Fugitive Trail

by Elizabeth Goddard

  That much evil in one person sent chills crawling over her.

  “All good questions.” Bryce dropped his hand. “Let’s get you out of here. I’m staying with you while they board up the window.”

  Sierra followed Bryce out to the living room where he put more logs on the fire. “You’re right when you say he’s going to keep coming for me. So I need to find him first like we discussed. We’re still going to search for a cabin or a mine or someplace to find where he’s hiding out, aren’t we?”

  Bryce leaned his arm on the mantel and stared into the fire, concern etched in his features. “Law enforcement is already searching, Sierra.”

  “But don’t you see, Bryce, most of the people searching are not local. They didn’t grow up exploring the woods and mountains around here. Help me to find him before he gets the advantage.”

  His gaze flicked to her. “And Samson? Are you willing to let him do what he was trained to do?”

  Her heart wasn’t willing, no. “Yes.”

  ELEVEN

  Tented vendor booths exhibiting ice tools, outdoor wear and gear lined the crowded walkway of the ice park. Spectators in coats and knit caps and beanies gathered to watch the ice climbing events featuring competitors climbing the frozen waterfalls of the gorge.

  Bryce kept Sierra close at his side as they meandered through the exhibits, people on every side of them. If he weren’t so focused on trying to protect her in this ridiculous scenario, he might enjoy actually watching the competitors scale the ice in the variety of contests including speed climbing.

  But his priorities required he focus completely on protecting Sierra from Raul, and searching for the man in the process. State law enforcement was present as well, some dressed in uniform and others in plain clothes—everyone here to spot Raul Novack if he showed his face in town.

  Like Sierra, Bryce couldn’t help but hope they actually spotted Raul today here in plain sight so they could get their hands on him once and for all.

  When the toy store didn’t see any customers, Sierra and John had made the decision to close the shop for a few hours so that Jane and Sierra’s father could watch the climbers. They would reopen for a couple of hours this afternoon. For now, all the excitement was here. Everyone wanted to see the action at the gorge or browse the vendor exhibits. No one was interested in shopping for toys at the moment.

  Samson stayed behind with Barbara and seemed to be on the mend. Bryce was proud of Sierra for allowing the dog back into action—for the second time in one day. Sierra was slowly getting there. Bryce hoped Samson wouldn’t have to protect her against Raul, but if it came to that, he would be glad for Samson’s help.

  He still found it interesting that Raul hadn’t shot and killed the dog in the woods the previous day. Maybe he’d missed, but at close range, Bryce doubted that. Many criminals had quirks and maybe Raul was willing to kill people but unwilling to kill animals. Bryce wouldn’t count on that though.

  When it came to Raul, conjecture was just that—a presumption.

  They made it to the gorge area just as the competition was starting, and maneuvered their way to a rail so they could watch as a woman used an ice pick and crawled her way up the frozen waterfalls. He kept thinking back to the way Raul had escaped them in the cold, snowy, icy mountains.

  He glanced at Sierra who was smiling, and for once in the last few days, he thought she actually might have forgotten an evil man was coming after her. Her cheeks were rosy from the cold, and a few snowflakes clung to her lashes. Warmth stirred inside him.

  Friends. You’re friends and nothing more.

  But the way he’d slipped his arm around her and the way they held on to each other for warmth and protection might seem to those around them that they were much more to each other than mere friends.

  Bryce planted a kiss on the side of her head. Oops. He’d acted without thinking. Sierra smiled at him as if she welcomed the attention.

  God, what happened to us? Why can’t we be together? Catch a break? Something?

  He had no business thinking about it. Or even asking God. He knew the answers to his questions—this woman had hurt him before because she hadn’t been willing to take the risk, and he wouldn’t let her do it again. He’d heard her plain enough last night as she shared with Barbara her reasons for not wanting to be with Bryce. It was as he’d suspected all along.

  He didn’t blame her. She had a choice and she’d made it. He had a choice too—to protect her until this was over. Then he’d be gone before he fell head over heels for her again.

  Her bright blue eyes flashed at him then at the climber scaling the ice, and his breath caught.

  Bryce loosened his grip on her just a little. She’d be okay. He didn’t have to hold her so close to protect her.

  There. That was better. His heartbeat slowed enough for him to breathe.

  “Bryce. Earth to Bryce.” Sierra pretended to knock on his head. “You’re a million miles away.”

  “Sorry.” He refocused on the task at hand. Being this close to her scrambled his brain.

  “Can you believe it’s almost lunchtime? I’m hungry. Let’s head over to grab food before everyone has the same idea.”

  “Sure thing.” He held her hand—just so they didn’t lose each other in the crowd, of course—as they pushed through the crowd, bumping into a few people, but no one as nefarious as Raul Novack. One of the more permanent eating establishments was situated near the ice festival and crowds already gathered there, while others remained focused on the competition.

  This town really exploded during this festival.

  Hot dogs, fries and Cokes in hand, Bryce and Sierra found a table inside the restaurant.

  “I don’t think he’s going to show up today.” She said the words around a mouthful of hot dog. “I can’t decide if I’m glad about that or mad. I mean, if he does show up here, then maybe we can get him and I can get on with my life and you can get back to yours.”

  Her brows suddenly pinched and she stared at the ketchup while she stirred a French fry, creating a figure eight. What was that about?

  He wouldn’t for one second imagine that she didn’t want him to leave. But her words had that effect on him, as if she’d said she wanted him to stay. As for him—he wasn’t sure how he would feel when it came time to leave her once and for all.

  Time to change the subject. “I’ve been thinking I might like to get a dog and train him.”

  That brought her face up, her beautiful blue eyes widened. “But you’re a PI now.”

  “So? Are you saying that since PIs don’t have their own canine groups, I can’t train a dog? Well, there are plenty of SAR dog rescue volunteers. I could get involved in SAR and other activities.” It would be something to do. Something to take his mind off...everything else. Off Sierra. Then again, it might only be a constant reminder. “I see how you are with Samson, and I’ve heard a few stories since being here of his rescues. That must bring you a measure of satisfaction and the sense of achievement. Like you’re actually accomplishing something.”

  “Stories? Who’d you hear those from?”

  “Well that guy at the café who seems interested in you. I grabbed coffee from there and he regaled me. He seemed very interested.”

  “Oh, I get it. He was fishing to see if...” Sierra seemed to catch herself.

  “Right. If you and I had something going.”

  Sierra sipped on her soda until the straw made the gurgling noise. “There’s nothing between me and Miguel. Would you excuse me? I need to use the facilities, but I’m not finished yet, so don’t throw my fries away.”

  She got up from the table.

  Why had she told him there wasn’t anything going on between her and Miguel? As though she thought he would care?

  He should follow her and stick close. He started to get up and then glanced down at her fries.
She wasn’t finished eating yet. Instead of leaving the food behind, Bryce watched her walk to the restroom, and kept his seat. He wanted to see her smile when she came back and saw him guarding her fries.

  * * *

  In the lady’s room, Sierra washed her hands. There’s nothing there between me and Miguel.

  Her words to Bryce echoed through her mind. Now why had she told him that? It wasn’t any of Bryce’s business if she was seeing anyone. They’d parted ways long before she’d moved and she hadn’t seen or heard from him in the year since she’d been back in Crescent Springs. So what if she’d changed her number?

  Sure she’d thought about him.

  A lot.

  More than she should or had a right to. But she’d seen the question in Bryce’s eyes when he mentioned that Miguel was fishing for answers—Bryce had been the one fishing. He’d wanted to know if Sierra was interested in Miguel.

  She thrust her hands under the dryer as if the obnoxiously loud noise could drown out her thoughts.

  If only.

  Sierra shoved through the door.

  A sharp pain jabbed into her back—unmistakably a knife. “Scream and you die right here.”

  The man belonging to the voice yanked her around the corner down a short hallway where the restrooms resided. The voice sounded raspy—was it Raul’s? She didn’t remember him sounding this way, but it had been a long time since that horrible night.

  It all happened so quickly Sierra couldn’t react to prevent it. All these people—it was so crowded that nobody noticed.

  And Bryce!

  The weapon pressed deeper against her shirt, just beneath her coat, making her wince. She had to do something now or the man would succeed in abducting her in broad daylight at the ice festival. At the end of the short hallway, he commanded her to open the door with the red exit sign.

  How could she use this door, this hallway, her defense tactics? How could she get away? If she screamed he would kill her—she had no doubt of that.

  Then as if anticipating she would try something, he jabbed her so hard, she almost cried out in pain. She was certain he’d drawn blood. The door opened up to an alley and cold air swirled inside the restaurant.

  This can’t be happening.

  All those people in the restaurant. All the crowds swarming the festival and the vendor exhibits, and an alley was empty? But she understood—two dumpsters blocked off one end, and a van blocked off the other.

  Sierra should have seen it coming. But she hadn’t and now she was in the middle of it. She was law enforcement. She knew how to protect herself. And yet she couldn’t use her weapon because he’d disarmed her with a knife.

  A stupid knife!

  In her peripheral vision she could see that he was wearing a ski mask. It wouldn’t draw suspicion—it was cold outside, after all. But it succeeded in hiding his face from all the law enforcement officers searching for him. No one paid much attention.

  She couldn’t suck in enough oxygen and hyperventilated. Fear choked her.

  God, help me!

  Even Samson couldn’t have prevented this. Sierra should be able to go to use the facilities without fear of an attack. But her dog could have at least warned her.

  The man guided her down the alley, but instead of the knife, he switched to her gun, having removed it from the shoulder holster as he held the knife to her throat. She could feel the muzzle pressing into her side under her coat. Locked and loaded. Ready to fire. At such close range it would blow a hole through her.

  She’d wait for the moment—that split second in time that Raul’s attention was somewhere else—and she’d go for the gun. What did that say about her that she lost her weapon to him?

  She let the fury at herself and the situation course through her, hoping it would drive away her fear, so she would be ready to act when that moment came.

  He urged her forward to approach the van parked at the end of the alley.

  Whatever happened next, she absolutely couldn’t let this man put her in that van.

  “Look, I don’t know what you think you’re doing. I don’t know why you think you can get away with this, but—”

  “Shut up!” He jabbed her weapon harder into her side.

  And that small pain was only a small taste of what he would do to her when he got her alone. He would torture her before he killed her.

  She fought the weakness spreading through her limbs.

  No, no, no, no...

  They were fast approaching the van, but Sierra was losing control of her body—her mind going into shock.

  “Don’t worry, girl. You’re not going to die. Not yet. I’ll let you watch me torture that beast you call a dog first.”

  Anger surged through her, empowering her. Sierra threw her head back and head-butted Raul. Temporarily stunned, she took that moment to free herself from his grip.

  She had to get that gun away from him. Her gun.

  “You’re not going to touch Samson!” She plowed into him, reaching for the weapon.

  He brought it down on her head. Darkness edged her vision.

  Raul yanked her up by her hair. Still stunned from the blow to her head, Sierra was powerless.

  “Stop right there. Let her go!” said Bryce.

  TWELVE

  Raul had his filthy hands on Sierra!

  Bryce pointed the weapon at the man, even as he pointed a gun at her head. The man yanked harder on her hair, but she didn’t scream. Blood oozed from her head. What had he done to her?

  Bryce saw red. He blinked to clear his vision, but he still saw red.

  He should take the shot now and kill the man and be done with it.

  “Lower your weapon or I’ll shoot.” Bryce allowed all the venom he held inside edge his tone.

  “I don’t think so,” Raul said. “You put yours down or I’ll kill her.”

  Bryce’s body shook but his hands were steady, his aim was true.

  “Mommy, Mommy...” A little girl ran around the van in search of her mom and ran right into Raul.

  Oh, no! Bryce couldn’t shoot. Raul was momentarily startled as well and lost his grip on Sierra, who slammed her elbow into his gut. He lost his aim and the advantage he’d had over Sierra and Bryce. Bryce had the drop on him and fingered the trigger, his aim true. Realizing he’d lost his chance, Raul shoved Sierra into the snow and took off into the crowd. He knew that Bryce wouldn’t shoot him in the back, or shoot into the crowd.

  Bryce was relieved he didn’t have to shoot the man in front of the little girl, but he was ready to give chase.

  A woman appeared and grabbed her daughter. Screamed when she saw Bryce’s weapon and blood in the snow. Sierra’s blood. How badly was she hurt? Bryce couldn’t lose Raul. But Sierra...

  He dropped to his knees next to her, his heart in his throat. “Sierra, Sierra. Are you okay?”

  She grabbed her head and peered up at him. “He hit me with the gun. I’m okay. You go after him. I’ll be all right. You can detain him for me. We have to get him!”

  “I’m not leaving you.” Bryce got his cell out and called the sheriff’s direct number to inform him that Raul was indeed in town. “We have to close the roads, whatever it takes to get him,” he said. “He almost got Sierra.” Almost took her from me.

  Bryce ended the call but he could hear in his head what the sheriff might have said to him. “I thought you were supposed to watch over her.”

  The guilt could crush him, and he would let it—later. After this was over. Now it was time to make amends.

  He grabbed her arm and assisted her to her feet. She leaned into him. “What kind of cop am I, Bryce, to let him get the best of me like that?”

  “You’re a great cop.” What kind of man, what kind of protector was Bryce to let Raul get to her?

  He escorted her out of the cold and
into Miguel’s café. “Wait, what are you doing?” she asked. “My home is across the street.”

  “I’m getting you out of the cold while I call an ambulance.”

  “What? Bryce, stop it. You don’t—”

  But he was already calling. The ambulance might have a tough time getting through the crowd, but it would be easier than him trying to get her to a vehicle to drive her to the hospital.

  “Can I do anything?” Miguel rushed forward. He peered at Sierra, his concern for her sincere.

  “Yes. A bag of ice would help.”

  Miguel nodded and quickly disappeared. He returned just as quickly with a big bag of frozen English peas and handed it directly to Sierra. “Here, put this on that knot.”

  She eyed him. “Thanks, Miguel.” Then she pressed it against her head.

  Concern for her filled Bryce. Fury at Raul twisted through his gut.

  Disappointment in himself could paralyze him. She might need someone else to protect her, but he knew she would never allow anyone else—he was fortunate she allowed him.

  A siren sounded in the distance. Miguel explained the small ambulance service often had to deliver people to bigger hospitals, but the nearby clinic could look her over and then if necessary send her to Montrose or Telluride. Bryce feared that would be the case though.

  EMTs rushed into the café with a gurney.

  “Oh, please,” she said. “I can walk.”

  The paramedic looked at her head. “Do me a favor and sit on the gurney.”

  Sierra sat and then she lay down.

  The woman looked at Bryce. “She’s going to be okay, don’t worry.”

  Words of assurance spoken without any real knowledge. “I’m coming with you,” Bryce said.

  “Who’s going to drive me home later if you don’t have a car, Bryce?” Sierra was thinking ahead, even injured. She had to be feeling that injury now, not only physically but psychologically.

  “The sheriff or your dad.” Oh, that’s right. Bryce would need to let her dad know what happened too. The gurney was moving and Bryce strolled along with it and held her hand. “Stop worrying, Sierra.”