Page 48 of Unexpected Danger (Mountain Justice #2)

Brodie’s head ached in a way it never had before.

He moaned and attempted to roll over. The first time, he failed and fell back onto his chest. He persevered, gathering what momentum he could, and finally rolled onto his back.

His eyes fluttered open. What had happened?

Where was Londyn? With effort, he propped himself up on his elbow and glanced at his truck in the area near the lake.

Hadn’t he unloaded the canoe? Where was it?

He reached a hand to his holster. His gun was gone.

He moved a little too quickly, and the stabbing pain in the back of his neck added to the pounding in his head. If Londyn was gone, the canoe was gone, and his gun was gone, it could only mean one thing.

Slowly, with extreme effort, Brodie recalled a few details. They had unloaded the canoe, Londyn had walked up the hill to the vault restroom, and then everything had gone black.

He reached a hand to the back of his head. Something crusty greeted his fingertips, and the touch exacerbated the pain.

There wasn’t time to lounge beneath the pines and contemplate the details. If Londyn had returned yet from the restroom and he’d been whacked over the head, Brodie could only deduce one thing.

Londyn was in trouble.

A sizable granite boulder beside him offered the perfect crutch. He slowly sat up and rested first an arm, then a hand on the boulder, and, with his legs wobbling, struggled to his feet. Where had Dustin taken her?

Brodie took a step forward, and he fought the dizziness and blinked several times before holding a hand to shield his eyes as he scanned the entire area around the lake as far as he could see.

On the second glance, he spotted the canoe in the distance at the very edge of where the lake detoured into the river. He squinted, noticing two figures in the canoe.

Adrenaline pumped through him. He scanned the road, the lake, and the many hiking trails leading up the hill. The entire area was a ghost town. His legs arguing the entire way, he stumbled to his truck, opened the door, and retrieved his phone.

No signal.

Lord, please give me the ability to find Londyn, and please keep her safe.

Woozy throbbing added to his splitting headache, the pulsating causing Brodie to grip his head and scrunch his shoulders upward.

He had no time for this.

But how would he get to the canoe? How would he rescue Londyn?

He forced himself through the pines that ran adjacent to the lake, attempting to again catch sight of the boat. He limped, wondering why his legs felt so weak when it had been his head that had been whacked.

He claimed a better view of the canoe, and Haack pivoted. Could he see Brodie?

Brodie ducked and hid to the side of the tree, wishing for the first time in his life that he had sloping shoulders. There was no shouting, yelling, or any other indication that Haack had seen him.

Brodie breathed a prayer of gratitude.

As a law enforcement officer, Brodie had found himself in many volatile situations.

As his dad always said, a sheriff’s main duties were, of course, to uphold the Constitution, but also to serve papers and tend to the jail.

Dad’s final comment on the matter rang through Brodie's ears. Catching the criminals was a bonus.

Only this time, he wasn’t only trying to catch the bad guy. He was endeavoring to save the life of the woman he loved.

A downed tree in his path cost him precious seconds as Brodie veered around it. There was no way he could keep up with as fast as Haack rowed down the river, a river whose waters were flowing in just the perfect direction to accelerate the stalker’s travel.

But Brodie would give it his all.

He tripped over a hole and crashed to the ground. The pain reverberated through his head, reminding him of his likely concussion.

Stunned, Brodie attempted to gather his wits before again checking his phone to see if he had service yet. He didn’t. He knew that getting a signal in the Pronghorn Mountains was nearly impossible, but there were spots where one bar occasionally occurred.

He could still see the canoe, and if he hurried, he could bridge the distance between himself and Londyn.

If he hurried. Who was he kidding?

But he’d never been the type to quit. Using a nearby tree stump, Brodie pulled himself to his feet and did the best to ignore the pain in nearly every part of his body.

He’d been in worse scrapes in his time in law enforcement, not to mention when he was a kid and he and his brothers would manage to engage in all sorts of shenanigans.

He hobbled along much slower than he’d like.

A tree branch slapped him hard in the face as he slithered through a tight area.

The landscape turned hilly with an incline toward the river.

He wished he knew where Haack was taking Londyn, and he wished he had service to call for backup.

Brodie refused to give thought to Dustin Haack’s endgame motive.

The man was as depraved as they came. A charmer.

A manipulator. Unpredictable. Tactical. Vindictive.

Devious. Cruel. Obsessed. Lacking a conscience.

The list could go on, and Brodie was far from a psychiatrist, but the character traits of this dangerous man urged Brodie to persevere no matter what it took or how much the pain in his head argued.

Surely at some point, Haack would be stopped.

The pines thickened, and swarms of bugs buzzed in front of him.

The occasional chipmunk or squirrel crossed his path, and he’d already spotted several deer, an elk, and a moose in the distant meadow.

One would think Brodie was out of shape with the way his breath came in gasps as he climbed up one side of the hill, then nearly slid down the other.

The boat stopped, and Brodie hid behind a thick-trunked tree.

Haack dragged the canoe to the shore. Brodie stayed hidden as he watched Haack roughly pull Londyn to her feet and shove her out of the canoe. She nearly tripped, and he grabbed her arm to right her. It was obvious her hands and feet were bound.

Brodie fisted his hands at his sides, and his body tensed.

The sooner he extricated Londyn from Haack’s grasp, the better.

He weaved in and out of the trees as he attempted to draw closer.

Fortunately, with her feet bound, Londyn was taking small, deliberate steps.

Haack held a gun on her, which would be the biggest deterrent to overcome.

He detested hostage situations.

Stopping periodically and maintaining his cover, Brodie continued along through the web of trees.

Thankfully, he was on the same side of the river as Londyn and Dustin.

If he hadn’t been, there would be no way he would have been able to swim over to the other side without extreme difficulty.

The rushing spring waters and his own injuries would have precluded him from being successful at that endeavor.

A pinecone Brodie hadn’t noticed crunched beneath his shoe.

Haack swiveled in Brodie’s direction. His head jerked up, and he aimed the gun at Brodie. The bullet ricocheted off a nearby tree. Brodie ducked and sought cover as more shots were fired.

“Don’t come any closer,” Haack yelled.

Brodie’s heart pounded in his chest. He needed a weapon, but more importantly, he needed a plan. Terror stabbed at his heart. He needed to devise a strategy to rescue Londyn with no interference.

Please, God.

Dustin Haack continued to haphazardly waste bullets. Brodie sat with his back to the rocks, allowing him better cover and protection.

He fished his phone from his back pocket.

There were no bars, but there was a possibility he could still call 911 even without service because his phone would search for the nearest cell tower and send the signal there.

And he knew there were cell towers nearby.

Except, he’d be unable to speak with Haack so close.

Haack paused his target practice. Good. Maybe he depleted his bullets.

But that wouldn’t stop him from hunting down Brodie’s location.

Brodie peered around the corner, keeping himself as compressed against the mound of rocks as possible.

Haack walked in the opposite direction, checking behind trees.

Brodie pressed the SOS emergency feature on his phone just as the boom of another gunshot echoed. He then texted a message as well, doubling his efforts. Sheriff Brenneman, emergency situation, Pronghorn Lake. Send help asap.

Haack’s thundering voice boomed. “I will find you. You can’t hide forever.” Haack stomped, his actions more befitting of a toddler than a man in his thirties.

Brodie muted his phone’s volume and stuffed his device into his pocket.

A peek through a crevice between two rocks indicated Haack was now stationary and standing beside a bound Londyn, his gun aimed in Brodie’s direction.

How many bullets would the man squander on him?

Would he turn the weapon on Londyn? Haack shouted again, his words laced with anger and profanity.

Brodie would buy his time until Haack finished and had either spent all the bullets or had given up, figuring he’d already hit Brodie. In which case…

When the next bullet whizzed past him, Brodie released a muffled yell and pounded the ground as if he’d toppled over.

“I told you to stay away! You finally got what you deserved,” Haack shouted.

Brodie tarried behind the rock formation.

It was a win-win situation for him. Either Haack would figure he was mortally wounded and go about his business while Brodie watched from a distance.

Or, if Haack instead decided to investigate whether Brodie had been fatally shot, he would leave Londyn where she was and come searching for Brodie.

In which instance, Brodie would launch a surprise attack on his adversary.