by Sue Lyndon
Mountain Devil
Sue Lyndon
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are fictitious or have been used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real in any way. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Published By:
Etopia Press
P.O. Box 66
Medford, OR 97501
http://www.etopia-press.net
Mountain Devil
Copyright © 2012 by Sue Lyndon
ISBN: 978-1-937976-02-6
Edited by Jennifer Fitzpatrick
Cover by Mina Carter
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Etopia Press electronic publication: January 2012
Chapter One
Raw pain coursed through Ella Emerson’s chest and emptied into the twisted knot that was her stomach. She had been so stupid. She was in over her head.
Agreeing to marry Brandon Andrews was probably the worst mistake of Ella’s life thus far. She lay awake in her bed and stared solemnly at the wedding dress hung on the closet door. In twelve hours, she would officially become Mrs. Ella Andrews. The thought of her own wedding brought fresh tears to her eyes. Stubbornly, she wiped the salty moisture away, determined to enjoy the last few hours before repeating marriage vows in front of three hundred wedding guests.
Heat lightning flashed outside, and Ella sat up to witness the wondrous display of light against the Catoctin Mountains. Her mind traveled back two weeks, to her solo hiking trip on those mountains.
She’d explored every trail, some of them twice, until her legs had ached and burned. Brandon had scoffed when she’d invited him along. “Hiking is for tree huggers,” he’d said. No, she’d thought, hiking is for me. This is how I’ll escape you for a whole day.
The lightning flashed again, casting a brief wave of white over Ella’s closet—and the damned wedding dress that was too heavy to wear in this ungodly August heat. She’d picked the first design she’d liked back in January, without giving too much thought to anything else. But the wedding dress was the least of her problems right now.
Brandon Andrews was a pig. There was hardly a pretty girl left in Catoctin that hadn’t caught his eye, and he acted like he was above everyone, including Ella. But he was generally well liked because at the age of ten, he’d saved a small child from choking.
Back then, it was all the local news talked about for a good week. Ella figured it was probably the only good deed of Brandon’s life.
Even before that episode, Ella’s and Brandon’s parents had conspired to get them together. Although Ella considered herself a strong person, she’d crumbled under pressure to allow Brandon to court her and accept his marriage proposal. Sure, he was attractive and successful, but Ella loathed him with her entire being, especially after his public marriage proposal.
At her college graduation party in May, Brandon had proposed on bended knee in front of two hundred guests. Ella had hesitated for only a moment, as the burn of all those eager eyes scorched her own desires away, before accepting with a quiet yes.
Since Brandon’s older sister was a wedding planner and Ella had finished school, a quick marriage at the end of summer only seemed natural.
Three hundred guests would gather on the huge lawn behind the Andrews’ house at 3:00 p.m. to witness the long-anticipated union.
Again and again the lightning flashed. The mountains lit up. The wedding dress lit up. Again and again until Ella’s head spun with fatigue and dread, so much dread. How foolish I’ve been, she thought. She’d led Brandon on and on until there was no refusing his proposal. Her lips had said yes even though her mind screamed no.
For a fleeting moment, she wondered if she deserved this fate. Yes, she’d dug her own grave, so perhaps she should stop lingering in doubt and jump right in.
Another silent flash of white jarred her out of self-pity. Reason kicked in and her mind screamed NO
with as much determination as she should have two months ago after Brandon’s proposal. No, I will not become Mrs. Ella Andrews!
Maybe the heat lightning was fated to coincide with the eve of her wedding, because the constant flashes against the mountains caused an idea to blossom. The mountains themselves called her name.
She couldn’t escape via her car, not when the keys were downstairs hanging above the creaking floor.
But she could pack up her hiking gear and hop out a window. She could spend a few days alone where no one would think to look. When all the out-of-town guests departed and Brandon was too humiliated to consider marrying her still, she could wander home.
The lightning flashed again. There were stabs of guilt from all directions, twisting harshly into Ella’s heart. Her parents would worry…no one deserved to be stood up at the altar…dozens and dozens of guests had been flown in from across the country…and…
Before those stabs of guilt pierced deeply enough to change her mind, Ella gathered her hiking gear and dressed. Before second thoughts overpowered her rashness, Ella scaled down the roof and jumped onto the soft lawn from a garage windowsill, quiet as the stillness of night. Before she’d thought of leaving a note, Ella was a mile through the woods on her personal path that led toward the welcome center of the Catoctin Mountains where a handful of hiking trails branched away. Up and down the hills she went until she reached the bridge, tiny flashlight in hand.
A snake slithered into the bushes, shimmering in the beam of her flashlight, and Ella shuddered. But her pace didn’t falter, even as a wild screech overpowered the shrilling pulse of locusts and chirping crickets. Some locals claimed bobcats and bears roamed the mountain, though Ella had never seen one herself. Don’t be scared, she told herself.
There were granola bars and two bottles of water in her pack. Enough to survive on for a little while, not to mention about a hundred dollars cash if she ventured near civilization. She wouldn’t dare use her debit or credit cards though, not while she wished to remain unfound. And as paranoid as she was about being tracked, she’d left her cell phone behind.
At the edge of the path before the bridge, Ella rested against a large tree, planning to huddle against it until sunrise. Despite her gallant effort to remain conscious, her heavy eyelids closed as she drifted off farther and farther, feeling a strange mix of worry, happiness, and foolishness as sleep flooded her senses.
* * *
Ed Peters wasn’t happy. For three days, escaped convict Chuck Dearing had given him the runaround over the mountains. Dearing’s reward had been increased to $25,000 for information leading to his capture. But a bounty hunter like Ed Peters always brought convicts in himself. There was no satisfaction in collecting a reward not fully earned. Ed planned to earn those five figures fair and square.
His pack was heavy with a small tent, nonperishable foods, and enough water to carry him through another two days on the mountain. Chuck Dearing wasn’t prepared for such a long stay in the wilderness. No, Chuck
would soon grow desperate.
And desperate men were the easiest to catch—and the most dangerous. Ed could handle danger though.
The forest swelled with the melodies of singing birds, and Ed couldn’t hear any man nearby, but the escaped convict wasn’t far ahead. Size ten footprints were sealed along the hiking trail and led down toward civilization. Toward the winding road and the welcome center. Chuck Dearing was hungry and thirsty after being tracked for two days around the mountain. The convict was heading toward people, and with nothing to lose but freedom, the murderer wouldn’t hesitate to take another life for something as simple as a hiker’s lunch.
Moisture hugged the bottom of Ed’s boots as he wound through the underbrush. The rising sun cast streams of warm light between the tall trees. Already, Ed knew the day would be hot and humid. But at
least there’s no fog this morning, he thought as he hopped over a rock.
His spirits rose as he discovered a fresh footprint below, another size ten. Today would be the day he caught Chuck Dearing. Along with $25,000. Not a bad payday for a retired cop.
Although Ed was retired, he didn’t consider himself old. Not usually. He’d spent twenty years to the day in the force, and had retired at forty-one.
Now he was forty-three, and with his pension and side business catching wanted criminals, he made a very good living.
Ed had been tracking Chuck Dearing, who was last spotted trying to hitchhike two miles away from the Catoctin Mountain Welcome Center, for the last two days. And, truth be told, lurking through the forest on the tail of a criminal wasn’t so bad. It beat the usual places he ended up: dark alleys, seedy bars, houses of ill repute, or neighborhoods crawling with drug dealers and thieves.
Out of breath, Ed stopped for a swig from his bottle. The water was cool going down, and he took a long swipe at his mouth afterward. Just as he fixed the bottle on the pack, a scream pierced through the forest noise. A woman’s scream—dead ahead on a lower hiking trail.
Adrenaline kicked in, and Ed bolted down the mountain, jumping over fallen trees and peeling through the underbrush. Someone was in trouble, though he suspected it was only a hiker. Probably a snakebite or a twisted ankle.
But the screaming only intensified, and what Ed saw when he cleared the hill caused him to run faster.
“Hey, Dearing, you son of bitch!” he shouted. “Leave the woman alone!”
On the trail below, the criminal worth $25,000
was trying to rip a backpack off a woman. The woman fell facedown in the dirt, clutching the straps of her backpack while trying to crawl forward. Ed didn’t understand why she couldn’t just surrender the backpack. All Chuck probably wanted was food and water.
When Dearing realized Ed was closing in, he favored an animal frozen in headlights for one moment before bolting through the woods and toward the god-awful winding road that cut through this part of the mountain.
Ed stopped over the woman, and she looked up with terrified eyes. “Are you all right?” he asked, kneeling down, but keeping one eye on Dearing.
She coughed and touched her throat. Ed suspected the bastard had tried chocking her. “I—I’m alive,” she said hoarsely but made no move to stand.
A surge of anger shot through Ed as he looked at her little backpack. Not giving the backpack up was foolish, damn foolish. If he hadn’t come along just now…
“I’ll be back soon. Stay here,” Ed ordered, shrugging off his own backpack to race downhill through the woods. Dearing was still within visual range, and Ed was a fast runner. He was close…so close.
His target jumped over fallen trees and rocks swiftly, but Ed quickly gained ground. The welcome center neared, and Ed hoped Dearing wouldn’t bother anyone else. That poor girl along the path was probably scared out her mind.
But the parking lot was closer than Ed had realized, and Dearing sprinted across it right into a trap. Police cruisers sped through the lot, surrounding the criminal from all sides. Chuck Dearing went down without a fight, hands held high as he peacefully gave himself up.
Twenty-five thousand dollars had just slipped through Ed Peters’s fingers.
Swallowing his bitterness, Ed retraced his steps uphill, toward the poor girl and his abandoned pack.
But when Ed reached the path, the girl was missing, along with his food and water supply. The ex-cop couldn’t help but smile at the irony of the situation.
He’d stopped long enough to make sure the girl was OK, allowing Chuck Dearing a head start, only to be robbed by the girl he’d saved.
Ed’s smile faded as he considered the situation further. No ordinary hiker would steal food and water. No, this girl must’ve needed it badly. But why?
As he followed the girl’s obvious trail up the mountain, Ed called his ex-partner’s son. The kid had a knack for being able to locate sensitive information in a crunch. Ed paid a fair price for his services.
“Hello, Randy?” Ed kept his eyes trained on the forest as he spoke.
“Boss! What’s up? Catch that Dearing guy yet?” Randy sounded as chipper as ever.
“No…someone else got to him first,” Ed admitted, feeling the bitterness creep back. “Listen, Randy, I need some information. Send me everything you can find about any recent missing women in the area. Ages eighteen to twenty-five. Wanted criminals, runaways, missing persons, anything.”
“No problem, boss! I’m on it!” the chipper voice replied.
Ed hung up and followed the girl’s path through the waking forest. Instantly, he could tell her footprints were size seven. She couldn’t have gotten too far ahead on those little feet of hers. To his shock, the footprints continued along the hiking trail.
Apparently, she didn’t know well enough to escape into the trees.
It wasn’t long before Ed’s cell phone buzzed.
Randy was one fast kid. The first information was a missing nineteen year old from Frostburg, but with blond hair. Definitely not the right girl. The second set of information was a twenty-four year old redhead wanted for questioning in a bank robbery. Nope, still not the right girl. But the third set of information on Ed’s cell phone screen was a scanning of a flyer. A pretty brown-eyed brunette with freckles named Ella Emerson, along with the words “Missing: $10,000
reward for information.”
Ed’s heart almost stopped. The girl who’d cost him $25,000 and stolen from his backpack was missing, probably a runaway—and there was a $10,000 reward for information leading to Ella Emerson’s whereabouts.
Jackpot.
Ed quickened his pace along the path, determined to catch this troublesome brunette and earn some of his money back in the process.
* * *
Ella Emerson raced along the rocky hiking trail and hoped no one was following. Her throat ached from the brutality of the first man, and the horrible memory drove her legs faster. Though the second man had saved her, she was smart enough not to stick around. It was 9:30 a.m. and she had no desire to be caught by anyone. At least not until after 3:00 p.m.—
long after 3:00 p.m. No way was she going to become Mrs. Ella Andrews.
No way in hell.
She ran until her side ached and her mouth tasted like pennies. A glance over her shoulder proved she was alone in the forest, save for the squirrels and noisy birds. In desperate need of a break, she hopped off the trail behind a wide tree and caught her breath.
She crouched down with a bottle of stolen water.
Not once in her life had she stolen anything from anyone. But she’d consumed her last bottle of water and couldn’t help but notice the second man’s discarded backpack. Impulsively, Ella had ransacked it for food and water, and took off up the path…as far away as possible.
For the thousandth time this morning, she chided herself for falling asleep against the tree. Her intention of getting an early start up the mountain was ruined. Not only that, but she’d almost gotten killed by some crazy man who’d demanded her backpack. Before today, she’d always imagined
she’d hand over her wallet or anything else a thief demanded. But today wasn’t just any day. Today she was hiding from her family and friends—and horrible fiancé. That backpack was necessary to survive another day or two on the mountain.
Ella chugged half of the water in the bottle and leaned against the tree. The burning in her throat had lessened, but she was still shaken. In fact, she realized, she was shaking, physically shaking. The hands holding the water bottle were unsteady, and tremors riddled her arms and legs. She felt exhausted and weak, as if she were made of jelly.
It was then that Ella burst into tears. She sobbed into her hands as worrisome thoughts raced through her mind. By now, her parents and family would know she was missing. A pang of regret clutched her heart at the thought of her family, and even Brandon.
She should’ve left a note. Why hadn’t she left a note?
The heat lightning had been mesmerizing last night. Hell, it had been downright hypnotic, like a catalyst to her rash action. Running away was the boldest thing she’d ever done.
One main thought had propelled her out the window: Brandon Andrews was not the right man for her. Sure, they’d grown up together. But only because their parents forced them to be playmates. Even as a child, Brandon had been a jerk, the subtle playground bully, the popular kid who made up nicknames for everyone. And once, when Ella was eight, he’d set her hair on fire and claimed he’d caught her playing with matches.
Yes, she thought, Brandon Andrews is a pig.
As Ella convinced herself that everything would be OK—eventually—she rose up and peered around the wide tree. At the top of the path there was a huge rock overlooking a valley. She could spend hours sitting there, far away from the welcome center and most other hikers.
But just as Ella reached for her backpack, a firm hand clamped over her mouth. Instantly, she was pressed firmly against the tree by a large, muscular body.
A man—the second man, she realized—glared down at her with icy blue eyes. Her stomach flipped.
She tried to squirm and kick, it was useless. His body was pressed so firmly against hers that she could smell him and feel his warm breath fanning against her cheeks.
