by LENA DIAZ,
She raised her chin, trying to act brave even though inside she wanted to curl up into a fetal position. “Which friend? Sam, Tracy or Adam?” She swallowed, every muscle tensed as she waited for his answer.
His brows arched up. “Well, now. That’s a question, isn’t it? I think we both know that Sam’s a lost cause at this point.” He winked and grinned when she pressed her lips together to keep from crying out.
Sam. Oh no, Sam.
“I admit, I might have been a little hasty with your boss.” He let out a laborious sigh. “Regrets can be a terrible thing. Interrogating him first would have saved me a lot of trouble, for sure. As for that cop of yours, well, once again, lost cause. He’s not getting out of here alive. That’s not negotiable. I’ve got big plans, and him mouthing off to other law enforcement pigs could ruin everything. I’m not letting that happen. Guess that leaves you with just one friend to be worried about. Your fellow office worker, that Amazon warrior woman with legs that go all the way up. Tall women aren’t normally my taste. But she’s got some curves, nice melons. I could enjoy some of that. What’s her name? Tracy? Yeah, that’s it. Tracy Larson. You worried about her?” He leaned forward, his eyes blazing with menace. “Because you should be.”
Her stomach clenched, and she pressed back against the door. “Where is she?”
“In safekeeping, for now. But only if you start talking. My infamous patience is about gone. Where are the recordings?”
She flexed her bound hands, which were tingling in the night chill with them tied above her head. “They have to be in Sam’s office. That’s where he keeps everything.”
“Yeah, well, not this time. I’ve tossed that place high and low, went through every SD card and flash drive I could find. You and that Tracy girl are the only two other people who worked there. So it’s up to you to spill the beans.”
“What...what makes you so sure there are more recordings?”
He rolled his eyes. “You think I’m dumb? Your boss had date and time stamps on all of his pictures. And there’s a gap in them, on a very specific day. He was watching us for a whole week based on the other time stamps. And there’s one day smack-dab in the middle that’s missing. Tell me where the rest of the stuff is and I’m gone, like I was never here. You’ll never see me again. Promise.”
She could feel the blood draining from her face. He might have thought his little speech would convince her that Tracy was still alive, that if she gave him what he wanted, she could still save her friend. But after hearing his callous talk about Sam and Adam, and fitting the pieces together, she realized she’d been kidding herself all this time.
Damien’s tactics were to kill first, ask questions later. After killing Sam, he’d realized he’d made a mistake. So he’d taken Tracy. He’d no doubt interrogated her, and when Tracy had nothing to share, he’d likely killed her. That was the only reason Jody could come up with for why she was still sitting here, alive, relatively unhurt. She was Damien’s last chance to get the information he needed. He had to make sure it was secured, maybe destroyed, so no one else would find it. And once he did that, he’d kill her to keep her from talking.
“Good,” he said. “You’re obviously thinking hard about what I’ve said. Just hurry it up. Your friend’s life, and yours, depends on it. If you take too long, I’ll order her killed and cut the truth out of your flesh. You feel me, girl?” He didn’t wait for her reply. He turned away and stared toward the water.
Tears burned the backs of Jody’s eyes as she followed his gaze. She hated that she cried so easily. But in this case, maybe it had helped her. Damien had to have seen the tears she was trying so hard to hold back and figured she was on the verge of breaking and telling him what he needed to know.
He was right, of course.
She wasn’t a strong person, never had been. If she had any clue where other recordings or pictures were, she’d probably have spewed that information back on the Sugarland Mountain Trail. And he would have killed her right then.
She blinked hard, forcing the tears back. If she’d died up on that trail, Adam would have found a dead body instead of ever seeing Damien. He’d be sitting in an office somewhere investigating her death, or maybe others would take on that chore while he went off to do whatever it was law enforcement rangers did. The important thing was that he’d be safe, having never become a target of Damien’s wrath.
She clenched her fingers together, trying to keep the blood flowing as she looked through the windshield in the same direction where Damien was looking—down at the water. The second dune buggy was parked by the river now. Flashlight beams pointed down at the ground as the four men from that buggy, plus Ned and Owen, searched for Adam. Six men searching for one, all so they could ensure his silence, that he’d never tell anyone about Damien. Any doubts she’d had about Tracy maybe still being alive died a quick death.
The man beside her didn’t value life. And he didn’t like being inconvenienced. He’d shot and killed one of his own men to keep him from talking, or maybe to save himself the trouble of dragging him to safety. He was being greatly inconvenienced by Jody right now. No way would he do that if he had another option.
Her best friend in the whole world was dead. And Adam McKenzie—an honorable, kind man willing to risk everything to save a stranger—was going to be dead, too, if she didn’t do something to help him. Assuming he wasn’t dead already, lying on the bald somewhere, his wound torn open and bleeding out. But what could she do? How could she help him?
She wasn’t lying about the pictures. She really didn’t know where Sam might have hidden them if he’d stumbled onto something bad and wanted to hide it from her and Tracy for some reason. So where did that leave her?
For the moment, it left her with leverage. As long as this bloodthirsty idiot beside her thought she could give him what he wanted, he’d keep her alive. She could make something up, bluff, buy some time. He’d kill her anyway. Not much she could do about that. But if she could buy Adam some time, maybe, just maybe, with his law enforcement experience and knowledge of these mountains, maybe that would be enough to let him get away and get some help...and survive.
If the legacy of her twenty-four short years on this planet was that she managed to save Adam McKenzie’s life, well, that wouldn’t be too bad. She could take comfort in that—if she could make it happen.
She watched the lights in the distance. They were still searching, which meant they hadn’t caught Adam yet. If he’d passed out from blood loss, they would have found his body by now, wouldn’t they? So he was still alive. There was still time to save him.
While she watched the flashlights bobbing through the trees that lined the stream, she came up with a plan. Not a very good one, but better than nothing.
“Damien?”
He frowned and looked at her, obviously not pleased with her using his name. “What?”
“I’ll... I’m willing to show you where the other pictures are. But I have conditions.”
He grabbed her chin and squeezed it in a painful grip. “How about this condition? You tell me what I need to know. Period. And then maybe I don’t kill you.”
She jerked her head, but he only tightened his fingers, the nails biting into her skin.
“Kill me and those pictures will be found and made public. I guarantee it. I’m the one in charge of storing all our case files. And part of that responsibility is making sure the files are sent back to Sam if something happens to me. It’s...it’s in my will, the location of those files. It’ll all come out. Whoever handles Sam’s estate will get the files. Then they’ll be made public.”
“You’re lying. You’re a kid, probably fresh out of college. You don’t even have a will.”
“Oh, really? I’m a criminal justice major and I work for a private investigator. You think my professors, and Sam, didn’t drill into me the importance of ensuring that I have a will, and
that any important documents are preserved and turned over to the executor of that will upon my death?”
She wasn’t lying about that. Her professors and Sam had drilled that information into her. But the glaring flaw in her story was that the papers, and pictures, that she’d mentioned in her will were of course her own, not Sam’s. Her storage unit was full of her cameras and SD cards and file cabinets loaded with pictures that she’d taken as part of her other job, as a professional photographer. She had mentioned the unit in her will and left a copy of her key with the lawyer who’d drawn it up. That was part of securing her assets. Not Sam’s.
But Damien didn’t know that.
If she could get him to believe her now, and take her to her storage unit, he could spend days going through all her SD cards looking for the specific pictures he believed to be there. That would buy her a little time, hopefully enough to escape. If not, maybe she’d at least be able to get a note under a door to another storage unit, or somehow leave it for someone else to find, a note that would let them know about Adam so they could send him help.
“Load up your guys into the buggies and take me back to town. If you do that, if you leave Adam alone, I’ll take you to where the pictures are stored. And you’ll let Tracy go. She’s safe and sound, like you said, right?”
She bit her bottom lip, trying to look hopeful, even though she was convinced that her friend was already dead.
He straightened in his seat. “Sure, sure. She’s safe and sound. I’ll take you back to town, get the pictures and both of you will go free.”
“And Ranger McKenzie? What about him?”
His jaw tightened. “He’s a threat to me, him being a cop and all.” His gaze darted back and forth as he appeared to consider her deal. “Okay, my plans will be taken care of in the next few days. I can pull my guys back, have them watch the trails to make sure your cop doesn’t find his way back, for two days. After that, it won’t matter. We’ll be gone. Of course, I’ll have to accommodate you as a guest for those two days as well. You understand. But after that, I’ll let you go—if you take me to the pictures.”
“And Tracy? You’ll let her go, too?”
“Oh, right, right. Her too. Do we have a deal?”
Her heart shattered at how casual he was about Tracy. He’d already forgotten about her. It was so hard to keep up her pretense without giving in to grief, to pretend she was buying the snake oil this viper was selling. “Cut my hands free and we’ll shake on it.”
He snickered. “No can do. You’ll try to get away.”
“It’s not like we can drive back into Gatlinburg with my hands tied to the roll bar. I’m not going to try to escape. I’m not betting Adam’s or Tracy’s lives on that.”
“I’ll cross that bridge when we get there. Your hands stay tied.”
She shrugged, as if it didn’t matter. Her hands really were going numb. But mainly she’d wanted them free to give her more options. Like maybe she could grab his gun. But he was too careful for that.
“We have a deal?” she asked.
“We do.”
She nodded toward the stream. “Your men?”
“Oh, of course.” He was all smiles and acting like her friend now that he thought he was going to get what he wanted.
He radioed the change in plans. “Got that, boys?”
“Got it, boss,” Owen answered.
Damien frowned. “Why do you have the radio instead of Ned?”
A pause, then, “Ned was worried the chatter would warn the cop. He didn’t want the radio. He gave it to me so he could track him.”
As Damien took the opportunity to tell Owen what an idiot he thought he was, Jody tried to focus on the coming challenge, how to draw the time out once they got to the storage unit. Was there something she could use inside to try to get word to someone to come help Adam? Not that she believed that Damien would truly follow through, that he’d pull all of his men off the search permanently. He’d said “your cut” earlier, which implied there was money riding on whatever Sam had seen. He wasn’t going to risk Adam making it out of here and ruining that. But at least getting them all out of these mountains for the time being, until Damien could get more men out here searching, would give Adam a head start.
The lawn mower–type roar of the second buggy started up in the distance. All she could see were the beams from flashlights bouncing around as, she assumed, the men got into the buggy. Then the flashlights flicked off. She could tell there were men in the buggy. But she had no way of counting them from this far away.
“Looks like they’re ready,” Damien announced. “They’ll follow us out of the mountains, like I promised.” He started up the engine. It sputtered then caught, adding its dull, throaty roar to the sound of the other buggy that was idling down by the water and hadn’t yet moved.
“I need to see them,” she insisted. “I need to see six men in that buggy. Then they can take the lead. We’ll follow them out. I have to make sure they’re all there, that none of them are looking for Adam.”
His eyes narrowed. “You thinking I ain’t holding up my end of our deal? You calling me a liar?”
“Trust but verify.”
He surprised her by laughing. “You’re a lot more like me than you probably think you are. Wheeling and dealing, probably lying but playing the innocent.” He laughed again. “You think I don’t see that hamster wheel spinning around in your head a hundred miles an hour? You think you’re clever, getting me to call off the search and let you and your friend go. If I thought there was a good chance of your boyfriend making it out of here in the next twenty-four hours, I wouldn’t go along with whatever game you’re playing. Just make sure you haven’t outsmarted yourself. ’Cause if you don’t take me to those pictures, I’m not drawing this out any longer. I’ll slit your throat and take my chances. And I’ll come back here personally and kill that cop.”
He floored the gas and the buggy took off, bumping over the rocky field.
Jody squinted toward the other buggy, trying to make out the different silhouettes. The one in the driver’s seat was most likely Owen, because he was leaning back against the headrest as if bored, probably whining to everyone else about being cold or something. The others seemed to have their backs to them, looking out at the water.
She tensed. Had they seen something? If Adam was hiding and had made some kind of noise, would they draw their weapons and shoot him, in spite of the fragile deal she had with Damien?
The buggy pulled to a stop perpendicular to the other one, headlights illuminating the group of men.
Jody sucked in a shocked breath.
“What the—” Damien stood up in his seat to get a better view.
There weren’t six men in the buggy. There were only five. Ned was missing. But the rest of them were bound and gagged, including Owen. Their own clothes had been used to tie them up. All of them were shirtless. Shoestrings tied their hands together.
Damien let out a guttural roar of rage and slammed the gas, whipping the steering wheel hard left. The buggy spun in the dirt, then took off in the direction of the Sugarland Trail, leaving a wide-eyed and gagged Owen behind along with the other men. A tree loomed up ahead. Damien turned the wheel to avoid it. The headlights suddenly revealed a man standing in their path, about fifty yards ahead, aiming a rifle directly at them.
It was Adam. He was alive!
Damien floored the gas, heading right for him.
Chapter Thirteen
The dune buggy barreled down on Adam. He didn’t move out of the way. He carefully aimed his rifle at the driver’s side of the windshield, painfully aware that Jody was just a few feet away from the driver. He squeezed the trigger.
Bam!
He heard the crack of the windshield and guttural cursing from behind the blinding headlights. Had he hit Damien? Had he hit Jody? That possibility had his stomach c
lenching with dread. But he’d had to take the shot. If he let Damien take her out of these mountains, she was as good as dead. He’d had to risk it.
The buggy was still barreling down on him. He aimed for the driver’s side headlight, then lowered the rifle bore to just beneath it, going for the tire.
Bam! Whoosh!
The left front tire blew. The buggy hop-skipped sideways. The headlights arced away from him, and he got his first clear look at Jody. Her eyes were wide with fright, but she seemed okay. Relief flooded through him, but not for long. The buggy bounced like crazy, sliding toward him. Damien was wrestling for control with his one good arm, even as he shrugged off the sling on his bad arm. Moonlight glinted off the pistol clutched awkwardly in his left hand, pointing at Adam.
Adam leveled the rifle again.
“No!” Jody yelled. She yanked herself up in the air toward the roll bar and slammed her legs into Damien’s shoulders. The pistol went flying.
Adam jerked his rifle up so he wouldn’t hit her.
The buggy made a sickening lurch, then careened toward him.
Adam dived out of the way, rolling across the ground, the buggy coming to a bouncing stop about ten yards away, miraculously still upright.
His left leg was on fire, but he fought through the pain, limping as fast as he could to reach the buggy. He rounded the driver’s seat, aiming his rifle inside. The seat was empty. Damien was gone.
