by D'Ann Lindun
Haley had torn into traffic causing a vehicle to slam on its brakes. Austin’s gaze collided with the driver’s startled eyes. He realized how he must look standing half dressed in front of the only motel in town, a woman running from his room. He doubted the lady would waste any time telling everyone she knew what she’d seen. Her news would be all over town before morning.
“Shit.” Austin limped back to his room, cursing the entire way.
Slamming the door behind him, he wondered why Haley Spencer had come to him and not Jamie? Or at least Daralee? He believed her story. She’d been too upset to be lying. Or, if she were she was a great actress.
Her tale weighed on him. If a cop had truly slipped her a date rape drug, then taken advantage of her, he deserved every punishment the law would allow. Rape pushed all his buttons. Austin had wanted to kill the members of Las Carnales who’d tortured and murdered Marisol, but reluctantly accepted they were in prison for life instead.
Would the women here find similar justice?
Confluence, Colorado was rife with evil.
Women missing, women raped.
What was wrong with this town? It was almost as bad as some of the big cities he’d been assigned to. Or maybe the small stature made the ugly show up a bit more. Sort of like a scar across a beautiful woman’s face.
He ripped a gray T-shirt over his head and shoved on his boots. He crammed on his Stetson and grabbed his car keys. Lying around was not an option. The answers were out there. He just had to look harder to find them.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Deputy Carver stared dispassionately at the battered face of the young woman before the ambulance crew zipped her up in a body bag. Not even her mother would recognize her after what the flood had done. Carried along in the raging waters, her body had bounced off of logs and boulders in the creek bed. Her body had been caught by a barbed wire fence strung over the creek bed designed to keep the Triangle ranch’s cattle on their own property.
He dialed Jamie. “I found the girl from last night. Drowned, I’d say. Her body was hung up on the Triangle boundary fence.”
“Any I.D. on her?”
“No clothes. They got tore off in the water.” Or by her abductor to keep her in line, but he kept that thought to himself.
“Is she on the way to the morgue?” Jamie asked.
“Yeah.” He watched the EMTs load her into the ambulance. “They’re taking her right now.”
“Does she match any description of anyone who has come through the office?” Jamie asked.
“She’s too battered to tell. We’ll need DNA or to match dental records once we have some leads.” Nobody was looking for the homeless hitchhiker.
Jamie drew in her breath loud enough he could hear it through the phone. “Okay. Keep me posted after Doc examines the body.”
“Will do.” He shut his phone and walked over to the coroner who sat in his car making notes. “Keep me updated on any I.D.”
Doc looked up and nodded. “Planned on it.”
“Thanks.” Tad thumped the top of the Lincoln a couple times and walked to his own vehicle. He waited until Doc drove away, then followed at a sedate pace. The buyer would be even more impatient now that the girl was dead. The pressure to replace her would be huge. Not for the first time, Tad wondered how he had gotten involved. A way to make a little quick cash by unloading some coke had turned into something altogether different. And a hell of a lot uglier.
He was in too deep to get out now.
Sort of like a cow bogged down in a swamp.
The more you struggled, the further you sank. Until you disappeared.
His phone rang. He picked up. “Yeah?”
“Did you find the girl’s body?” The familiar voice asked.
“You know I did. You’re always watching me.” Tad fought to keep the resentment out of his tone.
“True.”
“What do you want?”
“A replacement. Our friend wasn’t happy with our non-delivery.”
“That was your fault. You were driving too fast,” Tad said.
“It wasn’t the weather that caused me to wreck. Our little captive had a strong desire to escape. I took my eyes off the road long enough to subdue her, and next thing I know, we were upside down and she was making a run for it.”
“Tough break,” Tad muttered sarcastically.
“I need a replacement. Today.”
“I can’t just grab a girl off the streets of Confluence.” Sweat trickled down Tad’s back. “If I’m going to score the big fish, I can’t take another guppy from this pond.”
“Find a way,” the voice ordered softly.
Tad disconnected without answering. Resentment bubbled up in him. It wasn’t his fault the idiot had been driving too fast and wrecked last night. He’d gotten lucky spotting the hitchhiker on the edge of the county while doing patrol. Convincing her he would transport her across the county had been easy. Too easy.
“Damn it!”
So distracted by his thoughts he almost missed the blue car turning on the road to the White Forest. A young guy close to his own age drove and in the seat next to him sat a woman.
A germ of an idea took hold.
Flipping on his lights, he took pursuit.
The blue car pulled over to the side of the road.
Tad approached the driver’s side. “License and registration, please.”
The driver handed over the requested items. “Is there a problem, officer?”
As Tad initially thought the driver was young. Only twenty, and according to his driver’s license, lived over an hour away in Grand Junction. But it was the girl who caught Tad’s eye. A year or two younger than her boyfriend, a pretty brunette, she was exactly what he needed.
He held onto the driver’s license and registration. “What’s your business up here?”
The driver—David Paul Ruckman—pointed to the luggage compartment on top of the small car. “Going camping.”
“Where at?” Tad handed over the kid’s items.
“Not sure exactly,” David said. “We thought we’d get out at the Sheep Station trailhead and hike until we find a good spot.”
“How long will you be out?” Tad rested his hand on his revolver.
David’s eyes grew wide. “Uh, just for the weekend. Is there some problem?”
“No, not at all. I just wanted to check things out,” Tad claimed.
The girl, silent until now, leaned forward. “Thank you, officer.”
“Not a problem. Have a good time.” Tad walked back to his Jeep willing his phone to ring. His problem had just been solved.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Kyra Jacobi watched as her boyfriend pounded in the last tent stake. With his long, black hair and mysterious eyes, Davey was so freaking sexy. When he looked over his shoulder to wink, her heart sped up. They had been planning this trip for months. With their crazy schedules, summer had blown by like a piece of paper in a wind tunnel. They knew coming snow would put a halt to any camping until spring, so they had snuck away for a quick weekend trip. The cop with the unfriendly eyes had put a little damper on things, but as soon as they’d left him in their dust, they’d forgotten about him and his strange inquiries into their plans.
“Hurry up,” she urged with a glance around at the whipping aspen trees. “I’m freezing.”
Davey stood and dusted off his knees. “Done. Let’s gather some wood and build a fire.”
Kyra shivered when he took her hand. “Something feels kinda spooky out here.”
They looked around their little valley. Rimmed by aspens and pines and a meandering stream through the middle, it would ordinarily be an ideal place to camp. But with rain clouds closing in and a cold wind blowing down leaves, it seemed a little dark and ominous. Davey wrapped an arm around her shoulders and whispered in her ear, “I can think of a way to distract you.”
She smiled at him. “Great idea, but let’s get our firewood first.”
&nb
sp; Together, they picked up sticks until they had enough to build a fire. Davey found a few rocks and made a fire ring, then they placed the wood inside and he attempted to light it.
But the wood didn’t want to cooperate, staying unlit.
Kyra wrapped her arms around her mid-section. “What’s wrong? Why won’t it light?”
“The sticks are damp,” Davey muttered from the ground where he had dropped to blow on the flame.
“I’ll go see if I can find something a little drier,” Kyra offered.
“Okay, but don’t go far. It’s going to rain soon.”
Kyra walked back to where they had found a few chunks of wood. Maybe there was some kindling they had missed. She had her gaze on the ground, didn’t notice a low-hanging limb and bumped into it. She rubbed her forehead. “Ouch.”
Her head hurt like the devil. Maybe she’d hit it harder than she realized. She grabbed a couple pieces of aspen bark off the ground and turned back toward camp, staggering slightly. The trees seemed to close in on her like living things. She dropped the kindling and darted through the aspens, suddenly anxious to be back in camp.
As she entered the clearing where they’d camped, her boyfriend was nowhere in sight. Her breath came in short, fast gasps and her heart picked up speed. “Davey? Where are you?”
Nothing but wind whistling through the trees answered her.
Turning in a circle, she tried to spot him through the forest. But his bright yellow jacket didn’t jump out at her. She raised her voice. “Davey?”
Raindrops splattered her nose and she looked up. It was going to pour any minute. Davey had abandoned his fire, along with the small hatchet he’d been using. Why? Where had he gone? Maybe to go to the bathroom she reasoned. Another raindrop hit her nose. Maybe it would be best to get inside the tent. If the skies opened up like they looked like they were going to, it was going to be a gulley-washer within minutes.
She unzipped the tent and climbed inside. She took off her hiking boots and after unrolling their sleeping bags, wiggled into hers, fully clothed. She was cold, but who needed a fire? Davey could warm her up when he returned.
A shiver ran down her back.
If he returned.
Kyra watched the minutes tick by on her digital watch as the storm raged outside. Wind and rain beat against the tent like fists. She wrapped her arms around her knees and pulled them up to her chest. Davey was so going to pay for this when he got back. No sex for the rest of the trip. Maybe the rest of the month.
The zipper being raised jerked her to attention.
A man’s leg came through the opening. Then an arm in an unfamiliar red jacket. Kyra opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Finally she managed to squeak, “Davey?”
“No.” The man who entered her tent had on sunglasses. Why? Who wore sunglasses in a downpour? His lips were drawn in a thin, mean line.
She backed up against the wall of the tent. “W-w-who are you?”
Satan.
“Never mind that. Get up.”
Kyra shook her head. This had to be a nightmare. “No. Where’s Davey? And who are you?”
“Who I am isn’t important.” Mexican accent. “Come now, por favor.”
“I want Davey.” Kyra didn’t care if she sounded about five.
The stranger held out his hand. “Come.”
“No.” Kyra looked for an escape. But his wiry frame blocked the entrance. She began to shake.
“Let’s not make this unpleasant, shall we?” The stranger’s voice was deceptively polite. He made a come hither motion with his index finger.
Shuddering, Kyra backed as far away as possible. “No. I’m not leaving until I know where Davey is and who you are.”
“If you insist.”
She bolted on all fours for the door. The stranger blocked her escape and dragged her through the flap. “Don’t move.”
Too terrified to move, she did as he ordered.
He took a few steps away and when he returned he held a bundle in his arms. He tossed it on the ground at Kyra’s feet.
For a minute, Kyra thought her eyes deceived her. Her mind refused to believe the body in front of her was her fun-loving boyfriend. This thing in front of her was covered from neck to foot with blood. A gaping hole in his throat had let every drop of his life-giving fluid poor down his front.
His mouth was a twisted O. His eyes were closed.
She opened her mouth. Closed it. Struggled to breathe. She opened her mouth again and a keening wail came from deep in her soul. “Noooooooooo!!!!”
The stranger lunged across the short distance separating them and placed a bloody hand over her mouth. “Shut up! There might be people around.”
Kyra tasted Davey’s blood on the stranger’s hand and her eyes rolled back in her head.
~*~
Kyra came to, blinking. She couldn’t tell where she was in the pitch black. Her arms had been bound behind her back. Her cheek rested on a foul-smelling serape. Her mouth had a gag in it and she fought not to throw up. Her legs tied at the ankles.
Panic tightened her chest and she struggled against the ties to no avail.
“You’re awake. Good.” The stranger moved closer and she could make out the pointed toes of his cowboy boots. At least she wasn’t blindfolded. “Struggling won’t do you any good, my pet. I’m quite adept with zip ties.”
A moan gurgled out of her.
He patted her back like an upset child. “Calm down. I won’t hurt you.” He chuckled. “Not yet.”
Flopping like a fish out of water, Kyra tried to get away from his touch. The thought of what he had done to Davey drove her and she made it several desperate feet before he grabbed her bound ankles and dragged her back onto the stinky serape. “Now, stay there like a good girl.”
Tears leaked from Kyra’s eyes and she lifted a shoulder to wipe them away. She forced the image of Davey’s mangled throat from her mind. If she thought about it, she would lose her marbles. If she was going to get out of this, she had to have all her wits about her.
“I’m leaving for awhile. You stay put.” His footsteps moved away. By the hollow sound his heels made on the ground, she guessed he was leaving her in a cave of some sort. She moaned, but he didn’t respond.
Alone, Kyra didn’t know whether to be relieved or even more terrified.
If he didn’t come back, she’d die here alone.
If he did come back, she’d die at his hands.
Somehow, she had to get away before he returned.
She fought against the zip ties, and found her captor was right—he was more than adept with them. There was no freeing her wrists.
Using her right foot, she worked at the rope on her left ankle. Time and time again, her toes slipped over the heavy rope, but every once in awhile she’d get a slight movement and that gave her hope to keep trying.
Breathing through her nose became difficult. Her body was sweat-soaked, her clothing stuck to her like a second skin, but she wrestled on until her leg cramped. With a muffled cry of frustration, she flopped face down on the stinky blanket.
Think, Kyra, think!
What to do?
Crawling out of here, impossible.
Lying here like a trussed up pig waiting for slaughter, unacceptable.
With renewed vigor, she began fighting the rope on her ankle again.
When she thought there was no hope, the rope suddenly slid down her heel. Using every ounce of strength she had left, she shoved the nylon tie over her heel and toes.
Almost sobbing, she dug her toes into the rope and pushed. Inch by inch, the rope slid to her ankle. With one more mighty push, she got the rope off. Without the heavy boot in the way, it wasn’t hard to slip the binding over her foot.
Good girl!
No time to celebrate.
Keep going.
Panting through her nose, she struggled to her knees. Then with the will of Hercules, she made it to her feet. Leaning against the wall for support, she felt around wi
th her toe until she found her boot and slid it on.
Upright.
Wrists still tied.
But able to move.
With one careful step, Kyra inched forward. There was no light, no way to tell if she was going the right way or not. Without her hands, she couldn’t feel her way along the wall. Even though her mind screamed at her to run, she somehow managed to keep from stampeding in a blind panic.
After several painstaking feet, she paused to listen.
Footsteps?
Was that the killer coming back…or just her own heart pounding like a drum?
Trying to control her breathing so it didn’t sound like a running elk’s, she took another step.
And pitched face forward.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
January Devlin parked her little sports car at the Sheep Station trailhead and gathered her supplies from the trunk. She double checked to make sure she had everything, then with a grunt, picked up her overstuffed backpack and slung it across her shoulders.
She wished the others would have come with her, but the missing girls had them freaked out.
Death was part of the circle of life. While she didn’t seek it, January also didn’t fear it. She’d looked straight into its eyes, or at least the cold black ones of Dominic, and survived.
A cold wind blew across the back of her neck and she shivered. Winter was coming early this year.
All the more reason to perform her Leaf Fall Festival.
A place to let go of old fears and regrets and to cleanse.
The little valley where she was headed was the same place she held her celebration every year. Circled by golden aspens and pine trees, with a small stream running through it, there was plenty of room to pitch a tent and hold her ritual.
With a tingle of anticipation, she set off.
After an hour of winding high into the White Forest, January paused to catch her breath. The wind picked up, bringing a stinging rain with it. She pulled her full-length raincoat around her body and marched forward. The ritual had to be performed today, on the Mabon Sabbot, for it to be effective.
