, a handgun replacing the rifle she expected.

  She shot once, doing her own tuck and roll as he returned fire, feeling the whir of the bullet as it passed close to her head. The flashlight fell uselessly from her grip as she landed on the desert floor. Blindly, she fired again, four, five quick bursts, her shots ricocheting off the metal with loud clanks before one finally found her target.

  He fell face down, the gun still clutched in his hand, his fingers loosening and tightening reflexively. She got up, her eyes trained on him, gun aimed at his head.

  “Reynolds? You okay?”

  “Yeah. You?”

  “I think so.”

  “Baskin?”

  “He’s down. I’m moving in.”

  Andrea was afraid Eric would have a bruise on his arm where she’d been clutching him for the last several minutes. She sighed with relief at the sound of Cameron’s voice, finally releasing her hold on him.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “No problem. We need to go show them the way.”

  “Huh?”

  “The ambulance.”

  Only then did she hear the wail of sirens, her focus had been solely on Cameron. She nodded. “You go. I’ll stay with her.”

  The woman was still out and they had not tried to wake her. They’d found her clothes in a bag and had debated whether to cover her or not. They finally decided evidence wouldn’t be needed and they’d covered her the best they could.

  Eric was just leading the EMTs in when more gunfire was heard. They both instinctively touched their earbuds, their eyes flying together.

  “What the hell?”

  Andrea took off in a fast run, Eric on her heels.

  She kicked the gun from his hand, then nudged him. When there was no movement, she almost let her guard down. Almost. But Patrick Doe’s face came to mind, the knife he’d hidden from her. So she took a step back, adjusting the goggles as she looked for Reynolds. She felt sweat trickling down her face and she raised her hand to wipe it away. In that instant, he rolled over, a bright flashlight flooding her goggles, rendering her blind.

  She ripped at the goggles, her eyes feeling like they were on fire. She heard him scrambling, knew he was looking for the gun she’d kicked away. She fired—once, twice, a third time.

  “Goddamn it. Reynolds?” she yelled. “I need backup.”

  She hit the ground, rolling away, not knowing where she was...or more importantly, where he was. As shots rang out around her, she curled into a ball, covering herself, blinking feverishly, trying to clear her vision.

  “Cameron? Where are you?”

  “Reynolds?”

  “I’m here.”

  She squinted in the darkness, her vision finally clearing. “Where is he?” She shielded her eyes as he flashed his light around them.

  “He’s not here.” Reynolds bent down. “Blood. Not much.”

  “Goddamn bastard had a vest on. Burke’s vest.” She followed his light, a few blood drops splattered on the sand, farther apart now. “He’s running,” she said, pointing to a smeared footprint. She looked up, following the direction of the footprint. “He’s heading back to the water park.” She looked at her wristband, gritty with sand. She tapped it, not getting any feedback in her ear. “Mine’s dead. Find out where they are.”

  “Eric? Andrea? You copy?”

  Cameron listened, hearing nothing. Then, finally, the sound of heavy breathing. Her eyes met Reynolds’s, recognition dawning on them both. “Son of a bitch,” she murmured, turning and running back toward the water park.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  It happened so fast. One minute they were running, being swallowed by the darkness, Eric passing her with his long strides. The next—Eric lay sprawled on the ground, the blow to the head knocking him unconscious. She instinctively grabbed her gun but it was too late. Leonard Baskin grabbed her from behind, knocking the gun from her grip, a dirty hand covering her mouth, silencing her scream.

  “I told you I was going to fuck you, remember? Fuck you until you bleed,” he whispered, his voice thick, uneven.

  She struggled against him, kicking his legs, his shin, but he lifted her off the ground and slammed her
down hard. She landed next to Eric, her vision swimming as she tried to clear her head. Focus...focus, her mind screamed at her. Blindly, she reached for Eric, trying to find his gun. She found his combat knife instead, grabbing it only seconds before she was jerked up again, face to face with Baskin, his foul breath heavy, a calloused hand squeezing painfully against her neck, cutting off her oxygen.

  She blinked several times, trying to draw breath...trying to find the strength to finish this. She tightened her grip on the knife, bringing it up low, under the vest she knew he wore. With one quick burst, she sliced through him, his hands loosening on her throat immediately. Sucking down greats gulps of air, she pulled the knife out, only to plunge it in again, harder. She felt his blood on her hands, the warm liquid flowing freely from his gut.

  She pushed him away, enough light for her to see disbelief in his eyes.

  “You bitch,” he gasped. “How dare you?” He coughed, the sound garbled. “How...how dare you?”

  He stumbled forward, taking one last lunge at her. Then a sound pierced the night—gunfire. He was knocked sideways from the shot, his head nearly exploding from the direct hit. Andrea fell backwards to the ground, landing again next to Eric, her eyes searching the darkness, seeing two shadows moving toward her.

  “Andi?”

  She squeezed her eyes, letting out a relieved breath. “Took you long enough,” she said.

  “Had a little equipment malfunction,” Cameron said, dangling her night vision goggles from her fingers. She squatted down beside her. “Are you injured?”

  “No. But Eric took a blow to the head,” she said, reaching for him now. She felt the wet stickiness of blood on his face. “Flashlight?”

  Reynolds shone his light on Eric, his previously stitched wound open again and bleeding freely. His pulse was strong, his breathing even.

  “Knocked out cold,” Cameron murmured.

  Reynolds held his wrist to his mouth. “Rowan? You copy?”

  “Yes. Your communication has been spotty. Is everyone okay?”

  “Cameron’s mic bit the dust. It didn’t work out exactly as planned,” he said, his glance landing on Cameron. “But the end result is the same. Call it in, Rowan. Leonard Baskin is dead.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  “I could sleep another hour or three,” Andrea said as she stretched under the covers, her hands coming to rest on Cameron’s stomach.

  Cameron turned, faced her and twined their legs together as she pulled Andrea closer. “I’m just ready to get the hell out of here,” she said. “I want to see some trees. Something green. I want some cool air, not this damn desert heat.”

  “Will you settle for junipers and cottonwood trees around Sedona?”

  “Yes. At least it’ll be cooler there.”

  Andrea leaned closer and kissed her. “Murdock is really giving us a week?”

  “At least a week, maybe more. Depends on what comes up.”

  “Let’s hope our next case does not involve a serial killer. They suck.”

  Cameron brushed her fingertips across Andrea’s nipple, watching in fascination as it hardened. She let her hand drift higher, lightly touching the bruising around her neck, feeling angry all over again that that monster had his hands on Andrea like that.

  “Don’t,” Andrea murmured. “I’m fine.”

  Cameron pulled her eyes from the bruising, finding Andrea’s instead. “I realize that no matter how hard I try, I can’t always protect you,” she said in a near whisper. “I also realize that I don’t always have to. You’re strong. You’re smart. You can take care of yourself,” she admitted.

  “You say that as if it’s a bad thing,” Andrea said.

  “It’s because I want to protect you. I want to be the strong one.”

  “Are you afraid I won’t need you then?” Andrea guessed. “That I won’t need you as much?”

  Cameron sighed. “I was always so...so empty,” she said. “I always felt that way. Even when I was younger, it was like something was missing, something I couldn’t put my finger on. When I met Laurie, she was so full of life, so happy, I thought I’d found it.” She rolled to her back, staring at the ceiling, letting in memories of the woman she’d loved so long ago. “I know now that I hadn’t. She was a pleasant distraction from my life. I loved her.” Cameron turned to Andrea. “But it wasn’t like this. She didn’t completely fill that empty spot. You do.” She reached over, tracing Andrea’s lips lightly. “I need you. And it scares me sometimes to think that you don’t need me like that.”

  “Sweetheart, I do need you like that. You equate it to feeling empty. For me, it was more like I was drifting, never finding a place to land, never feeling that pull from someone.” Andrea moved closer, her lips brushing against Cameron’s mouth. “You pulled me, Cameron. You are the one who grabbed my heart and I let you take it and run. I need you for so many things, not just emotionally and physically. I need your presence—I need to see you, to be near you, to touch you. I need you as much as I need air to breathe.” She smiled slightly, hers eyes locking with Cameron’s. “And sometimes I need you to shoot bad guys.”

  They stood in the hotel lobby, the five of them sharing glances and smiles. It had been a hell of a case and they’d grown close in a short period of time. Eric sported a white bandage on his head, his wound stitched for the second time. The rock Baskin had hit him with had nearly cracked his skull.

  Cameron smiled as Andrea touched his cheek lovingly, then stared in shock as Andrea kissed him full on the mouth.

  “Excuse me?” she said with raised eyebrows. “Something I should know?”

  “Oh, hush,” Andrea said as she pulled Eric into a hug. “You,” she said to him, “take care of yourself. I won’t be around to watch your back.”

  “Maybe I should say the same to you.” He pointed at his head. “I seem to take the brunt of it.”

  “Yes. I like it that way.”

  Cameron turned to Rowan, squeezing his shoulder. “If I had more room in the rig, I’d steal you away from Reynolds. You did a great job. We couldn’t have done this without you.”

  He blushed freely and shoved his glasses up higher on his nose. “Thank you. I enjoyed working with you. Thanks for letting me play with your computers.”

  “You’re welcome. And maybe the next time I get stuck on something, I’ll call you instead of Jason.” Her phone buzzed and she glanced at it, grinning. “Speaking of,” she said. “I’m pretty sure this is for you.” She handed him the phone which he stared at like it was a foreign object.

  “Jason? For me? The Jason?”

  “Take the damn phone,” she said, watching as he turned away in embarrassment, the phone held tightly to his ear.

  “Yes. I’m Rowan,” he said as he walked farther away from them. “Oh...wow.”

  “I think he has a crush,” she said.

  “I thought he was straight,” Eric said.

  “So is Jason.”

  “Ah,” he said. “It’s a computer thing.”

  “Well,” Reynolds said with a sigh. “No rest for the weary.”

  “Where are you off to?” Andrea asked.

  “Portland. There’s been a kidnapping that’s gotten ugly.”

  “Just the three of you?” Cameron asked.

  He nodded. “Gonna keep the team small, I think. For a while.”

  Cameron touched his arm. “I’m sorry about Jack and Carina,” she said. “It’s tough.”

  “Yeah. But it’s something we face every day with this job. We all know that.”

  Cameron took a step away from him before she did something stupid, like hugged him. “Well, I guess this is it. You guys—” She frowned, finally looking them over. “What the hell, Reynolds? You’re in jeans? Real jeans? Not even super starched?” She laughed. “You loosening up your rules?”

  He smiled. “You were right, Agent Ross. We’re not typical FBI agents, with our suits and ties and expensive shoes. This case taught me that. You taught me that. Sometimes y
ou have to get down and dirty. Sometimes you have to break the rules.”

  She finally gave in, giving him a quick but tight hug. “Special Agent Ross,” she corrected.

  “Of course.”

  He turned to Andrea who did not hesitate in giving him a hug, hers much longer than Cameron’s.

  “Thank you for everything, Reynolds. It was a pleasure working with you,” Andrea said. “I hope we meet again.”

  “Thank you. I wish you the best of luck.” He glanced at Cameron and smiled. “You’ll need it.”

  Cameron laughed with the others, and then stood by Andrea as they left. Rowan, after returning her phone, gave Andrea a hug but held his hand out to Cameron. She took it, squeezing tightly, then pulled him in close, causing the young man to blush again before hurrying after the others.

  “I’m going to miss them,” Andrea said, almost wistfully.

  “Surprisingly, I am too,” she said. She nudged Andrea’s shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  Andrea linked their arms together as they headed out into the desert heat. The rig was parked illegally on the curb, the generator running, keeping it cool. Her truck was hitched behind it, all ready to hit the road. She glanced up into the endless blue sky, not a single cloud in sight. As a drop of sweat trickled down her face she wiped it away with a smile.

  “Can’t say I’m going to miss this place.”

  “Me either. Come on, Sedona is calling.”

  Her phone buzzed again and she stood at the door to the rig, grabbing it from her pocket as Andrea went in ahead of her. Murdock. She sighed, then answered after letting out a deep breath.

  “This better be good.”

  “Cameron? Say, just how set are you on this Sedona trip?”

  “Are you kidding me? Whatever it is, no.”

  “It won’t take long, I promise. Just a quick trip into Nevada.”

  “Nevada? Do you know how hot it is in Nevada?”

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