Wyoming Mountain Escape

by Laura Scott

  Silver Creek Bridge quickly came up. She had to cross it before he trapped her there.

  Her tires connected with the first wooden slat on the bridge. From far too close on her bumper, Vincent revved his engine. Before there was time to have a clear thought, the truck plowed into her full force. Her car lurched forward. Faith’s head flung toward the wheel then snapped backward.

  She grabbed the door for support when another blow sent the full weight of her body slamming against her wrist. She screamed as pain shot up her arm. Keeping the car on the road with one working hand was difficult, but she wanted to live.

  Her grandmother’s home was past the bridge down the first gravel road on the right, but she didn’t dare lead Vincent there. The next turnoff was several miles beyond. She’d never make it that far. If she drove the car cross country under these conditions, would she survive? Through the swatch of visibility the headlights created, much of the countryside appeared still covered in snow, and the storm was increasing.

  Faith fought hard to right the car and keep it from slamming into the guardrail. She punched the gas and tried to put distance between herself and the vehicle that was inches off her bumper once more. The truck hit her again.

  Her car spun sideways. Faith screamed and did her best to control the car, but Vincent didn’t let up. He planted the truck’s bumper against the side of her door and shoved. She watched in horror as the truck’s tires coughed up smoke as he tried to force her off the bridge.

  Faith yanked the wheel hard to the left in a futile attempt to pull free of the massive truck, but it was useless. Her car’s engine was no match.

  She stomped the brake pedal with both feet, but the car continued to inch closer to the guardrail.

  The passenger side struck the railing. Metal grinding against metal sounded horrific as the car crumpled on impact. Vincent didn’t let up. The guardrail bent under the pressure of the powerful truck. Faith fought a losing battle. Trapped inside the car there was nothing she could do to prevent it. She was going into Silver Creek.

  Her terrified gaze shot to the water below. The creek was close to overflowing its banks and had to be five feet deep.

  The railing gave way with a terrible sound of metal snapping and bolts breaking free. Both passenger tires left the bridge. The car hung suspended in midair for the time it took Faith to pull in a fearful breath. Vincent’s gleeful expression would forever be imprinted in her memory. She teetered back and forth for a second longer then plunged into the icy waters of Silver Creek.

  The noise of the impact was so horrendous it had her wondering if the car would break into a hundred pieces. Her injured wrist banged the door again. She screamed and blacked out for a second.

  Freezing water poured in through the bottoms of the doors.

  Faith fumbled with the seat belt latch. It didn’t budge. Not like this. She wouldn’t die trapped inside this vehicle. She’d fight with everything she had to live. Expose Vincent for the criminal he was.

  Water continued to rise inside the car. It groaned under the shifting pressure.

  “Help me. Please,” she prayed and jabbed her finger against the latch several more times. The final try released the seat belt. She’d escaped her house with just the clothes on her back and the pieces of evidence she’d tucked inside her purse that would bring down Vincent. She wouldn’t lose them now.

  Faith grabbed her purse and phone before they were completely submerged. She shoved the phone inside the purse and closed it before she slung the strap over her head.

  It was a blessing the car had manual window cranks because the water had shorted the electrical system.

  Faith rolled down the driver’s window and eased through the opening. Immediately, she sank under the water’s surface and tried not to panic. Her feet touched the bottom, and she righted herself. Though her head was above the water, the creek was running swiftly and standing up against the current was nearly impossible.

  The cold water took her breath away. From where she stood in the middle of the creek, the bank appeared miles away.

  Keeping her eyes on land, she began walking. She’d taken only a few steps when she stumbled on the rocky creek bed and went under the water.

  Fighting back alarm, she steadied her feet beneath her. She wasn’t a strong swimmer in the best of conditions, but she’d never make it to the shore like this. There was only one choice. She’d have to swim diagonally to reach dry ground.

  One stroke at a time. Her grandfather had taught her that valuable lesson. When she was in the water, panicking was the worst possible enemy. Take each stroke and follow through. Keep your focus on your destination. She sucked in a breath, tried to calm herself and did as he’d taught her.

  Where had Vincent gone? She scanned the bridge above. No truck. She hadn’t heard it leave, but she’d been too focused on saving herself.

  As the car begin to settle, a sharp crack came from the woods above and close to the road. She recognized the sound immediately from the many times Blake had taken her to the gun range. Gunfire. Vincent was shooting at her. He was determined she wasn’t going to leave here alive.

  More shots landed all around. Barrel flashes lit up the woods. Vincent scrambled down the embankment. The shots missed her by inches. Faith ducked beneath the surface to keep from being hit. She swam underwater until she reached the opposite side of the car.

  “Did you really think you could get away? From me?” Vincent mocked. “There’s no way I can let you live. Cheryl’s dead at your house. I used Blake’s weapon to kill her. You remember—the one he taught you to shoot with. Your fingerprints are all over it. By now, my police buddies have probably found her body. I’ll tell them you tried to kill me too. No one will blame me for taking you down.”

  Those ominous words threatened to destroy her. Vincent planned to frame her for Cheryl’s death. Her murder would be considered justifiable by his fellow cops.

  “Where’s the evidence Blake left you?” Vincent demanded. “Give it to me and maybe I’ll let you live.”

  There was no way she trusted him to keep his word. Once he had the evidence, he’d kill her.

  Using the car as a barrier, she peeked around the edge. Vincent spotted her and opened fire. Faith ducked beneath the water. As she resurfaced, the purse slipped from her head and begun floating away. The clasp worked its way open. It wouldn’t take long for everything inside to be in the creek.

  Faith grabbed for it like the lifeline it was. That purse contained her only means of contacting anyone and the hard copies of all the data on the thumb drive along with Blake’s note describing his and Vincent’s crimes.

  She’d tucked the drive into a plastic bag inside her wallet and placed it in her purse before she’d called Cheryl. At the time, she hadn’t imagined a scenario such as this. God had planted the notion in her mind. If she lost those items, she had nothing.

  Faith dove for the disappearing purse, but the current was too swift, and it floated out of her reach. Another round of shots peppered the water around her, forcing her to retreat. Desperate, she looked around for some means of escape, but there wasn’t one. It was just her and a killer who was determined to bury her at the bottom of the creek. Along with his crimes.

  * * *

  Gunshots—more than one—had Eli Shetler sitting up straighter on the wagon. A short time earlier another disturbing sound had interrupted his tired thoughts. Metal crunching together followed by a loud splash. Something quite large had gone into Silver Creek. Undoubtedly, a car. But that didn’t explain the gunshots. Those worried him the most.

  Eli shook the reins hard. The mare picked up her pace.

  The bridge over Silver Creek appeared through the snowy downpour.

  Though he’d been back in West Kootenai for a little more than a month, everywhere he looked moments from his past abounded. Good times. Bad times. Those he and his wife, Mi
riam, had spent together reminded him of all he’d lost with her death. Silver Creek was no exception. They’d picnicked here. Taken long walks through the nearby woods to spend time together when they were courting. And he’d loved her so much. Even after two years, he couldn’t believe he would never see her or the baby they’d been expecting again.

  Eli stopped the horse before she entered the bridge. Part of the guardrail to the right was missing where a vehicle had plowed through it. The image in his head was unsettling.

  A little way down on the opposite side, a pickup truck was parked off the gravel road. Had the driver stopped to lend assistance? While he pondered these things, a half dozen more shots ricocheted from the creek below. This was no accident. Someone was in serious trouble.

  Eli grabbed the shotgun he kept for protection when working out in the wilderness and started down the slippery embankment.

  “Help!” A woman screamed at the top of her lungs. Her distressed voice sent Eli scrambling the rest of the way down.

  As his eyes adjusted to the darkness below the bridge, the sight in front of him was like nothing he’d seen before. A woman was in the water near a car that was sinking quickly. On the bank nearby, a shadowy figure of a man. He had a gun aimed at the woman.

  “Where is it?” the man demanded. “I want what Blake gave you. All of it. Now,” the man barked, and the woman jumped in reaction. “You should have stayed out of this, Faith. Shouldn’t have dragged Cheryl into it. Now, you’re going to die like her and your traitor husband. He betrayed blood.”

  Eli was terrified the man would shoot her right before his eyes. Acting on sheer instinct, he charged toward the assailant.

  The man whipped around, spotted Eli, and trained his weapon at his head.

  “That’s far enough.” The man scowled as he looked Eli over without lowering the weapon. “This doesn’t concern you. I’m a police officer.” He reached inside his pocket and flashed a badge too quickly for Eli to read it. “This woman is being accused of murder. I’m here to take her back with me.”

  “He’s lying!” the female yelled, her pleading eyes latching on to Eli. Something familiar about her startled him. “He tried to kill me by forcing me off the bridge. Now he’s shooting at me.”

  The reality of those words sank in. Why would someone from law enforcement try to kill this woman? Something about the situation wasn’t as this guy claimed.

  The man kept his finger poised on the trigger of the weapon. Would a law enforcement officer try to kill a man who had come to assist? Eli had overheard him threatening the woman earlier. The man might be a police officer, but he was definitely not following the law.

  “Please don’t leave me with him.” The terror on her face wouldn’t let Eli abandoned her no matter how much this man threatened.

  “She’s coming with me,” Eli said and moved toward the woman.

  “I told you to stay out of it. This is a police matter.” He waded into the water and grabbed the woman’s arm, yanking her along with him. “Let’s go. It’s a long drive back to New York.”

  “Stop right there.” Eli raised his weapon. “Let her go.” Though he was far from steady on the inside, Eli kept the shotgun trained on the man’s midsection.

  The officer shoved the woman away and strode toward Eli.

  “Don’t come any closer.” Eli fired the shotgun into the air as a warning, yet the man didn’t back down. He pointed the handgun at Eli and shot. If Eli hadn’t ducked in time, the bullet would have struck his head. He couldn’t believe stopping to lend a hand had resulted in a life-threatening situation.

  Eli dove for the shooter before he could get off another round. They struggled in hand-to-hand combat while his assailant tried to get the handgun into a position to shoot again. Fighting for his life, Eli slugged the man. Watched him stumble backward before losing his footing on the slippery grass. He hit the ground hard.

  Not giving his attacker time enough to right himself, Eli snatched the gun free from his grasp. Without a weapon, the man’s threat was greatly diffused, yet he didn’t appear ready to give up. He jumped to his feet, fists balled at his sides. With a look of pure malevolence on his face, he took a threatening step closer.

  Eli cocked the handgun. “That’s far enough. I don’t want to shoot you, but I will.”

  His attacker stopped short, realizing Eli had the upper hand.

  He glared long and hard before he dusted off his clothes. “This isn’t over, and you’re in a lot of trouble for interfering in a murder investigation.”

  The tingle along Eli’s spine convinced him it was a lie. Given the opportunity, this man would take the weapon from him and use it on Eli and the woman standing in the creek. What kind of police officer would do such a thing?

  “You need to leave.” He kept the weapon leveled on the man’s chest. “Now, before the sheriff arrives.” Though Eli had no way of knowing if some of his Englisch neighbors had heard the shots and called the sheriff, it was a gut possibility. People around these parts looked out for each other. And he wanted this man to believe help was on the way.

  “You didn’t call anyone.” But there was just enough doubt in his tone to make it clear he wasn’t certain. “And even if you did, who do you think he’ll believe. An Amish man and a woman accused of murder. Or a police detective.”

  Eli shook his head. “We will find out soon enough. One of my neighbors would have called in the gunshots by now. Unless you want to explain to the sheriff why you tried to kill me and ran this woman off the road, I suggest you be on your way.”

  The man hesitated for a long moment before he tossed the woman a venomous look. “I’ll be back for you and the stuff.” With that warning hanging over their heads, the man stormed past Eli and slammed his shoulder against him. Without another look their way, he stomped up the embankment and into the woods.

  Reality crashed down around Eli. His knees threatened to buckle beneath his weight. He’d never been in a situation like this before. One minute he was on his way home after checking out the new piece of property he and Hunter planned to log, and the next he was interrupting a murder plot.

  Near the road, the truck’s engine fired, and the vehicle screamed away. The man had left...for now.

  Eli snapped out of his shock and hurried to the woman who appeared to be suffering from her own form of trauma. She clutched her soaked jacket around her body and shivered. Once again, he was struck by a sense of familiarity. Did he know her? Impossible, surely.

  “Komm, my wagon is up on the road, and I have some blankets you can use to dry off and warm up. It’s best if we don’t stay here any longer. I don’t trust him not to come back.” A loud whoosh snapped their attention to the water where the car slipped farther into its watery grave. Only the roof remained visible.

  If he’d taken a different path home...

  Eli suppressed a shiver.

  “H-he forced me off the road. If you hadn’t come along when you did, he would have killed me.” Her teeth chattered from the cold, and she held her wrist against her body as if it had been injured in the incident.

  “Is it true he’s a police officer?” Eli asked because he had to know what he was dealing with.

  She nodded. “It’s true. But he’s a dirty cop, and he knows I can prove it. That’s why he tried to kill me. He’s a dangerous man.” She glanced up toward the road as if expecting the shooter to return.

  “You’re safe now.” But for how long? Eli went to assist her, but she shrank away. Despite his coming to her aid, she didn’t fully trust him yet. After what happened, he could certainly understand.

  She pushed her dark hair away from her face and searched his. “I’m sorry. It’s just... I was so sure he’d kill me.” She blew out a sigh. “Thank you for rescuing me.”

  Eli found himself swept up into the turmoil burning inside her troubled green eyes, which held fear
and suspicion. He wanted to understand what had happened here tonight because there was so much more to her story.

  “You are welcome. My name is Eli Shetler.” He introduced himself, hoping to put her at ease.

  Surprise showed on her face. “Eli? I remember you,” she said in amazement. “My name is Faith... Cooper.”

  Faith Cooper? His neighbor was Sarah Cooper. As he continued to stare at her, something about her appearance sparked the tiniest of memories. This was Sarah’s Englisch granddaughter.

  “Your grossmammi is Sarah Cooper, right?” He couldn’t hide his shock as he realized the woman standing before him now was the grown-up version of that little girl who used to follow around her grandfather everywhere he went. The one who tagged along behind Eli whenever she could. He remembered the time when she and her parents had left the Amish faith.

  Faith smiled at his surprise. “She is.”

  “I remember you.” And he did. The sweet little dark-haired girl she’d once been. So curious about everything. How had someone like her gotten involved with a man who was trying to kill her?

  “How do you know that man?” Eli asked. “He said you were wanted for murder?”

  She pulled her gaze from his. “He’s lying. He killed his wife who is—was—my best friend. He did it in front of me, and now he’s trying to frame me for her death.”

  Her chilling words were hard to believe. The desire to ask more questions was hard to resist, but they both needed to get out of here before that man returned. “Those are serious accusations. Way beyond what we can handle ourselves. We need to get the sheriff involved.”

  She barely let him finish. “No. No police. He’s a detective. The sheriff won’t believe me over Vincent, and if the tables were turned, I probably wouldn’t believe me either.” She stumbled over the slick path as they headed up the embankment. Eli reached out to catch her before she fell. Once more, he noticed the way she kept her left wrist tucked close to her body. “You’re hurt. That could be serious.” He indicated her injured wrist. “At least let me drive you to the hospital in Eagle’s Nest.” Though the town was some ten miles away, it was the closest clinic to the community.