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CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Aidan swerved to avoid a pothole as he navigated the long narrow road to Mystic Lake. When he’d set out a few days ago down this road, he’d been pushing his truck as fast as it could go on his way to the hospital. This time, he took the road at a more sane speed, and was actually, for the first time in a long time, enjoying the gorgeous views of the mountains and trees as he went. And he was smiling.

It was as if he’d come out of a long dark tunnel where he’d been living since the day of the fire that so horribly injured his wife. Today, everything had turned around. The truth, the full truth, was out. And what had happened once all the key people knew that truth had blown him away.

The Larsens had been sad, but not entirely surprised to hear that Elly had essentially orchestrated her own death. And they forgave him for keeping the truth from them. More importantly, they forgave him for not manning up and helping Elly when she needed him the most. They were thankful he’d never taken on that burden and hoped he could finally move on and be happy.

The DA, after listening to the recording of Niall as a little boy saying what he’d done, conferred with Chief Dawson and others and they agreed not to press charges against Niall as long as he received extensive counseling to help him overcome the trauma of his past. And that his record remained clean for the next two years.

Then Garcia, the parole board member, had stated he would work with the rest of the board and the governor to pursue having Aidan’s record expunged and a full pardon and restoration of Aidan’s rights.

An emergency meeting had been held just an hour ago. When Aidan’s lawyer came out, he was grinning from ear to ear. He told Aidan that the governor and the parole board had heard enough today to immediately grant him an end to his parole. Everything else, expunging his record and spreading the news that he wasn’t guilty, would take time. But Aidan didn’t even care about all of that. What he cared about was that he was now free, truly free. He never had to face a probation officer again. And he could hunt with a gun in the future like anyone else, assuming he ever bought a gun. He was so used to hunting with a bow and arrow that he didn’t know if he’d ever favor any other weapon.

But the best gift of all today was that his son had been weaned out of the medically induced coma and finally opened his eyes. Aidan had agreed with the Larsens that he shouldn’t be there when it was done. Niall would need to be carefully updated on everything that had happened. It could take a while for him to let go of the hate and accept the truth. Until then, his adoptive parents and his court-appointed psychiatrist would help him. And one day, hopefully soon, a family reunion with Aidan would be in the cards.

He grinned and drove past Main Street, then slowed, frowning as he noted dark smoke in the sky far out of town, possibly near the marina. Whatever was happening, he hoped no one was hurt and that the fire was put out quickly.

Continuing on, he headed around back of the B and B, looking forward to talking to Grace and updating her about everything that had happened. Hell, he might even ask her on a date to celebrate. Wouldn’t that be something? To be with her and not worry about anyone’s opinions? After all, her boss had been in the meeting and agreed that Aidan was completely innocent. All of that time being so careful around her had been worth it. Her career was salvaged and now there was nothing standing in the way of expressing their intense attraction to each other. Heck, attraction was a paltry term and did nothing to describe the all-consuming need he had for her and vice versa. For the first time in years he was looking forward to his future. And more than anything, he wanted Grace Malone to be a part of that future.

If she would have him.

As he parked, he was disappointed that he didn’t see her rental SUV in the lot. The Larsens had told him that Grace was going to the B and B when she left. She must have stopped off somewhere else, maybe a store back in Chattanooga. Or maybe she was helping with whatever was going on down at the marina.

He parked and pulled out his phone to call Chief Dawson as he exited his truck.

“Hey, Aidan,” the chief said, sounding out of breath. “We’re kind of busy out here. What do you need?”

“The marina? Is that where the smoke’s coming from?”

“You guessed it. One of the boats blew up and is on fire. We’re helping the fire department move other boats nearby to try to keep the fire from spreading.”

“Injuries?”

“None, thank God. Sorry to be short, but why did you call?”

“Grace. I don’t see her SUV in the B and B parking lot—”

“Didn’t you hear? She doesn’t have that SUV anymore. Her boss turned it back in when he fired her.”

Aidan stopped by the last car in the lot. “What did you say? He fired her?”

“Oh, man. Sorry you heard it this way. She can explain when you see her.”

He didn’t need an explanation. The only reason Grace would have lost her job was him. He swore. “All right. Thanks. Do you happen to know what she’s driving now?”

“No idea. Gotta go. It’s all law enforcement hands on deck, all four of us.” He laughed. “Your lawyer informed me about your parole being canceled. Congratulations on how things worked out. Enjoy your freedom, Aidan. You deserve it.” The line clicked, ending the call.

Aidan’s earlier euphoria was gone. In its place was a simmering anger at both Grace’s boss and himself. He should have been more careful. Destroying her career was the last thing he’d wanted. He’d have to talk to his lawyer to see if there was something they could do to force the FBI to reinstate her. But right now he couldn’t imagine what that might be.

He headed into the B and B. After a brief stop to make sure that Stella knew he harbored no ill feelings toward her and appreciated her good intentions, he hurried upstairs and knocked on Grace’s door. After several knocks and several minutes of waiting, he jogged downstairs and sought out Stella again. But she hadn’t seen Grace.

One of the customers in the restaurant overheard them and said he was walking into the restaurant when he noticed Grace pulling up in the parking lot. As far as he knew, she’d never come inside, but she could have and he just didn’t notice.

“Do you remember which car was hers?” Aidan asked.

“Yeah, one of those smaller cars. A four-door, white. Toyota I think. I was surprised because she normally drives a big SUV.”

“Thanks.” Aidan strode outside to the parking lot. He remembered passing a white Toyota and easily found it again amid the trucks and Jeeps in the lot. An uneasy feeling tingled down his spine as he peered into her car. Nothing looked out of place. The car was locked and all of the windows were rolled up. It simply looked as if she’d parked and gone inside.

But she hadn’t.

So where was she?

He circled the car, looking for anything that might tell him what was going on. The small shoe prints outside the driver’s door looked to be about her size. She must have gotten out of the car. The prints went around the back of another car and then…other prints converged on hers. They were large, the size of a man probably as big as Aidan. And the prints trampled over the top of Grace’s. After that, the man’s prints deepened in the dirt and gravel. But there were no more prints from Grace.

To anyone else, what had happened here might not be obvious. But to Aidan, who’d been tracking game almost daily for well over a year now, they were a glaring neon sign telling him something had happened to Grace. Something bad.

The car where her prints ended didn’t appear to be the car that was parked here now. This car was a large SUV and was parked on some of those prints, which meant they were there before the SUV pulled in. So the man who’d scuffled with Grace had taken off in his own car. And Aidan didn’t doubt for a minute that he’d taken Grace with him, against her will.

A bead of sweat rolled down his back in spite of the chill in the air as he whipped out his phone and called Dawson again. He walked back to Grace’s car and slowly circled it, looking for other clues.

“Aidan,” Dawson said, “I can’t talk right now. I’m trying to dock a boat that—”

“It’s Grace. She’s been abducted.”

“What the… Are you sure? Tell me what happened.”

Aidan explained the situation, the clues as he continued to slowly inspect the ground around her car. When he reached the right front tire, he bellowed in fury. “He’s got her, Dawson. That animal has her.”

“Who? Calm down. Tell me what’s going on.”

Aidan bent down to inspect the arrow sticking out of Grace’s tire, an arrow with a large white feather hanging from the end.

“The Crossbow Killer. The real one. He’s here, in Mystic Lake. And he’s got Grace.”

Dawson swore viciously. “How much do you want to bet the fire at the marina was his doing, a diversion?” He yelled for Fletcher and Collier, shouting commands as he transferred responsibility for the marina scene to Ortiz to continue working with the firefighters.

Aidan followed the clues from the other car left in the gravel and noted the direction it had taken. Then he ran to his truck and jumped in.

“All right,” Dawson said. “We’re heading to our cars now. We’ll meet you at the B and B and—”

“Forget the B and B.” He raced his truck out of the parking lot, slowing to determine which way the other vehicle’s distinctive tire tracks had gone. Then he made the turn and gunned the engine.

“Wait, why?” Dawson demanded. “Talk to me.”

“He’s in a Jeep, older model, four-wheel drive. I don’t know the color. I’m judging by the tracks, the width of the wheel base. The tires are muddy. The tracks are fresh, so I’ve got something to follow. They’re running parallel with the lake so far, heading out of town.”

Dawson shouted orders over his radio to the others. “Older model Jeep heading northwest, parallel with the lake. Be on the lookout.”

“Trace her phone, Dawson. See if you can get a bead on it. I don’t want to call it in case the ringer is on and it alerts the guy, assuming she even has it at this point. He may have tossed it.”

“Will do.” He spoke into his radio to Fletcher, telling her to put a trace on Malone’s phone. “And contact the FBI. Even if they don’t give a damn about their own agent anymore, they should at least want to get their butts up here to help us find that killer they’re all hot and bothered about.”

Aidan suddenly slammed his brakes, fishtailing across the gravel road. He engaged the four-wheel drive on his truck and quickly backed up. Then he turned where the Jeep had turned and slowed to look for more signs of it passing this way.

“Give me an update, O’Brien. I’m four minutes out. Where am I going?”

“Old logging trail. He’s heading up the mountain.”

“By Jesper’s hunting cabin, the one that’s falling down?”

“That’s the one. Wait. Ah, hell.” He slammed his brakes again and slid to a halt, then leaped from his truck.

“What, O’Brien? Talk to me.”

“The Jeep. I found it. Empty. He ditched it, a quarter mile up the road.” Aidan ran back to his truck and flipped the seat forward. He pulled out his bow and an arrow and strapped the quiver of extra arrows over his neck and shoulder to let it hang out of the way. Squatting down, he searched the dirt until he picked up two sets of shoe prints leading deeper into the trees. “I’ve got their trail. Heading almost due west up the mountain through the woods. I’ll mark an X in the dirt to help you find it, about ten feet off the right side of the road. I’m hanging up now, but you can do something fancy to track my cell to keep up with me.”

“No, Aidan. Stay on the line. Wait for us. We’ll be there in less than three minutes, coming in hot.”

“To hell with that. Every minute she’s alone with him is one minute too long.”

“What are you going to do? You don’t even have a gun.”

He notched an arrow in his bow. “I’m hunting the Crossbow Killer.”