by Robin Caroll
“What are you doing?” He waved the gun about. “You keep going sideways. What are you trying to do?”
Using the rock as leverage, she pulled herself up, glaring at him. “You want to get up to the parking lot, where the ATVs are, right?”
“That’s up, not over.” His expression told of his vexation. He pushed the gun in her side, jamming it against her ribs.
Katie flinched from the sharp jab and took a reverse step. She pressed the back of her legs against the boulder. “Christian told me last night they’d secured the four-wheelers on the far end of the lot.”
His eyes scanned up the hillside, then jolted to her. “You’d better not be trying anything funny.”
She held her hands in front of her body, palms outward. “I’m not.” She lowered her voice, using the same tone she employed when speaking to wounded animals. “Jerry, why are you doing this? This isn’t you. You’re better than this.”
Hesitation flashed in his eyes. She studied him carefully, mindful to watch his expressions. He squinted against the cresting sun. “What do you care?”
“I’m wondering what would push an obviously intelligent man like yourself to such a desperate measure.” Katie held her breath. Would he realize the flattery was false? Would he fall into the trap of talking to her?
“I didn’t have any other choice.” He broke eye contact.
This wasn’t an insane madman, merely a man who felt trapped by his circumstances, even if they were brought on by his own actions. “We always have a choice, Jerry. Always.”
“I’m a dead man now anyway. Marked.” He sniffed and straightened his stance. The snide look returned to his eyes. “You don’t know anything.”
“I know it’s not too late to turn around.” She took a tentative step toward him. “It’s not too late to stop this.”
She never saw him raise his hand, only felt the impact of his fist against her chin. The force of the blow knocked her to the ground. Her head crashed in blinding, white pain. Dots danced before her eyes, then darkness enveloped her in its icy embrace.
Chapter 21
Hunter’s shout brought Christian running from the woods. Paul stumbled out of the lean-to, while Orson grumbled. Christian’s face fell as he listened to Ariel’s recollection of Katie’s abduction. He stood with a tight jaw, fisting his hands, spreading them, then fisting them again.
Paul’s face turned white as a spirit haunting the mountains, as Shadow snarled at his feet. The dog bared his teeth and growled at the man.
Ariel touched Paul’s shoulder. “Hunter and I are FBI agents. We’ve been working this case undercover and know your firm is involved in a money-laundering scam.” Her voice dropped a notch. “We need your help. You know Jerry better than anyone. Tell us what you know.”
Paul’s bottom lip trembled. “Well, uh, I had no, uh, idea he’d go this far. He never said … this was never part of the plan.”
Hunter shoved Paul against the outer wall of the shanty. He pushed his forearm against Paul’s throat, and got in his face. “Tell me the truth.”
“O-O-Okay. Ease up.” Paul’s voice cracked. A sheen of sweat glistened on his bald spot.
Hunter released enough pressure so Paul could swallow. Shadow moved in front of Hunter, teeth bared at Paul while he emitted low growls.
Paul gulped in air. “I confess, we were laundering drug money through Lassiter James Accounting.”
Hunter dropped his arm and glared at Paul. “Go ahead, keep talking.”
“We, uh, would get the cash from the drug deals, then make investments at Lassiter James. Two months later, we’d cash out one of the accounts and give the cleaned cash back to the drug dealers. Keeping out our own cut, of course.”
Hunter’s rage became a scalding fury. “Who was in on it at the firm?” An icy chill hung on the tattered edges of his words.
“C-Carter.”
“And who else?”
“No one that I know about.” Paul’s admission did nothing to soften Hunter’s stony stance.
“So why kill them? Walter? Carter? Attempt on Orson? Why?” Hunter spit the words out with disgust. His anguish sat like a steel weight in his chest.
“We knew the FBI was on our tail. Jerry figured out the leak came from Lassiter James. He demanded Carter put together this trip and invite anyone who’d had access to our files over the past year.” Paul shifted his weight, only to have Hunter pounce on him like a lion on a gazelle. “He intended to uncover the rat who leaked the information to the FBI.”
Pinning him to the wall again, Hunter refused to accept the dull ache of foreboding. “Well, guess what—I’m your leak. Now, what else?”
“Nothing. I swear.” A spark lit in Paul’s eyes, only to be replaced immediately by a flash of primal terror.
Hunter released him and paced the trodden and wet ground in front of the doorway.
Ariel slipped handcuffs on Paul’s wrists. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you…”
Hunter drowned out the Miranda Rights. The shock of the lengths to which Jerry had gone left him immobile. He experienced a wretchedness of mind he’d never experienced before. And he never wanted to again. He clenched and unfurled his hands. “Ariel, I need the extra magazines you brought.”
She reached into a bag right inside the tent, retrieved two clips of bullets and tossed them toward Hunter, then took her service gun and tucked it into her waistband.
He caught them with ease, then shoved them into his back pocket. He pulled out his Beretta, checked the magazine he’d loaded last night after the bear attack, then shoved it back into the waistband of his jeans.
“I’ll go with you.” Ariel moved to his side.
“No.” His tone left no room for argument.
“I’m your partner. Of course I’m going with you.” She widened her stance, refusal to back down shining in her eyes.
Hunter recognized the movement of tossing of her hair performed in defiance. He shook his head. “You need to secure the prisoner and protect the civilians.”
She jutted out her chin.
“He’s in custody. I have to go after Katie.” Just saying her name sent stabs into his heart. He wanted to snap someone’s neck over the injustice of it all, yet knew he had to master his emotions. Letting loose the fury curling in his gut wouldn’t help her. He needed to be the professional his reputation claimed him to be. “Start moving the others out of here. You know protocol—an agent must escort the prisoner into custody. Call for backup as soon as you hit the top. I’m going after Katie.”
“I’ll go with you.” Christian moved to stand in front of him, Shadow at his side.
Hunter shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“I know this mountain, you don’t. And she’s my sister.” Determination marched across Christian’s face and sunk into his eyes.
“And that’s exactly why you’re going with Ariel and the others.”
“Do you think Katie would lead Jerry up the route she knows we’d take?” Christian snorted and shook his head. “Not hardly. She’ll be leading him to the top, but in an abstract way. And you won’t be able to figure it out, even if you are FBI.”
Hunter hesitated, weighing the information. “Are you sure about that?”
“I know Katie.”
“Okay. What way would she go?”
Christian shook his head. “I’ll have to track her.”
“Track her?” Hunter’s veins filled with adrenaline.
“Yeah, track her path.”
“Can you do that?”
Christian smiled, even though it didn’t reach his eyes. “You betcha.” He hauled in a deep breath, letting it hiss back out. “What’re we waiting on? Let’s go get my sister.”
Glancing at the dog’s soulful eyes, Hunter looked back to Christian. “The dog has to stay here.”
“He’ll track her even faster than I can,” Christian said with a glance at the Blue Heeler.
&
nbsp; “But he’s got a broken leg. I can’t risk him tipping our hand to Jerry.”
Christian nodded. He stared down at the dog, snapped his fingers like Katie did, and pointed to Ariel. “Stay.”
The dog whimpered.
“Stay, Shadow.” Christian turned back to Hunter. “He’ll stay with Ariel now. Let’s go get Katie.”
Rustling noises reached Katie’s ears. She slowly lifted her eyelids. Bright sunlight flooded her vision, sending shots of agony through her head. She pinched her eyes closed. Her head pounded as she tried to remember what happened. In a rush, it all came back to her: Jerry’s rage, the sharp pain to her head, the darkness.
She pushed herself into a sitting position. Katie sat on the wet ground, her head against the boulder. Flashes of pain simmered at the base of her skull. She touched the area, then cringed as more powerful waves of throbbing shot through her head. Jerking her hand down, she noticed the red, sticky blood clinging to her fingers. Nausea burned in the back of her throat.
Katie attempted to stand, but white dots merged before her eyes. She slumped to the ground. Her body ached and her spirits sank even lower. Where was Jerry? Would he soon come back to finish her off? She curled into the fetal position, overwhelmed by the torment of the last few days. Resentment assaulted her senses. Her mind defeated, her heart without hope.
Cry out to Me for help, Daughter.
Katie’s breath came in gasps and spurts. Did Jerry whisper to her, taunting her before he killed her? Her thoughts tasted bitter on her tongue. She closed her eyes, surrendering to her fate.
From My temple I will hear your voice. Your cry will come before Me, into My ears. Cry out to Me for help, Daughter.
She jerked up her head, sure Jerry would be hovering over her, mocking her with the gun. The movement sent spirals of pain bouncing inside her skull. She flinched, blinking several times, then scanned the area. No sign of Jerry. Once more, she pushed against the boulder, letting hope bolster her strength.
Her energy and strength zapped, Katie lay over the boulder. The exertion of getting off the ground wiped her out. She fought to catch her breath. Laying the side of her face against the rock, she let the coolness seep into her burning head. A pounding, matching the erratic beat of her heart, echoed inside her mind.
The torrents of destruction overwhelm you. Call out to Me, Daughter, and I will hear you.
Katie’s heart stilled. She held her breath, allowing the words to sink in. Dawning hit her as hard as the crack on her skull. Her voice croaked shakily as she whispered, “God . . . is that You?”
I am here, Daughter. Call out to Me.
Her teeth chattered, her beaten body trembled. Hot tears trickled down her face. “God, help me. Please.”
The crackling of bushes sounded to her right. Her breathing became labored. Her lips moved of their own. “God, I’m sorry I turned away from You. I was wrong. I know that now. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me, God. I call on You now, save me. In the name of Your precious Son, my savior Christ, please help me.”
A warming sensation covered her. Peace oozed over her body, drenching her in love and security. She relaxed, relishing the emotions wrapping around her. Katie closed her eyes, moving out of consciousness. Tears of accepted grace streaked down her cheeks. A sentence formed on her lips, barely uttering the words before darkness overtook her. “Thank You, sweet Jesus. Thank You.”
Dread and longing filled Hunter with each passing footstep. Fear walked beside him in the woods. Christian led the way, stopping often to inspect bushes and the ground. Impatience boiled in Hunter’s chest. The need to see Katie, to hold her and be assured of her safety, drove his every movement. He touched the grip of his firearm, as if to reassure himself the weapon stood at the ready. The black rubber offered him comfort. A constant companion in his line of work, the gun existed as his permanent partner, even closer than Ariel.
Christian led the way up the trail, quickly picking his steps. Hunter’s mind wouldn’t rest. Memories swarmed his brain, refusing to be placed in a box and ignored. Images of Katie stomped to the forefront of his very being. He relived the physical punch in his gut the first time he’d seen her, so beautiful and intriguing. Hunter recalled the sound of her voice, the curve of her face, the lift of her smile. He groaned.
“They went this way.” Christian moved farther to the left. His voice carried a brotherly hope, the belief that he’d find his sister safe and sound. Right around the corners of the mind, logic and reasoning attacked hope. With every passing minute, the odds of recovering Katie alive and unharmed crashed.
Hunter’s first case with the bureau had been a stalker-turned-kidnapper. While the young woman had filed charges, they had no proof her ex-boyfriend was the one following her, calling her, sending her dead roses and eventually kidnapping her. Weeks of investigation turned up nothing, not one single shred of physical evidence. The agents in charge backed off from the case. Within a week, they’d found the young woman, dead. It had been Hunter’s first casualty. He’d never forgiven himself for not doing more. The woman’s name, Misty Mulligan, haunted him to this day.
Hunter followed Christian’s quickened pace. Not this time. Hunter wouldn’t back down, wouldn’t be called off this kidnapping for anything. He’d give Katie everything he had to give.
Or die trying.
“See anything?” He pulled his way by using the oaks lining the hillside.
Christian glanced over his shoulder. “We’re on their trail. She’s leading him up, but strongly to the left.” He smiled. “Katie always was a devious thing.”
Hunter hoisted himself beside Christian. “Tell me about her.”
“What do you want to know?”
“What kind of woman is she? What does she love?”
Christian continued to keep his stare glued to the surrounding foliage. “Nature . . . the river . . . the trees.” He bent to touch a bush, then stepped two paces to the left. “She loves animals and rafting and peace.”
Flipping the information around inside his head, Hunter cast a sideways glance to her brother. “And God?”
Christian stopped and met his stare. “What about God?”
“Why doesn’t she have faith in Him anymore?”
Christian moved again. “We were all raised in a godly home, Hunter, if that’s what you want to know. We were taught Scripture and prayers.” His voice barely lifted above the sound of their footsteps on the wet ground.
“So what happened?”
“Mom died. Well, at least that’s what everyone assumes. Katie believes Mom just left us. Abandoned the family.”
Hunter hesitated, torn by conflicting thoughts. As a man, a son, he understood grief occurred on many levels. As a Federal agent, his mind demanded answers, details. He swallowed as they continued their ascent. “What happened?”
“A typical day, totally average. Mom woke us and got us ready for school. She took us to the bus-stop, kissed us bye, and went to run errands like she always did.” Christian let out a heavy sigh. “We never saw her again.”
“Man, that’s rough.” He paused, giving Christian time to recover. “Did anybody ever figure it out?”
“Dad hired private investigators. The police worked the case for months on end. She vanished without a trace.”
The trained cop in Hunter tossed ideas through his brain right and left. He bit the inside of his mouth, refusing to press the gentle man beside him.
“We prayed every night, as a family, for God to return our mother to us. Or, at least, to give us some answers.” Christian stopped, dropped to a squat and inspected a bush. He stood and brushed his hands off. “God never answered our pleas. Seven years later, my father had her declared legally dead and held a memorial service for her. Katie refused to go.”
“She still believed her mother alive?”
Christian shrugged. “Katie never said anything more after Dad petitioned the court. She took it harder than Gabe and I did. I mean, she’s a girl and needed Mom.” He
stopped and stared out into blank space. His eyes shone with tears. “She prayed her heart out. Walked around all the time, uttering prayers.” He stared at the ground for a moment, his chest rising and falling rapidly before he looked back at Hunter. “After Mom’s memorial service, Katie took all the Bibles in the house and shoved them into our old cedar chest. She clamped it shut and refused to open it again.” He climbed farther.
Hunter’s mind reeled with the information. Oh, poor Katie. He felt her loss, her grief. “How old was she?”
“Eleven when Mom disappeared, eighteen when Dad had Mom declared dead.”
Such a vulnerable age for such an unspeakable loss. His heart ached for the young girl, yet, a pull in the corner of his mind refused to be stilled.
Hunter stole a glance at Christian, who was clearly filled with torment and fear.
Hunter sent up silent prayers for Katie. For Christian.
Lost in his conversation with God, Hunter jumped when Christian laid a hand on his shoulder and pressed a finger over his lips. Like a bird of prey, Hunter froze.
The distant sound of sobbing carried over the breeze.
Chapter 22
A jerk of her hair brought Katie roughly to her feet.
She leaned into the pull, nearly doing a backbend in the middle of the small clearing as her head yanked back even farther. The force made her eyes water. Fresh, burning pain reverberated around her skull. She cried out and lifted her hands to the strands closest to the scalp.
Spinning her around like a rag doll, Jerry glared. “It’s time to go.” He pointed the gun at her and jabbed it into her ribs again. “Now!”
Katie limped along and rubbed her throbbing scalp, pushed by the barrel of the unwavering handgun. Devastated by her circumstances, her heart still soared over the treetops. God loved her! Even with all the denials, the accusations, the curses she spewed out at Him in her anger, God still loved her. Unbelievable, but God’s assurances stirred within her soul.
