Page 13 of Disappearance at Angel’s Landing (Red Rock Murders #2)

Her moan pulled her back into consciousness. Or had she been snoring? It was hard to tell.

Pine branches swayed above her, glimpses of sunlight bearing down in between them. The ground was soft beneath her. And sweaty. Like lying on a sleeping bag.

That wasn’t right. Last she’d checked, she was about to be squashed like a pancake by a boulder twenty times her size. And then… She couldn’t remember anything else.

“You’re awake.” The voice came from somewhere to her right.

Deep and vibrating. Almost…amused? Movement out of the corner of her eye convinced her brain to burn the last of the haze.

The owner’s outline grew larger as he drew close.

Dragging one foot behind the other. “I was beginning to think I wouldn’t have any use for you after all, Ranger Jordan. ”

Oh. Damn it. She’d been kidnapped.

Shadows played across a deeply tanned face as a new gust of wind startled the tree overhead.

Dark brows cut across a broad forehead lined with age markers.

Midforties at least. Salt peppered through a few days of beard growth and at the temples of dark hair.

His eyes were a bit sunken, surrounded by fine lines, but his face overall was soft.

Bands of muscle fought to break free of the tight long-sleeved shirt he wore.

Polyester if she had to guess, wicking, quick-drying.

Something a seasoned climber might use, along with the loose nylon pants currently covered in blood.

It took a minute for her name to register. Then she remembered her uniform came complete with a name tag to make it easier for hikers and visitors to verbally abuse her on the trails. Seemed the landslide hadn’t deemed it worth destroying.

Lila rolled to her side, instantly reminded of the bruises across her rib cage. The pain struck as though she’d been kicked in the gut as she settled her weight on all fours over a sleeping bag that most definitely wasn’t hers. “I don’t know you.”

“But I know you.” Tipping the point of a pocketknife in her direction, the man she assumed to be Sarah Lantos’s killer settled against the trunk of the tree a few feet away.

“I know you’re the one who’s leading the charge to find me.

You discovered Sarah’s body. You were the one who tested my climbing gear.

The one leading your partner straight to me. ”

Had he been watching her? Creepy. And definitely the killer.

“Where is Branch?” Her chest hurt. She was thirsty, and her stomach felt as though it’d started eating itself. Or maybe she’d developed an ulcer in the past couple hours. Anything was possible.

Searching what looked like a smaller campsite than the one they’d come across earlier, Lila cataloged whatever was in sight.

And what wasn’t, her pack included. She’d tossed it, trying to let any search-and-rescue rangers know her location, but did they even realize what’d happened?

The US Geological Survey monitored every national park for seismic activity.

Did a landslide qualify? Would SAR be deployed in time to recover Branch?

“The last I saw of him, he was getting swept away with a whole bunch of dirt.” He enunciated a low whistle with a flutter of his fingertips, clutching an apple and the pocketknife in the other hand.

Very Bond villain, if she was being honest. All he needed was a white cat to stroke as he revealed all his evil plans.

“Can’t imagine he survived. Dynamite can be very unpredictable.

You’re very lucky you’re still alive. For a moment there I thought you were a goner with all those boulders. By the way, how did you survive?”

Dynamite? Her heart shot into her throat. No. Branch was still alive. He had to be. Because the alternative…

Lila kept her gaze on the weapon in the man’s hand. To give herself something to focus on other than the heartbreak threatening to claw her apart from the inside. “You caused the landslide. You killed—”

“Yes, yes. I’m the bad guy. I killed Sarah Lantos and shoved her over the side of Angel’s Landing. I killed your partner. I destroyed part of your precious park. Blah, blah, blah.” Leaning forward, her kidnapper waved a hand.

Tears burned in her eyes, though she honestly doubted she’d drunk enough to provide much release.

Her kidnapper had brought her deeper into the valley.

Flat landscape surrounded this little pine oasis, making her nothing but a target if she ran.

The only other option was sprinting for the canyons, but without her supplies, she wouldn’t last more than a day. Maybe two. “What do you want?”

“I have a problem.” He limped toward her, heavily relying on his uninjured leg. Cutting along the seam of his pant leg, the killer exposed the bloody wound in his thigh. “And you’re going to fix it.”

“She stabbed you.” Branch had been right about the victim fighting off her attacker before she’d gone over the edge of the cliff. He’d probably rub it in her face for days if he found out. “Sarah Lantos. She fought back.”

“Not before I stabbed her first.” The corner of his mouth quirked to one side, and Lila’s stomach rolled. It was nothing compared to the slight twitches of Branch’s mouth that told her he found her amusing if not a little exhausting. This one was completely acidic.

She shook her head, forcing her gaze to the killer’s face.

Memorizing everything she could about it.

Though now that she thought about it, he’d probably planned on killing her to make sure she couldn’t identify him.

Still, hostage or not, sometimes it was nice to be held. “I don’t have my first aid kit.”

“Then it’s a good thing I came prepared with more than a pocketknife.” Adjusting his weight, he took a seat on the ground alongside her, his injured leg nearly touching her hip.

She could run. Based on the amount of blood oozing from the injury at the back of his thigh, he probably wouldn’t be able to catch her.

Then again, he’d obviously been able to stay conscious and alive since stabbing Sarah Lantos yesterday afternoon and managed to drag her to this campsite, so there was a chance she’d only be making her situation worse.

The weight of his attention curdled the coffee she’d substituted for breakfast this morning. “I will catch you, Ranger Jordan, and I won’t be as careful with you as I was bringing you here.”

One second. Two. She raised her gaze to his, shutting down the shiver working to break free up her spine.

“Get the kit.” He nodded toward a pack at the end of the sleeping bag she’d woken on. “Front enclosure.”

Her hands shook as she followed instructions.

She couldn’t seem to get the zipper around the curve of the pack as she searched for the easiest route to run long distance.

Years of traversing these trails had blessed her with muscles she couldn’t name.

She had no doubt she’d be able to outrun this guy on a good day, but that meant leaving Branch behind. Possibly injured.

She got the zipper unfastened and freed the first aid kit inside.

This was why she’d petitioned rangers outside of the law enforcement division to carry weapons, but Risner had shut that down real fast. Accusing her of most likely injuring herself with a Taser rather than her intended target.

When she got back to headquarters, she’d show him exactly how accurate her aim was for putting her in this position.

Lila made a show of zipping the front enclosure with one hand while prying the larger compartment open.

A gun stared back at her. Sitting right on top.

She couldn’t tamp down the shudder shaking across her shoulders as she shoved it deeper into the pack.

Just in case. Crossing the sleeping bag, she settled the first aid kit in front of her and popped the lid. “You got a name?”

His laugh practically took physical shape between them. “Why are you asking?”

“Because saying, ‘Hey, asshole, this is going to hurt’ is awkward.” Tearing a slit up the side of his pants, she exposed the wound farther.

Blood crusted around the edges, but whatever his victim had done hit deep, most likely nicking a major vein.

He was still bleeding from an injury he couldn’t reach at the back of his thigh, and if she didn’t irrigate and clean the wound, he would suffer from infection and greater blood loss.

Not enough to kill him, though. At least, not soon enough.

“You don’t need my name.” He flinched at her touch. Baby. She hadn’t even started cleaning the wound yet.

“Fine. Then I will assign one for you.” She used the gauze pads to scrub as much blood from the edges as possible, using his water to break up the flakes.

She tucked the water bottle between her thighs for easy access when the time came.

She wasn’t trying to be careful or mindful of his pain.

In fact, she wanted this to hurt as much as possible, but other than that first flinch, the killer didn’t seem to feel anything.

Had he felt anything when he’d killed Sarah Lantos?

Lila put as much hatred into her expression as possible as she leveled her gaze with his and dug her nails into the sides of the wound.

“I’m going to call you Covid. For obvious reasons. ”

Another laugh startled her. This one had more bite, and it stuck in her body and refused to get the hell out. The smile that contorted his face fell, and before she had a chance to react, the killer crushed his hand against her throat. And squeezed.

“You make jokes to distract yourself from what hurts. All of these additions to your uniform, the pink nails, the makeup, the bleached hair. Everything I see about you makes me think you work so hard to make the outside beautiful because the inside is rotten. What was it, Ranger Jordan? Mommy didn’t love you enough?

Daddy hit you a little too often? Or was it something much, much more terrifying? ”

Air lodged in her chest, and her defenses automatically had her reaching for his wrist to break the hold.

But he wouldn’t budge. Panic flared, rolling through her and clenching every muscle she owned.

He was so much bigger than she was. So much stronger.

The pocketknife he’d held was right there.

Her gaze darted down to it, then back up so as not to give herself away, but she was getting desperate. For air. For escape. For him to stop.

The killer dragged her upper body over his leg, close enough she could smell the sweetness of the apple he’d been eating on his breath.

He scanned her from scalp to chin, those dark eyes seemingly undoing years of defenses.

Loosening his hold, he let his fingers brush beneath the kerchief at her neck.

Then untied the knot. The fabric fell away easily, exposing her—and the scar beneath—to him in a way she’d never allowed for anyone.

“You want people to take you seriously, but you keep them at arm’s length. You hide from them. Lie to them. Like a magician, you keep their attention on one thing while the trick is happening in another place altogether.”

“Everybody needs a hobby.” Lila tried to pull back, to put those precious inches back between them, but he’d locked his hand around her throat a second time. That unreadable expression focused solely on the marred skin across her neck. Her pulse thudded—too hard—against his hand.

“Tell me who did this to you.” His thumb pressed into the scar tissue spanning straight over her throat.

Her training failed her in every regard. She didn’t know what to do, what to think about his request. So similar to the one Branch had made of her. Who made you afraid?

Lila slid one hand around the metal water bottle she’d used to clean the killer’s wound. Then bashed it as hard as she could into his face. His groan punctured through the haze he’d created. The grip at her throat vanished, and she shoved to stand.

Lila ran toward the canyon mouth, unwilling to look back. And hoped she came out on the other side alive.