Protective Confinement

by Cassie Miles

  “It’s not easy to locate.”

  And what would he do with her while he was searching? He couldn’t leave her alone and unguarded. Even if she was locked inside the camper, Russell had a gun and could shoot out the windows. Nor could he entrust her safety to the other students. For all he knew, these kids had banded together to hide Russell.

  He pulled his cell phone from his jacket pocket. “I’m calling for backup.”

  Russell had obviously set up an ambush, and Dash cursed himself for falling into this trap. He contacted Flynn, informed him of the situation and requested helicopter backup and other searchers.

  “We’re in luck,” he told Cara. “There’s a chopper at the safe house. They should be here in a half hour to forty minutes.”

  “Not fast enough,” she said. “And what if he’s holding her captive? What if the sound of the helicopter makes him angry and causes him to…do something terrible.”

  Dash had never met Joanne Jones. If the Raggedy Ann doll on the bed was any clue to her personality, she was probably a childish, perhaps clueless young woman. But she didn’t deserve to die for that.

  “Half an hour to forty minutes,” he repeated.

  “He’s close, Dash. I can feel it.” Her tone was urgent. “If something happens to Joanne because of me, I’ll never forgive myself.”

  Her words stirred his blood. He could end Russell’s deadly games right now. His instincts told him that he might never have another chance as good as this. Russell was out there, waiting. He could be caught. “Let’s go.”

  They left the tent without a word to anyone else and jogged toward the north end of the canyon, toward the creek. Dash moved at a quick pace. His senses were on high alert as he scanned the territory, watching for any sign of Russell.

  The creek rushed and shimmered in the morning sunlight. It was only a few feet wide, a narrow swath that cut through high shrubs and buffalo grass. He noticed a footprint at the edge. Not much of a clue with all these people on site.

  “It’s uphill from here,” Cara said.

  He glanced back over his shoulder and saw no one. Nothing. He drew the Glock from his shoulder holster.

  This pursuit was unlike most of his prior experience. For the most part, Dash had been based in cities where searches took place amid streetlights and concrete buildings. Out here in nature there were many more places to hide. The irregular shapes of rocks and trees easily disguised the human form.

  Russell could be watching them right now. He could be as close as the leafy stand of aspen to their left. Or laying atop a distant mesa, watching them through binoculars.

  Wind rustled through the trees. Light and shadow shifted. The pattern of the landscape changed. To locate Russell, Dash needed to rely on more than his vision. Sense of smell? Sound?

  As he moved forward, he listened to the twittering of small animals and birds. The wind. The rushing of the creek. A twig snapped. To his left? He shot a gaze in that direction and saw nothing but a thick shrub.

  He needed to use his brain. His logic. Assuming that Russell’s plan was to capture Cara, he must have also planned an escape route. But there were no roads leading into this area. Where would he park his car?

  Dash closed the distance between himself and Cara until he was right on her heels.

  “We’re here,” she said.

  Directly in front of them was a boulder the size of a Hummer. Crude carvings showed stick figures holding spears and dancing. Long shadows stretched out behind them.

  Other massive boulders leaned against the pictograph rock and the creek spilled out between them. Dash was looking into the maw of a cave.

  More than likely, Russell was in there. He’d already chosen his position, hidden in the dark. He was armed. Walking into his lair would be a suicide mission.

  Cara whispered, “Do we go in there?”

  “Hell, no.”

  If he’d been alone, Dash would have taken the risk. He was an ace marksman, and he’d match his hand-to-hand combat skills against Russell any day. But Cara was with him. He wouldn’t take a chance with her life.

  Looking down, he noticed something half-buried in the dirt at the foot of the pictographs. Quickly, he stepped forward and brushed the dirt away. A hunting knife with a leather handle.

  Cara crouched beside him, staring down at the blade. “It looks like the same knife he left in the room with me. When I was his captive.”

  Russell had left it behind. Another reminder. Another threat.

  Chapter Fifteen

  When the other agents arrived, Cara insisted on riding in the helicopter with Dash. Though her heart pounded wildly and her common sense told her to back off, she needed to be part of this action, to find Joanne Jones. The poor girl must be terrified. Or worse. Would he kill her? Would they find her remains in a fire pit?

  Fear gnawed inside Cara. Not for herself, but for Joanne.

  Dash sat beside her in the search-and-rescue chopper. She listened through earphones while he gave instructions to the pilot and the other agent onboard. After his brief description of Joanne Jones, he turned to her. “Anything else, Cara?”

  “She might be purposely trying to hide. Russell was her boyfriend.”

  “No accounting for taste,” Dash muttered.

  Thinking of her own experience with Russell, Cara added, “And she might be drugged.”

  As they lifted off, she looked down at the students and George Petty. Dash considered them to be suspicious persons, but she didn’t believe that characterization. Not only had they been friendly to her, but they were scientists. In their minds, Russell’s behavior was an anomaly—a deviation from the norm. He wasn’t someone they identified with or wanted to emulate.

  She pressed her fingertips against the chopper’s window. The surface was cold, but she hardly registered that sensation. With all her might, she concentrated on searching for a glimpse of red hair, a flash of color. As they skimmed above treetops, the ground below seemed to pass too quickly for her to focus. They looped in a wide circle toward the high mesa above the cliff dwellings—a view that should have given her solace and peace.

  She tried to remember her former academic innocence, when danger was a distant thought that didn’t apply to her everyday life. Centuries ago, the dineh had sought refuge from their enemies inside those cliff dwellings. What would those ancient people have thought if they’d seen a helicopter? Some of the Hopi pictographs showed people in flying machines, actually, and…

  “Head around to the west,” Dash instructed. “Nice and slow.”

  She knew that he was taking them to the rock with the long shadow figures. Russell’s designated meeting place. When they’d stood outside that rock cave, she’d known he was there. Waiting for her with his soft cotton rope and his stun gun. Remem bered pain rose from the scar on her arm. Poor Joanne.

  Even more than with the other victims, Cara felt direct responsibility for this abduction. Russell had callously played on Joanne’s affection for him, using her to send them a message.

  Dash pointed through the chopper window. “There she is.”

  Cara looked down. On the top of the boulders where the pictographs were carved, she saw red-haired Joanne Jones. Her wrists and ankles were bound. She was moving. Struggling to her knees, she raised her hands toward the chopper in a plea for help.

  “I can’t land here,” the pilot said. “There’s not enough space on that rock and too many trees.”

  Below, Joanne flopped down. She was perilously close to the edge of the rock. “She might be hallucinating,” Cara said. “We can’t leave her alone here.”

  “Sorry, ma’am,” the pilot said. “I can drop down pretty low, but there’s no place for a safe landing. I think I saw a clearing back toward the east.”

  “I’ll get her,” Dash said. “Got a rope ladder?”

  “Sure do, but I don’t advise making the descent. Not with an armed fugitive in the area.”

  “I concur,” said the other agent. “He
could be waiting down there in the trees to pick you off.”

  “So I’ll wear a Kevlar vest.”

  Dash dug through equipment and hauled out a white rope ladder with plastic rungs that looked like gear from a children’s playground. Certainly not sub stantial enough for dangling from a helicopter. Cara didn’t like this plan. Not at all.

  But when she looked down, she saw Joanne raising her tied wrists, trying to stand up. The wind from the hovering blades churned the tops of pine trees at the edge of the high rocks. If Russell had drugged Joanne with the same hallucinogen he’d used with Cara, the girl must be terrified.

  An echo of that fear resonated in Cara’s chest as she watched Dash. She hated that he was exposing himself to possible gunfire. Danger was the downside to being a hero.

  When he opened the hatch and prepared to descend, she wanted to cling to him. At least to give him a kiss for luck. As he fastened the vest over his shirt, his gaze met hers. She mouthed the words, “Be careful.”

  In response he gave her a reckless grin. Damn his job. And damn him for enjoying it.

  He climbed down the ladder.

  The other agent positioned himself and aimed his rifle into the trees. Cara couldn’t imagine how he’d get a decent shot with the constant vibration.

  Holding her breath, she watched as Dash stepped from rung to rung. Dangling in midair with no way to defend himself, he made an easy target.

  She peered into the surrounding craggy rocks, searching for the glint of sun against a gun barrel. Fear tensed her body. Don’t let anything happen to him. Please, keep him safe.

  She prayed to Father Sun and the winds of the north, to all who had gone before. Anyone who would listen.

  He dropped onto the rock surface and crouched. So far, so good.

  Immediately, he went to Joanne. Using a pocket-knife, he cut through her bonds. As soon as she was free, she wrapped her thin arms around him, but Dash paid little attention. He was staring at a crevice in the rocks.

  “He sees something,” the pilot said.

  The agent with the rifle angled around. “I can’t tell what it is.”

  What was he looking at? Cara couldn’t see. The angle was wrong. Pure dread clenched her heart. She couldn’t bear to lose him. They had only begun to know each other, to care for each other.

  Dash positioned Joanne in a harness. When she was secure, he ducked low, ran toward the crevice and returned carrying a backpack. Holding on to the ladder, he signaled for them to pull him up.

  In minutes, he and Joanne spilled into the chopper. They were safe.

  For now, he was safe.

  WHEN THE CHOPPER TOUCHED DOWN at the dig site to drop off Cara and Dash, Joanne climbed out, too. She clung desperately to Cara’s arm. Her complexion was pale. Her eyes frightened. “You’ve got to help me, Dr. Messinger. I want to go home.”

  “I understand.” Cara had felt the same way after she’d escaped from Russell. All she had wanted was to be left alone to lick her wounds in private. “It’s really for the best, Joanne. These agents will take you to a hospital.”

  Cara saw the other students from the dig site rushing toward them. This hadn’t been part of the plan. The chopper was supposed to stop here only long enough to drop off Cara and Dash, then take Joanne to the hospital in Durango where she could be questioned.

  Dash came toward them. “Joanne, you need to get back in the helicopter.”

  “I’m afraid.” She tightened her grip on Cara’s arm. “I want Dr. Messinger with me. I need her.”

  “Maybe you two should talk.” He made eye contact with Cara. “Joanne might want to tell you things that she couldn’t say to anyone else.”

  Clearly, he wanted her to question Joanne, to dig for information. She gave him a quick nod as she patted Joanne’s shoulder. “You can talk to me.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Messinger.”

  While Dash held everyone else back, she guided Joanne along the road leading away from the dig site. They walked slowly—one halting step at a time. The whir of the helicopter blades faded behind them. Gently, Cara said, “I know you’ve had a rough time. Talking about it helps.”

  “Okay.”

  “Tell me what happened.”

  Though the redhead was only a few inches shorter than Cara, her frail frame made her seem childlike. Her voice was little more than a whisper. “I got a note from Russell to meet him at the long shadows rock. And I went there last night after everybody else was asleep.”

  Even though she knew Russell was dangerous. Now wasn’t the time for Cara to scold. “Go on.”

  Her thin lips pinched. “People were saying terrible things about him. But I didn’t believe them. He was my boyfriend.”

  “How did he get to the site? We didn’t see his car.”

  “He has a motorcycle. A dirt bike.”

  “What happened when you met him?”

  “He wouldn’t talk. And he wouldn’t touch me, either. We just sat there in that stupid cave.”

  Cara thought of her own experience with Russell. The drugs. “Did he give you anything to eat or drink?”

  “No, he ignored me. We must have been there an hour. And then I told him that I was cold and tired and he was a jerk. And then… He was so…” She stopped walking. “He told me I wasn’t worth the bother. I was nothing. Nobody.”

  Sobbing, she flung herself into Cara’s arms. She was so thin. Her bones were as delicate as a bird’s. Silently, Cara cursed Russell for hurting this vulnerable girl. “You’re going to be all right.”

  “I was so stupid.” Joanne swiped at her tears. “Why did I trust him?”

  “Everybody makes mistakes.” And this was a doozy. At least Joanne was still alive. She’d have a chance to put her life back together.

  “When he tied me up,” she said, “I knew the things they were saying about him were true. He was like a different person, and he scared me.”

  “When did he take you up on top of the rock?”

  “This morning. He untied my ankles so I could walk and when we got up there, he tied my legs again.”

  Cara remembered the knots that had bound her wrists. Climbing over rocks would have been nearly impossible with those restraints. “He didn’t untie your hands?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  The girl’s memory lapse seemed unlikely. Was Joanne lying to her? “Did you try to climb down?”

  “Russell told me not to move. If I did, he said he’d punish me.”

  “You didn’t try?”

  “Was that wrong?”

  Her watery eyes searched Cara’s face. Looking for absolution? Or for something else?

  There was one more issue Cara needed to discuss. “You sent me a message, Joanne. Yesterday, you told Dr. Sterling that you needed to see me and you would ‘catch me later.’ What did that mean?”

  Her gaze flicked left and right, looking for a way to avoid giving an answer. “I don’t know.”

  “Of course, you do.” Cara wouldn’t let her hide from the truth. “Russell told you to say that.”

  “I guess so.”

  “When did you see him?”

  “He called me.” She stuck her hand into her pant’s pocket and took out a cell phone. “I have to ask you a favor, Dr. Messinger. A big one.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Russell told me there was one more thing I had to do for him.” She pushed the cell phone into Cara’s hand. “I’m supposed to give this to you. You have to keep it with you all the time, and you can’t tell anyone you have it.”

  So this was the plan. Russell had never intended to kill his red-haired girlfriend; he needed her alive to hand over the cell phone. Had this been his goal all along? Had he drawn them into this chase for no other reason than to open a line of communication with Cara?

  “You can’t tell anybody,” Joanne said. “If you do, Russell will come back and hurt me. Please, Dr. Messinger. You’ve got to promise.”

  Time for Joanne to grow up. To put away th
e Raggedy Ann dolls and develop a sense of responsibility. “I won’t make that promise.”

  “You have to.” She actually looked surprised. “Russell wanted me to—”

  “You’re still helping him.” This skinny little girl was trying to con her. “Listen to me, Joanne. Russell doesn’t deserve your help. And certainly not your trust.”

  “But he loves me.”

  Cara could hardly believe her ears. “He hurt you. Abused you. That’s not love.”

  Her words set off another storm of tears. Though Cara felt sympathy, she wouldn’t allow herself to be drawn into another of Russell’s complicated schemes. This phone would go directly from her hand to Dash’s.

  AFTER JOANNE HAD BEEN SAFELY tucked into the helicopter on her way to a hospital and protective custody, Dash advised Dr. Petty and his crew to take precautions. Any contact from Russell needed to be reported immediately.

  Back in the camper with Cara, he drove toward the safe house where he’d be required to file a report on this incident. Another botched attempt. He should have figured that Russell would return to the dig. He should have ordered heavy surveillance to be posted all over that site from the very first day of the search.

  Damn it. He hated to lose. His mood was dark, filled with self-recrimination. And the weather reflected his frustration. Storm clouds had rolled in, blanketing the skies. The air was heavy with moisture.

  “Why the hell does he make everything so complicated?” Once again, Russell had led them on a Byzantine and ultimately useless chase. “That whole weird thing with switching the cars. Now, this fake abduction.”

  “He never planned to hurt Joanne,” Cara said. “The whole point was to give me the cell phone.”

  “There are easier ways.”

  “Not in his mind,” she said. “Remember what Dr. Treadwell said? This is a control thing. He wants to make you jump through hoops.”

  “He’s doing a damn good job of it.” If Dash had been keeping score, all the points would have been chalked up on Russell’s side of the board. “I hate the way he’s playing us.”

  “That’s not what worries me,” she said. “If Joanne wasn’t really abducted, it doesn’t count.”