The Target

by Gerri Hill

  “And I’ll walk up. There might be some kind of trail.”

  Jaime hesitated. She didn’t want Sara alone but—“Okay. But don’t go far.” She watched Sara walk off, heading in the opposite direction, then turned and walked downhill, going around the pile of boulders, looking for something, an old landslide with footholds, an animal trail, something to get them over the ridge. But she found nothing. Twenty or thirty yards past the boulder field, the mountain sloped downward. She turned around and retraced her steps.

  “Anything?” Abby asked.

  “No.” Jaime looked past them. “Where’s Sara?” In the shadows, she saw her, waving to them.

  “This way,” she called. “I’ve found a trail.”

  “Good. Looks like the Sarge found something,” Jaime said. “Come on, ladies.”

  Sara met them halfway, her breathing labored from the hike. “It’s a deer trail, nothing more. But I think we can make it.”

  “Hell, if a little deer can make it, surely we can,” Abby said.

  Sara and Jaime exchanged glances . . . and smiles. “Okay, Abby. Then you lead,” Jaime said. “Celia? You’re second.”

  “But—”

  “No buts, no nothing. You’re second.” Jaime pointed at Sara. “Sarge?”

  Sara nodded. “I’m third.”

  Jaime clapped her hands. “Let’s go! Let’s go! Lou Ann, move it. Ashley, Beth . . . come on, you’re next. Everybody, let’s go.” Jaime watched as they all followed each other up the pass. It would get steep at the top . . . but they could make it. She glanced around then decided to check their back one more time. She pulled out her binoculars then looked up the trail where the women were heading. “Sara,” she yelled.

  Sara stopped, one hand gripping a tree branch, and turned around. She raised her eyebrows. Jaime held up her binoculars. Sara nodded. Jaime hurried off down toward the ravine and Sara watched her go with just a bit of apprehension. She looked down the deer trail that they were following, her eyes glancing off each of the women, some meeting her eyes, others not. Her professional side knew that they needed to talk about what had happened and what was still happening. Sandra was a part of them. And they needed to talk about it. But damn, there hadn’t been a moment that was appropriate. Maybe tonight, once they were settled, they could talk. Perhaps revert back to the group sessions even though she’d vowed they were done with them. Regardless, they had to talk it out. It wasn’t something that could be shelved until later. Sandra . . . God, Sandra was laying somewhere up on a trail they had abandoned long ago. Yes, they needed to talk about it. She turned her gaze upward, watching as Celia slowly made her way up the trail in the waning daylight.

  Jaime followed the shadows, moving slowly from tree to tree, studying the riverbank, looking for signs of movement. There was none. Satisfied he had indeed stopped for the night, she retraced her steps, finding the old deer trail the others had used. She shook her head. Even in the shadows, she could follow their tracks. No doubt he’d find it easily tomorrow. But she couldn’t worry about that now.

  She moved quietly through the trees. When she reached the top of the trail, the others were already up on the ridge. She saw them moving among the trees and she hurried to reach them. Dusk was upon them. There was probably only another hour, if that, before full dark. And they needed to put some distance between them and the river. She pulled herself up the trail, using tree branches to steady herself where the trail was steep. She saw overturned rocks where someone had slipped and she stopped to right them.

  “Jaime?”

  She looked up, seeing Sara’s silhouette as she leaned against a tree. “Yeah. I’m coming.”

  Sara moved down the trail a little ways, waiting. She wanted, needed some time alone with her. They were all running on adrenaline but eventually that would run out. They needed some reassurance and they needed it to come from Jaime.

  “You okay?”

  Jaime grasped the trunk of a small tree, pulling herself up. “Yeah, I’m okay. How about everyone else?”

  “We need to tell them something, Jaime.”

  “I know.” Jaime pulled herself up the last few feet, standing on a rock facing Sara. They were in the shadows but their eyes met and held. Jaime reached out, gently touching Sara’s face. “How are you holding up?”

  “I’m trying not to think about it.”

  “Yeah. Me too.”

  Sara saw the hint of tears in Jaime’s eyes. Sandra was a client. Not a friend. But to Jaime, Sandra was a friend. Albeit, a brief friendship, but she knew that Jaime had taken Sandra under her wing. Even at the end, they had been together, talking and laughing. And that’s why Sara knew Jaime was taking this harder than anyone, except maybe Celia. But Jaime was very good at hiding her feelings. She had simply taken charge and gotten them out of there. Ten nearly hysterical women and Jaime had managed to get them down the mountain and up the river without mishap. Yes, they were soaking wet and cold—but they were alive.

  Sara finally held out her hand, offering it to Jaime. The fingers that closed around it were cold but Sara pulled Jaime across the rocks, never releasing her hand.

  “Thanks.”

  Sara smiled, squeezing Jaime’s hand as she walked past. “What’s the plan?”

  Jaime turned and shrugged her shoulders. “Are you as tired as I am?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then that means they’re damn near exhausted.”

  “Most likely.”

  Jaime adjusted the straps on her pack. “Not even an hour before full dark. If we can get down the mountain a little ways and maybe find a sheltered ledge, we should be fine. We can get a campfire going without worrying about being seen if we can get up against the mountain.”

  “I think if we promise a campfire, we can get an hour’s hike out of them.”

  Jaime nodded. “Well, let’s go.” She took the last few steps that brought her out on the ridge, finding everyone else sitting on rocks, resting.

  “Ladies? One more hour then a campfire. Are we up to it?”

  Abby stood up. “Come on, Jaime. What the hell’s going on?”

  “Well, we’ve been shot at and apparently we’re being followed. I have a theory as to why, if that’s what you mean.”

  “Sandra was shot,” Abby stated quietly. “Shot and killed.”

  “Yes. I’m aware of that,” Jaime said. “I was next to her when it happened.” Jaime turned around, facing them all. “But now is not the time to discuss this. We’ve got to put some distance between us and him. Tonight, once we get a fire going and everyone has changed into dry clothes, we’ll talk about this. Okay?”

  Celia stood up and brushed at her once-styled hair, tucking it behind her ears. “Let’s go. Dry clothes and a campfire sound like heaven right about now.” The others followed, all standing and waiting expectantly, looking at first Sara, then Jaime.

  “We go down the mountain, moving to the west. That way, we’ll catch as much of the daylight that’s left as we can. Hopefully, we can find a sheltered ledge or slope, something up against the mountain where we’ll be shielded.”

  “Well, then lead the way, Chief,” Celia said, pointing. “I don’t want the night to catch us here.”

  Jaime looked briefly at Sara then started out, moving through the trees, trying to find an easy route over the ridge and down the other side. It was extremely rocky and huge boulders blocked their way. She went around and over them, sitting on her butt as she slid down the hill. The others followed suit.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Captain Morris?”

  Morris rubbed his eyes. “Yeah? What is it?”

  “FBI. They want a word.”

  “At this hour?” He glanced at his watch. “What are you still doing here, anyway?”

  Simon shrugged. “There’s two of them.”

  Morris nodded. “Okay. Send them back.”

  Simon stepped aside and two suits walked in. Captain Morris stood then motioned to the visitor’s chairs.
<
br />   “I’m Special Agent Erickson, this is Agent Fielding.”

  Morris nodded, barely glancing at the badges they flashed him. “It’s damn near seven o’clock. My wife’s probably trying to keep dinner warm. What do you guys want now? Need to borrow another detective?”

  The two agents exchanged glances.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Captain Morris.” Erickson sat down and waited until Morris did the same. “We’re following a lead in an investigation. A lead that points to one of your detectives.” He looked at his notes. “Jaime Hutchinson. I don’t suppose she’s still around?”

  “You guys amaze me. Do you not communicate?”

  Erickson leaned forward. “Captain Morris, what are you talking about?”

  Morris leaned back, scratching his head as he stared at the two agents. “Your man Ramsey came in here the other week. Tabbed Hutchinson to help you guys watch some woman. That senator’s daughter. Sara Michaels.”

  Erickson stood up, pacing. “Ramsey? I know of no agent named Ramsey.”

  “Special Agent Ramsey.”

  “You’re saying some guy came in, claiming to be FBI and he knew about Michaels?”

  “They’ve had death threats. And what do you mean, claiming to be FBI?”

  “So some guy comes in here and says he’s FBI and you just believe him?” Erickson asked, his voice rising.

  “He flashed a badge, just like you guys did.”

  “And you just assumed it was legit?”

  Morris smiled. “Well, I’m assuming you’re legit. Your badge looked just like his.” Morris’s smile faded. “You want to tell me what the hell is going on?”

  Erickson tilted his head. “How about you first, Captain. Your detective was identified by the owner of a sporting goods store. He said she was asking questions about Sara Michaels. We’re very interested in that.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Jaime added more wood to the fire, then stepped away, giving the others access to the warmth. They hadn’t set up tents yet, they hadn’t eaten. They just wanted to get warm.

  “Change into dry clothes,” she said. “We can lay these by the fire. Hopefully, they’ll be dry enough by morning.”

  “What’s going on? I mean, what the hell just happened to us?” Abby asked. She waved at the others. “What are we doing here?”

  “After we eat, we’ll talk,” Jaime said. “Then we’ve got to discuss our plan for tomorrow. It’ll be another long day.”

  “What about Sandra?” Celia asked quietly.

  “There’s a sniper,” Jaime said, equally as quiet. “Now put up your tents. Change into dry clothes. After we eat, we’ll talk,” she said again.

  “Who is he after?”

  Jaime and Sara exchanged glances across the fire.

  “He’s . . . he’s after me,” Sara said quietly.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “Simon, get in here.”

  “I was just heading out, Captain.”

  Morris motioned him in. “Just take a second.” He walked back around to his desk. “This is Hutchinson’s partner,” he said to Erickson. “Detective Simon.”

  The two men shook hands, then Russ glanced nervously at Morris. “What’s going on, Captain?”

  “You heard from Hutchinson?”

  He shook his head. “She’s . . . she’s on vacation. She doesn’t normally call.”

  Morris flashed a humorless smile. “We both know she told you about this case, Simon. Cut the crap.”

  “Is she . . . is she in trouble?”

  “We’re more concerned with where she is, Detective.” Erickson stood, pacing slowly across the room. “Tell us what you know.”

  “I don’t know anything. She said the FBI pegged her to follow some senator’s daughter into the mountains.”

  “And you’ve not spoken with her?”

  “No. But I mean service up there is iffy at best.”

  “Why don’t you try calling her, Russ. Make sure everything’s okay,” Captain Morris suggested.

  “Sara Michaels’s clinic wouldn’t give us any information but we got a warrant. We’ll head over there in the morning. We should be able to get her location.”

  “But you said earlier that the death threats were vague. That’s what this man Ramsey said too.”

  “Captain, just the fact that there was an imposter in here tells us these threats are no longer vague. They also tell us that Sara Michaels is the most likely target, not the senator.”

  “But what purpose could he have for wanting Hutchinson out there? If they’re trying to kill somebody, why put a cop on the scene?”

  “Because they didn’t know where Sara Michaels was going.”

  Morris frowned. “You’re saying, they used Jaime to lead them in there?”

  “It’s my guess, yes.” Erickson sighed. “Is she any good?”

  Morris nodded. “They’re in for a surprise.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “I just never made the connection. Your father is running for president?” Abby asked Sara.

  “Afraid so.”

  “But I don’t understand.”

  “Look, I’ll tell you everything we know, which isn’t much,” Jaime said. “I’m a homicide detective in Denver. One day this FBI guy comes in and says he needs me to watch Sara here. He said there had been death threats.” Jaime fixed her gaze on Sara. “So here I am, tagging along with you guys. For the last couple of days, I suspected we were being followed.”

  “That’s why you kept sneaking off,” Celia said.

  “Yes. It could have just been hikers on the same trail for all I knew.”

  “But if he’s after Sara, why would he shoot Sandra?”

  Jaime shook her head. “I don’t know. Sandra and I were standing next to each other. Maybe he intended the shot for me. Maybe he saw me doubling back.” She shrugged. “And maybe he did it for fun,” she said quietly.

  “This is like a bad dream,” Megan said. “I just can’t believe it.”

  “Yes, it’s a very bad dream,” Sara said. “And I can’t help but think that if Jaime wasn’t here with us, how many more of us would he have gotten?”

  “I guess it’s too much to hope that somebody ignored orders and brought a cell phone with them,” Abby said, looking at their group.

  “I have a cell,” Jaime said. “No service. And a low battery.”

  “Is he . . . is he like a hit man?” Megan asked. “Like in the movies?”

  Jaime nodded. “Yes. He’s got a high-powered rifle with a scope. I’m guessing he shot from over two hundred yards, if not more. Which gives him a big advantage. That’s why we had to keep moving. And we’ll have to start out in the morning as soon as there’s enough light.”

  “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep,” Celia said.

  “You can squeeze in with us,” Abby offered.

  “You’ll all sleep out of sheer exhaustion. We’ll be safe here tonight. There’s no moon. He won’t be able to travel at night. And he won’t have a signal to follow this time.”

  “You have a plan?”

  “We’re off trail, so that’ll slow us down, but if we can make it to St. Elmo, we might be able to find help. There are weekend homes up there, summer homes. Someone might still be there. If not, maybe we can at least find a phone.” Jaime looked at Sara. “What the hell day is this, anyway?”

  Sara looked at her watch. “Monday.”

  “Not good. It’ll take us at least two days. Wednesday. Any weekenders will be gone.”

  “Can we even make it in two days? I mean, without being on a trail?”

  “With luck. And who knows, without a signal to follow he might not even be able to track us as closely.”

  Sara knew Jaime was just trying to make them feel better, but the others seemed to be pacified somewhat. He was a hit man, hired to take her out. The chances that he wouldn’t be able to track them were slim.

  “Wash out your pots as good as you can, but co
nserve your water,” Jaime instructed. “We’re up high. We may not find water tomorrow.”

  “Are you sure it’s safe up here?” Beth asked.

  “Yeah. We’re going to be fine tonight. And remember, I’m a light sleeper. Nothing’s going to sneak into camp.”

  “I’ll be glad when daylight comes. It’s spooky out here without the moon.”

  “Do you . . . do you think Sandra will be okay?” Celia asked.

  Jaime frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, eventually, when we get out of here, we’ll tell them where she is.” Celia met Jaime’s eyes. “Will she still be there?”

  Jaime closed her eyes. She didn’t want to think about it. She certainly didn’t want to tell these women that most likely, wild animals would find Sandra before they did. So she lied. “She should be fine, Celia. It’s cold at night.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  He huddled inside his tent, his dinner long cold. The wind whistled around him, bringing cold air across the water. He again checked the receiver, and shook his head. The signal continued to move away from him at an alarming rate.

  “It’s in the goddamned river,” he muttered. How in the hell had they found the transmitter? But it didn’t matter. He could track them. They were heading upstream. He didn’t think any of them were savvy enough to get them out of the mountains without a trail. Not even the cop. No, they would most likely follow the river, thinking they were safe, thinking he was following the transmitter.

  “Bitches.”

  He didn’t bother cleaning up his dinner. He crawled inside his sleeping bag, wishing he’d thought to move away from the water, where it would be warmer.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “I’m like Celia,” Sara whispered. “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep.”

  “You’ll sleep fine.” Jaime took her boots off then moved her sleeping bag to face Sara. “Come here.”