“Right.”
“It was because of my ex-husband. I told you what he did. They’re still investigating him.”
Linda shook her head, as if the scenario she’d invented was so real to her it was all the proof she needed. “You were going to bring Talbot down. You were going to bring me down. Anthony was right to do what he did. He didn’t have any other choice.”
“Linda, Mr. Barstow murdered three people.”
“That wasn’t supposed to happen. That was all your fault. It was supposed to be a quick shot. Just you. A hunting accident. Then it was going to be all over.”
“You knew about this from the beginning?”
A car door slammed outside.
“Not before you went on the trip. But Anthony explained it to me after. He was watching out for me. He was watching out for everyone at Talbot.”
The door to the trailer rattled.
Linda smiled and moved to open it. “You were so set on bringing us all down? Well, now you’re going to pay.”
______
Jace willed the motorbike to make it up the swell in the mountain road. It coughed. It choked. It died again.
Damn.
He climbed off the bike and took another look. Hell if he knew what was wrong with it. He’d even put gas in it before he’d left town, thinking it might be low, but that hadn’t changed anything. He should have learned more about fixing engines when he was a teen.
He missed Dirk’s car, not that they could have kept it. Not a good idea, driving a dead man’s car. Especially when you’re wanted for killing him.
Jace gave the bike a little twist of gas and tried to start it. It took on the third try, resuming its coughing and choking the rest of the way to the cabin.
At least he’d made it.
He swung his leg off the bike, careful of the laptop. He was looking forward to plopping this baby in front of Shanna. She might be angry. She might even hate him. He could live with all that. As long as they could find the answers they needed and end the danger she was in, he could live with just about anything.
He opened the small garage door and wheeled the bike inside. He paused at the spot the bikes were parked and blinked, trying to get his eyes to adjust to the dimness. But the problem wasn’t his sight. It was the other motorbike. It was gone.
And that meant Shanna was, too.
______
Mr. Barstow’s broad shoulders and Armani suit looked out of place in the cramped quarters of the run-down trailer. When he’d arrived, he’d taken the gun from Linda and held it on Shanna while Linda tied her hands and feet. Then he’d ordered Linda to lock the little girl in the bedroom so he and Shanna could talk.
Letting Emily go was the hardest thing Shanna had ever done. She could still hear Em crying through the paper thin wall.
Barstow set the gun on the table. Placing a palm on either side of it, he leaned forward and stared at her with his probing blue eyes. The overhead light gleamed off his bald spot. “Dirk Simon took something from my office. I want it back.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. If he took something, I sure don’t have it.”
“You don’t fool me, Shanna. You never have.”
“You sure fooled me. I thought you were a decent person.”
“I am. To those who treat me decently. Isn’t that right, Linda?”
Linda leaned in the corner, her arms crossed in front of her, pulling in. As though if she made herself small enough, she would disappear. “Just give him what he wants, Shanna. He’s going to get it anyway. You can’t win.”
Shanna felt the bile rise in the back of her throat. Barstow made her sick, but seeing Linda cower to his will was worse. Shanna didn’t know why she hadn’t recognized what was going on before. “So let me guess. You two are having an affair.”
Linda pushed up from the wall and slipped into the bedroom where she’d locked Emily, leaving Shanna alone with the boss.
“I’m disappointed in you, Shanna.” Mr. Barstow’s expression didn’t change. He looked so calm, as if this was any other business meeting, just a little rebuke for a wayward employee. “I didn’t want any of this to happen. You’re the one who forced it. All I wanted was a little more time. Time to save my company, put it back on its feet. There are a lot of people relying on jobs Talbot provides. Hell, the whole town wouldn’t exist if not for my company. And you’re trying to destroy it.”
Shanna said nothing. Let him blame her for all the ills of the world. She didn’t care. As long as she took all the blame he had to give, maybe he would just call the police and have them put her in jail. At least then Em would be safe.
But she feared that wasn’t what he had in mind.
“Maybe your friend has the computer.”
Shanna’s chest tightened. Jace should make it back to the cabin soon. When he discovered her gone, he’d come looking for her. But he’d never find this trailer. She‘d never told him where it was.
“The guy at the office? Cowboy hat? Where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
“I think you do.”
“I don’t. I swear. He left sometime this morning.”
“Left from where?”
She shook her head. She couldn’t tell him about the cabin. What if Jace was already back? Once he had the laptop, she knew he’d return.
“Shanna, I don’t want to ask you again.”
“I already told you. I don’t know.”
“If you think I’m going to risk having some cowboy muddling things up after all I’ve been through, you sure didn’t learn anything in your time working for Talbot.”
She looked down at her feet.
“Okay, if that’s the way you want to do it.” Barstow stood up from his chair.
She braced herself. She didn’t know what he was planning, but she wouldn’t be surprised if it involved pain. Mr. Barstow might seem calm on the outside, but there was something brutal about him. An energy. A scent in the air. Of course, she’d seen firsthand what he was capable of. She tried not to flinch as he stepped toward her.
He passed the couch she was sitting on and disappeared into the bedroom.
Oh, God. Fear ripped through her. Mind-numbing panic.
He emerged, holding Emily by the hand.
Shanna looked into her daughter’s frightened eyes and started to shake.
“Okay, Shanna, let’s try this again. Where can I find the cowboy?” He pointed the gun at Emily’s head.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
JACE STARED DOWN AT THE blinking cursor on the laptop’s screen. Time ticked by, and Shanna still hadn’t shown. All their supplies were still here. Even her wallet was spread out on the kitchen table, along with the calendar pages from her office. She’d left in a hurry, but why? Where? The only place he could think that she might go was to Linda’s mother’s trailer to see Emily.
And he had no clue where that was.
Jace focused on the cursor. It blinked impatiently, waiting for him to type in Shanna’s password. He’d tried everything he could think of. None of it had worked. He finally had the laptop, right here in front of him, but he couldn’t open the damn files.
Without Shanna, he was worthless.
He shoved his chair back from the table and lurched to his feet. Setting out across the floor, he paced the same groove he’d walked for the past hour. He couldn’t stand being so out of control. Couldn’t stand being so helpless.
Couldn’t stand not knowing where Shanna was, if she was okay, if she was even alive.
Jace hadn’t known Shanna long. Only four days. Could it have been so little time? He felt like he’d known her much longer. Like he’d known her forever. Maybe he’d just been waiting for her all these years.
Shanna had changed his life, that was for sure. And not just because of the predicament they were in. She’d changed things in more important ways than that. She’d opened him up. She’d made him stretch. She’d given him reason to hope.
He paced to
the window and peered through spires of pine and fir. Since they’d found this place, it had felt like they were all alone here. A private sanctuary deep in the wilderness. But that wasn’t exactly the case. From the window he could see smoke rising from the cabin next door. A hunter wove through the trees of the forest below.
No.
Not a hunter.
Jace jolted back from the window. It was doubtful the man saw him. He was still too far away, and it was darker inside the cabin than outside in the bright sun. But Jace didn’t want to take a chance. He had a feeling he knew the man outside. Judging from the way he walked, the way he held his rifle, his silver belly hat. That was no hunter.
It was Sheriff Benson Gable.
Jace closed his eyes. He wasn’t one to believe in coincidences. And he was fairly certain no one had spotted them here. That left only one person who could have told him about the cabin.
Shanna.
Jace knew Shanna wouldn’t sell him out to save her own skin. But there was one person she wouldn’t risk. One person she’d do anything to protect. Including sacrificing herself. Including sacrificing him.
Oh, Shanna, what happened? Where are you?
Jace turned back to the window and watched the sheriff wander along the edge of the cabin next door.
He had to focus. He had to think.
The sheriff was approaching from the direction of the other cabin. Why? It would have been a lot easier for him to park directly in front of the cabin Jace was in. Not just easier, but quicker, stealthier. He could have stormed the door before Jace even knew he was outside.
Instead he must have parked at the cabin next door. Then made his way through the woods, poking around as though he was feeling his way in the dark. As if he was mistaken about exactly which cabin Jace was in.
Hot damn.
Shanna might have sold him out on the surface, but she’d left him some wiggle room. She must have sent Gable to the wrong cabin, the cabin next door. Jace could see it now. If things went badly and Gable caught him, she could just say she’d been confused. At the same time, by making Gable go out of his way, she increased the chance that Jace would notice the man. She’d given him a fighting chance.
And he was going to grab it with both hands.
Hurrying, Jace crossed the kitchen and went into the garage. He scanned the space, looking for something he could use. A hunting rifle would be nice, but apparently that was too much to ask. His gaze landed on a shovel.
He picked it up, tested its weight in his hands. It wasn’t fancy, but with the element of surprise, it just might work. He opened the side door and slipped outside.
Jace plunged into the young forest of lodgepole pine. He moved quickly through the sparse understory. With few bushes to hide behind, he had to take pains to keep Gable from spotting him. The man was a hunter, probably good at making his way over rocks and difficult terrain. But that didn’t mean Jace wasn’t better. Gable might think he was hunting Jace, but soon he would learn he was wrong.
Jace was hunting him.
The pine needles were soft under Jace’s boots. Each step silent. He circled the far side of his cabin, then ducked behind a ridge. If he judged the sheriff’s trajectory right, he should be approaching from this direction.
Jace made his way up the slope. There. There was his spot. A fallen tree. A tangle of fir struggling to gain ground against the tall, straight pine. Rock sloped sharply down on the side Gable was climbing. Unless he wanted to walk a wide circle, to reach the cabin Jace and Shanna had claimed, the sheriff would have to cross this spot.
Jace crouched behind the cover. Adrenaline coursed through his body, making him feel strong, making his senses sharp. He could hear Gable approach. The sheriff’s footfalls were quiet on the bed of needles as well, but definitely there.
A soft shuffle. Then another.
The shovel handle felt slick in Jace’s hands. He wiped his palms, one at a time, then gripped it harder.
Waiting. Waiting.
The huff of the sheriff’s breathing grew close. Closer.
Now.
Jace brought the shovel up hard and sharp. It caught the sheriff under the chin, the force shuddered through the tool and down Jace’s arms.
Gable sprawled backward, landing on his ass.
Jace sprang from his hiding spot, attacking barehanded. He jammed his forearm against Gable’s windpipe. He grabbed the man’s arm and flipped him onto his belly. He twisted the arm behind his back.
Gable grunted. Still stunned from the blow to his chin, he put up little resistance. Blood ran in a slash across his jaw.
Jace found the man’s handcuffs. He slapped them on the wrist he was holding. Stretching Gable’s other arm around the thin trunk of a pine, he clasped the cuff on the other wrist. Then he pulled the man’s keys from his pocket.
Gable shook his head and groaned. His eyes narrowed on Jace. His brows dipped in a deep frown. “You.”
“Where’s Shanna Clarke?”
“You should have stayed out of this, son.”
“You should have done the damn job.”
The man had the audacity to smile. “You want to know where to find her?”
“Where?”
“First, let me go.”
“Like hell. Where is she?”
“I don’t know where she is. I just know where she’s going.”
Jace placed his knee in the middle of Gable’s thigh. He leaned forward, his weight bearing down on the man’s leg. “Where?”
The sheriff’s face turned red. He grunted in pain.
“Where?”
A chuckle bubbled low in the sheriff’s throat. He grinned wide, showing red teeth. “Where’s she going? To hell, that’s where. When you get there, say hi for me.”
Jace gave him a shove, then pushed himself away. Red crowded the edges of his vision. His hands ached to wrap themselves around Gable’s neck and choke the laugh out of him.
Jace forced himself to turn away. He had to think.
Gable’s comment teased at the back of his mind. The sheriff had seemed so smug when he’d answered, so amused with himself, as if telling a joke that only he understood.
To hell?
Not a funny thing to say. And not original in the least. Still, the way he laughed…
Shanna was going to hell, huh?
Jace doubted it. But he had a feeling he knew were Barstow was taking her.
CHAPTER TWENTY
“SEE THOSE CLIFFS?” MR. BARSTOW lifted the barrel of his rifle, using it to point to a spot where the sharp edge of the canyon sliced into the sage-covered plain. “Native Americans used to herd bison off that drop. The animals would fall to their deaths on the rock below. A mass slaughter. You can still find bones at the bottom of the canyon.”
Shanna gripped Emily’s hand and stepped back, closer to the SUV. From this angle, she couldn’t see the sheer drop to the craggy red, yellow and gray rock formations below. Fine with her. She didn’t intend to get close enough to the edge to reenact Mr. Barstow’s morbid history lesson. She had to find a way out before things got that far.
At least Barstow had agreed to untie her. Of course, she knew he hadn’t done it so she could hold Em’s hand. He’d wanted her to be able to walk to the cliff, to carry her daughter along, if need be. He probably figured with both he and Linda armed, there wasn’t much Shanna could do.
She needed to find a way to prove him wrong.
“Let’s take a walk.” Barstow nodded to Linda.
The woman Shanna had thought was her friend stepped up beside her. She averted her eyes, waving her pistol to motion Shanna and Emily away from the SUV.
Shanna shivered despite the afternoon sun beating down on them. It seemed like ages ago that she and Jace had made love close to this very spot. Then the heat had felt delicious, the sweat covering her body incredibly sensuous, the wide-open sky freeing and empowering. Now even the sun seemed like her enemy, beating down, a glaring spotlight on the horrors to come.
She glanced at Linda. As betrayed as Shanna felt by her friend, she still couldn’t believe Linda had it in her to help Barstow commit murder. If Shanna could somehow reach Linda, cut through her rationalizations, make her recognize what was going on, what was about to happen…
“Lin?” Shanna whispered, praying Barstow wouldn’t hear. “Don’t do this. Not to Em.”
Linda kept her eyes focused on the canyon.
“She’s just a little girl. Please.” She squeezed her daughter’s hand.
Linda gave her head a little shake. “He’s not going to hurt her. He promised.”
“And you believe him?”
Linda raised her chin.
“Emily isn’t a baby, Lin. She’s not going to witness something and not remember.”
Linda looked straight ahead. “Be quiet.”
“I can’t be quiet. I can’t just go along. You can’t, either.”
“I said shut up.”
They kept walking, each step bringing them closer to the canyon.
“I know you didn’t mean for any of this to happen, Linda.”
Linda didn’t respond.
“How did it start? With him buying you things? Clothes? Jewelry?”
“He didn’t buy me.”
Shanna bit her lip. What was it then? She needed a way past Linda’s defenses. She had to think.
Linda had grown up in a trailer, with a hopelessly alcoholic mother. Crushing poverty. Always wanting something better. In that way, Linda wasn’t unlike Shanna. Shanna’s mother hadn’t been a drinker, but the three jobs she’d had to work to make ends meet after the divorce took their toll on any kind of home life.
She and Linda’s common dream of a better life was one of the reasons they were friends. That and the scars left by fathers who’d disappeared from their lives when they both were young. And Shanna knew the one thing she herself had always responded to in a man. The thing that had always made her want to look past a man’s faults. “He made you feel special.”
Linda’s stride faltered.
“Oh, Linda, you are special. You don’t need him for that.”
“I know what you’re doing,” Linda growled. “You’re trying to wreck this for me.”
Manhunt (A Rocky Mountain Thriller Book 1) Page 16
