Broken Trust

by Shannon Baker

  A low moan escaped from Nora’s throat. She held her breath to silence herself. Fighting every step, she advanced until she saw the whole scene.

  Nora fell back against the wall. Part of her fought to deny the image while the other part struggled to understand it. She gagged on the smell of death.

  Sylvia sat wedged in the far corner under the desk. Mascara smeared under her eyes and her black curls flopped in wild disarray. Her eyes stared sightlessly at Nora.

  A river of blood flowed from the mangled flesh that had been her chest.

  forty-six

  Nora staggered out of the office. The kitchen door still stood ajar and freezing night air blew in. She slid down from the sink and sat in front of the cold blast.

  Earthquakes of revulsion and fear cracked her surface. She couldn’t do this. She shivered and stared into the back yard.

  Get control. Think.

  Sylvia was dead. But Daniel, the man who stood to profit from the rainforest’s destruction, was on his way to the mountain to stop Petal from dismantling the tower.

  Cole.

  He was on the other end of Daniel’s deadly quest. Nora had sent him there with Petal. And Charlie had Cole’s phone so she couldn’t even warn him!

  She shot to her feet and clattered through the kitchen and foyer, out the front door, and across the porch. She lurched down the stairs two at a time, slipping on the last one and crashing a knee on the ground. The snow had tapered off and the temperatures weren’t at their winter worst. The now-wet snow stuck to the grass in clumps and would be gone before lunch. She bounded to her feet and sprinted toward the Jeep.

  The Town Car sat next to hers.

  She dove to the ground and rolled under a shrub. Not the smartest move she’d made. If the man in black had been in the car he’d have already killed her. Now she was wet and muddy.

  The Town Car guy had killed Sylvia and he wouldn’t think twice about doing the same to Nora. She pulled her feet under her and crouched next to the shrub. Obviously he’d used the kitchen door to the back yard. Where was he now? At the edge of the house waiting to gun her down?

  She had no choice.

  Nora dashed to the Jeep. The roar of a pistol did not shatter the silence. Bullets didn’t burn into her exposed body. In fact, she made it to the Jeep without incident even if she couldn’t breathe from terror. She jerked open the door, dove inside, and turned the ignition key, seemingly at the same time.

  Hunched over the wheel to present as small a target as possible, Nora punched the gas and sped away. She studied her rearview mirror. Nothing moved at the Trust farmhouse. The black rectangle where the front door stood open gaped back at her.

  Since it was a weeknight—technically a week morning by now—it was too late for people to be out and too early for them to be up. She raced through Boulder heedless of the stoplights now. The snow had melted on the pavement leaving the streets wet but not icy.

  Nora punched on the heat and let it blast from the vents. Her damp jeans and coat made a comforting, wet-Abbey smell in the Jeep.

  She climbed out of town south on Highway 93 toward Golden. As soon as she dipped over a hill the lights of town disappeared. Starless night closed around her. The Jeep’s heater tried, but in the drafty vehicle it couldn’t keep up with the winter chill. Shivers ran through Nora at irregular intervals, nerves and cold vying for credit.

  Two glowing pinpricks at the side of the road alerted her to a deer. She tapped her brakes in response. The steering wheel jerked from her hand and the back end of the Jeep swerved to the right. Black ice.

  Heart pumping, she counter-steered. The back end slid the other way, gaining momentum like a deadly pendulum. She yanked the wheel back. This time, the Jeep responded with a swoosh to the right that kept going. And going. The Jeep spun across the road like a drunk ice skater. It finally stopped with two wheels off the pavement, facing back toward Boulder.

  The engine idled. The headlights shone crazily across the center line. Nora wanted to break into tears and sit still to gather herself. She needed to take the time to stop her shaking. She felt like tearing the seat belt off and jumping out to walk off the adrenaline pumping through her.

  There was only one thing she could do. Nora locked her jaws tight, rammed the Jeep back into gear, and pulled back onto the highway. At least the wild ride warmed her but the sweat would chill her.

  She made it through Golden and onto I-70 heading into the mountains. It seemed to take ten years to find the exit from I-70. The whole time she expected death to arrive in any number of ways. She could slide across the median and into oncoming traffic; Town Car guy could catch up to her; she could keel over from fear alone. Or she might arrive too late to save Cole and Petal.

  Nora exited the interstate and began her long climb up Mount Evans.

  Another mountain. Another fight for life. Why does this always happen on mountains? Why does this have to happen at all?

  White, fluffy flakes started falling again. “Of course,” she said aloud.

  Shutters covered the windows of the Park Service toll house and a bar blocked access to the road. Nora eased the Jeep off the road and around the barrier. Shoulders hunched up high enough to be ear muffs, she gripped the wheel.

  In daylight, the harrowing road pushed Nora to the limit. At night, the switchbacks, narrow ledges, darkness, and ice became a nightmare.

  She inched her way along the cliff-side road. Snow accumulated over packed ruts. Cole’s pickup probably made those, followed by Daniel’s Prius. She shifted up and down around each precarious switchback. Her headlights revealed a frustratingly small section of the mountain. She knew the edge dropped forever down the mountain but she couldn’t see it. She stayed in the middle of the road, praying her tires would grip the snow.

  What was happening on the dark summit? Her progress seemed like swimming through quicksand. Every time she tried to gain speed she fishtailed. But every second she lost gave Daniel more time to kill.

  She pictured Cole smiling at her on the Pearl Street Mall. The fall leaves a swirl of golds and reds. He had been shy and uncertain about her but happy to see her.

  “You were happy to see him too.” She scowled at the shadowy road. “Quit talking to yourself.”

  Was she happy to see him? What about earlier tonight, in her apartment? Didn’t that feel right?

  She’d spent the last year wrapped in a cocoon, gluing herself back together.

  How long are you going to stay shrouded in self-pity? See, you don’t even need Abigail around to harass you with her sloppy poetry.

  She slipped the lever into first gear and pulled around a steep U-turn.

  What if she died tonight? Or worse, what if Cole died? What would all the protecting and taking time to repair her heart get her? She didn’t want to waste any more time shielding herself from life for fear that something might hurt again.

  She wanted Cole.

  Nora turned the last switchback into the parking lot. She ought to slap her headlights off for stealth but then she wouldn’t be able to see. Besides, anyone up here would have heard the Jeep’s engine.

  Four inches of snow sat atop Cole’s pickup. Daniel’s Prius still dripped melted snow from the warm engine.

  Nora pulled in next to Cole’s pickup, cut the motor, and climbed out. The dry, cold air caused her nostrils to stick. The air burned into her lungs and out again in puffs.

  The trailhead to the summit should be at the corner of the lot but in the darkness and covered with snow, Nora couldn’t make it out. In a matter of seconds her fingers grew numb and her ears ached. She ducked back into the Jeep. A knitted purple ski cap with bright braids peeked from under the backseat. She yanked it on her head and found a cheap pair of thin knit gloves she kept in the Jeep to protect her from a chilly steering wheel. They wouldn’t keep her hands warm, but they’d help a little. He
r headlamp rested in the glove box and she pulled it over the ski cap and snapped it on.

  The weak beam from the headlamp held the darkness at bay a few feet in front of her. She shuffled toward the trailhead, swinging her neck back and forth to sweep the area for footprints. The fluffy flakes had erased even Daniel’s recent tracks.

  Though not easy to make out, she found the start of the trail by locating a flat area about three feet wide between two boulders covered with snow. Feeling for each foot step along the bumpy, rock strewn path, Nora started toward the summit.

  The headlamp provided a faded glow and snow plunked in her eyes. Her feet slid along under several inches of fluff, stubbing into rocks. She leaned as close to the cliff face as possible, using it to catch her when she slipped.

  After two switchbacks she found the terrain becoming increasingly rugged as she headed around the side of the mountain. She must have missed the spot where the trail turned back up; the somewhat level path she’d been following became a jumble of snow-

  covered rocks edging away from the cliff face. She soaked her gloves scrambling over a mound of stones. Her jeans wicked melted snow from the hem and her knees where she’d had to climb on all fours.

  Shivering and panting in the thin air, she swung her head to the side. Her headlamp disappeared into nothing. She hung on the very edge of the mountain. Nora swung the beam back to where she suspected she lost the trail. She tilted her neck up, gauging whether it would be better to bushwhack up the side or try to find the trail.

  Uneven and full of rocks, the trail wasn’t an easy way to go. Backtracking to find it would eat up valuable time. She held her breathe, listening for voices or sounds of a struggle.

  Nothing.

  She reached her hand upward to feel under the snow for a solid hold. Her frozen fingers felt like clubs. She searched for a platform for her numb feet and pushed upward.

  One movement and pause for a breath. Still, she panted. Despite frozen fingers and toes, sweat slicked her body, creating an even deeper chill. She could only see as far as her next handhold.

  She pushed off again. Her sole slid off the rock and she careened to the side.

  No!

  She flailed at the snow-covered rocks trying to find something to grab. Her fingers wouldn’t grip. Her arms splayed out and her chin whacked a boulder under a pile of cold snow, sending a shower of lights behind her eyes. She cried out.

  Desperate to keep upright, she scrabbled, but her fingers only raked the icy surface of the rock.

  Nora couldn’t get her balance. Her other foot twisted and she toppled to her right. She crashed to her knee and momentarily paralyzed her leg.

  Her body sailed onto her side, kicking and fighting, she managed only to skid around so her head pointed downhill.

  Nora started to slide.

  She threw her arms out, trying to wedge them against any rocks. Still, she gathered speed like a luge. If she didn’t arrest herself she’d go over the side. She’d land in a pile of broken bones. Dead. Like Scott. Like Heather.

  Like Cole.

  Her forehead crashed into a boulder. Her body accordioned into her neck like a train hitting a brick wall. She stopped in a burst of white hot pain.

  She lay with her head slammed against the boulder, her body in a heap uphill. Snow accumulated all around her, freezing her neck and cheek. At least she wouldn’t fall all the way to her death at the bottom of a fourteener.

  But she might never walk again.

  Nora couldn’t feel anything below her neck.

  They’d pull her out of here, prop her in a wheelchair in front of a TV for the rest of her life. Over and over again she’d have to relive her failures and mourn the loss of Heather. Of Petal. Of Cole.

  No more negative talk. She couldn’t just quit. Nora rolled onto her stomach and pushed herself up. Her hands ached with the cold and wet. “Ow!”

  Her neck was nothing but frozen pain, but her arm—that gave new meaning to agony. Excruciating molten bone somewhere just below her elbow. She wanted to scream. Or curl into the snow and wait for help.

  She had to keep going. What choice did she have?

  Slowly she maneuvered her legs and feet to push herself to stand. Okay, she wasn’t a quadriplegic … yet.

  She surveyed the side of the mountain where she’d slid. The rock strewn slope would be a challenge to scale in the best of circumstances. With a suspected broken arm, it might be impossible.

  She tucked her damaged arm close. With shaking legs, shivering and gasping for air, she climbed.

  Find solid footing, brace your numb hand against a rock, push off. Repeat.

  She gritted her teeth against shrieks of pain but nothing could stop her grunting and yes, even a moan or two.

  She searched for handholds with her good hand and fell to her knees, pushing off with her feet. She slid, banging her chin again and sort of hopped by shoving with her feet. She gained a few inches.

  Her foot slipped and she landed on her arm. “Ah!” She humped herself another few inches.

  Cole. Petal. Rainforest.

  Slipping and sliding and earning a foot to losing six inches, she finally made it to a spot where the trail reversed direction for the last climb to the summit.

  She pulled herself over the side and lay on her back, resting for just a moment to ease her broken arm. At least the climb would be easier now. She dug in her feet and pushed to roll over.

  A brilliant beam of light lit up the snow two feet to her right. It swerved to illuminate her. Snow puffed and metal skidded on rock.

  The sound of the gunshot ricocheted in the darkness.

  forty-seven

  Nora rolled to the side of the trail and tucked into the cliff face. She turned off her headlamp. Daniel wouldn’t be able to hit her now without climbing down the trail. The cliff provided shelter for the time being.

  But she couldn’t stay there.

  A slight gray appeared on the eastern horizon. While it afforded Nora enough light to make out large objects, it reminded her that time was running out: dawn was near and the beam would go off soon.

  A boulder sat ten feet up the trail. She lurched for it and slid behind it, out of the line of fire from the summit. Snow blew into her eyes. No gunshots.

  She made another dash up the trail to the cliff face. She gulped in air. Again, no shots.

  He must be busy with Cole and Petal.

  Nora cantered up the trail watching her feet carefully. Each step jogged her bad arm, firing pain through her, but the thought of Cole in danger kept her moving forward. She pushed herself until black dots formed around the edges of her vision and she had to stop to fill herself with oxygen and windmill her good arm to force blood into her fingers.

  She hadn’t gone too much farther before tracks appeared in the snow to guide her. They led up a rocky side and disappeared around an outcropping of stone. The summit lay ten feet straight up or another hundred feet if she stayed on the safer and more level trail. Even knowing the last time she’d bushwhacked she’d ended up with a broken arm, Nora couldn’t opt for slow and easy. She leaned into the cliff and planted her frozen hand in the snow, searching for leverage. She lurched up.

  A noise made her freeze and she fought against her loud panting, trying to hear around the pounding of blood in her temples. The voices came as a relief. At least Petal was still alive.

  On her hand and knees, she crawled the last few feet to peer over a rock to the summit.

  Petal held a flashlight toward the ground and the light cast large shadows.

  Daniel stood with his back to Nora, facing Petal. He wore a black down jacket with a cap pulled over his head. Somewhere he’d acquired a much larger gun. A real one. He held it in his hand, ready to pull it up and shoot Petal.

  Petal stood swallowed in a barn coat, obviously one of Cole’s. Her vario
us skirts flowed in the gusts. She wore cowboy boots too large for her and they made her appear even more loopy than usual. They must also have been borrowed from Cole.

  Nora pushed with her feet and pulled with her hand to slide over the top of the cliff. She lay on her belly, the snow soaking through her jeans, seeping under her coat to her stomach. She shivered uncontrollably.

  “Why are you doing this?” Daniel asked. His voice didn’t sound nearly as sexy to Nora as it used to. It carried the sour note of threat.

  Petal wasn’t crying. Her mouth turned down in a fierce scowl. “You know why. Sylvia cheated me out of what was mine and I want what I deserve.”

  Where was Cole? Was he okay? He must be injured. If not, he’d be standing in front of Petal, protecting her. But he could be out at the tower now. He’d climb the fence and somehow destroy the tower.

  Despite dawn threatening, darkness made it difficult to see much outside the circle of Petal’s flashlight.

  Even though he didn’t have his normal bedroom voice, Daniel seemed to gentle his tone. “You know you needed her.”

  Petal shrieked, frightening in its sudden intensity. “That’s not true! It was Sylvia who needed me!”

  “Now she’s gone and she won’t hurt you anymore.”

  Petal started to cry. “I’m glad she’s dead. She deserved to die. She stole my science like she stole my mother’s life.”

  Daniel didn’t argue. He slid another step closer.

  He was getting ready to attack and all Petal did was rattle on in her disjointed sobs.

  Daniel sounded soothing. “I know you were instrumental in her research. You should be rewarded. We could get you a position back with HAARP if you want.”

  Petal backed up and when she shifted her weight a pile of gear appeared behind her in the gloom.

  Another step and Daniel would be within striking distance of Petal. “This is not the way.”

  Petal pleaded with him. “It’s the only way.”

  Nora squinted in the ashy light. The lump of gear moved.

  No. Oh no.