But that was over.
Nick and Carina came up to them shortly after the newly married couple arrived in the backyard. “I’m so glad you came,” Carina beamed at Robin. “You haven’t met my husband, Nick Thomas.”
Robin smiled. “The wedding was beautiful.”
“Thank you,” Carina said.
Will hugged his partner. “You’ve never looked more gorgeous, Cara,” he said affectionately. He shook hands with Nick. “Congratulations.”
“It was perfect,” Carina said.
“Almost,” Nick said, his face clouding a bit. “If only Patrick could have been here.”
Carina nodded. “I prayed every day that he’d be back up and around in time for my wedding. We even considered postponing it, but what would that do? Put Nick and me on hold on the slim chance that Patrick recovers? When? This month? This year? Five years from now?” She glanced at Will, her dark eyes glistening. “Don’t wait, Will. Love, and life, needs to be your priority.”
She took both Will and Robin’s hands into hers and squeezed, then walked off with Nick to talk to the rest of the guests.
“Robin—”
“You don’t have to—”
“Shh.” He looked around the crowded backyard. All the Kincaids were here. Even Dillon Kincaid’s elusive twin brother hovered around the periphery. All Will wanted was a quiet place to talk to Robin.
“Come with me,” he said, finally spotting a place to escape.
In the side yard, wisteria climbed a trellis, giving privacy to a bench. Will sat Robin down, then knelt in front of her.
She grinned. “Don’t do that, Will.”
“What?”
“You’ll get your pants all dirty.”
He shook his head. “I love you, Robin.”
“I know. I love you, too. We’re missing the—”
“Shh.” He cleared his throat, glanced up, saw the scar on her throat.
Theodore Glenn almost killed her. You almost lost her, Will. Why are you wasting time now?
“Marry me.”
Damn, that came out pathetic.
“Is that a proposal?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Yes.”
When she didn’t say anything right away, his heart skipped a beat. “We can wait—” he began.
“I don’t want to wait. Of course I’ll marry you, Will.”
He sighed in relief, pulled a small box from his pocket. “I’ve been carrying this around with me for the last two weeks. I was going to ask you to marry me when you were in the hospital, but that wasn’t really romantic. This isn’t all that romantic, either, but—”
“It’s the perfect time,” she said, grinning like a kid, as she took the box from his hand.
Her face lit up when she opened it. The solitary deep blue sapphire sparkled in the sunlight. “Oh, Will.”
“I remember once you told me you thought sapphires were prettier than diamonds. But if you want a diamond, I can trade—”
“Stop right there. I love sapphires. And I love that you remembered.”
Tears coated her eyes.
“Don’t cry. I can’t stand to see you cry.”
“They’re good tears.”
“I didn’t know there was such a thing.”
She nodded, leaned forward, and kissed him. She tasted like heaven. And she was going to be his wife, his friend, his lover. Forever.
ALSO BY ALLISON BRENNAN
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On days like this Sheriff Tyler McBryde wished he were back home in Texas.
Tyler got off the phone with the Bureau of Land Management and said, “No surprise, but the Centennial Valley is cut off. Only snowmobile access, and not until the storm passes.” Virtually every winter much of the Centennial Valley near Dillon, Montana was cut off from vehicular traffic, but the ranchers and people who lived there were more than capable of taking care of themselves.
Tyler was more concerned about his brother’s Boy Scout troop. The storm had come in faster than they’d anticipated, and there was no way they could get out until it passed.
“Those folks are prepared,” Deputy Billy Grossman said.
“Wyatt’s troop is up there,” dispatcher Bonnie Warren said quietly.
Billy opened, then closed his mouth. “Shit, Tyler, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking of Wyatt and Jason.”
Tyler dipped his head in acknowledgment. “I spoke to Wyatt this morning. He and the boys are safe, but no way they can get back via Southside Centennial Road, and they’re too far from Lakeview. They’re trapped on the northeast side of Lower Red Rock Lake, and they only have three days’ provisions.”
“When did Sam say he could get the road clear?”
“Spring at the latest, next week at the soonest.” Tyler ran a hand through his close-cropped dark hair, his face showing frustration for the first time since the storm slammed them early that morning. “I’m still getting used to the weather up here.” It could snow for days in a row, then the sky could turn blue and a hot sun would burn the snow to slush. “The troop met in Lakeview, then hiked up to Red Rock.” It was supposed to be a three-day winter survival badge test. But the storm wasn’t supposed to hit until next week. “With this weather they’re stuck for the time being.”
“What if we came down from the Northside Road?” Billy asked.
“Already closed,” Bonnie said. “And no way can we use the snowmobiles over the protected wetlands. But when the storm passes, we can snowmobile around the avalanche, bring provisions and a paramedic, make sure everyone in Lakeview and the surrounding areas are okay, and head out to Red Rock.”
“The storm’s hanging,” Tyler said, feeling every one of his forty years. “NWS is saying two more days.”
It had started before dawn, and was originally supposed to dump just a foot of snow and be on its way. Instead the storm had lingered, getting stronger and more violent as the day went on, dumping four feet of snow in less than twelve hours. And it was still coming down.
This was mountain country, ski country, fishing and hunting country. Roads and trails wove throughout the most beautiful land in America. The people on the other side of that road wouldn’t be out of touch for long, and they were plenty used to temperamental winters. But inevitably, someone found themselves in trouble. Last year—Tyler’s first winter in Big Sky Country—a snow-mobiler had been hotdogging it in the valley and plowed into a fence buried in snow. Got himself cut up pretty bad and with a broken leg he couldn’t move. It took two days to find him. And then, the only way they could get him out was on a sleigh hitched to a snowmobile.
Wyatt’s troop could head east, toward Upper Red Rock Lake, or north across the wetlands. Either would be a difficult trip, and they couldn’t start until morning. Wyatt was skilled in wilderness survival training. If anyone—other than himself—was responsible for saving his son and the other boys, it was his half brother Wyatt McBryde. But Tyler still had a hard time relinquishing the safety of his son to anyone, especially a brother he barely knew.
Temperatures were expected to hit below zero overnight. While the troop was prepared, there were still six twelve-year-old boys and one scoutmaster in disastrous conditions, miles away from the nearest town.
Billy walked over to the map. “What about here?” He pointed. “Jim Kimball has a hunting cabin there. That might provide enough shelter until the storm passes.”
“Isn’t this a vacation lodge?” Tyler pointed to an area southwest of Upper Red Rock Lake. “Aren’t there a couple vacation homes and a lodge?”
“Karl Hauf owns the Moosehead Lodge,” Bonnie said. “There’s plenty of room, a
nd they can take care of the boys until we can get through.”
“How long do you think it would take?”
“They couldn’t do it tonight—they’ll need at least four hours, and that’s pushing it.”
“Let me talk to Wyatt, see what he wants to do.”
Tyler crossed over to the radio and called up his half-brother. “Wyatt, it’s Tyler.”
“Checking up on me again?”
Tyler let that slide. Butting heads with Wyatt was like butting heads with their father, something Tyler avoided whenever he could. He filled Wyatt in with road and trail blockages that they knew about. “I’ve been looking at the map and have a destination for you tomorrow.”
“So have I,” Wyatt said, his voice sounding far away. “I’m going to the Moosehead.”
Tyler bristled slightly. “That was my suggestion.”
“Good, I won’t have to defy an order.”
In the twenty months they’d lived in the same town and tried to jump-start their relationship, it had been like two bull moose butting heads. Tyler didn’t quite know how it had come to this—when they were kids, they’d been best friends even though they saw each other only a few weeks out of the year.
“How are the boys?”
“Good spirits. I have them working. I’m going to power down the radio to save on the batteries, but I’ll contact you at dawn before I head out. It’ll take at least six to seven hours from our position unless—”
“Why that long? It shouldn’t take more than four.”
Bonnie picked up the phone on its first ring and motioned for Tyler. “Sheriff,” she whispered. “I have a male caller who won’t give his name and insists on talking to the sheriff.”
Tyler frowned. Probably a nutcase, and right now he didn’t need anything to distract him. He held up a finger.
“Wyatt, what’s wrong?”
“Ben Ward broke his leg. I’ve secured it and we’ve made a sled to pull him on, but it’s going to take us time to transport him. I’m going to contact the search-and-rescue team and have someone meet us halfway to bring Ben back on a snowmobile.”
“What about the Worthington Ranch?” Tyler said.
“Closer as the crow flies, but no way I can get Ben up there. Too steep and rocky.” Wyatt cleared his throat. “You have to trust me, Tyler.”
“I trust you, Wyatt. I let you take my son.” But Jason was more comfortable playing video games than roughing it in the wilderness. It was partly Jason’s increasingly solitary lifestyle after his mom died that prompted the move cross-country, and Tyler’s desire to immerse him in the rugged outdoor life that both he and his half brother Wyatt thrived in.
“I’ll call in at oh-seven-hundred hours.”
“I’ll be here.”
He slammed down the mic. After all these years, why’d he think he could come up here and create a family? Not only was he an outsider to Montana, but he felt like an outsider with his own brother. Why was he surprised? The last time they’d seen each other was their father’s funeral eight years ago. At the time, Tyler was married with a toddler and Wyatt was doing God knew what. But it was clear that they no longer had the same relationship that they had as kids.
“Sheriff? The caller?”
Tyler took the call, more to get his mind off Wyatt and Jason. As soon as the snow let up, he’d be on his way to the Moosehead Lodge to find his son.
“Sheriff McBryde.”
A long pause. For a moment, Tyler thought the call had been lost. Then, “Sheriff, there are two killers on their way through your town.”
“Killers?”
“Escapees from San Quentin.”
“Who is this?”
“That doesn’t matter.” The man coughed deeply. When he spoke, he was out of breath. “Look, I don’t know where they are going, but I know it’s someplace around Dillon and they are looking for a woman.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know! He never said her name. But she lives someplace near Dillon.”
“That doesn’t help me much, sir. We’re a small town, but not that small.”
“Dammit, this is important!” He coughed again.
“Where are you right now?”
A long pause. “Outside Pocatello. I—” another long pause. The man sounded distracted. “There was an accident.”
“You were in an accident in Idaho? That’s outside my jurisdiction. I can get you in touch with—”
“Dammit, Sheriff, would you listen!” The man was breathing heavily. “I’m sorry. Two men, escaped convicts from San Quentin named Aaron Doherty and Doug Chapman, are on their way to find this woman. He said she was waiting for him, but he’s never met her in person. She’s young and beautiful, he had her picture. It was cut out of a magazine.”
“Can you describe her?”
“Caucasian. Light brown hair, blue eyes. The photo was taken outdoors on a deck of possibly a house. There was a vast mountain range behind her. She wore a long-sleeved light-colored blouse and jeans. Sheriff, she’s in grave danger. You have to stop them. Aaron Doherty’s twisted. He’ll kill her, I know it. And Chapman is a loose cannon.”
“Sir, most of the roads are closed except for the Interstate. Even if they are here, they can’t get through to anywhere that isn’t immediately off the Interstate. And without an ID on this woman, I can’t warn her. I’ll alert—”
“They dumped me here at three. What time is it now?”
Tyler glanced at the clock and frowned. “Two-thirty.”
“What? Sunday?”
“Monday. Sir, do you need medical attention?”
“Fuck! They had a full day!”
“Sir, have you been unconscious since yesterday? I’ll get a medical team to your location right away. Please give me you exact location.” He didn’t need it, he could trace the call, but he wanted to keep the man on the line as long as possible. He slid another note to Bonnie. Locate the call.
“McBryde, you have to believe me. This woman is in danger. I was out longer than I thought.” A long pause. “Just find her. Protect her. Doherty and Chapman are armed and dangerous. They have at least two guns and a knife. Call the California Highway Patrol. Call the Feds. I’m telling you the truth! Please. Please. I—” The man started coughing again.
Click.
Tyler looked at the phone and frowned. He described the woman to Bonnie. “Do you recognize her?”
She shook her head. “Can’t say. I mean, I can probably list a dozen pretty women under forty who have light brown hair and blue eyes.”
“What about one who would have been in a magazine?”
“I don’t know. What kind of magazine? A ranch magazine? A vacation brochure?”
“Do you think you can go by the library and see what you can find?”
“Sure. They’re closed because of the storm, but I’m sure Sally will open it up for me. I might not get in until tomorrow.”
“Just as soon as you can, thanks. I can’t do anything if I don’t know who these killers are after. If they are here. If they made it before the storm.” A lot of “ifs” and Tyler had far more important things to handle right now. Still…
“Find out where that call came from.”
He left the command center and went to his office. Of course he’d heard about the San Quentin earthquake—who hadn’t?—but he was a thousand miles away and didn’t figure any of those prison escapees would have made it up here.
But the names sounded familiar.
He sorted through his memos and pulled one from the Federal Bureau of Investigation. There had been twelve escaped prisoners all told. All but three had been killed or apprehended….
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Sherry grabbed her purse and went out to the garage. Her hand automatically went to the garage door opener and pressed it.
“Hello, Sherry.” In the dim light, Theodore smiled.
Her face froze, then her bottom lip trembled. Eyes wide, terrified, Sherry’s scream came out too high-pitched to be heard by anyone outside the garage. She stepped toward the kitchen door. Before she could even reach the doorknob, he grabbed her from behind. She kicked and bit at his hand. Feisty bitch. Too little, too late. He’d always been stronger, and prison made him more so.
Sherry had betrayed him in the worst way. Shared their private games with the world. Told everyone he was sick. He’d pay her back for turning against him.
He whispered in her ear, “You thought you were going to get away with talking? Sis, I told you I’d kill you. Now you’re dead.”
Killing Fear Page 36
