Page 22

Twenty-Two

Stephanie

“They found them.”

I look up to see Alex walking down the path toward me.

I’ve been sitting out here for a while, nursing my coffee, which is stone cold by now, and watching the sun rise to its highest point in the sky over the ranch. It’s warm, and it is a beautiful day to be out and enjoy the view, but my patience is wearing thin.

Wilcox promised me last night he would try and look into the location for Tracy’s phone if he could find a quiet moment to do it unobserved, but I haven’t heard from him yet. I’m not used to waiting.

I plaster on a smile for Jackson’s mother, even though it takes me a moment to clue in to what she’s talking about.

“The two hikers. They found them,” she clarifies.

“Of course.” I shake my head. “Sorry, my mind was elsewhere. That’s great news.”

“Jonas says it’ll be a while yet before they can get them down the mountain, but he thinks the crew should be home in a couple of hours.”

“Good. That’s good. That is…are they okay? The hikers, I mean?”

I can already tell from her wince at my question, the news may not all be good.

“He asked me to dispatch an ambulance so it’ll be waiting at the trailhead. He didn’t ask for two ambulances.”

I have no trouble understanding the implication of a single ambulance. One injured, which leaves me to deduce the other is no longer in need of medical care. Immediately, my thoughts go to Jackson, and I worry about his mental state, but I’m not sure if that’s a subject I should discuss with his mother, so I refrain from asking how he’s doing.

She may have worries of her own though, because she sits down on the small porch beside me and lets her gaze drift out to the view.

“It can be tough on the guys,” she begins. “It’s great when they can rescue and bring people back alive, but unfortunately, all too often, they find death instead—sometimes very ugly—and in some cases they carry that burden with them. Questioning themselves if they’ve done all they could. Were they fast enough? If they’d gone north instead of east, could they have been in time?”

She sighs, wringing the hands in her lap.

“For some of them, it can trigger memories they’d rather not revisit. I know Jonas still wakes up in the middle of the night from nightmares from time to time. These men rarely talk, some are so closed off they never do, and others just get angry. All we can do is be there for them to grab hold of when they need us.”

She looks at me with a plea in her eyes, and I know it’s not Jonas who’s on her mind, but Jackson. I cover her clasped hands in her lap with one of mine.

“He talks to me. I’m sure not about everything, but some of it,” I assure her. “Maybe it’s because I’ve shared some of my own struggles and experiences with him. But regardless, I think he knows I’m here for him.”

Alex shakes her head, clearly struggling not to cry as she grabs on to my hand.

“Only one thing worse than seeing your man in pain, it’s seeing your child in agony and knowing there is nothing you can do for him. I am so glad—so grateful—he has found a strong, compassionate woman to lean on when he needs to.”

Oh dear. I feel my own eyes burning and my nose starts to sting. What do you say to that? You can’t say thank you to a compliment as profound, a trust as deep as she’s offering me.

So I say nothing and hold on to her hand as I let a tear of my own roll down my cheek.

For someone who used to pride herself on her tough exterior, I sure am turning into a bit of a powder puff.

I don’t get a chance to indulge in the discovery of my softer side for long because my phone—which I’d propped up on the porch railing—starts ringing. Shane Wilcox’s name pops up on the screen. The call I was waiting for.

“I’m so sorry, I have to take this,” I apologize, snagging the phone as I get to my feet. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll leave you to it.” Alex stands up as well.

“No, please…this’ll only take a minute.”

I quickly slip inside as I answer the call.

“What have you got for me?”

“Hello to you too,” Shane responds sarcastically.

“Sorry,” I mumble.

“You’re forgiven. It took me a while, I guess you were waiting by the phone.”

“Something like that.”

“That phone number, I didn’t exactly get a pinpoint reading on it—which is always a problem in rural settings and in particular the mountains—but I’m sending you the information. What I can tell you is that the phone didn’t travel too far.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve gotta go, but check the map I just sent you.”

The line goes dead.

I immediately check my emails and open the one from Shane.

Well, I’ll be damned. I can see what he means that it’s not a precise location, the circle on the map is at least a couple of miles in diameter. But it’s covering an area I’m familiar with, just north of Troy, and bisecting the circle I can clearly make out Waterfront Road, where Tracy Elliston lives.

Annoyed, I immediately dial Ben Vallard, who answers on the third ring. I don’t give him a chance to say anything.

“This was a waste of a good favor,” I launch in on him, while texting him the image Shane sent me. “Her cell phone is still at the trailer.”

“No, it’s not.”

His quick and confident response throws me for a minute.

“How would you know that? Ben…were you in her trailer?”

It might be different if she was reported as a missing person, but she isn’t, and for him to gain access to her trailer without cause could get him into big trouble.

“It doesn’t matter. Her phone is not there,” he insists.

“Look at the screenshot I sent you.”

Some rustling can be heard on the other end, followed by a muffled curse.

“Are you still sure?” I prompt him.

“Yes. It’s not in her trailer,” he confirms.

All kinds of different scenarios play through my mind. She could have dropped it, but it’s hard to believe she wouldn’t have discovered that quickly and returned. Unless, of course, she dropped it but wasn’t able to return. Because someone was restraining her, or worse, she was injured or dead.

I shake my head to stop my mind from running away from me. I need to stick to the facts and her phone may be a source of information, if I can get my hands on it.

“We have to look for it.”

“It’ll have to wait until I get back this afternoon. I’m in Eureka, running down a lead.”

I don’t want to wait around. Tracy’s been missing for days already, if she was in any way hurt, we may well be too late already, but I’m not about to take that chance.

“Fine,” I tell Ben, already shoving my feet into a pair of runners.

I’ll deal with the fallout later.

I’d almost forgotten about Alex, who gets to her feet when she sees the keys dangling from my hand as I step outside.

“Is everything okay?”

I realize I’m being pretty rude, running out on Alex when I’m the one who invited her to stay in the first place. She deserves an explanation.

“I’m so sorry. I have to run out to Troy. I have to check on someone. She may be in trouble.”

She puts a hand on my forearm.

“Alone?”

I plaster a reassuring smile on my face.

“I’m an FBI agent, I’ll be fine.”

“Are you armed?”

Unfortunately, the fire destroyed my Glock. I guess I could lie, but this is Jackson’s mother.

“I’ve been well-trained in hand-to-hand combat. I can hold my own,” I attempt to placate her.

Her face sets in a stubborn expression I vaguely remember my mom wearing from time to time.

“I’m sure you can, but I’d feel a whole lot better if you were armed. Come with me, you can have your pick from what’s in the gun safe in the office.”

I’m not going to say no to that. I’m quite confident in my abilities to at least make it difficult for someone to overpower me, if it came to that, but it’s nice to have the security of a weapon when you don’t know what you’re walking into.

I follow her to the ranch house, where she unlocks the large safe for me. I select a Smith my son would disown me if I let anything happen to the woman he loves.”

I glance at her with my mouth open.

Love? Whoa. That word hasn’t come up, it’s way too soon for feelings that big.

Isn’t it?

He’d be moving pretty fast, but that shouldn’t surprise me.

Not from a man who earned the nickname, High Velocity.

Yikes.

* * *

Jackson

I can’t wait to take this damn fake leg off and hop in the shower.

I’m grimy, sweaty, and I probably reek to high heaven, and despite the new sleeve, my stump feels like rare hamburger at the moment.

Thirty-six hours is a long time to be wrapped in silicone without air circulation, especially inside my old prosthesis. Sitting in the saddle for a day and a half, the edge of the socket rubbed the inside of my thigh raw. I’d be surprised if I didn’t break the skin.

But, all complaining aside, we did manage to get one hiker out before the animals could get at him, and were able to keep his friend alive long enough to get him down the mountain and in the hands of medical professionals. Obviously, it would’ve been nice to rescue them both, but one is better than none.

“You’re limping,” Jonas observes when I round the back of the trailer to help unload the horses.

We’re back at the barn, and I’m eager to get the horses looked after so I can call it a day.

“I’m fine.” I rap my knuckles on the rigid socket. “This old thing was made for walking, not riding.”

Unlike my newer model, which was designed for a variety of physical activities.

“How long before they fix the other one?”

“I’m hoping a week or so. They’ll call me when it’s done.”

Jonas nods as he unlatches the trailer gate and I help him lower it. Then he turns to me.

“Go home, have a shower, you’re bleeding.”

He points at my jeans where I notice a stain forming on the inner part of my thigh. Wonderful .

As I turn to head to my cabin, I pull my phone from my pocket. I’d left it powered off, since there was no signal up there anyway, but I want to check if Stephanie left me a message. I noticed her rental gone when we drove up.

Running a few errands. Hope to be back before you get there.

That was sent at a little before two, it’s coming up on four now. I send her a quick message back as I walk up to the front door.

Just got back. Hopping in the shower. See you soon.

Inside I strip down, remove my limb, and check the damage. It’s not bad, just rubbed raw and oozing. I take the sleeve into the shower to give it a good rinse. I think I’ll make do with crutches tonight, give my leg a rest. I don’t plan on going out anyway, other than perhaps the main house to grab some grub. I’m sure Ma has something cooking, Jonas said he gave her a heads-up we’d be home soon.

I stuff my dirty clothes straight in the washer before taking a nice leisurely shower. I’d half expected Stephanie to come in at some point, but when I come out of the bathroom fifteen minutes later, she still hasn’t returned. I check my phone again, but she hasn’t responded to my last message. I immediately dial her number, but after several rings, I get bumped to her mailbox. I don’t bother leaving a message.

I try not to get worried as I get dressed, but I find myself fitting my prosthesis back on after all. I’ll just head over to the ranch and check in with Ma, maybe she talked to Stephanie and knows where she may have gone.

Jonas is by himself in the kitchen, his phone to his ear and thunder in his eyes when they lock on me.

“Fucking pick up, Alex,” he growls before slamming his fist down on the counter.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing good,” he grumbles, brushing past me and marching to his office.

I follow to find him standing beside the gun safe, pointing at two empty spaces.

“I noticed them missing when I went to put my rifle away. Now why the hell would your mother take two handguns from the safe? Hell, the only reason she knows how to use them is because I made her practice.”

He throws his arms up in frustration. “Her wheels are here, where the hell could she’ve gone off to?”

“Stephanie is gone too, but so is her rental,” I volunteer, a tight ball forming in the pit of my stomach. “She left me a message saying she was running errands. Ma may have gone with her.”

“Yeah? And what fucking errands require them to be armed?”

The phone he’s still holding in his hand pings with an incoming message.

“It’s your Ma.”

I look over his shoulder to read along.

Can’t talk now. Stephanie may be in trouble.

“What the fuck is going on?” Jonas bursts out.

“Where are they?” I bark, and his thumbs immediately type out a single word.

Where?

My heart is pounding in my ears as we wait for a response. When it finally comes, it turns my blood cold.

North of the river in Troy. Old trailer. There were shots, I’m hiding.

“Tell her to stay put,” I snap at Jonas, snatching a rifle and a handgun from the safe. “I think I know where they are.”