Page 6 of Manhunt in the Narrows (Red Rock Murders #1)

The injury wasn’t just trying to eat through his thigh anymore.

It’d caught fire.

Ranger Green slapped a clean bandage over the wound, following it up with a couple pats around the edges. Something told him she’d left the alcohol pads on a little too long for a reason. In punishment. “You’re done.”

“Thanks.” Elias tried to fold the solar blanket back into the neat little square it had come in, but it was no use. So he crumpled it in one hand and made quick work of pulling his jeans back into place, then offered it to her.

“You keep it.” She repacked her first aid kit and pocketed the latex gloves she’d donned. Pack it in, pack it out. The kit went in next. Seemed everything in her pack had a place, and she wasn’t the type of woman to break that habit. “I have another.”

Their hot and cold back-and-forth was giving him whiplash. One minute she offered to dress his wound, the next she couldn’t even seem to look at him. Like he’d offended her.

The rain’s assault had lightened up over the past few minutes, but the river was still too angry for them to get back in it. The only consolation in losing the limited time they had to catch up with their killer was the bastard was just as stuck as they were.

The bandage pulled at the hairs along his thigh as he took his seat again.

His knee knocked into hers, and he couldn’t help the change in her body language.

Too rigid. It only lasted a second, but while his career had taken a nosedive the past couple of months, he hadn’t lost his observational skills.

Pulling a yellow deck-size box from her pack, she thumbed through a stack of playing cards.

But they didn’t look like any normal playing cards he’d seen at the countless convenience stores he and Grant had visited over the past few weeks on the road.

No face cards or icons but numbers, bullet points and short paragraphs instead.

The pack was color-coded. Blue diamonds, purple spades, red hearts and green clubs with a few black edges for jokers.

They each seemed to mean something significant.

“What’s your poison? I’m really good at go fish. ”

Elias grabbed the deck from her hands and shuffled through it over his crossed boots. “I tell you I got a witness killed, and you want to play cards?”

“I figured if you wanted to offer the information, you would.” A slow rise and fall of her shoulders tried to convince him of her casualness.

It was all a lie, though. This woman was anything but casual out here in her element.

Constantly aware of her surroundings, scanning the river every few minutes as if looking for something specific.

Maybe a body? Always on guard. Especially around him.

“It’s none of my business why you’re here.

Just my job to make sure you get out of this canyon. ”

He kind of liked that. Someone with enough self-awareness to know when to push and when to pull. Why exhaust yourself trying to decipher someone else’s moods when putting the responsibility on them to communicate saved everyone time and frustration? He needed more of that in his life. “Fair point.”

Elias studied the cards before handing off ten to her.

Flipping over the bright yellow-and-orange box they’d come in—thicker than a normal deck—he absorbed the oversize lettering on the front.

“The don’t die out there deck. Survival tips?

Figured you rangers were above resorting to tourist souvenirs for guidance. ”

“Funny.” She took the cards with a little too much force. “I brought them for you, Agent Broyles.”

Ouch. Well, he’d walked right into that one.

He’d yet to deal his own set of ten for their game—because who the hell actually knew when they were getting off this rock?

—and read the first card in his stack. “If you are lost. Keep your cool. Don’t panic.

Take a break for food and water. Use your map.

That’s some great advice. For a five-year-old. ”

“Why do you think I brought them for you?” Ranger Green reshuffled her cards with a wide sardonic smile.

Hell, the look fit her perfectly. A little wild and a whole lot daring.

Most people had a healthy avoidance of law enforcement.

Not overly obvious. Just wary. Like when their nerves get the best of them during a routine traffic stop.

She wasn’t one of those people. No. Instead, she carried something heavier.

“I see how it is.” Elias dealt the cards with the rest of the deck positioned between them. “All right. You want to play, Ranger Green, we’ll play. Best of this hand, and when I win, you have to tell me why you don’t like me.”

Her smile slipped. Barely enough to convince him he hadn’t really seen the change. “And if I win?”

“What do you want?” He was far more interested in her answer than he should be. What did a woman like Sayles Green want more than anything? And why the hell did he care?

“If I win, you aren’t allowed to speak for the next hour.” Those intense green eyes brightened at the idea.

“Wow,” he said. “You could’ve asked for anything, and that’s what you’re going with?”

“I like my quiet time.” She slipped one card free and slid it toward the back of her hand. “It’s why I come out here so often, away from everybody else. When I’m not on the trails, it’s easier to believe the world isn’t as cruel as I remember it being.”

The rush of the river filled the silence between them.

Elias shifted his position on the rock beneath them, a very sharp edge working its way into all the wrong places. “All right. Do you have any fives?”

She was forced to give up two cards. And over the next few minutes, his pile grew while hers dwindled. Until he’d collected everything he’d needed to win.

A hint of annoyance flashed in her expression as the outcome took shape. It was a good look on her. The doubt. He wouldn’t mind seeing it a few more times before this manhunt was over.

Ranger Green tossed the rest of her cards onto the middle deck. “You cheated.”

“I’m not sure it’s possible to cheat at go fish.” It was, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. “Maybe you’re just really bad at it. Either way, deal’s a deal.”

The hard set to her jaw warned him she might back out, but sooner or later, he would figure out why she’d rather throw herself into that raging river than sit here with him for one more minute.

“My ex-husband is a federal agent. FBI, same as you. He worked mostly serial homicide cases. I told you before things didn’t end well.

It’s childish and immature of me to assume you’re like him, but I’ve spent the better part of the past five months avoiding anything and anyone who reminds me of him. ”

That, he hadn’t expected. Elias busied his hands by reshuffling the deck, processing what little she’d given him. He could let her offer more information—as she had concerning his latest admission—but curiosity got the better of him. “That’s why you’re familiar with case terminology and protocols?”

“No.” Her voice shook on that single word. “That came later.”

“What’d he do to make you want to divorce him?” he asked.

She didn’t answer right away, but they had all the time in the world on this rock. “What makes you think he wasn’t the one to leave me?”

“Because you’re the one in hiding.” He didn’t miss the slight widening of her eyes. The mask she wore was good. Probably forged over the years she’d been married. But experience had given him the tools to break through the thickest of lies.

Her breath shook from her. If the temperature had been a few degrees cooler, he was sure he would see crystallized puffs around her mouth. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not going to give him the chance to do it again.”

That didn’t sit well. Elias wasn’t sure why, other than an undercurrent of blame that shadowed her words.

In his career, he’d met a lot of bad guys.

Except sometimes those bad guys convinced everyone around them they were actually good.

Had badges and federal credentials and the respect of neighbors, partners and family.

He dealt her another ten cards. He’d play as many rounds as it took to bring back that smile from earlier.

“Whatever he did, it wasn’t your fault.”

“You don’t know that.” She ignored the hand he’d offered, those pretty eyes on him. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know you’re running. I know while you do everything you can to convince people otherwise, you’re probably scared.

” He’d seen it enough times during his tenure with the FBI.

Hell, even before that. As much as he didn’t like to think of his childhood, there’d been days he’d blamed himself for earning that disappointed look on his mother’s face.

It wasn’t that he’d done anything wrong—he knew that now.

He’d simply existed, and she couldn’t find a way to get rid of him that didn’t have her ending up behind bars.

If he’d just been good enough, done his homework better, cleaned the house instead of going to his friend’s house, maybe—maybe—she could’ve loved him.

It’d taken years for him to realize he’d deserved more than that permanent scowl on her face any time she looked at him.

“Anyone who uproots their lives to move to the middle of nowhere and tells themselves the world can’t possibly be as cruel as they remember isn’t to blame for what happened to them. They’re a victim.”

She didn’t seem to have any response to that. At least not for a few minutes as they quietly exchanged cards in another round of go fish. “The witness you said you got killed. Do you blame yourself for that?”

“Yes.” There was no point in denying it.

He could practically feel the stain of guilt on his skin.

Surprised she couldn’t feel it, too, when she’d bandaged his thigh.

Elias threw down a card to hand over. “She was a kid, really. No older than twenty-one. A corner boy got shot one night, had his whole stash stolen right out from under him. Problem was, it wasn’t his stash.

It belonged to the cartel he was running for.

Girl had been at the bodega behind him, working the late shift so she could attend classes during the day.

Saw the whole thing, could identify the car he drove off in.

Smart girl. Had her whole life going for her.

My superiors wanted me to let her go. Said we had better ways of getting to the cartel, but I had this feeling she could get us what we needed.

She was scared. She was worried the shooter would come back and kill her if she said anything, but I kept pushing.

Finally, she agreed. I got her to come in and identify the shooter.

Next thing I know, she’s the one laid out on the sidewalk. Bullet holes in her chest.”

Talking about it didn’t do a damn bit of good.

No matter how many times he’d told this story, the nightmares wouldn’t stop.

His hand shook as he discarded the next card.

“I pushed her into identifying the killer against my superiors’ orders, and the bastard came back to make sure she’d never see court.

My mistake lost the FBI the element of surprise.

The cartel packed up and vanished, and the man who put a bullet in her disappeared with them. Along with my career.”

A hand landed on top of his cards, pulling his attention to Ranger Green’s softened expression. No longer guarded by the mask she worked to keep in place. “If you didn’t feel guilty, you wouldn’t be trying to be better. That’s what mistakes are for. To show us what to do next.”

His throat worked to argue, but there wasn’t anything he could say now that would change the outcome.

The touch was too brief as she extracted her hand, taking the playing cards with her. She repacked and shoved to stand. “The flash flood is over. It’s time to move.”