“I do anyway, so you can stop pretending,” he said with a smile she could feel rather than see. “Come on. Let’s get warm.”
“What took you so long?” she asked as they crawled into the tent.
He didn’t answer until they had shed their jackets and boots and zipped the two sleeping bags together, then crawled into them.
“One of the guys pulled in to get gas just as I was leaving,” he explained, drawing her close. “We had ourselves a merry chase for a while, until I finally got into the woods and he tried to follow me. The cruiser got stuck, and I’m not sure that he didn’t do it deliberately.”
“You mean he deliberately let you get away? Did you see who it was?”
“No, but only an idiot would have tried to take a car where he did. It took me quite a while to get back here because I deliberately led him away from this area. I wanted to be sure they wouldn’t start searching here the first thing in the morning. Did you talk to Mary?”
C.Z. smiled. “After what you went through, I’m glad to have some good news.”
As she told him about Mary’s revelations, C.Z. could feel him growing tense with excitement. Several times, he seemed about to interrupt her, but he managed to remain silent until she had finished. Then he heaved a deep sigh, causing her head to bob up and down on his chest.
“It’s probably a good thing I wasn’t there,” he admitted. “If I had been, I might have had trouble deciding whether to kiss her or strangle her.”
“She was only protecting herself and her family,” C.Z. insisted. “In her situation, I might have done the same thing. And don’t forget, she never made the connection between the accident and Dad’s death or your fight with Harvey, although I suppose you could make a good case for the fact that she should have.”
“A damned good case,” he muttered.
“In her mind, she could almost excuse Harvey for the accident,” C.Z. went on, ignoring him. “She’s known him all her life and she just couldn’t believe that he would deliberately kill someone.”
“I’m getting pretty damned tired of people nominating that slimeball for sainthood.”
“Zach, you don’t understand small-town people. Besides, as the world outside gets crazier and crazier, I think they cling even tighter to the belief that monsters couldn’t be living in their midst. Harvey’s helped a lot of people. I’d be willing to bet that the men he’s hired to look for us are among them. He’s probably convinced them that we’re evil outsiders who are out to destroy him.”
He swore vehemently, then sighed again. “Yeah, you’re right. If there’s one good thing that’s come out of all this—besides re-meeting you, that is—it’s that I do understand these people better.” Then he laughed bitterly. “You could even say that Harvey Summers was right when he argued against hiring me because I was an outsider who didn’t understand the people here.”
She smiled. “If you recall, we argued about that the first time we met.”
“Yeah, but don’t forget, your father did understand them, and he still got killed.”
“I think Dad would have felt much as Mary did, that Harvey would never have deliberately killed anyone.”
“But that wouldn’t have stopped him from arresting him.”
“No,” she agreed, “it wouldn’t have.”
“We’ve got to find that truck—and fast. The more worried Summers gets, the more likely he is to try to get rid of it before we can find it. He’s smart enough to know that without it, we’ve got no case against him—at least nothing that would stand up in court.”
“I was thinking about that earlier,” she told him. “From what Mary said, Harvey and Dave Colby must have gone back to the camp after the accident, to hide the truck. And they were still gone early the next morning, when Mary’s husband went to the camp to give Harvey his keys.”
“That doesn’t really help us much, though. They would have had a lot of time to hide it The accident happened just before eleven o’clock at night, and they would have had until dawn to get rid of it and then walk back.”
“That isn’t what I meant. You’re forgetting something.”
“What’s that?”
“They were drunk. It’s true that they could have gone back to the camp and slept it off for a while before taking the truck into the woods, but I doubt that. They would have wanted to get rid of it fast. And if they were drunk, they might not even know where they took it.”
“Huh!” Zach sat up and stared at her. She could barely see his face in the darkness. “You’re right! No matter how well they know those woods, two drunks running around out there at night would be likely to have gotten lost.”
“Well, they obviously found their way to the camp, but we don’t know how long it took them. Also, I doubt they even tried to remember where they dumped the truck. The only thing that would have been on their minds was to get rid of it.”
“Good thinking,” he said, lying down again and drawing her to him. “Now let’s stop thinking about it for a while.”
“And get some sleep.”
“That too…later.”
“THERE IT IS!”
C.Z. saw the notched tree just after he did. It was nearly noon, and they were back to the spot where they’d seen the footprints in the snow leave the road—prints they hoped belonged to the recluse.
They parked the Jeep off the road beneath a covering of pines and left its warmth to step into a chill that felt more and more like winter. Above them, the blue sky was rapidly giving way to thick, dark clouds, and already a few snowflakes were drifting down and swirling about in the strong northwest wind.
They set out into the woods, both of them watching for any sign that their quarry had passed this way. Zach had studied the maps and said there was a small stream not more than three or four miles away. He considered that to be a likely spot for Davy Crockett to have built his cabin.
They had managed only about a mile over the rough terrain when they heard the helicopter again and hurried into denser cover. A few moments later, it passed over them, moving slowly just above the tree line. They waited in silence until the sound began to fade, then set off again.
An hour later, they struggled to the top of a hill. She was scanning the forest ahead of them, searching for the stream, when Zach suddenly grabbed her arm and pointed to the left.
“Someone’s over there! I saw something moving.”
“A person?” she squinted, trying to see for herself.
“No, a vehicle of some sort. I only got a quick look before it disappeared into the trees.”
“How far away is it?” she asked, unable to judge distances out here.
“Probably ten miles or so, but it was moving in this direction.” He handed her the binoculars. “You keep watching for it while I have a look at the map.”
He removed his backpack and took out the maps, found the one he wanted and spread it out on the ground She used the glasses to scan the area anxiously.
“I think I know where they are,” he said finally, “and if they stay on that road, it could bring them pretty close to the area where I think his cabin is.”
She lowered the glasses briefly and stared at him. “Do you think they could be looking for him, too?”
“That thought crossed my mind,” he admitted. “Everyone knows about him, and if it occurred to me that he could be helpful, it could have occurred to them, as well.”
She was back to studying the woods through the glasses. “But we don’t know who ‘they’ are. It could be the police—or it could be Harvey’s men.”
“Right. If it’s the police, then all they want is some help from him. But if it’s Summers’s men, they could want to get rid of him. If I had to guess, I’d say it’s Summers’s men. The police are probably searching miles from here—where they know I went into the woods last night. They won’t have enough men to be searching more than one area at a time.
“Even the helicopter points to that. They’d be using it to search an a
rea that isn’t being searched on foot.”
She thought it was lucky for them that Zach could second-guess their strategy. But it certainly wasn’t lucky to have Harvey Summers’s thugs out here.
“Come on,” he said, taking the glasses from her and slinging them around his neck. “We need to find them.”
“Why?” She was appalled at the thought.
“Because if we do, I can put them out of action for a while.”
“Zach!”
“I mean stop them—not kill them,” he said, giving her a hurt look.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I know you wouldn’t kill them, but I’m just not thinking too clearly.”
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “You’re doing fine. Offhand, I can’t think of anyone I’d rather be in the woods with.”
“Well, I can certainly think of a few million places I’d rather be,” she replied, struggling to keep up with him as they descended the hill angling off to the left. “I never thought I’d be in a situation where a nice warm bath could look like heaven.”
He chuckled. “My version of heaven is a razor and some shaving cream. This beard is itchy.”
“It certainly is,” she said pointedly, feeling her irritated skin chafing beneath her layers of clothing.
“Just keep thinking about that nice big tub at my place. That’s the goal—or the first one, anyway.”
“What do you mean, the first one?” she asked a few moments later, after she’d stumbled over a tree root and he had picked her up. “The first goal is to find the truck and then get Harvey Summers behind bars.”
“I’m thinking beyond that.”
“Oh? Then what’s the second goal?”
“To get my job back and then marry this klutzy broad I’m stuck with,” he replied, grabbing her as she started to slide in a muddy spot.
She stared at him. “That is absolutely the worst marriage proposal I’ve ever heard!”
He shrugged. “Well, it’s the best I can do right now. There aren’t any flower shops or jewelry stores around at the moment.” He grinned wickedly. “Of course, I could always go rob a couple of them tonight if you like—and hit a liquor store for some champagne while I’m at it.”
She shook her head. “I’m going to pretend that none of this is real.”
“Now there’s a healthy attitude—especially for a shrink.”
“Just remember that I haven’t accepted your proposal,” she warned him. “I might decide I want to get to know you under normal circumstances.”
He opened his mouth to reply, then closed it again and motioned for her to be quiet. All thoughts of the future vanished abruptly as she heard what he had heard, the distant sound of an engine.
“They’re on the far side of that hill. Come on. I want to find a good spot.”
“For what?” she asked, hurrying once again to keep up with his longer stride.
“To practice my sharpshooting,” he replied, briefly touching the rifle strapped to his shoulder.
She didn’t like the sound of that, but she knew he wouldn’t harm their pursuers.
The sound of the vehicle became steadily louder as they scrambled up the hill, then began to edge carefully along the top, watching. A short time later, they saw it, a large green boxy-looking vehicle, bumping along slowly over the rough road below them.
Zach began to run through the woods at the top of the hill, staying just below the crest and ahead of the men below them. As he ran, he pulled the rifle from its resting place along his back and carried it in one hand. She followed, not even trying to keep up.
Finally, he stopped and flung himself onto the ground at the top of the hill. By the time she caught up with him, he was propped up on his elbows and sighting the rifle. She dropped down beside him and watched as the vehicle came into view.
The rifle made a sharp, cracking sound and recoiled slightly. She recoiled, as well, but managed to remain silent Below them, the vehicle suddenly lurched to one side and then stopped. Zach fired again, and she saw the front of the vehicle drop as the other front tire went flat. Whoever was inside wisely decided to stay there as Zach fired again, this time hitting the rear tire they could see from this angle.
“Let’s go,” he said, getting up. “I don’t think they’ll be dumb enough to try to come after us, but I don’t want to be proved wrong.”
They took off the way they’d come, staying on the far side of the hill from the road. “What if they have a radio?” she asked, knowing from what he’d told her that a cell phone wasn’t likely to be any help.
“They don’t. There wasn’t any antenna. And even if they did, they wouldn’t be using it. Summers wouldn’t want anyone to know they’re out here.”
“Do you think he might have been there himself?”
Zach shook his head. “Not likely. He’ll be trying to stay as far away from this as possible. But I’d be willing to bet they’re out here looking for old Davy, just like we are. Lucky for him that we found them first.”
“Shouldn’t we have waited to see who they are?”
“I memorized the license plate, so I can deal with them later, but running around in the woods isn’t a crime. The best we can hope for is that they can be scared into testifying against Summers.”
They continued to trek through the forest, heading toward the area where Zach believed they would find Davy Crockett’s cabin. She thought about how different Zach seemed since she’d told him of Mary’s revelations. He was more intense and more focused, more sure of himself, though she wouldn’t have said before that he was lacking self-confidence. And unfortunately, she seemed to be moving in the opposite direction.
It didn’t require much thought on her part to understand the reasons behind these transformations. Zach was in his element. He had become a cop again, using all his considerable skills to elude their pursuers, track down the recluse and find the truck. And although many years had passed since his military service, he was comfortable in the woods.
She, on the other hand, was very much out of her element. She could deal well with people face to face, but she found faceless, nameless pursuers very frightening—not to mention the deprivations of living in the woods. She’d been on only one camping trip, a disaster she’d determined never to repeat. She liked her comforts.
It was late in the day when they finally found the cabin, near a little stream just as Zach had predicted. They were quite close to it before they saw it, buried as it was in the depths of a pine forest.
C.Z. had been expecting a tumbledown shack and was quite surprised to see a sturdily built log cabin, with glass in the windows and bright blue shutters that seemed incongruous in this rough, woodsy setting.
Smoke curled from the stone chimney, indicating that he must be home or not far away. She was about to ask Zach what sort of welcome they could hope to receive when he stopped near the edge of the clearing where the cabin stood.
“You wait here. From what I’ve heard, he’s afraid of women.”
“You mean he doesn’t like them,” she stated, thinking that would certainly explain why he chose to seclude himself in the forest.
“No, I think it’s more likely that he’s just shy around them. Just wait here and give me a chance to talk to him first. When I tell him who you are, he’ll probably feel more comfortable. He apparently got along well with your father.”
So she waited while he walked out into the small clearing, leaving behind his rifle and his handgun. Instead of going to the door, he stopped in the middle of the clearing, then sat down cross-legged on the ground, facing the door.
C.Z. smiled, impressed with his talents. He was approaching the recluse much as one might approach a semiwild animal, taking care not to invade its territory, at the same time trying to show that his intentions were peaceful.
After several minutes, the door to the cabin opened, and she got her first look at the man people called Davy Crockett The name seemed apt. He was tall and rangy with a craggy sort of face, a
nd he was dressed entirely in buckskins. In fact, she thought that his clothing looked to be hand-sewn. His hair was long and of a dirty blond shade, held back in a ponytail with a leather thong.
Zach got up and extended his hand, and after a brief hesitation, the man took it. She wished she could hear their conversation, but from this distance, all she could hear was a faint murmur. At first, Zach was doing all the talking, but after a time, she could see that the recluse was saying something, as well, and gesturing into the forest to his right.
Her hopes soared. Was he telling Zach where the truck was? Neither of them had wanted to talk about what they’d do if he hadn’t seen it. With the police and Harvey Summers’s men looking for them, plus the fact that they couldn’t hope to get any more gas at the municipal garage, time was running out.
Then she saw Zach gesture in her direction. The man’s face turned toward her, and he shifted uneasily from one foot to the other, then nodded. Zach gestured again, this time indicating that she should join them. She left the thick cover of the pine woods and stepped into the clearing. Snow was beginning to fall, and the light was failing. The Jeep and their camping gear were miles away, and she wondered if Zach intended them to stay here tonight. That seemed to be imposing on the man’s hospitality.
She could feel the recluse’s gaze on her as she approached, and she wished that she looked more like her father. He might not believe she was who Zach said she was.
When she reached them, she smiled but didn’t extend her hand. It wasn’t likely that he’d take it anyway—he looked distinctly uncomfortable.
“He’s seen the truck,” Zach said in answer to her unspoken question. “The only problem is that it isn’t where I would have expected it to be. But it’s a black pickup with the front end damaged.”
She thought about that. “We’ve been assuming that they went back to Harvey’s camp and then drove it into the woods. But what if they didn’t do that? Maybe they were worried that the bus driver might have recognized them and would tell the police.”
“Exactly what I was thinking,” Zach confirmed, throwing her an approving glance. Then he raised his face to the heavens. The snow was falling more thickly.
Runaway Heart Page 20
