Pursued

by Patricia H. Rushford

  Rocky raised an eyebrow. “Undercover. Beaumont hired me to protect Allison and investigate the case during my off hours. If you really want to help, Jennie, I’d suggest you join the others and pretend we never had this conversation.”

  Relieved to have her questions about Rocky answered and knowing he was with them gave Jennie an opportunity to relax. The scenery along the river was spectacular. The trail snaked through giant firs, cedars, and mossy undergrowth. She stopped frequently to take snapshots of wild flowers, the river, and the group. At one point on the trail Michael shushed them and pointed through the forest to a doe and her two fawns. With the telephoto lens Jennie got several close-ups. Ryan would be sorry he missed it.

  Six miles and a couple dozen photos later, they reached the falls area where they were to rendezvous with Mom, Aunt Kate, and the other non-hikers. Jennie’s legs felt like rubber. They still had about four miles to go before they reached the Curly Creek area, and she hoped the brief rest and lunch would revive her.

  Michael and Uncle Kevin had dropped back to prod Allison and Lisa along. Jerry, Ed, and Brad had reached the falls and had crossed the river on a fallen log by the time Jennie and B.J. arrived. “Is this the only way across?” Jennie asked, peering at the wildly churning river as it rolled under the log, then dumped itself over a fifty-foot cliff only a couple of yards beyond her. “I’ve seen balance beams wider than that log. You sure it’s not rotten?” Somehow she’d imagined they’d cross over on a nice sturdy bridge—with sides.

  Ed, Jerry, and Brad, complaining that they were near starvation, disappeared along the trail that led to the parking area.

  “I don’t know,” Jennie said to B.J. above the roar of the falls. “I think we should wait for the others.”

  “You can wait. I’m going across.” B.J. stepped onto the log and darted across as if she’d done it a hundred times before. She slipped on the last step but managed to make it onto the mossy bank.

  “Come on across, McGrady,” B.J. called. “It’s a piece of cake.”

  Jennie took a deep breath and stepped onto the log. She tried not to look at the water rushing beneath her.

  You can do it, McGrady. Just concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other. She took two more steps, wobbled slightly, and put her arms out for balance. “Jennie, don’t!” Michael yelled from the riverbank. “It’s too…”

  Crack! The log exploded under her. Jennie plunged into the icy water. She struggled for a foothold and clawed at the rocks and roots as the river dragged her along. Her head popped out of the water. Jennie took a deep breath. The river sucked her under again and she felt herself going over the edge.

  You’re going to die, McGrady. Instinctively, she tucked her body into a ball to lessen the impact. Falling, falling. Her shoulder hit bottom first, then her leg. This is it. Jennie waited for the inevitable. Any minute she’d float away and an angel would greet her and take her to heaven.

  Jennie needed air. What was going on? She’d gone over the falls with thousands of gallons of water. Been dashed against the rocks. Had she already died? Was God just going to leave her there? Or banish her to…Wait a minute. She was still holding her breath. Her lungs ached and she was ready to explode. That meant she had to be alive. You won’t be for long, McGrady. She couldn’t hold her breath much longer. Her maximum time was about two minutes.

  Her shoulder brushed against something solid and flat. Jennie reached for it, but the water pulled her away.

  Something sharp scraped at her leg. Jennie grabbed at it and connected. As she followed the ledge her head surfaced. Jennie hauled in as much of the moist air as her lungs would hold, then using her handhold for a step, hoisted herself farther out of the water.

  It was dark and damp. She’d surfaced in a cave behind the falls. The icy mountain water had turned the cave into a refrigerator. She shivered. The river had eaten her alive. Her fingers tingled from numbness. Her head ached. From somewhere in the depths of her memory bank, Jennie dredged up the word, hypothermia. A condition where the body temperature drops to dangerously low levels. Jennie couldn’t remember how long it took. Fifteen minutes, maybe twenty.

  She let her backpack slip from her shoulders, unhooked the belt around her waist, and hauled the pack around in front of her. After managing to undo the ties, Jennie dragged out her soggy clothes, then reached for the airtight container. She bet Michael hadn’t had this kind of emergency in mind when he’d made the kit mandatory gear.

  Jennie fumbled with the flashlight. Her fingers, numbed by the cold, refused to work, so she pushed the switch forward with her teeth. The beam bounced off steep jagged walls. Water thundered from the precipice high above her head and spilled into a deep pool. With the volume and force of water, she’d never make it to the other side of the falls. She’d been lucky the first time. No way would she try it again.

  “Don’t get me wrong, God,” she murmured. “I’m thankful to be alive, but you gotta help me find a way out of here.” Jennie shuddered. “And soon.” The cold had penetrated through to her bones and Jennie had begun to shiver uncontrollably. A massive curtain of water enclosed the cavern. To her left, the rushing water hugged the rocks, making it impossible to pass. To her right, the falls curved around and disappeared behind a rock wall. Jennie inched forward. Letting her body slide back into the icy water, she followed the rock wall around the corner to get a better look. At the far right of the falls, a jagged outcropping of rock penetrated the massive waterfall. Water careened off both sides of the boulder, but for a space of about two feet, occasional splotches of light splintered the darkness.

  Jennie had no way of knowing what lay on the other side, but she had to try it. With her left arm looped through the straps of her backpack, she headed for the opening. The turbulent water along the rocky edge was only a few feet deep. Within a few minutes she splashed through the falls to the sunlit world on the other side. Jennie stumbled, trying to stay erect as the river pushed her along and finally dumped her on the shore. Dragging her pack out of the water, Jennie collapsed on the narrow bank.

  You made it, McGrady. Jennie closed her eyes. It wouldn’t be long now. They’ll see me and…Jennie’s mind switched into slow motion, everything…will…be…all right.

  When she awoke, rocks pressed against her face and arms. Something the size of a boulder jabbed at her side. As she tried to move, pain coursed through her shoulder. She groaned. “What…?”

  Jennie opened her eyes, shading them from the blinding sun. How long had she been lying there? Her mouth felt dry and hot. Her clothes were warm but still damp. Jennie reached for her canteen, untwisted the top and took a long drink, then splashed some on her face.

  Why hadn’t anyone come? She glanced around, trying to get her bearings. She was lying downstream of the falls, maybe about fifteen feet away. Solid rock walls, brush, and trees lined the river for as far as she could see. The trail they’d come in on was high above her. Why wasn’t anyone there? They wouldn’t just leave her. Unless…“Oh…God, they think I’m dead. They think my body was washed downstream.”

  Stop it, McGrady. This is no time to get hysterical. Just stay calm. There’s got to be a way out. She called for help.

  A crow answered with a sharp caw that sounded like a cruel laugh.

  Jennie pulled her knees up and tried to stand. A sharp pain ripped through her leg. A long blood-caked gash ran along her calf from just above her sock to her knee. The cut blurred as tears stung her eyes. Come on, McGrady. Don’t give up now. Jennie drew in a long, shuddering breath and wiped an arm across her face.

  Obeying a strong, steady voice in her head, Jennie grabbed the metal frame of her pack and crawled into the shade of a tree that stood beside the river. Its roots curved around the rocks and reached into the water like tentacles. She splashed cool water on her face and arms, then poured some on the wound. After washing most of the dried blood away, Jennie retriev
ed the first-aid kit. She rummaged through assorted bandages and finally settled on a roll of white gauze.

  When she’d finished wrapping her leg, she leaned back and rested her head on the soggy clothes she’d taken out of her pack. Her head still hurt. She felt so tired. Jennie closed her eyes and drifted into a long dark tunnel.

  “Jennie!” Michael’s voice drifted through the darkness, bringing her back. “Can you hear me?” A loud fluttering noise nearly drowned him out. She opened her eyes. Michael and Uncle Kevin were kneeling beside her. A helicopter hovered above their heads. “Hang on, kid.” Michael smiled down at her. “We’ll get you out of here.”

  “Mom…”Jennie tried to lift her head.

  “Don’t try to move,” Uncle Kevin warned. “We don’t know if anything is broken. Your mom is up there.” He pointed to the helicopter, where a stretcher was being lowered down.

  “W—what happened?” Jennie murmured, as bits and pieces of the fall filtered back into her mind.

  “Just relax, Jennie,” Michael crooned. “We’ll talk about it later.”

  The fact that Jennie had survived the accident, the doctor told her, had been a miracle. The only injuries she’d sustained had been the gash on her leg, a mild concussion, and a badly bruised left shoulder. “Everything else looks okay,” he’d said. “But I want to keep you overnight—just in case. Your body took quite a beating, and I want to make certain we didn’t miss anything.”

  Mom and Michael were the first visitors allowed in to see her. Mom brushed the hair from Jennie’s forehead and stroked her brow, then leaned over the rail and kissed her.

  “Jennie,” Michael began, “I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I thought there would be a way across the river. A guy at school told me…” He shook his head and looked away. “I should have checked it out.”

  “It wasn’t your fault,” Jennie assured. “I shouldn’t have tried to go across. It held the others so I thought it would hold me too. Guess I’m going to have to go on a diet.” When they didn’t respond, Jennie sighed. “Hey, lighten up, you guys. I survived.”

  “No thanks to that crazy hunter,” Michael muttered. “Hunter?” Jennie glanced from Michael to Mom and back again. “What hunter?”

  Mom looked totally disgusted. “Michael, you promised. I didn’t…Never mind.”

  “Susan, I’m sorry.”

  Mom ducked out from under his arm and turned toward the door. “I have to check on Nick.”

  Michael watched her go. He pulled his fingers throughhis thick sandy-brown hair. His hazel eyes looked tired and sad. “I don’t seem to be racking up very many points with your mother lately.”

  His deep sigh tore at Jennie’s heart. What’s the matter with you, McGrady? You’ve been praying for Mom and Michael to break up. You should be thrilled they’re having problems. “She’ll get over it,” Jennie heard herself say.

  “I hope so.” He glanced toward the door again. “I love her, Jennie. I don’t know what I’d do if things didn’t work out for us.”

  Jennie didn’t know what she’d do if they did. “So,” she said, changing the subject, “what weren’t you supposed to tell me about this hunter?”

  Michael explained that her fall had been caused by a stray bullet. Rocky had stayed behind to investigate.

  Someone had shot through the bark. “It’s no wonder you fell. A shot like that would be like having a firecracker explode under you. The ranger said they’d been having trouble with poachers in the area and figure some hunter missed his target and hit the log. Unfortunately, you were on it at the time.”

  20

  Over the next couple of hours while Mom kept a steady vigil at her bedside, visitors streamed in and out. Kevin, Kate, Lisa, Brad, Paige, Ed, and most of the other kids who’d been on the hiking trip. But not B.J., Allison, or Jerry. Jennie couldn’t help but wonder why.

  That night when the visiting stopped, and she’d finally persuaded Michael and Mom to go home, Jennie chewed over the details of the fall like a dog with a bone. Michael had said the shot had probably been fired by a hunter. A stray bullet. A coincidence? Maybe, but Jennie couldn’t help thinking about the other possibility. What if the stalker had carried out his threat against her? What if he was closing in on Allison and wanted her out of the way?

  Jennie dug into her memory for details or clues that would reveal the shooter. Ed, Jerry, Brad, and B.J. had all crossed before her. Could one of them have collected a gun and come back? She immediately dismissed Brad, then added him back on as a possible suspect. He was Lisa’s boyfriend, but how much did she really know about him?

  B.J. couldn’t have fired the shot. She had been waiting on the other bank when Jennie fell. And from what Lisa had said the night before, B.J. had practically drowned trying to save her. Still, Jennie couldn’t help wondering why B.J. hadn’t come to see her in the hospital. The theory that she might be working with someone surfaced again.

  What about Ed? He’d been going with Allison, they’d broken up, and now he and Paige were engaged. But something was definitely wrong with that picture. Jennie remembered the strained look on their faces the night of the party. Now that Jennie thought about it, the shooter could have been Paige. She hadn’t gone on the hike. Had Paige feigned illness, then waited in the woods to ambush her? It would be easy enough to check it out. Tomorrow she’d ask Mom.

  Even though Jennie resisted the idea, the most logical suspect was Jerry. She had no idea whether Brad, Ed, or Paige could handle guns, but as much as she hated the thought, Jennie couldn’t help remembering Jerry’s knowledge and expertise with firearms. Had he hidden one in his pack? Had he slipped away from the others to keep her off the case for good? But why? He had Allison now. She adored him. Jennie shuddered as she remembered reading a suspense novel where this guy dated girls, then killed them because they reminded him of a girl who thought she was too good for him.

  Jennie shook her head. That was too bizarre. She’d known Jerry for years. Still…

  Jennie drifted in and out of sleep as the nurses checked her vital signs and shined a flashlight in her eyes to check her pupils and ask her stupid questions like: “What’s your name?” “Do you know where you are?”

  “Standard procedure for head injuries,” they told her. When she awoke early the next morning, the scent of flowers permeated the air. Jennie stretched and glanced over at the shelf along the wall that held the cards, carnations, roses, and plants her family and friends had brought. She reached for the water glass on her nightstand and nearly dropped it.

  Sometime during the night someone had added a long­ stemmed, wilted black rose to her collection of flowers.

  Jennie gasped and held back the urge to scream. A card beside it in block print read, Sorry you made it. Next time you won’t be so lucky. It took a moment for Jennie to grasp the cryptic meaning. Then it hit her. The questions she’d been brooding over during the night—the hunter had been after her and had been in her room last night.

  Jennie fought back the rising wave of hysteria. With trembling hands, she reached for the phone to call the police. The door of her room swooshed open.

  Rocky stepped in, closed the door behind him, and leaned against it. His long blond hair drooped around his shoulders, framing his unshaven face. His haunted expression echoed his words. “She’s gone.”

  “Allison?” A chill swept through her like an Arctic wind. “What happened?”

  Rocky dragged a chair up to the bed and folded himself into it. “After you fell, I stayed behind—thought maybe I could track down the shooter. Figured she’d be okay returning on the bus with the youth group. I hadn’t counted on Rhodes letting the Shepherd kid drive her home from the church.”

  “What do you mean?” Jennie felt like she’d been doused with ice water. “You don’t think Jerry…”

  “Jennie, I know he’s your friend, but you have to face facts. The guy carri
es a rifle in his truck—he’s won awards for marksmanship. He and Allison haven’t been seen since they drove out of the church parking lot last night. I figure he shot at you to distract us. It worked. After what happened to you, I—”

  “Jerry wouldn’t shoot me.” Her argument sounded weak, but having a person like Jerry betray her—no, she couldn’t accept that. “You told Michael it was a hunter.”

  “I didn’t want to worry them until I had some facts to back up my suspicions.” He drew both hands through his hair, then leaned forward and rested his arms on the bed. His troubled blue gaze moved up to meet hers. “It wasn’t an accident, Jennie.”

  Jennie swallowed and looked toward the rose. “I know. I just didn’t want to admit it. That was here when I woke up.”

  Rocky studied the note. “Did you call the police?”

  “I was just about to when you came.”

  Rocky grabbed the phone and punched out the numbers.

  Two hours later, the police had come and gone. No prints, no clue as to who might have entered the hospital with a dying black rose.

  The doctor had released Jennie, and Rocky insisted on driving her home. When they reached the house, he took a look around, then escorted her inside. “After what happened to Allison, I’m not taking any chances. From the looks of that note, Shepherd might come after you next. I’m sticking to you like glue.”

  The thought of Rocky hanging around for what could be days unnerved her. “Is that really necessary? Nothing’s going to happen to me here.”

  “Trust me, it’s necessary.”

  “But what about the Beaumonts? Shouldn’t you be trying to find Allison?”

  “Donovan and Mendoza are handling that. Besides, Beaumont’s fuming—doesn’t want me near the place. Dragged Rhodes and me over the coals so many times we’ve got first-degree burns on our backsides.”

  “He’s upset with Michael?”

  “Let’s see, how’d he put it? ‘If anything happens to my daughter, neither of you will ever work in this town again.’ Yeah. I’d say he’s upset.”