by Marlow Kelly
Do you think he could’ve doubled back? He might be waiting to ambush us.” She tugged on the straps of her pack, making sure they were secure.
He scanned the area. “That’s a chance we’ll have to take.”
“I suppose it depends on his endgame. What’s his goal? Does he want to kill us or is there something else going on here?”
He hunched down to examine the dirt floor of the forest. “He was moving fast, following the trail. We can reassess if I see any sign he stopped or deviated from the path.”
“Lead the way.” She didn’t like the idea of being behind Tim. She was the cop. She should call the shots, especially when trailing a suspect, but she had absolutely no tracking skills.
Running up hill for forty-five minutes was harder than she imagined. It was made worse by her belief that Tim slowed to keep pace with her. At those times he made a show of checking for signs that they were still on the right path.
Tim put an arm out to stop her as they reached the crest of the mountain. “Shush.”
A chemical smell assailed her, burning her throat—gasoline.
They were nearly at the top. Ahead of them was a rocky ten-foot escarpment. Ben’s cabin was on top of the ledge. A dirt track lay to the right. She’d driven up the same trail the day they’d discovered his body.
Crouching low to the ground, she crept to the driveway. They would have to follow it to reach the house. She would’ve preferred to stay undercover and advance without being seen, but it wasn’t possible. The topography of the land saw to that. They reached the flat outcrop. Bits of yellow crime scene tape billowed in the wind. Whether it was torn or cut, she couldn’t say.
She unclipped her pack and slid it off, not wanting to be burdened with the cumbersome load. Tim did the same.
With her weapon raised, she approached Ben’s cabin. Tim stayed close behind. The front door was wide open. She was twenty feet away and could see the back of a tall, slim man as he emptied the contents from a red plastic gas can over Ben’s couch.
“I think that’s Ethan Moore,” Tim whispered.
She nodded, acknowledging his words without engaging in conversation. Blood splattered the walls of the house. The assailant must’ve knifed someone and then decided to hide the weapon in Tim’s house to implicate him. But who did he kill?
She stretched, standing on tiptoe, but was too far away to see anything. “I can’t let him start that fire and destroy the evidence,” Dana whispered.
Tim’s lips pressed into a thin line. “You are not going in there.”
“Yes, I am.”
“Okay, I’ll come with you.”
“No, I need you to wait outside in case he doubles back around and traps us.
He rubbed his chin and then aimed his rifle at the door. “Okay, go ahead. I’ll cover you.”
“How good are you with that rifle?”
“I’m a Ranger—a trained marksman.”
Of course, he was. He was probably more capable of handling this situation than her. But it was her job to stop the psychopath. “I’m going to arrest him.
Tim readied his weapon, resting the butt against his shoulder.
They moved forward in unison with her in the lead.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
She stopped on the first step. Booley’s body, or rather what was left of him, was sprawled across the floor of the cabin. “Dear God.” Nothing in her career as a policewoman had prepared her for the horrific mess. She instinctively looked away, but then spotted two handprints planted on the floor, a large red oozing mass next to it.
She wanted to leave, to get away from the stench of blood, death, and gasoline. She resisted the urge to suck in a deep breath and focused on the task. “Where did he go?”
“I don’t know,” Tim’s monotone was nothing more than a whisper.
“Stay here and cover the exit.”
He didn’t answer, but then she didn’t expect him to. He’d been a soldier and had told her he knew how to obey orders.
She moved forward, gun raised and ready. Without stepping in the blood, she entered the cabin, scanning the surroundings, clearing the house. There was no sign of Moore, but the kitchen window was open. Maybe he’d heard them coming and fled.
A creak in the floorboards made Dana swivel around. Tim stood behind her. She sighed and lowered her weapon. “I told you to wait outside.”
“I couldn’t let you walk in to this massacre alone.”
She appreciated his need to protect her, but it wasn’t necessary. “What if he doubles back and blocks our exit?”
“What if he’s waiting in here to ambush you?” Tim stepped toward her.
“You know she has a point.” The man she knew as Ethan Moore stood behind them, blocking the door. He flicked open a lighter. He must’ve escaped out of the window and snuck around the house, trapping them.
Dana aimed her SIG. “Close the lighter and throw it on the ground behind you.”
Ethan smiled. “I don’t think so. If you shoot me, I let go, and this whole place will go up in flames. My death will be quick.” He shook his head, his smile mocking. “But yours…yours will seem like an eternity of pain.”
Tim put down his rifle, laying it carefully on the couch. His gaze hard and cold as he stared at Moore.
A lump formed in Dana’s throat. He was surrendering. How could he? There was no doubt in her mind that Moore was going to kill them. They couldn’t give up. They had to stand their ground. Dana straightened her arms, strengthening her stance. “Back up.”
Without a sound Tim, launched himself at Moore, grabbing the lighter. The momentum threw them out of the cabin and down the steps. The lighter landed on the ground behind him.
The two men exchanged blows, moving fast. They rolled to their feet, still trading punches.
She followed them outside and aimed her weapon at the pair but couldn’t get a clear shot. She knew from her experience as a beat cop that stepping in the middle of a brawl was a great way to get hurt. Then she saw the glint of a blade in Moore’s hand and another as Tim drew his Ka-Bar. This wasn’t a brawl—it was a knife fight.
Tim grabbed Moore by the neck, shoved him back, and stabbed him in the gut, the jabs fast, and calculated.
Moore didn’t react. It was as if he didn’t feel the thrust into his stomach. Instead, he twisted, trying to get to Tim’s midsection. Tim curled, bending in, forcing Moore to pierce his shoulder blade.
They broke apart, circling each other like wolves. Both of them were bleeding, Tim from a deep gouge that sliced his upper back while Moore held a hand to his stomach.
Dana stepped between the men, holding her weapon on Moore. “Put the knife down—” Part of her wanted to pull the trigger. He was a crazed killer who had carved up her boss, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Was this hesitation part of her problem? No. It was like Tim said, she wasn’t a killer. She was a cop. She was supposed to arrest the bad guys, not shoot them. This wasn’t like before. Moore didn’t have a hostage. She had the gun, which meant she had the advantage. “Ethan Moore, I’m arresting you for the murder of Police Chief Levi Booley.
“Dana, get out of the way,” Tim growled.
She ignored him and focused on Moore. “Drop the knife. I will shoot you, but I’d rather charge you.”
Moore smiled, slicing the air with his blade, his other hand on the stab wound to his side, which dripped blood. “That’s the difference between us. I’d rather kill you.”
“That’s not going to happen.” She realized she didn’t need to repeat her threat. She would shoot Moore. She wasn’t scared. She wasn’t nervous. This was kill or be killed. “Drop the knife.”
Moore just smiled. His injury obviously wasn’t that serious.
A rustle in the bushes behind Moore caught her attention as a huge grizzly stomped into the clearing.
“The smell of gas mixed with blood was probably too much for her to resist.” Tim sounded calm, controlled. “Dana, back away slowly.”
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Moore swung around. “Shit.”
“Dana.” Tim grabbed her shoulder, tugging her backward.
Once she was level with him, they stepped back in unison. She holstered her weapon and grabbed the bear spray, never taking her gaze off the bear or Moore.
They reached the edge of the escarpment. Below them was a ten-foot drop.
“What now?” Dana asked.
Moore swiped the lighter off the ground and sprinted for the house.
The bear charged.
Tim shoved her over the edge.
She flailed, trying desperately to protect her face from twigs and pine needles. She hit a tree trunk, bounced, and hit another tree as she tumbled in a free fall. Tim grabbed her hand, almost yanking her shoulder from her socket. He dangled upside-down his legs wrapped around a branch. She hung in midair, gasping for breath.
Blood leeched down his arm. “We need to keep moving. Can you reach the ground?”
She glanced down. The crumbling dirt of the forest floor slanted beneath her. The angle was steep, but if she accounted for that, there wouldn’t be a problem. “Yes, I can.”
“Okay, jump.”
She landed, slid on the loose ground, but managed to use a tree trunk to stop.
Tim had no problem getting down. He grabbed a branch and released his legs, gracefully lowering himself until his feet touched the forest floor. Without a word, he started down the mountain, slipping and sliding, choosing the fastest path.
“Do you think going over the ledge will stop the bear? Dana panted after him. Her legs were shaky, which she hoped was a result of the adrenalin rush and not fear.
“No.” The knife wound to his shoulder blade caused blood to ooze down his left arm and back. He was leaving a scent trail that would be easy for the bear to follow.
“Maybe it went after Moore. He was wounded, too.”
Tim shrugged, but kept moving, working his way down the mountain.
“Do you think it’s the same bear?”
He stopped and turned to her, his chest heaving. “Probably, but I don’t know for sure. It’s hard to tell one bear from another, and no one’s going to take notice of distinguishing features when she’s charging at you.”
A loud whoosh sounded. A column of smoke billowed above the trees. Ethan Moore must’ve set light to Ben’s cabin.
Tim shoved the keys for the ATV into her hand. “Go warn everyone about the fire.”
She shook her head. Tim needed to back off. She now understood what he had told her yesterday by the side of the road. He could kill. Not everyone had that ability. It wasn’t that he wanted to kill, but he was capable of taking a life. If he crossed paths with Moore, he would end him. But she didn’t want Moore dead. It was her duty as a police officer to arrest him for Booley’s murder and then hand him over to Ramirez for questioning in Ben’s Homicide.
“No, I’m going after Moore.” She unclipped the walkie-talkie and bear spray from her belt. “Tell Michael about the fire and the bear. He can use the landline to call the Hopefalls Police Station.”
He grabbed the radio from her and clicked the call button. There was no signal, just static. He stared at her for a moment as if deciding something. “I need to go back up the mountain to make the call.”
They ran, retracing their steps, heading toward the fire and the bear.
He swiped at the sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand. “What makes you think Moore didn’t die in the inferno?”
“The fire’s a distraction, and it could’ve scared away the bear. But he’s still alive. It’s what I would do if I wanted to cover up a murder. Remember the gasoline? It was all over the house. And then there was the lighter. This was always part of his plan.”
He tilted up his head, squinting at the sky. “In these dry conditions, with the wind driving it, the blaze will hit the town soon.”
“All the more reason for you to talk to Michael.” She had her weapon and her cuffs. She was all set. “We need to split up. What’s the fastest way to get to the trails at the bottom of the mountain?”
“What makes you think he’s heading for the trails? Why wouldn’t he just use the ATV?”
“It’s a possibility, but I don’t think so. That vehicle has no registration tag or license plate. If I saw him driving down the road, I’d pull him over. He probably drove here with the off-road vehicle in the bed of his truck or in a trailer.”
He gazed at the ground and then scratched his cheek, frowning. She could tell he didn’t like the idea of her hunting through the forest for a knife-wielding madman.
Finally, he said, “You’ll need to head north. Keep the sun behind you. As you get closer to the bottom of the mountain, maintain your course, with the creek on your left. He turned and then disappeared into the brush, ending their conversation as he vanished, blending into the wilderness.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Tim climbed the escarpment and peeked over the edge. The bear was nowhere in sight, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t close. Bears were known to dig through the remains of a campfire, looking for any food that wasn’t completely burned. But this was so much more than a campfire. All that was left of Ben’s cabin were a few burning timbers. Tall, yellow-orange flames licked at the trees behind the house, and massive plumes of smoke wafted high into the sky. Tim tried to listen for Moore and the bear but couldn’t hear anything above the wind and the crackle and roar of the inferno.
Luckily for him, the gusts blew the fire northeast, away from him. It was like having an invisible shield protecting him, but he knew from experience the wind was fickle. It could change directions without notice. He needed to call Michael and then track Moore. There was no way he would leave Dana to deal with that crazed killer. He’d known she wouldn’t back down. That’s why he had told her to follow the creek because it intersected with the Hopefalls Highway. She could track it until she reached the road. And if the fire did turn her way, she could take cover in water. He hadn’t exactly lied, but he hadn’t told her the truth either. He planned to track down Moore and kill him. Dana was all about justice. She would try to arrest him and bring him to trial, but Moore was a different kind of monster. The idea that he would slice her sent a chill down Tim’s spine. He would do anything to save her, and if that meant lying, so be it.
He levered himself up and over the edge and then clicked the button on the radio, scanning the area as he talked. “Mike can you hear me?
“Don’t call me Mike.”
He ignored Michael’s rebuke. “I need you to call the Hopefalls Police Department. Tell them Ben’s cabin is on fire. The wind is blowing from the southwest, pushing the fire straight for town.”
“I see the smoke, and I heard you loud and clear. Making the call.”
“They also need to be on the lookout for Ethan Moore. He killed Levi Booley.” Tim spotted the bear tracks heading south into the bush.
“Just to confirm. Levi Booley, the police chief, is dead.” He could hear the surprise in Michael’s voice.
“Affirmative.” Tim crossed the clearing, heading for the burning remains of the cabin. “Dana has gone after Moore. I think my truck keys are on the kitchen table.”
There was a moment of silence. “Yes, they are.”
He didn’t get too close, but instead checked the ground leading away from the ruins, looking for any droplets of blood. “Meet us at the bridge where Molly’s Creek meets the Hopefalls Highway.”
“You want me to drive. I don’t know if I can.”
“You have to. The fire could trap us. We need an out.” The wind ceased, causing him to be engulfed in wafts of smoke. He choked and coughed, momentarily blinded by the gray-yellow haze. Then everything cleared as a blast of cold, clear air blew over the mountain.
“Got it. Calling Hopefalls now.”
Tim clipped the walkie-talkie on his belt. He didn’t need to ask Michael how long he’d wait. He knew his friend would do everything humanly possible to save them.
 
; He crouched down, inspecting the dark, oozing droplets. He figured Moore had flicked the lighter into the gas and then jumped out of the loft window. He probably hadn’t used the front door or the kitchen window because of the bear. It would’ve been at least a fifteen-foot drop, but that wouldn’t be a big deal to an athletic killer like him. Tim ran after him, tracking the beads of blood, hoping Moore wouldn’t cross paths with Dana before Tim could catch him.
****
Dana scrambled through the undergrowth, keeping the stream on her left so she wouldn’t get lost. The fire consumed the forest on her right. Yellow, red, and gold flames dance and licked at the trees, making them crackle and hiss. The noise was so loud she couldn’t hear her own gasps. Sweat trickled down her back. Every cell in her body told her to run for safety and get away from the raging inferno. Hunting Moore had seemed like the right thing to do, but she didn’t have the skillset to track a man through the forest. She’d insisted on hunting him down because she couldn’t live with the idea of a psychopath like Moore escaping. From what she’d seen of Booley’s body, she would guess Moore took pleasure in killing, and if he wasn’t stopped, he would murder again.
She wished she had Tim’s experience in the wilderness. There was a thought. How much wilderness expertise did Ethan Moore have? He obviously wasn’t a harmless protester, and he’d set fire to the forest so he didn’t care about the environment. Did he have anything to do with Ben’s homicide?
A loud, sharp whistle caught her attention. She turned toward the sound and spotted Tim in a clearing a hundred yards up a slope, away from the creek, and closer to the fire. Her heart did a little flip, and she sighed with relief. He was safe, and with his help, she could hunt Moore.
He waved and headed toward her, inching down the steep incline. A swirling mass of smoke enveloped him, obscuring him.
The smoke cleared in time for her to see Moore kick Tim in the stomach, launching him through the air. He landed in a clump of shrubs.