Page 12 of Danger in the Wilderness (National Park Protectors #1)

Clara lay slumped against a large birch with a rope wrapped around her waist, securing her to the trunk.

Her chin rested on her chest, her arms spread wide and her hands balled into fists.

Leaves had been sprinkled over her body in a burial-type manner but didn’t hide the blood stains on her pajama top.

Blaire guessed they were from multiple stab wounds. They were too late.

“No!” She scrambled to the woman’s side and dropped to her knees, placing two fingers on Clara’s neck. Faint. “She’s alive. Get paramedics here now.”

Could it be? They beat PCK’s clock?

Something told her that wasn’t the case. The woman’s weak pulse and labored breathing proved she didn’t have much time. “Dekker, hurry.”

He radioed for an ambulance and gave their location.

Jayla bent beside Hercules and brought out a treat from her fanny pack, dropping it into his mouth. “Good boy. You found her.”

He chomped the snack then barked.

Blaire backed away from the scene. She couldn’t tamper with any more evidence. “Dekker, how long before EMS and police can get here? She needs help. Now or she won’t make it.”

“We’re pretty far into the park.” He turned to Bryson. “Your chopper is still in the area, right? Can we bring them in that way?”

“Yes. CBM gave us permission to keep the chopper here, as they knew we may need it. Our pilot Jeff is standing by.” Bryson yanked his two-way radio off his belt and pressed the button. “Too Tall, come in.” He walked away, speaking in hushed tones.

“I’ll get Constable Chase to meet the chopper at our landing pad near the station.” Dekker gestured toward Clara. “But we’ll need to get her to an opening in the forest. How can we move her without contaminating the evidence?”

Bryson returned to the group and pointed to the camera hanging around Blaire’s neck. “Blaire, take as many pics as you can and document anything you touch or move. Her life trumps the crime scene.”

“And we need her alive to find Dad and identify PCK,” Jayla said.

Clara moaned and her eyes fluttered open. “Help. Me.” Her faint words could barely be heard over top of the leaves rustling in the breeze.

Blaire rushed back to Clara’s side. “We’re here, Clara. Help is coming. Can you tell us who did this to you? Did you see their face? Recognize their voice? Anything you remember can help.”

She lifted her head, and her glossy eyes settled on Dekker. “Him. His—” She pointed, and a folded piece of paper fell out of her hand before she passed out.

“What does that mean?” She looked at Dekker. “Someone who looks like you?”

“Possibly. Is she okay?”

Blaire leaned closer and checked Clara’s breathing. “Her breathing is ragged. How far out are EMS and the chopper?”

“ETA is fifteen minutes,” Bryson said.

“What did she drop?” Dekker took a step then stopped. “Take pictures, Blaire.”

Blaire pushed herself up and took multiple photos of the crime scene, then the folded paper. She grabbed a nearby stick and pried it open. “It’s a picture.”

“Of what?” Dekker asked.

Blaire leaned closer and inhaled a ragged breath. “Your father.”

Jayla and Dekker hurried to where the picture lay and fell to their knees. Worry contorted both of their faces.

“This must be the clue PCK referred to in that note, Dekker.” Blaire placed a small stone in one corner to keep the wind from blowing the picture away. “Do you recognize the rock he’s propped against?”

Dekker leaned closer. “No, but it appears to be in a cave. There are lots of those in this massive park. I don’t see any identifying marks to narrow it down.”

“We’ll have to search them all.” Jayla’s hand flew to her mouth, and she sobbed. “Papa, please be okay.”

Bryson knelt beside her and brought her into his arms as Hercules snuggled close. He sensed his handler’s shift in emotions.

“He’s tied and gagged, but look at this.” Blaire pointed to his shoulder.

Blood soaked through a bandage. PCK had wrapped his gunshot wound. Why, when he probably planned to kill him anyway? Did he have some sort of remorse for the older man?

“Why would he dress his wound?” Dekker took off his hat and rubbed his forehead.

“Exactly what I was wondering. My guess is he’s keeping him alive for a special reason.

” Blaire removed the stone and used the stick to turn the photo over.

A corner of the photo paper was turned down.

Black markings appeared beneath. “There’s something here.

” Blaire placed the stone beside the corner and, using the stick’s point, gingerly pried the paper back. A message appeared.

The clock is ticking. Find him if you can. See if you can figure me out. The others couldn’t. Are you smarter, DH? PCK

Dekker stumbled backward. “What could that possibly mean?”

Blaire snapped a picture of the crudely written note. “I’m not sure, but now I’m wondering if there are other hidden messages on the photos left with the other vics.”

Helicopter blades whirled in the distance, and Bryson’s radio squawked. “Bry, ETA, two minutes to your location.”

“On our way, Too Tall.” Bryson positioned himself at Clara’s feet. “We need to get her into the clearing.”

Bryson and Dekker lifted Clara’s body, carrying her through the trees and into the small clearing. The helicopter hovered before landing, and two paramedics jumped out with Quinton. They removed a gurney and headed toward the group.

“Tell us the situation,” one paramedic said, dropping his bag beside Clara. “I’m Travis. That’s Chuck.”

Blaire reported her condition. “She woke for a moment then passed out again. Please hurry. We need her alive.” She addressed Quinton. “I took lots of pictures of the scene, but we had to move her to get her to the clearing.”

“Understood. CSI is on their way. I’ll wait for them at the scene.” He studied the group. “You all okay?”

“Fine, but PCK left me a weird message on his latest picture.” Dekker pointed to Blaire’s camera. “Can you show him?”

Blaire brought her screen to life and flipped to the photo in question. “Here it is.”

Quinton scowled. “We need to catch this person. Now.”

“Patient is ready for transport.” Travis closed his bag. “We need to get to the hospital, stat.”

Blaire placed her hand on Clara’s arm. “Please keep her safe.”

They nodded and advanced to the chopper, loading her inside. The helicopter’s blades whirled faster before it lifted into the air and rose above the treetops.

Hercules growled and barreled toward the tree line, barking.

“Jayla, what’s up with Herc?” Dekker asked.

“Good question. Hercules—”

An explosion sounded from the forest, drowning out the rest of Jayla’s command. A stream of light flashed into the air, and seconds later, a rocket-propelled grenade blasted into the helicopter’s tail. The chopper spun and pummeled toward the ground as black smoke shot upward.

“No!” Blaire yelled.

Dekker shoved her to the ground.

Her pulse skyrocketed, panic locking her muscles.

Lord, please save those on board.