She gulped. “You’ve stepped in a trap, and I have no clue how to get you free.”
* * *
Kent stomped back toward the crisis at the stream. Whoever attacked Lauren was surely flesh and blood, but as for finding him, the guy might as well be made of smoke. Of course, the “mystery dweller,” as Lauren had called him, knew this whole valley better than anyone. He could have a dozen hidey-holes. Their crash landing into his domain must have driven him into one of them.
But why did the dust in the cabin testify that he hadn’t lived there for a while? And why was he so fearful of them that he would start booby-trapping the place? Assuming, of course, that he was behind the stuffed stovepipe, the deadly rake setup, and now the beaver trap clamped on Phil’s foot. His mind found the man’s guilt a logical conclusion, but his gut begged to differ.
Something didn’t add up. Correction—lots of somethings didn’t add up. He was in a mood to start demanding answers, beginning with his motley array of passengers. It would suit him fine if Dirk the conniving jerk was the one in on sabotaging his plane, but sandpaper personality didn’t automatically make a person a heartless killer. Motive was the key, but how did he uncover the reason for downing the plane?
Excited voices up ahead alerted him that he was about to rejoin Phil, Neil and Lauren. Kent hurried his steps. He’d failed to catch the man who’d attacked Lauren and might be trying to kill them with his deadly tricks. Now, priority one was Phil.
“There you are!” Lauren exclaimed as he rounded the bend in the stream. “Did you catch him?”
Her gaze searched his, but he delivered a small shake of the head.
Her shoulders drooped. “Would you happen to have a clue how to get Phil out of this thing? I can’t treat him until we do. We need to hurry. He’s going into shock.”
The big man was deathly pale and shaking like an aspen leaf. Lauren had taken off her jacket and put it across Phil’s lap. Neil had done the same, and all three were shivering. He might as well join the party. Kent slipped out of his jacket and draped it around Phil’s shoulders.
“Th-thank you,” Phil muttered through chattering teeth. “I’m sorry to be such a k-klutz. I stepped out onto a rock as I was scooping up the water, but my f-foot slipped and this...this thing snapped onto m-me.”
“Are you in pain?” Kent asked.
“Not now. Most of my leg is n-numb.”
“Be thankful for that,” Lauren said. “And that this trap doesn’t have teeth. You could be bleeding to death.”
“Small mercies, eh?” Neil stuffed his hands in his pockets.
Kent knelt and began undoing the heavy-duty laces on his hiking boots. He’d changed into those and some jeans as soon as they’d retrieved their luggage yesterday.
“What are you doing?” Impatience seeped through Lauren’s tone.
“This is a Conibear trap.”
“A bear trap!” Neil burst out. “There are bears around here?” The man’s wide gaze darted here and there.
“Not a bear trap. A Conibear trap. Commonly used for small animals like beavers and muskrats. The jaws snap closed with ninety pounds of pressure, so—”
“We’re likely dealing with a broken foot,” Lauren finished his sentence.
“Almost certainly.” Kent finished pulling his laces from his shoes. “But if it had been a steel bear trap with those big teeth, we would likely be dealing with a shattered leg and major blood loss, possibly even an amputation.”
“So I should count my b-blessings?” Phil’s eyes went wide then his pupils rolled back in his head, and he slumped sideways onto the ground.
Lauren knelt beside her patient. “Can’t you and Neil pull those jaws open? Hurry!”
“Human strength won’t open the trap. It takes a surprising little tool.” Kent kicked off the laceless boots and pulled off his socks.
She gaped at him as he waded barefoot into the water and crouched over the trap. He’d thought he was cold a moment ago, but the icy current swirling around his calves sent deep shivers to his core. He ignored the discomfort as he tied one shoestring to the top loop of the spring, ran the string through the bottom spring loop and back through the top spring loop. Rising, he stood on the trap chain, pinning the trap to the bottom of the stream, and hauled up on the string with all his might. Slowly, both sides of the trap spring met. He tied off the shoestring and repeated the process on the other side of the trap.
“He’s free.”
“That’s amazing!” Neil burst out.
“Help me pull him away from the water.”
As soon as they got the big man up the bank, Lauren gently removed Phil’s loafer. Kent grimaced. Even through the man’s black sock, a deep indentation in the crown of the foot was clear and pronounced.
“The foot has been crushed,” Lauren said. “The precise extent of the damage will be difficult to assess without X-rays. But shock is the biggest threat right now. Any treatment to the injury will have to wait until we get him someplace warm.”
“We all need to get warm.” Neil hugged himself.
“Before I headed back here,” Kent said, “I stopped at the mercantile, told the rest about your encounter with the mystery dweller and asked them to bring up the wagon for Phil. If I’m not mistaken, that’s them now.”
A rattling noise grew louder, along with the sound of human voices. Many hands helped load Phil into the wagon, and soon they were all back in the relative warmth of the mercantile. Lauren oversaw arranging her new patient on cushions with his foot elevated and making sure every available blanket was piled onto him. The man was groaning and coming around to consciousness when Kent slipped into the back room to change into dry pants.
The sight of Mags’s blanket-wrapped body shot a pang through him. They had a shovel now. She could be laid to rest—at least temporarily until they got out of this valley. If that didn’t happen soon, they would be digging more graves. And if they never got out, who would dig that last one? The mystery dweller?
Lauren’s strong, lovely face appeared before his mind’s eye and reined in Kent’s thoughts. Morbid much, Garland?
While Lauren continued to work over her now conscious patient, Kent grabbed the shovel and let everyone know what he was going to do. Somber nods greeted the announcement.
“Want help?” Cliff asked.
“I can handle this alone. I want to, actually.”
Lauren emerged from her makeshift hospital, rubbing her hands. “What about the mystery dweller?”
“I’m the one with the gun. I’ll be fine. Cliff, you and Dirk make a quick trip to the old cabin. Fetch the container of jerky and a cookpot to sterilize the water Neil remembered to bring back from the stream. Maybe some of those canned goods, too. I think I spotted a container of kerosene. Don’t forget that item. The idea of the women moving into that cabin isn’t going to fly with the threat of the mystery dweller confirmed. We need to stay together here, but we can’t hide indoors every minute. Everyone needs food and safe drinking water ASAP. I can testify I’m starving, and I haven’t even dug that grave yet.”
Rumbles of assent greeted Kent’s summary of the situation.
“I’ll stay here and watch over the ladies and the patients,” Neil said. “Any chance you have an extra pistol?”
“Sorry.”
Neil shrugged. “Just thought I’d ask.”
Kent threw him a casual salute as he headed out to perform his sad chore. The best spot he could think of was right next to the plane wreckage. Critters might be less likely to dig where the smell of humans abounded. Besides, it was past time to get a good look at the damage under the belly of the plane.
The body of the jet took the edge off the chill wind as his shovel bit into the ground. The earth was hard-packed but not frozen. Yet. By the time his trench was a foot deep, sweat trickled down his chest under his layers of shir
ts and jacket. He persevered until he had a rectangle about four feet deep.
The crunch of footsteps brought his head around and sent one hand to the butt of his pistol. Lauren lifted her arms in mock surrender. Kent relaxed and took his hand off the gun. With his jacket sleeve, he rubbed the sweat off his forehead.
“Under the circumstances, we all need to get in the habit of calling out when we approach someone.”
“You’re right.” Her color heightened. “Sorry.”
“What made you come out here alone?”
Her chin lifted as a flash of jade eyes telegraphed irritation. “I didn’t figure an assailant would be able to come at me out in the open like this, and if he has a gun, having someone with me would only put that person in danger, too.”
“Fair enough. Doesn’t mean I like any of us traipsing around alone.”
“Except you?”
“I’ve got my equalizer with me.” He grinned.
She scowled. “We need to talk.”
“I’m on it with both ears.”
“Will you kindly stop being aggravating and take me seriously?”
He stifled a chuckle. Should he tell her he was doing it on purpose so he could see those eyes flash? Not if he valued his life. What was the matter with him? Was he flirting with this woman? The thought sobered him immediately.
“I am taking you and this whole situation very seriously, but the tighter the spot the more soldiers—even ex-soldiers—default to humor.”
Her expression relaxed. “I’ve heard that about people in other high-risk occupations, like police officers and firefighters. Believe it or not, nurses and docs can get a little nuts with the medical humor when the pressure heats up. Thank you for reminding me to lighten up. Taking situations—and myself—too seriously is one of my besetting faults.”
“If that’s all, you’re doing well.”
“I said one of my faults, but let’s not go there.” She grinned, green eyes sparkling.
Kent gaped, mesmerized. What was it with those eyes?
Lauren stepped toward him. “Since you’ve decided to be nice, I believe I will reward you.”
Surely, she wasn’t flirting with him now. Did he want her to do that? Oh, yeah! An ecstatic terror gripped him.
She pulled something from her pocket and held it out toward him. Slowly, he dropped his gaze toward her outstretched hand. Two strips of jerky? Air went out of his lungs like a punctured balloon.
She had brought him food. Did he want that? Oh, yeah! He grabbed the dried meat from her hand and ripped off a chunk with his teeth.
Lauren laughed. “Easy there, Wolfman. Should I have been worried about my fingers?”
“Not an unwise concern. My stomach was so flat it was starting to wrap around my backbone.”
“While you eat, I’m going to talk to you about my real concerns.”
“I can eat and listen at the same time.” He tipped a strip of jerky in her direction.
“I’ll hold you to that.” She arched a brow. “At this point, I’m the only one in your confidence about the tandem parachute and the implications that item suggests about a saboteur among us. Everyone else is naturally assuming that if the plane was sabotaged the danger was left behind in civilization. All their attention is on our creepy mystery dweller, but no one is on their guard against each other. Now, I understand there are pros and cons about letting everyone in on our secret. If we speak up, the innocent will be informed about the danger, but the mutual paranoia will be a huge obstacle when we need to work together to survive. On the other hand, the guilty party will feel threatened, and that will either make him ultra-cautious and less dangerous or ultra-desperate and more dangerous.”
“I vote for more dangerous,” Kent said between bites. “The dude engineered a plane crash with himself on the plane. He’s got guts—a high-stakes player—and he’s not going to let anyone leave here alive but himself. He’s already eliminated the main threat to exposure—his accomplice.”
“You don’t think our mystery dweller is behind the stovepipe issue and the other traps?”
“Let’s say I’m not one hundred percent convinced.”
“Surely, no one among us has a clue about how to set a Conibear trap.”
“That’s the only incident I think may have been a genuine accident. Makes sense that someone living up here by himself would set critter traps.”
Lauren sighed heavily. “So where does that leave us?”
“I chose this burial spot so I could take a good look at my plane without making a big deal about it. If I find clear, physical evidence of sabotage to back up the circumstantial evidence of the parachute, I’m going to go all bad-cop on a bunch of Wall Street executives. Nobody else is going to die on my watch.”
Please God, don’t let that proclamation be empty bravado. Especially not when one of the dead could be this brave woman.
SEVEN
Lauren’s stomach roiled as she hurried into the mercantile on Kent’s heels. The guy looked like he was ready to tear someone’s head off. Not that he’d really hurt anyone. Would he? Considering what he’d found when he examined the damage to his plane, she might not blame him if he threw a few punches. But they didn’t have a clear idea who deserved the punches, and she really didn’t need any more patients in her makeshift hospital.
The group was hunkered around the stove, talking—even Rich—but not Phil, who was hopefully snoozing with the aid of the painkiller Lauren had given him. All heads turned and chatter ceased as Kent loomed over them, holding up a misshapen lump of metal for their inspection.
“I want to know who this belongs to, and I want to know now.”
Lauren studied reactions, as Kent would likely be doing. Dirk scowled and looked away. Rich’s brows drew together and he blinked. Cliff gaped at the object, expression blank. Neil pursed his lips and rubbed his whiskers. None of them said a word.
Her mom lifted a hand slowly as if she were in school. “Might I ask what that is?”
“It’s a detonator.” Kent’s tone was thin ice. “Or what’s left of it after the bomb it set off took out my electrical system and sent shrapnel into my fuel lines.”
“It was sabotage,” Cliff breathed out as if it were risky even to say the words.
Neil rose and planted his hands on his hips. “Why would you think one of us planted the bomb? That’s nuts. We were all on the plane.”
“Yeah,” Dirk said. “One thing I’m not is a suicide bomber.”
“Lauren.” Kent glanced her way. “Would you grab that extra item from among my belongings...please?”
He spat the polite word as if it was a curse, but Lauren couldn’t bring herself to take offense. The stakes were too high. They were gambling that a little pushback would goad the culprit into saying something incriminating or taking action that would expose him. Wound tight, she retrieved the large parachute pack and handed it to Kent.
He held it up beside the detonator. “This is a parachute. It was in the cargo bay that can be accessed from the lavatory. One of you was planning to evac and leave the rest of us to crash.”
“But why?” Cliff burst out.
“Better question is how.” Dirk stood up and dusted off his pants. “Any of the rest of you know how to parachute jump? I sure don’t.” He lifted his chin and crossed his arms in a “so there” posture.
“I do,” Rich said. “Anyway, I jumped once about ten years ago. The whole experience was a rush, but I marked it off my bucket list and never did it again.”
“Funny thing with this chute.” Kent shook the pack. “None of you needs to know how to jump to use it.”
Lauren’s mom furrowed her brow. “That statement requires an explanation.”
“I’m with Mrs. Barrington on that,” Neil said.
“It’s Nina. Everyone, please, just call me Nina.”
“Very well, Nina,” Kent said. “I’ll explain myself, though one among you already knows the answer. This is a tandem chute. Two people jump in it—someone with skill and another person with little or no experience.”
Dirk snorted. “Just who is this genius jumper that was going to hop out of the cargo bay attached to one of us?”
“There were two people aboard my aircraft with serious jump skills, me and my copilot. And since I chose to drive the plane, not jump out of it, that leaves one alternative.”
“You mean...” Mom pressed a hand against her lips.
“Yeah, and happy day for her accomplice—or should I say the mastermind who either paid or blackmailed her into it—she’s dead and can’t talk.”
“This is crazy!” Rich shook his head.
“I’m not buying it, either.” Neil’s wary gaze fixed on Kent.
“You might want to rethink that,” Lauren said. “Kent’s got logic on his side. The bomb had to be planted by someone with easy access to the plane after Kent signed off on the pre-flight maintenance. He explained that to me while we were examining the bomb damage. Then there’s a tandem parachute in the cargo bay where the copilot did the loading. Sure thing one of us was planning to leave the plane with her. It’s no stretch of the imagination to conclude that the same person among us conspired in the sabotage.”
Silence fell for several heartbeats then Neil spread his hands. “But, like Cliff asked, why did they do it?”
“When we know why, we’ll know who.” Lauren searched each face for a guilty tick, but they all looked like they’d been told the world was about to end.
“Who would want us all dead?” The whites showed around Rich’s pupils. “We work for different companies. I didn’t even know Neil or Cliff before today, though I’ve met Dirk and Phil a couple of times in the course of business. And I sure have never met Lauren or Mrs. B—Nina.”
The group started babbling out competing thoughts and theories.
“Hold it!” Kent said, and silence fell. “There’s another possibility. The target for extinction might have been only one of us, but the saboteur was willing to kill all to make sure the one died.”
Rocky Mountain Secrets: Rocky Mountain Sabotage ; Rocky Mountain Pursuit Page 8
