Her Rocky Mountain Hero (Rocky Mountain Justice Book 1)

by Jennifer D. Bokal

  “I don’t have your son,” he said. “I’m here to help.”

  “Who are you?” Her voice was nothing more than a whisper.

  “I’m Cody Samuels,” he said. He slid his gun into a holster on his hip. “If you want to live, come with me.”

  Viktoria pressed her hand to her mouth, unsure whether she should laugh or cry. Cody Samuels’s line sounded like something out of a bad movie. Yet this was real life, not a B-rated thriller. Her son was gone. Gregory was the only reason she had strength to get out of bed in the morning. How would she ever get him back?

  More than the grief—that awful, sickening hollowness in her chest—was the despair at knowing she had been made powerless. Her only hope now was a stranger with a gun. Much like the man who had tried to kill Viktoria, Cody Samuels had materialized from the darkness, bringing with him death and destruction.

  Indecision weighed her down. She knew nothing about Cody Samuels, less than nothing. Was he any better than the men who had stolen her son? In fact, Gregory might be his real target.

  Perhaps he’d only spared her life to use her to meet his own wicked goals.

  “We have to go,” Cody said. He lifted his hand a bit, reaching out to her.

  Viktoria ignored his outstretched palm and rose on shaking legs. “They took my son,” she said. Somehow the words made this nightmare real. Fear took over and gripped her middle. Its intensity bent Viktoria double, escaping in a sob.

  Cody stepped toward her.

  “Are you hurt?”

  The unexpected kindness of his question surprised her and she stood upright. Viktoria had a hard time imagining a possible assassin inquiring about her health. She catalogued her injuries—lip, shoulder, knee—and decided they were all manageable. She realized, though, that she was freezing. Her whole body trembled. Her teeth chattered. The room grew dim; the outline of furniture became indistinct. “I’m cold,” she said. The words she spoke didn’t seem to come from her.

  “You’re in shock,” said Cody. He slipped off his parka and draped it over Viktoria’s shoulders. He gripped her biceps, and with his hands on her arms, he steered her past the body on the floor.

  Something about the calm command of his voice, along with the warmth of his touch and scent of his coat—pine and earth and sweat—snapped Viktoria’s mind back into her body.

  “I’m okay,” she said, her voice was weak and her throat tight. “I’m okay,” she repeated, more to convince herself, and she stood up taller.

  “Good,” he said. “We have to get you out of here. Now.”

  She looked around the tiny cabin that had been her place of refuge for the past two months. All her meager possessions were here. She was wearing one of her two sets of pajamas—fleece bottoms and a long-sleeved thermal tee. For a moment, she wondered what she should take with her and how quickly she could pack. Once she and Gregory were together he would want some of his toys and books. She needed her money. Cody already stood by the door, looking into the night. His pistol was once again out of the holster and in hand, angled slightly down. Viktoria cast one more glance at the dead man on the floor, a vapor cloud rising from the pool of blood surrounding him. The sight left her light-headed and uneasy on her feet. She held on to the wall for support and moved to Cody’s side. Her boots sat nearby and she slipped them on over her thick wool socks.

  Viktoria began to tremble again. “There were other men,” she said, “the ones who took my son.” How many had remained to make sure that her fight to keep Gregory was over, permanently?

  Cody nodded toward a black SUV that sat silently in the driveway. “As far as I can tell, only three men invaded your cabin. One took your boy and left. Then, there’s the one back there.” He hitched his chin toward the dead man. “And the last guy is in the SUV.”

  “How do you know all that?” she asked. Cody may have saved her, but who was he? His stare pinned her where she stood.

  “I just do,” he said, before casting his light blue gaze out the door. A few fat snowflakes drifted lazily from the sky, silvery white against the darkness of the mountains.

  A spark of anger flickered to life inside her chest.

  “What’s that supposed to mean? I just do?” she asked. Someone had taken her son and tried to kill her. She deserved some answers.

  He didn’t bother to turn around, much less give her a response. Cody edged toward the door. The small spark of anger licked to life and became a flame. Fury warmed her and gave her something to cling to while dangling over the gaping pit of despair.

  “Hey!”

  She reached for his shoulder. The solid muscle was unmistakable under his polar fleece jacket. How long had it been since she had touched a man? Months—well before her husband, Lucas, had died. Cody turned and looked at her hand on his shoulder then raised his eyes to meet hers. Viktoria’s skin suddenly felt too tight. She pulled her hand away and pressed it to her chest.

  Her son was missing. As handsome as Cody Samuels was, Viktoria was crazy to see him as anything other than a necessary—and risky—means to an end.

  They stared at each other, not speaking, not moving. Viktoria didn’t even breathe.

  She finally broke the silence. “Those men took my son. I need to know what you know.” After a moment, she thought to add, “Please.”

  “I was keeping watch on your cabin,” he said, “I saw the men arrive, but was too far away to stop the kidnapping.”

  At least he’d been close enough to save her life.

  “Why were you watching me?”

  “It’s a long story that’s going to get longer before this night is over. For now, you need to trust me. Can you do that?”

  “I really don’t have any choice, do I?”

  Cody ignored her question. “We need to neutralize the driver,” he said and then added, “These guys were sent here to do a job. I don’t think they wanted to kill your son. If they did they would have done that right away.”

  Small blessing that it was, Viktoria felt better knowing that Cody also believed that Gregory was safe, although she imagined he was terrified.

  Cody continued, “If we’re going to get your son back, I don’t want the driver to warn anyone.”

  Viktoria took in a sharp breath and her chest swelled with joy. Cody was going to help her get Gregory back. Before she could ask how, she had an awful thought. He clearly was prepared to kill the driver next. What if Cody’s ultimate plan ended with her son as his final target?

  She was wholly unprepared to deal with kidnappers and murderers on her own. Cody, at least, was ready to help. All she could do was stay vigilant. For now, Cody was her only hope.

  “Stay here,” he said, then slipped into the night. She started to go after him. With the moonlight seeping through the overhead cloud cover, Viktoria got her first clear view of Cody Samuels. Even in the darkened cabin, she had seen that he was handsome, but now she understood he was truly a magnificent male specimen. His chin and jaw were strong, as if part of a sculpture. Those arrestingly light blue eyes were a strong contrast to his darker hair and complexion.

  Gun lifted, he pointed the barrel into the SUV’s open window. Cody retreated a pace and waved Viktoria back to the cabin. “The driver’s not here,” he whispered.

  A shot, like a clap of thunder, rang out. A single stream of hot wind rushed toward Viktoria. At the same instant, pain erupted in her head and she tumbled forward.

  Chapter 3

  A bullet flew past Cody’s ear. Instinctively he dropped to the ground and immediately looked for Viktoria. She lay facedown in the snow, a jagged hole visible in the door directly behind where she’d been standing. Cody’s mouth went dry. He hadn’t meant for her to become a casualty, no matter her associates.

  The voice in Cody’s head was strong and without remorse. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. H
e never should have allowed her to follow him from the cabin.

  He looked back at her still body, her fingers splayed, as if in surprise. A volcanic rage rose inside Cody for having unwittingly played a role in the death of Viktoria Mateev. He’d never forgive himself, and yet the game was not over.

  The gunman had gone silent, but Cody was far from safe. The other man was out there, somewhere, lying in wait for his chance to strike again. He stared at Viktoria, still angry at himself and full of disbelief. The tips of her fingers twitched, a movement so slight he was almost convinced that it was his imagination.

  Then she lifted her eyes and sought out his.

  A great wave of relief washed over Cody and for a moment, he thought that he might melt into the snow.

  Cody pressed his palms down to the ground, in the universal sign for stay put. She gave a nod, just a quick lifting of the chin.

  With Viktoria prone on the ground, Cody rose to one knee. He peered through the SUV’s window and scanned what he could see of the horizon. The cabin sat in a bowl with peaks on all sides. The surrounding woods were thick, shadows turning every tree into a possible perpetrator. Or vice versa.

  A quick estimation of the bullet’s trajectory told Cody that the shooter was on the hill, in approximately the same place from which he’d been observing Viktoria and Gregory earlier. It was a prime location, with a view of the cabin’s front door, the driveway and the road beyond. The SUV was parked between the hill and the door, momentarily providing cover for Cody, but not Viktoria.

  Another shot boomed, this one lower and only slightly to the right of where Viktoria lay on the ground. The next bullet shattered the doorjamb and the one after hit the ground in front of Viktoria, sending snow, gravel and dirt flying.

  As unsafe as she was by the cabin, she would become an even easier target by running the five yards to the SUV. The only way it could be done was for him to provide her with cover. He hoped that she would continue to read his hand gestures.

  Two fingers to his chest, then two to his gun and then the hill. Cody pointed from Viktoria to where he was, made a fist and extended three fingers, one at a time. He repeated the sequence for good measure. Her gaze was trained on him, her jaw tight. Cody held up one finger. He lifted a bit, ready to take aim and fire. A bullet punched a neat hole in the windshield. A spider’s web of cracks spread outward from the point of impact.

  “Now,” he called out fast. She ran, low to the ground, and dove out, sliding in next to him. She took refuge behind the SUV’s quarter panel, so close to Cody that her rapid breath washed over his neck. A thin red line ran across her cheek as blood seeped from a wound.

  “You’re bleeding,” he said. He placed a gloved hand to the cut. His pulse sped at the touch, fueled from adrenaline, no doubt—and this night that had suddenly gone awry.

  “It’s splinters from the door,” she said. “I’ll be picking bits of wood out of my hair for weeks, if we survive.”

  “We’ll survive.” Cody’s hand still rested on Viktoria’s cheek. He dropped it quickly, leaving a smudge of crimson on her milky skin.

  Two more bullets rained down, striking the ground mere feet from where they sat. Ice and gravel flew upward and Cody shielded Viktoria with his body.

  She was warm and soft. Her breath was sweet and minty. Her hair held the slight scent of the floral shampoo she used. He inhaled deeply and reminded himself that Viktoria was part of a case. More than that, he’d be damned before he allowed her beauty to distract him from what was truly important—justice.

  Cody turned his attention back to the shooter on the hill, assessing the challenge he presented. “He’s a good shot.”

  “So the men who kidnapped my son are armed and dangerous and good at what they do.” The panic in her voice was palpable. “They’ll take him to Moscow unless they’re stopped.”

  Viktoria’s knowledge of the kidnapper’s plans confirmed Cody’s suspicion that she was intimately involved with Russian criminals. Even though he’d suspected it all along, having the evidence felt like a betrayal. Another cut to his heart. Well, scar tissue was the strongest and his scars made him tough enough to do his job without question or remorse. A lesser man might feel sorry for Viktoria Mateev.

  “We need to know this guy’s location.” Slipping the pack from his back, he retrieved his night vision binoculars and powered them up. To find the shooter, he was going to have to make himself a target. He pulled the keys to the SUV from his pocket and pressed them into her hand. At least he could ensure that she had a way to save herself if he were shot or killed. “If I get hit, take this car and get out of here. Go.” He paused. He wanted to tell her to go to the sheriff’s office in Telluride. But since Cody feared that Sheriff Benjamin was somehow involved in the kidnapping, he let it be. He continued, “Contact Rocky Mountain Justice in Denver. Ask for Sir Ian Wallace. Tell him what happened. Got it?”

  “Cody.” Viktoria placed her palms on the front of his chest. Even through the fleece, his skin instantly warmed at her touch. “Don’t get shot.”

  “I’ll try not to.”

  “Thank you,” she said earnestly, “whoever you are, for saving me.”

  With a nod, Cody fixed his mind on where he thought the shooter would be located. He rose, just enough, and brought the night vision binoculars to his eyes. The crack of a pistol echoed off the hills and Cody ducked down. But, he had seen all he needed to see.

  “Our shooter is just above the tree line. More than his location, the guy has a set of night-vision goggles, so he can see in the dark and fire at the same time. No question, we’re at a complete disadvantage.”

  “If we shine a bright light in his face he’ll be blinded, right?”

  Cody wanted to groan. Hollywood had ruined the public’s perception of law enforcement tactics.

  “Let me guess,” he said, “you saw that in a movie.”

  Viktoria shrugged. “Several.”

  “It doesn’t work that way.” Then again... Sometimes the simplest solutions were the most effective. “We’ll try it. Get into the driver’s seat, Viktoria, but stay low. Turn the SUV about forty-five degrees and when I tell you, turn on the high beams.”

  She drew her brows together. “How do you know my name?”

  Cody had never intended to lie to Viktoria. He had been hired to do a perfectly legitimate job. Sure, spying on her wasn’t part of his assignment, but his presence had saved her life. Why, then, did he hesitate in telling her the truth? He didn’t have time to question his motivations.

  Instead of answering her question, he said, “This guy is going to keep shooting at you. But, I’m going to be firing back, which should hinder his aim. Just be ready when I tell you to turn on the lights. Got it?”

  Thankfully Viktoria didn’t press him again about his knowing her name, although he doubted she’d forgotten. Then again, if his plan didn’t work, she might not have another chance to ask.

  * * *

  Viktoria opened the driver’s side door as two more bullets rained down. She dove into the car and huddled on the floorboard, frozen with terror.

  Then she thought of her son and her fear no longer mattered. She quickly pulled the door shut. Her heart racing, she gripped the key fob with such ferocity that it dug into her flesh.

  Another crack of a gun. Another echo on the hills. Another puff of gun powder filling the air. She eased into the seat and glanced into the rearview mirror. The long driveway stretched out like a black ribbon, pulled taut. Viktoria could do this now—run, escape, live. But then, where would she go? How would she even find her son? Even though Viktoria had come to rely on only herself and trust no one, she needed Cody—at least for now.

  One more shot fired, this one by Cody.

  Viktoria fumbled with the key fob, setting it in the console between the seats, then hit the ignition button wh
ile pressing her foot on the brake. The engine rumbled to life and she gripped the steering wheel, careful to remain below the dashboard. With a deep breath, she turned the steering wheel and threw the gearshift into Reverse.

  The SUV spun in one fluid motion as Cody fired at the hill—once, twice, three times. The shooter didn’t return fire.

  “Now!” Cody yelled.

  Viktoria flipped the switch for the lights. The hillside glowed, flooded instantly with bright white light. A few stray snowflakes fell, dancing lazily in the beams. Midway up the rise, a man lay on his stomach. A set of goggles encircled his head. He ripped them off, tossing them aside.

  Cody advanced. Bullets blazed from the barrel in rapid succession as he moved toward the tree line. “Stay where you are,” he called back to her. With a soft click, his gun’s empty magazine fell to the ground and he quickly reloaded.

  Viktoria lost the shooter’s exact location. She sat up taller in her seat and peered at the hill.

  Just then a bullet broke through the driver’s side window and pebbles of safety glass exploded into the car. She felt the heat and the wind as the round passed her ear. It tore through the leather headrest and lodged deep within the back seat.

  Cody raced to the SUV and jumped in through the shot-out window. “Go,” he shouted, as he climbed over her and into the passenger seat.

  Viktoria didn’t need directions. Spinning the steering wheel, she pointed the SUV down the driveway and stomped on the accelerator. The powerful engine roared and catapulted them toward the road. Another bullet flew after them, shattering a side mirror.

  “Left, left, left,” said Cody, as the end of the drive loomed close.

  Viktoria turned the wheel and the SUV skidded as the tires connected with the cold, wet pavement. Viktoria pulled the steering wheel hard to the right and slammed on the brakes. The SUV began to spin. Mountainside. Cliff. Mountainside. Cliff.

  Viktoria was determined to control the mechanical beast and bend it to her will. She let off the brakes and held tight to the steering wheel, forcing the tires to remain straight. The SUV swerved, but ceased spinning. They were aimed directly at a snow-covered steel guardrail. Another step on the brake, and the car slid sideways. Metal scraped against metal and sparks shot into the night. Snow flew in through the broken window. With a shudder, the vehicle came to a stop.