THIRTY-ONE

Meredith wasn’t as cold as she’d been before, and she was pretty sure that was a problem. Before the explosion, she’d zoned out several times. Then Gray would shift, or pinch her leg, or press an elbow into her side, and she’d refocus. After the second time he pinched her, she realized he was doing everything he could to keep her awake.

She’d been sitting on a branch a few feet off the ground. It was uncomfortable, but better than sitting on the wet ground. At some point, Gray had shifted so his feet were on the ground and he’d been holding on to her. Or maybe holding her in place so she didn’t fall? She wasn’t sure.

Her head spun. Gray pulled away slightly and looked at her. “We have to try to get home, Meredith. We can’t stay here any longer. Do you think you can walk?”

“Yes.” She had no idea if she could or not, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to try.

“Okay, here’s the plan. We keep following the river. We keep our eyes open. The gunfire will have brought Cal and Mo this way. Donovan and Brick too. We keep moving until we find some friendlies.”

“Gray? What are the chances—”

He stopped her question with a quick kiss. “We don’t think that way in battle. We can’t. Our friends are fine. Our family is fine. And we’ll see them soon. Okay?”

Having never been in a battle before, she decided to borrow his survival mechanism. Because if she thought too much about Cal or Mo lying somewhere nearby? Bodies torn apart? With two bullet holes for good measure?

She blinked back hot tears. “Okay.”

She climbed down from her perch, crawled out from under the branches Gray held for her, and followed him as he slowly made his way toward the river while still keeping them a good distance from it.

They’d walked for three minutes when they found the first body. Gray held up his hand. “Don’t look.” But it was too late. She’d already seen. The man on the ground was missing an arm, and the blood had turned the rainwater around him into a pink puddle.

Gray pulled his phone from his pocket and snapped a photo.

They kept walking. A minute later, another body was leaning against a tree, eyes wide. Gray took another photo.

The path he took must have been on the edge of the carnage because there weren’t any more bodies until they’d walked past the bend in the river.

What she saw sent Meredith to her knees, stomach heaving. Five bodies. Or, more precisely, what was left of them. Gray helped her up, and they kept moving.

They hadn’t seen a body for five full minutes when a man stepped in front of them.

She wasn’t sure who was more shocked, him or her. Gray shoved her out of the way. She slid, lost her balance, and rolled several feet as the man’s weapon came up and he fired.

Gray went down. Meredith screamed. The man turned toward her.

She tried to stand, but her legs gave out, so she crawled toward Gray. She couldn’t leave him.

The shooter raised his weapon again, and she knew it was over. She reached Gray and fell across his chest. She felt movement under her, and a shot rang out. Or were there two?

But she felt no pain. Was she dead? She really hadn’t expected heaven to be this wet. Or cold.

She looked up to see the man fall, but before he went down, she saw the hole in his forehead, and blood blooming on his chest.

Meredith didn’t know if she was next. She didn’t know who’d killed the man who’d shot Gray. She couldn’t think about it.

She turned to Gray. His chest continued to rise and fall. He had a heartbeat, but his eyes were closed.

A man knelt beside her. His weapon was drawn, but it wasn’t pointed at her. “That was some shot, man. Where are you hit?”

What was this guy talking about? He was the one who’d done the shooting. She tried to focus. Her brain was so fuzzy.

Gray stirred under her hands. “Meredith?”

“Gray!”

“You’re okay.” He reached up and pulled her against him. “You’re okay.”

“Yes, she’s okay, but we need to get her out of here.” The man pulled off his raincoat, then pulled a heavy sweater over his head. And without so much as a “Hello, my name is ...” he pulled Meredith to her feet, ripped her raincoat off of her, and slipped the sweater over her head. Then he manhandled her back into her raincoat.

She moaned in relief. The warmth was so intense it was almost painful.

Gray sat up and looked at a spot behind her. “Thank you.”

“You had it under control.” The man—she needed to get his name because she couldn’t keep calling him “the man” in her head—extended a hand and pulled Gray to his feet. Then helped steady him. “Can you breathe?”

Was he talking to Gray? Her? Who was he? What was happening?

Gray bent over at the waist, hands on his knees. “Give me a second.” He pointed to Meredith. “Meredith, meet Carlos. Carlos, Meredith.”

“Ma’am.” Carlos shook her hand.

Gray straightened. His face was contorted, and he rubbed his chest. “That’s gonna leave a mark.”

“Beats a hole.”

A mark beats a hole? Meredith didn’t understand what they were talking about. But when she tried to ask, her voice didn’t work right.

“No doubt.” Gray retrieved his weapon from the ground, then wrapped an arm around Meredith’s waist. “We’ve been cut off from all communication since we left the wedding. What are we walking into?”

Meredith leaned into Gray and tried to concentrate on what the man was saying. What was his name? Carl? No. That wasn’t right. Whoever he was, he was pointing into the trees. “I have a bike parked a few hundred yards back.”

A bike? Like they could ride a bike out of the forest. What good would a bike do?

“There’s a trail. It’s not much, but it will take you to the road and dump you out solidly in Gossamer County. You ride out, get your girl warm. I’ll hike out.”

Gray didn’t argue with him and followed the man where he led them. “I’ll send someone after you.”

“No need.”

Gray studied the man’s back, then nodded. “How about I put someone on the road who can give you a ride?”

“That would be appreciated.”

They reached a dirt bike. Ah. That made more sense. It would be a tight squeeze for the two of them. Would they fit?

Gray straddled the bike. “I think it’s time for you to call it quits on this gig, man.”

What gig?

The man gave him a grim smile. “If I don’t get out of here”—he pointed to Meredith—“inside pocket. Has all she needs.”

What would she need that was in the pocket? Meredith patted the sweater. There was something in one pocket, but it was tiny, and she couldn’t think of how it would be helpful. Nothing was making any sense.

“I’ll let her know, but you’re going to get out. We’ll come back for you.” Gray kickstarted the dirt bike and patted the back.

The man helped Meredith climb on behind Gray, pointed out the trail, and disappeared into the forest.

Meredith dropped her head against Gray’s back and tried to hold on.

Gray rode as fast as he could through the forest. The trail was barely more than a deer path, but it was enough. When he popped out onto the highway, he could have cried in relief.

But when a big truck flew around a curve in the other direction, then screeched to a halt, he had to bite back a sob. Mo and Cal jumped from the truck and ran toward them. “Hypothermia. Get her warm.” He pressed a kiss to Meredith’s forehead, then handed her to Mo.

He needed to stay with her. But he couldn’t. “I have to go back.”

“I’m with you.” Cal tossed the keys to Mo.

“No.”

“Not up for debate. Mo will call it in and get us more backup.”

Mo nodded at them both and settled Meredith into the front of the truck while Cal grabbed a backpack. Gray could hear Mo talking before Cal closed the door.

“Let’s go.”

Gray filled Cal in as they walked back to the bike. Dirt bikes weren’t made for two men their size, but it would be faster than walking. Before they climbed on, Cal handed Gray a heavy sweater, gloves, and a dry jacket. Gray stripped out of everything except the ballistic undershirt that had saved his life, put the dry, warm clothes on, and then climbed on behind Cal.

Cal was better at bikes, and Gray was a better shot. It only made sense.

They made it back to the spot where he’d left Carlos in twenty minutes and found the man sitting by the river.

They approached slowly. “Carlos?” Gray called out. He didn’t want to get shot. Again.

Carlos raised a hand but didn’t turn. Cal stayed back, gun in hand, scanning the area. Gray joined Carlos by the raging river.

“You were supposed to send a car. Not come back in here. What’s wrong with you?”

“I’m a Marine. We never leave a man behind.”

“Oorah.” Carlos handed a small phone to Gray. “I recorded everything. But you should probably go look for yourself.” He pointed to the spot where the hut had probably stood.

Nothing was there now. Gray stood and walked in that direction. Cal joined him.

“I don’t know what we’re about to find, but it won’t be pretty,” Gray said to Cal. “You can stay back.”

Cal ignored him. Typical.

Thirty feet from what he assumed had been the footprint of the hut, there was evidence of a small mudslide.

Stuck in the mud were bones.

Lots and lots of bones.

“I think we found Johnstone’s burial ground.”

It was another eight hours before Gray finally walked into his house. Carlos was safely en route to Raleigh. It wasn’t safe for him to be anywhere near Neeson.

Faith Powell had arrived an hour after they walked out of the woods, and she’d brought friends. A forensics team from the State Bureau of Investigation, based out of the Asheville area, descended on the woods. They established a large perimeter and set up huge tarps over the most obvious burial sites. They worked until after dark getting the bodies out. In all, there were nine fresh corpses, including the man who’d shot Gray. There were three female bodies whose decomp indicated that their deaths had been in the last month. Gray suspected that they were the three women Carlos had told him about.

Everything else would have to wait for daylight. The rain had stopped around dark, but the temperature was going to drop into the teens tonight. The SBI team set up high-tech surveillance and planned to spend the night in a warm van, watching monitors, rather than in the forest with the skeletons.

Gray supported that decision.

Faith Powell had taken the opportunity to storm the castle. Literally. She’d brought a team with her, and they arrived at Marvin Johnstone’s home to find the place in chaos. She took him into custody, placidly ignoring his insistence that he would have her badge, that her career was over, and that she would regret the day she took this action.

Dennis Kirby didn’t say a word when she arrested him and took four Neeson officers into custody.

Tonight, Faith and her team were headed back to Asheville, along with the prisoners. She would be back in the morning, and she’d probably wind up staying for several days. He would be glad for the help.

Gray stumbled into his kitchen. He was tired in a way he’d never been before. Everything hurt. Dr. Shaw had said to expect muscle pain from the hours of intense cold, and that he had a bruised rib from the bullet he’d taken to the chest. But otherwise, there was nothing wrong with him that sleep wouldn’t fix.

Except that he needed to see Meredith. He’d talked to her twice. The last time had been two hours earlier, and he’d told her he would see her tomorrow. She was fine. She’d warmed up nicely and her head had cleared. Dr. Shaw told her there would be no permanent damage, but she’d also prescribed a sedative because she was concerned about how keyed up Meredith was.

He glanced at his watch. 10:00 p.m. He could call her. If she’d taken the sedative, she’d be zonked. But if she answered—

He stepped into his living room and dropped the phone.

A fire roared in the fireplace. On his coffee table sat two steaming mugs. And in his oversized chair sat Meredith, wrapped up in blankets. “Hi.”

She threw the blankets off, but he reached her before she could stand. He pressed a knee into the seat beside her and kissed her.

There was no passion or intensity in this kiss. This was a kiss filled with relief and gratitude and the need to reassure his heart that she was alive. When they broke apart, she patted the seat beside her. “I won’t stay long. We both need to sleep. But I couldn’t let the man who took a bullet for me be greeted by a cold, empty house.”

He settled in beside her, and when she curled into him, her head on his chest, he draped the blanket over them both and knew he was finally home.