Secret Mountain Hideout

by Terri Reed

  Drawing her away from the curious gazes, Chase said, “Jane, be straight with me. There’s a detective from Los Angeles here searching for a woman wanted in connection with a murder. And I’m pretty sure the woman in the photo he has is you.”

  Her stomach dropped. Fear squeezed her lungs, making breathing difficult.

  “Did you kill a man?”

  She swallowed back the bile rising to burn her throat. “Of course not. I could never—I wouldn’t—”

  She wasn’t a murderer.

  But she knew who was.

  Gregor had warned her not to tell anyone, not even the police. They were not to be trusted, he’d said. “I’ve got to go. This is the only bus out today.”

  “You’re not going anywhere—” Chase’s voice was hard and his eyes glittered with warning “—until you tell me the truth.”

  “Last call,” the bus driver called out, sliding a cautious glance their way.

  Her gaze darted from the bus to Chase. “Please,” she pleaded. “I need to leave. You don’t understand. If he finds me, he’ll kill me.”

  Confusion tampered down the hardness of Chase’s features. “Jane, trust me. I can protect you. Just tell me what it is you’re running from.”

  She shook her head and took a step back. “No. I was warned not to say anything. Not even to the police. I can’t trust you. I can’t trust anyone.”

  The driver stepped into the bus and closed the door. The bus’s engine rumbled and a few seconds later a plume of exhaust filled the air as the bus drove away. Frustration pounded a rapid beat at her temple. Now she was trapped with no way out.

  Chase snagged her hand and gently coaxed her fist open. “Jane, listen to me carefully.” His voice softened to a smooth tone that seemed to coil inside of her. Her pulse leaped. His touch soothed.

  “My job is to protect and serve the citizens of Bristle Township. You are one of its citizens.” The intensity in his clear gaze mesmerized her. “I will protect you. If you committed a crime, it is better for you to face it than to run.”

  Though his hands were warm and reassuring, her heart turned cold. She jerked away from him. “No. I didn’t commit a crime. I didn’t see anything. I don’t know anything.”

  He stepped closer, invading her space. “I understand you’re afraid. Whatever it is, I will be with you the whole way. Please, trust me.”

  She angled her head to stare at him. “Why is my trust so important to you?”

  As if her words were a splash of cold water, he abruptly stepped back. “It’s my job to protect you.”

  She shook her head with a dash of cynicism. “I know you want to believe you can protect me, but the type of people I need protection from don’t respect authority. They’d just as soon kill you as look at you.”

  Chase stood tall as if her words had been a personal assault. “Jane, tell me what you know.”

  She glanced around to make sure she wouldn’t be overheard. She hated how exposed and vulnerable she felt out in the open. She gestured for him to follow her beneath the shade of a large Douglas fir. “If I tell you, will you help me get out of here?”

  “If you tell me, I promise I will protect you.”

  More frustration bubbled inside her. What choice did she have? Her only option was to trust Chase and his promise of protection until she had an opportunity to run again. She had to stay vigilant if she wanted to stay alive.

  Her heart raced. Her gaze darted from shadow to shadow, half expecting Maksim Sokolov to step out from behind a tree like a bogeyman from a horror movie. “A year and a half ago—” her voice dipped as the secret she’d held inside escaped like a bat out of a dark cave “—I witnessed a murder.”

  * * *

  Jane’s words echoed through Chase’s brain. Sympathy squeezed his heart. Ever since the detective, who’d appeared this morning without warning at the sheriff station, had shown Chase the photo of a woman with long dark hair and bangs dressed in a black dress and pumps at the back door of a brick building, Chase’s stomach had been tied in knots.

  Though only the woman’s profile had been visible, there had been something vaguely familiar about the curve of her cheek, the line of her jaw. And then it had come to him. The woman in the photo was Jane.

  And she apparently was hiding in Bristle Township because she’d witnessed a murder. “Tell me what happened.”

  She shook her head. “If the killer finds out that I can identify him...” A visible shudder rippled through her. “He will kill me and anyone else in his path.”

  Her palpable fear sent all his protective instincts into high gear. She was in danger. Her life threatened by what she’d seen. Reining in the urge to comfort and assure her that she was safe, he let his training prompt him to ask, “Why is Detective Peters convinced you’re involved?”

  She turned to pluck the bark off the tree. Her shoulders slumped. “I don’t know.”

  Was he being played? He sent up a quick prayer, asking for God’s wisdom and guidance here. Keeping his voice from betraying the anxiety her words caused, he said, “We have to get you to the sheriff’s station so you can give your statement. You need to be brave now.”

  Chase hoped she would come willingly. He didn’t want to have to compel her by putting her in cuffs.

  For a long moment, she simply stared at him. He could see her inner debate with herself playing out on her face. Trust him or not.

  He couldn’t help her with the decision.

  Finally, she seemed to deflate. “I’m so tired of being scared. I want to be brave.”

  He covered her icy hand. “I’ll help you.”

  Snagging her duffel with his free hand, he walked with her away from the hotel. They hadn’t gone far when a black SUV pulled up alongside them and Detective William Peters hopped out. The tall, bulky man wore a wrinkled gray suit, white button-down shirt and red tie. His dark hair brushed the edges of his collar.

  There was something about the man’s gruff demeanor that had rankled Chase from the second they’d met. He chalked it up to city vs. small town. One of the many reasons Chase left the Chicago PD after only a year. He hadn’t wanted to become jaded like so many of his fellow officers.

  Chase believed in good over evil, that the right side of the law would win in the end. And justice wasn’t prejudiced or affected by social status. Maybe that made him naive as some had said. He didn’t care. He had faith that he was doing what God wanted for his life.

  Detective Peters’s dark eyes glittered with triumph. “There you are.” He opened the rear passenger door. “Get in. We have a plane to catch.”

  Jane clutched Chase’s arm. She made no move to comply.

  “Hold on a minute,” Chase told the detective. “We need to do this the right way. We go to the sheriff’s station so we can make a proper transfer to your custody.”

  Peters shook his head. “No way. She’s coming with me now. I have a warrant that gives me the right to take her into custody on sight.”

  Chase didn’t recall any mention of a warrant. “The sheriff will want to talk with her.”

  “There’s no time for that.” Peters stepped forward and grabbed Jane by the arm, yanking her from Chase’s grasp. He pushed her inside the back passenger side of the SUV.

  “You can’t just take her away,” Chase argued. “There’s protocol to follow.”

  Peters got in Chase’s face. “Back off. If you have an issue, then call the brass. I’ve got my orders.”

  “Chase?”

  Jane’s anxiety curled through Chase. “I’m going with you. I’ll get my own plane ticket. Even if I have to fly on a different airline.” He stepped forward to slide into the back seat with Jane when Peters slammed the door shut, blocking Chase from following her into the vehicle.

  Peters shoved Chase back a step and glared. “This is my collar, not yours. I’m not le
tting some Podunk deputy interfere with my investigation.”

  Taken aback by the man’s hostility, Chase put his hand on the butt of his weapon. Drawing on a fellow officer wasn’t something he wanted to do, but if the man continued with his aggressive behavior, Chase would have little choice. “She’s a witness, not a suspect.”

  “That’s for others with a higher pay grade to decide. She’s coming with me.” Peters jumped into the vehicle.

  Chase grabbed the back door handle but it was locked. He banged on the driver’s side window. “You can’t just take her like this.”

  The SUV’s engine revved. Peters hit the gas and the SUV peeled away, forcing Chase to jump aside to avoid being hit.

  This wasn’t right. There was a proper way of doing things. Chase ran to the sheriff’s station. At the front desk, he asked Carole if she could get the chief of the Los Angeles Police Department on the line for the sheriff. Then he moved into the inner sanctuary of the station. His voice shook with anger as he told the sheriff and the other deputies about Jane and what had just transpired.

  “I’ve got the Burbank Police Department on the line,” Carole called from her desk. “Should I send the call to your desk, Sheriff?”

  “No, send it to Chase’s,” Sheriff Ryder replied.

  Stunned, Chase stared. “Sir?”

  “You’re running point on this one,” the sheriff replied.

  Not about to question his boss, Chase sat at his desk and punched the blinking light. A second later a man’s deep voice came on the line. “Chief Macintosh, how can I help you?”

  Chase hurriedly explained the situation, giving his protest at the detective’s manhandling of their citizen.

  There was a long pause before Chief Macintosh replied, “You say this man had Detective William Peters’s identification?”

  A strange question. An unsettled apprehension curled through Chase. “He did.”

  “The man’s an imposter,” Macintosh said. “Detective William Peters is dead. Murdered during an undercover operation.”

  TWO

  The air swooshed out of Chase’s lungs. If he hadn’t been sitting, he’d have fallen to the floor. His mind raced and his blood pounded. The man posing as Detective William Peters was a fake. The real detective was dead.

  Jane was in danger.

  Kidnapped. And Chase had let it happen.

  Guilt reached up to throttle his windpipe. He’d made a horrible mistake by not stopping the fake detective. Now Jane would pay the price.

  “Whoever this woman is, she could be a potential witness to the real Detective Peters’s murder,” Chief Macintosh continued.

  Chase’s stomach sank. “She claims she can ID a killer.”

  Excitement buzzed in the chief’s voice. “Did she give a name?”

  “No, sir.” She’d been too afraid. He could only imagine how terrified she was now. She’d tried to warn him not to trust anyone. Chase had lost control of the situation. A rookie mistake. He wasn’t a rookie anymore. Self-anger burned in his gut.

  “You need to find this phony detective before he kills her,” Chief Macintosh said, his tone grim.

  “I will.” Chase hung up with knots in his stomach.

  The man said they had a plane to catch, which meant they were headed to Denver. He needed the state patrol’s help. He jerked to his feet. “Carole, can you get the state patrol on the line?”

  “Chase?” Deputy Kaitlyn Lanz rose from her desk. “What’s wrong?”

  “The real Peters is dead. The man posing as him most likely is an assassin sent to silence Jane. We have to find them.”

  Eyes wide with a mix of worry and surprise, Kaitlyn said, “Yes, of course.”

  Carole hurried from her desk. “Sheriff, the phones are blowing up again. A speeding black SUV nearly ran down Brady Gallo. Others are reporting the vehicle heading up Bishop Summit.”

  Chase was familiar with the forestry road on the backside of Eagle Crest Mountain, which led to the ski resort at the top. It was a dangerous, twisty climb with lots of cliffs on one side. The assassin wasn’t taking Jane to Denver but to a remote area to kill her.

  “Also, Lucca Chinn is here, wanting to know what’s going on,” Carole said.

  Groaning aloud, Chase jerked his gaze to the sheriff. The last thing they needed was The Bristle Township Gazette’s publisher, reporter and custodian—the man was a one-person operation—sticking his nose into the situation. Even a small town had someone who insisted the public needed to be kept informed, and Lucca Chinn had appointed himself the resident news source.

  “I’ll take care of Chinn,” the sheriff stated. “You go.”

  Galvanized into action, Chase ran out the door with deputies Daniel Rawlings and Kaitlyn Lanz on his heels.

  “I’ll be right behind you.” Kaitlyn peeled away and ran toward her own vehicle.

  Chase didn’t stop to question why she needed to drive her own truck pulling a horse trailer as he slid into the driver’s seat of one of the department-issued vehicles while Daniel hopped into the passenger seat. Chase lifted a prayer that he would get to Jane before it was too late.

  * * *

  Ashley stared out the window of the rear passenger seat of the big black SUV as the vehicle roared up the access road to the ski resort. Green trees and various other plants growing wild along the edges of the road were a blur. The SUV’s tires squealed as the vehicle sped through a curve in the road.

  “I don’t understand,” she said to the man in front. “I thought you said we were going to the airport. This isn’t the way to Denver.”

  She could only see his profile at this angle. His nose had a lump on the top like he’d broken it and not had it set well. His dark hair was unruly. Everything about him was at odds with the button-down way Deputy Chase Fredrick presented himself. “Shut up,” the detective growled.

  Alarm raised the hairs on her arms. She didn’t know what this man was up to but the dread squeezing her lungs urged her to escape. She tried the door handle, but the door wouldn’t open. He’d activated the vehicle’s child locks, keeping her trapped inside. She tried the window, but it too wouldn’t open. Not that either option was an escape when the SUV was buzzing along like a rocket on the twisty road.

  She kicked the front seat. “Hey! What are you doing? Where are you taking me?”

  He ignored her.

  Who was this man driving her up the mountain? Was he really a detective? Fear scraped along her nerves. Had her captor been sent by Maksim Sokolov?

  The vehicle made a sharp turn into an overlook gravel turnout and came to an abrupt halt, throwing her forward. The seat belt snapped into a locked position, keeping her from flying into the back of the front seat. The strap cut into her chest. Once the pressure lessened, she rubbed at the place where the seat belt had no doubt left a mark.

  The detective climbed out of the SUV and came around to her side of the vehicle. She quickly unbuckled and scooted across to the other side of the back seat as he yanked open the door. She attempted to climb into the front driver’s seat but her attacker reached in and grabbed her by the ankles, dragging her toward him.

  Frantic, she kicked, hoping to dislodge his grip, but his hands were like manacles, his fingers digging into her flesh and not letting go. He yanked her out of the SUV, her back bumping painfully on the edge of the door frame. She landed flat on the ground with a jarring jolt. Gravel and grit bit into her through her clothes.

  Her assailant loosened his grip for a fraction of a second, which was enough time for her to break out of his grasp with a forceful jerk. She jumped to her feet and ran toward the road, hoping someone else would drive by. Feet pounded behind her. She pushed herself to move faster, but she’d never been a strong runner.

  Her captor caught her, grabbing her by the waist and lifting her off her feet. She pummeled his arms and lashed out wit
h her feet.

  “You are so dead,” he growled. “Even if I hadn’t been sent here to kill you, I’d do it just because.”

  “Please, no. I haven’t told anyone what I saw,” she beseeched the man, hoping for mercy. “You can tell Mr. Sokolov I won’t talk.”

  Ignoring her pleas, her kidnapper carried her away from the road, past the SUV and dragged her across the lookout barrier. There was an overhang not far below.

  “Move it,” he demanded, giving her a push, forcing her down the steep incline.

  Her tennis shoes made the going rough, as the rubber slipped on the loose dirt and rocks. Using her arms, she tried to keep her balance, fearing that she’d take a header over the side of the cliff.

  “But you’re a law enforcement officer,” she exclaimed, shocked by his words that he truly did intend to kill her. “You can’t mean to really harm me. What about your oath to protect?”

  He let out an evil laugh that sent chills down her spine. “The police think you’re a killer. Besides, no one is going to care when you’re dead.”

  His words sliced her open. “How much did Mr. Sokolov pay you?” she demanded, wishing she could offer him more, but she had no money. “How much is my life worth?”

  “Enough to set me up for the rest of my life,” he said. “No more talking. Time for you to die.”

  Terror consumed her. The man hauled her toward the ledge that dropped off to a steep cliff with a deep ravine far below. The nightmare she’d been trapped in was coming to a horrifying end.

  At the edge of the outcropping, his rough hands reached for her. Acting instinctively, she dropped to the ground, wrapping her arms around his ankles. If she was going over the cliff, so was he.

  * * *

  Chase’s hands gripped and re-gripped the steering wheel as he took the corners at a breakneck speed. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, giving him a lead foot.

  “Whoa,” Daniel said, bracing his hands on the dashboard as the vehicle careened around a curve on the forestry road on the backside of Eagle Crest Mountain. “It’s not going to do Jane any good if we drive off the side of the mountain.”