Rocky Mountain Secrets: Rocky Mountain Sabotage ; Rocky Mountain Pursuit

by Jill Elizabeth Nelson

  Their assailant let out a roar and raised his knife. Still on her back, Lauren kicked at him with all her might. She connected with his ear. He howled, rolling away from Kent and clutching the side of his face with one hand. Unfortunately, the knife remained fisted in his other hand.

  Kent wobbled up onto his elbows and knees, shaking his head. Lauren scrambled to him and pulled at his arm.

  “Up you go, big guy!”

  “Get out of here!” His gaze shot fire as he shoved her away and turned toward the mountain man who was lunging to his feet.

  She staggered back, and a slight chill caressed her cheek. Glancing toward the source of the chill, her eyes widened. A passageway! Without a second thought, she darted into it. Since this guy was fixated on her, maybe he wouldn’t stop to stick his knife into Kent before he came after her.

  The passage was cool and slightly dank. The light from the cavern room illuminated only a short way into the passage. The walls looked like natural rock, not hewn out by man, so this was not part of an old mine. Where it would lead was another question. The trajectory appeared to be slightly upward along an uneven floor.

  Lauren fumbled in her pocket for her phone. Just before the pitch darkness swallowed her, she punched on the flashlight app. If only the light wasn’t going to lead her pursuer right to her, but the alternative was perhaps tumbling down some sinkhole. Getting lost in the bowels of the earth was also a probability if passages started branching off this one. On the other hand, if she could find a place to hide or a way to double back, that would be priceless.

  She strained to pick up on noises behind her, but she could hardly hear for the pounding of her pulse in her ears. The lack of sound was more than ominous. What was happening back there? Was Kent still among the living? Her insides cramped, squeezing tears to her eyes. She blinked them away.

  Get a grip. She had to keep a cool head and fight smart, or she might never again see the light of day.

  * * *

  Kent struggled for consciousness. He must have blacked out again. But for how long? The fire-lit room appeared empty of human inhabitants. Where had Lauren and their attacker gone? For that matter, why was he still alive? The man mountain could easily have knifed him and eliminated any threat he posed, which, as weak as he felt right now, wasn’t much.

  He lifted himself up on one elbow, and the leather straps around his wrists loosened. Between Lauren’s efforts and his own, the knot must have come undone. He shook off the bonds and pulled himself to his feet, using handholds on the rock wall.

  His head pounded as he squinted around the room and listened for telltale sounds. He took a step toward the exit from the cave, but pulled up short as a muffled scrape came from the opposite direction. Turning, he spotted a passage at the back of the cave. Lauren had gone in there? Not unlikely, since the knife-wielding hulk had been between her and the great outdoors.

  If he was going to overcome the giant he would need a weapon. His gun did not appear in evidence, but the pickax leaning against the wall was a lot better than nothing. Besides, it had a significantly longer reach than the other guy’s knife. Grabbing the ax, he headed for the passage into the mountain.

  As much as his feet longed to hurry toward Lauren, he proceeded with caution, stopping to listen every few feet. His own breathing was so loud he probably wouldn’t hear anyone else’s. But then came a stuttering thump like someone maybe tripping and catching themselves.

  Reassured that he was on the right trail, Kent continued but soon had to dig his phone from his pocket and turn on the flashlight. Lauren would surely be using her phone app to provide light for her feet, but how was her pursuer gaining illumination? Since no light showed ahead, he clearly wasn’t close enough to either of them to find out. He quickened his pace. If the mystery dweller had not caught up to Lauren yet, he could at any moment, and Kent needed to be there to thwart the guy—or die trying.

  Both Lauren and he were at a great disadvantage, because this guy likely knew the passage like the back of his hand. This was his territory, and they were the newcomers...and the prey. God, help us. The simple prayer had never held more urgency.

  The passage meandered a bit, but so far remained single, which on the one hand was a good thing. No chance of getting lost in a maze. On the other hand, it was a bad thing. No chance of confusing their enemy or even of doubling back.

  Abruptly, the passage widened into a cavern smaller than the one that served as the mountain man’s dwelling. Apparently, this was his storage area. Half a dozen long, narrow crates and three large wooden barrels hugged the walls. Near those stood a makeshift furnace and a set of bar-shaped molds. Kent passed his light over the containers. No markings indicated the contents, but the lid was ajar on one of the barrels. He hazarded a peek inside. Empty.

  Or maybe not. Something glinted at him from the bottom. He reached in and picked up a weighty gold coin. A buffalo looked back at him on one side and a Native American on the other. He let out a low whistle. If he was not mistaken, this was a very valuable coin. By the weight it had to be pure gold—at least an ounce. He glanced back toward the furnace and molds. Was the cave dweller melting down coins and transforming them into bars?

  His mind spun with a whole new gamut of possible motives for why his plane was sabotaged in this exact area. One seemed most likely. Somebody in their party knew of this bizarre mountain man, where he was holed up and what was hidden in his cave. The saboteur had intended to parachute down into this area all along. The deduction was solid, because greed and crime were best buddies.

  He shook his head and filed the knowledge away. No time to investigate further or even allow himself to get distracted from the primary goal—protecting Lauren.

  Unfortunately, two passages led away from this small grotto. Kent stepped into one of them and listened. Silence greeted him. He went into the other one, and a distant clink like a kicked stone met his ears. How close was he to catching up? He shut off his flashlight app and strained his eyes. Hopefully, he wasn’t imagining things but a faint glow seemed to beckon him onward.

  Kent turned on his light and quickened his pace, or at least tried to. This passage was rougher than the last, and the uneven flooring—sometimes dipping or rising abruptly almost like a stair step—kept slowing him down. It seemed like he’d been walking through the interior of the mountain forever. Could be a mile. Could be two. Or, for all he knew, in his half-disoriented state, it might only have been a few hundred feet.

  A familiar beep from his phone sent an icy shock to his gut. The battery was dying. He had to catch up to his quarry soon or be left in the dark where a misstep could tumble him into a neck-breaking fall.

  The glow ahead was growing stronger. His heart rate ramped up a notch. He was making up the distance. If only he could get to their attacker before the hulk got to Lauren. Kent tightened his grip on the ax handle.

  A scream echoed up the passageway. Lauren!

  Discarding all caution, Kent broke into a run. Please God, don’t let me be too late!

  TWELVE

  Lauren had done what she most desperately had not wanted to do—tumbled into a hole. That’s what came of forging ahead while looking back over her shoulder. At least it wasn’t a terribly deep hole, as evidenced by the fact that she was still alive and relatively unhurt, except for scraped palms and knees, and assorted bumps and bruises.

  No doubt her involuntary shriek had alerted her pursuer that she was in trouble. Not good. Not good at all. A shiver coursed up her spine. She sat very still in the dark, listening for him, but the rasp of her own breathing could easily be masking the telltale sounds of his approach.

  Her cell had flown from her fingers, and its light abruptly extinguished. Did that mean it was broken or just that the app had triggered off? Not that the answer mattered if she couldn’t find it again. Yet she was obliged to try.

  Still on her hands and knees, s
he began groping the area. No phone, but she did come across a decent-sized rock. She fisted her hand around it, liking the heft and its sharp edges. The story of David and Goliath moved front and center in her mind. She’d only get one throw, but that was all David had needed. A prayer whispered from her heart.

  Was she imagining things, or had a faint glow begun growing from the direction she had come? She suppressed her breathing, but could do nothing about the thunder of her pulse in her ears. Yes, a light was growing brighter. Was she imagining grunted breathing and the slap of footfalls? No, she was not. Ignoring twinges of pain from her skinned knees and bruised muscles, Lauren drew herself up tall.

  One throw. Make it good!

  Then she saw him. In the light of a kerosene lamp he held in one hand, the brute was every bit as fearsome as she remembered. A tremor coursed through her. He stopped at the edge of the pit she’d fallen into. Lauren kept her focus on her adversary, but her peripheral vision noted that she hadn’t actually tumbled into a hole. More like she’d stepped over a drop-off, and another one—who knew how deep—loomed only a few yards to her right, while the passage continued to her left.

  Lifting her rock into throwing position, Lauren backed slowly in the direction of the passage. The fur-covered mountain man halted at the edge of the drop-off, and his maimed lips drew back in a chilling grin. Lauren’s skin crawled.

  “Stay back!” She’d intended to speak firmly, boldly, but the words emerged in a raspy whisper.

  A deep rumble came from the hulk’s barrel chest. Laughter! He didn’t take her seriously. Her insides shriveled. How could she blame him? In this situation, she barely took herself seriously.

  The mountain man stepped off the ledge and landed with solid grace on her level. He now stood scarcely ten feet from her, still grinning and holding his knife. His rank smell invaded Lauren’s nostrils, turning her stomach. Lifting the lamp high, he took a stride toward her.

  Lauren threw, aiming for his head, just like David. The rock connected with the kerosene lamp. Glass shattered. Kerosene flew, much of it splashing her assailant. The flaming wick hit the man’s fur coat and ignited the accelerant. In an instant, the man was a human torch.

  Backpedaling, Lauren threw one arm up, shielding her face from the heat, but she could not tear her eyes from the horrific sight. Shrieking and flapping his arms like a wounded vulture, he staggered first this way and then that.

  “Drop and roll!” Lauren cried. “Drop and roll!”

  Her life-saving words appeared not to register as the man seemed determined to extinguish the flames by slapping at them with his bare hands. It was a losing battle. The greasy, matted hair and beard and filthy furs were ready fuel for hungry fire. Still shrieking and slapping at himself, the mountain man reached the edge of the other drop-off and tumbled over. Long seconds passed, and a solid thump terminated the piercing screams.

  Silence and darkness reigned. Lauren lost what little food remained in her stomach. How could she ever scrub this horrible memory from her mind? And yet, her faulty aim had worked its purpose. Her pursuer could not hurt her now. She should be thankful, and she was, but mostly she felt sick. Now, she was alone in the heart of the mountain with no light to guide her out.

  Her back was to the rock wall. Eyes squeezed tightly shut, she slid down it into a hunched crouch and let the sobs come.

  “Lauren.”

  Her heart tripped over itself. Oh, great! Could things get any worse? Now she was hallucinating voices.

  “Lauren!”

  The urgency of the tone stabbed through her, and her eyes popped open. She was no longer in the dark, but the light was faint. Looking up, she found a panting Kent standing on the lip of the drop-off with his lit phone in one hand and a pickax in the other. He was disheveled, dirty and the most wonderful thing she’d ever seen. Wincing, he released the pickax, sat down on the ledge and let himself drop the rest of the way. She rose and ran to him. His arms closed around her, and she burrowed into him, babbling like a crazy woman about a rock, and Goliath, and fire, and falling.

  Gradually, she managed to let him know exactly what happened. She lifted her head, expecting to see shock and horror on his face for her confession about setting a man on fire.

  Instead, his gaze held tenderness, and he laid a finger across her lips. “Shhh,” he said. “I’m here now.”

  Sniffling, she stepped back and examined him. How foolish for her to be bawling when he was the one who had been brutally attacked. Pain lines bracketed his mouth, and dried blood streaked one side of his face.

  “You’re hurt,” she said. “We need to get you back to the mercantile.”

  “I don’t think so. My phone is about to go dead, and I’m too exhausted to feel my way back down this passage.”

  Lauren cast her gaze around, searching for her phone. She spotted it a few feet away and scooped it up. The screen was shattered, and it did not awaken to her touch. Her teeth ground together. What could go wrong next?

  As if to answer her question, Kent’s phone went dark. She reached out, found Kent’s chest and fisted her fingers in his shirt.

  “We have to get out of here.”

  “I know.” He sighed. “Just let me rest a little while.”

  He slumped to the ground, and she settled in beside him.

  “I can’t let you fall asleep,” she said. “You probably have a concussion.”

  “Seems to be an epidemic of that around here.” He chuckled, but the sound broke off into a soft whine.

  “Your head hurts?”

  “Like a sharp-beaked woodpecker is going to town inside my brain.”

  Lauren nestled closer to him, and his arm went around her shoulder. Deep contentment soothed the turbulence of her pulse.

  “You know,” she said. “I should still be terrified, trapped in a cave with no illumination and no supplies, but I’m not. You do that to me—make me feel safe. I’m not used to that sensation, especially with a guy.”

  Kent tucked her head under his chin. “Glad I can be of service. Sorry I arrived too late to clobber the man mountain, but you handled yourself like a champ.”

  “Man mountain?”

  “You know how I attach nicknames. He was a mountain of a man.”

  She stiffened. “What if he’s still alive down there...in pain...we—”

  “—can’t help him, darlin’. It’s okay not to take responsibility for the wounds of the world. Besides, not only was he a very bad man who tried to hurt my very favorite good person in the world, I think he was in on this whole setup with whoever sabotaged the plane.”

  Lauren sat up straight. Which order of business did she address first? Him calling her his favorite good person—words that sent warm fuzzies through her middle—or his statement that the Neanderthal who tried to attack her could possibly be linked to the person who caused their plane to crash-land?

  “I discovered something pretty shocking back along the passage,” he said. “I think the saboteur intended to end up in Trouble Creek after jumping out of the plane, but the bomb exploded prematurely, sending the whole planeload of us into the valley, rather than just him.”

  “And Mags,” Lauren said.

  “Yeah, Mags, too, but I doubt the mastermind behind the sabotage intended to let her live beyond her usefulness to him.”

  “What was it you found?”

  “Do you remember passing through a room with some boxes and barrels in it?”

  “Sure, but I didn’t stop to investigate.”

  “I did. Briefly. The barrels likely held a whole bunch of gold coins like this one.” He pressed a circular, flat object into her hand.

  “Wow! This is heavy.”

  “No kidding. The cavern room also held a furnace and molds that could easily be used to melt the coins and form them into untraceable bars.”

  She let out a soft hu
m as a memory tickled her brain. “A few years ago, wasn’t there a famous heist of newly minted gold buffalo-head coins? No one was ever arrested, and the coins disappeared without a trace.”

  “We may have stumbled across them—quite literally.”

  “We’re still left with the question of who among the passengers is in on this deal.”

  “I know we’ve gone over this countless times, but do you remember anything—anything at all—from the time of the explosion that would give us a clue?”

  Lauren sat very still and racked her brain for anything else she might have missed. “There is one thing.”

  “Go on.”

  “You said the cargo bay could be accessed from the bathroom. When the bomb went off, Dirk was in the bathroom. I remember looking back in that direction and seeing him lying half in and half out of the lavatory door.”

  “Dirk! Our least favorite guy.”

  “Circumstantial evidence, to borrow a legal phrase. Most recently, Cliff has been on the top of our suspect list.”

  “Our?”

  “My mother’s and mine. She came up with the hypothesis that Cliff drugged his own coffee to divert suspicion from himself, based on the understanding that Dirk would attempt to switch places with him in a half hour. Since I would be nearby to administer the antidote, he felt pretty confident of his survival, only it didn’t work out quite as well as he intended, and he almost died.”

  “Devious deduction, but not out of the question.”

  Lauren shrugged. “That’s my mother for you. Devious.”

  Kent went silent and still, almost as if he’d stopped breathing. Then a soft whistle came out from between his teeth.

  “You know she’s been her own worst enemy in her campaign to get me to fall in love with you.”

  Lauren’s throat tightened. She already knew he didn’t have those kinds of feelings for her. But worse, she wished he did. “I’m so sorry about that. She means well. You don’t have to explain how off-putting it is though.”