Читать книгу Backfire - Elizabeth Goddard - Страница 13

THREE

The helicopter hovered above them.

David stood underneath the rescue basket that was used like a medical stretcher, watching as Jay was hoisted up and into the chopper. The rain was beginning to lash them again. Carefully securing Jay in the basket without complicating his injuries had been a difficult task and had required the SAR team and the expertise of the flight paramedics working together. David was also a paramedic, but he was tired and drained and had stepped back to let the fresh crew on duty do their jobs. However, Jay had wanted him there, holding his hand, making it a tight fit on the rocky terraced outcropping.

David said a silent prayer that Jay would fully recover. All things were possible with God. Like Jay being found to begin with. The helicopter swayed unsteadily in the wind, and lightning flashed. This was one of the most hazardous rescues he’d participated in.

And he hadn’t even been on call. He’d just happened upon the situation, or rather, Tracy had happened upon it. Her search-and-rescue dog had been the one to alert her, and David had heard the dog’s bark in the distance. He hadn’t even thought twice before he’d turned around and run back up the trail to find Tracy and Solomon.

Despite his severe and potentially lethal injuries, Jay would live—that much David believed to his core. The guy was a survivor and had a strong will to live. Once he had been lifted and secured, the helicopter carried him away on the flight of his life.

The adrenaline rush that had kept David going bled out of him, and he realized he was chilled to the bone in his rain-soaked running clothes, minus his T-shirt, of course. But there was one more mission David needed to complete. One more person he needed to see to. Tracy had never left his thoughts.

The SAR members that had helped with the extraction—David’s brothers, Cade and Adam, and their brother-in-law, Isaiah—had already climbed back to the trail. David followed them up, making his way slowly and meticulously in the rain, bringing the climbing ropes with him. When he’d come here for a quick run before the storm he could never have imagined this day would turn out this way.

When he finally reached the trail, David discovered Tracy had already gone. But what had he expected? For her to wait in the rain for him? Not to mention there was a would-be killer out there. Unless the police had caught the guy, no one was safe on the trail. Besides, why would she wait for David? It wasn’t as if they had ever been anything beyond acquaintances until today. And even now, David wasn’t sure they’d inched any closer to an actual friendship. That was why his disappointment surprised him. But on the other hand, he was glad she had gone.

The torrent had begun again. David didn’t bother to make conversation with Isaiah, Cade and his younger brother Adam. Instead they trudged their way toward the trailhead.

David tried to process everything they’d just been through, including Tracy’s reactions, which unsettled him in some way he couldn’t quite define. They just didn’t make sense. It was normal that she’d been shaken by the idea of an attempted murder, but there was more to it than that. David hadn’t been able to hear her conversation with Jay over the noise of the rain beating down on the tarp he’d held, but he was sure that whatever it was Jay had said had shaken Tracy. But what could it have been? David shrugged the question off. He wouldn’t be getting any answers to it out here.

Finally the rain let up again. David hoped it would stay that way until he was inside his truck with the heat on.

Isaiah stepped up next to him. “The police showed up and escorted Tracy and Heidi back. They were going to take Tracy’s statement about the fallen jogger and what she’d seen.”

“Are you saying they didn’t search the woods?” David asked. “Just took a statement?”

“I’ll talk to Terry and see what I find out,” Cade said.

Terry served on the Mountain Cove PD. He and Cade had been close since grade school, though Terry was a friend to all the Warren siblings. David would ask Tracy what she’d told the police, as well.

They made the trailhead where their vehicles were parked. Isaiah and Cade scrambled into Cade’s truck, Adam into his own vehicle, and David climbed into his shiny, brand-new, blue Ford Super Duty F-250 FX4 4x4. He loved his truck and was glad he’d special-ordered it, though that had required a wait. But if he’d been trying to fill the empty space inside with material goods, he knew he’d failed. For whatever reason, the incident this morning seemed to drive home his loneliness.

He waved at his brothers then turned on the ignition and the heat. Dripping wet, he shivered and stared out the window, recalling what had happened.

The fear he remembered from Tracy’s expression told him that something was terribly wrong.

Considering the way their brief encounter had affected him the first time he’d met her, David had made it his policy to steer clear, never involve himself with her. He shouldn’t get involved now, but he couldn’t stop thinking about her reaction. Couldn’t stop thinking about her. He wanted her to be safe, but he knew it went much deeper than that.

He was more confused than ever.

* * *

Finally at home, Tracy gave Solomon a much-needed bath and fed him. Then she took a hot shower to wash away the events of the day as well as the chill from her body, then put on a pot of coffee to brew. She needed to stop her shivering limbs. But as she slipped into her comfortable, warm sweats, she was still shaking. The real source of her trembling had nothing at all to do with getting chilled on the mountain.

No. Her trembling had everything to do with the strong possibility that Carlos Santino had somehow found her.

The tattoo that Jay had described was the tattoo worn by Santino and his gang members.

Fear crept over her again as she recalled Jay’s words.

“Numbers and a scorpion with flames on the wrist... I thought it was cool. Asked what the numbers—” Tracy knew what those numbers meant. She knew more about that particular tattoo than she’d ever wanted to. Every kind of gang—ethnic or otherwise, street gangs or prison gangs—had their coded tattoo system and tattoos symbolizing membership.

The scorpion and flames identified Santino’s gang, and the numbers identified how many kills. As that number grew, other tattoos would tell the story elsewhere on the body.

But Santino was supposed to be in a prison in California—over a thousand miles away. As far as she knew, no one in this region of Alaska had even heard of Carlos Santino or his gang...except for her.

How could that be a coincidence, especially when you threw in Jay’s attempted murder? Had he finally found her so he could pay her back for her testimony against him? He’d threatened her, warning that he would find her and kill her with his own hands. And that had sent her running.

Hiding.

There was only one thing to do next. Find out if Santino had escaped. Tracy dug through the drawers in the old rolltop desk that came with the cottage, her nervous fingers creating a mess of the contents and making it more difficult to find the card she needed. She should have memorized the number. But she’d wanted to put that part of her life as far behind her as possible. Find some normalcy.

Lord, why did this happen?

She huffed a laugh. She was asking Jay’s question now. She hoped they would both get answers.

There. She gripped the corner of the card at the very back of the drawer. Of course. Tracy slid it to the front and lifted it from the drawer. The insignia at the corner was a marshal’s badge similar to those worn in the Old West movies, only this one had an eagle embossed over the top of the badge. It read “US Department of Justice, United States Marshals Service.” Then “Jennifer Hanes, Deputy US Marshal” was printed beneath those words.

Jennifer would have handled Tracy’s transfer into the WITSEC program if Tracy had chosen to go that way. She had told Tracy to call her if she ever needed her.

Tracy’s hand shook so much, she couldn’t read the number. She placed the card on the desk. Though she dreaded the call she had to make, Jennifer would be able to give her answers. The problem was Tracy wasn’t sure she wanted to hear what the woman had to say. Still, she needed to know if Santino was still in prison or if he had escaped.

She moved around the cottage until she found a good signal and made the call. It went to voice mail and Tracy left a quick message. She didn’t detail what had happened; only asked if Santino was still in prison.

“Please call me back,” she said. “Something’s...happened.”

Tracy ended the call. She had thought she’d never talk to Jennifer again. She hadn’t imagined she would ever have to. Setting the phone on the desk, she admitted that she’d really just hoped and prayed she would never have to contact Jennifer again.

The call made, there wasn’t anything more Tracy could do until she heard back. She’d told the Mountain Cove police everything that had happened today. Everything except about her past and why she’d come to Mountain Cove. Telling them a killer could have followed her here when she was still considered relatively new to the community might make her look like a troublemaker. She’d been afraid to take that risk.

Though she’d lived here only a couple of years, Tracy loved Mountain Cove, and up until today, she had thought she’d found a place she could finally call home. She could never go back to live in Missouri, where her family lived, or Sacramento, where she’d worked as a newspaper editor and where she’d met Derrick. Where all her troubles had begun.

Of course, if Santino had actually come after her here, then she needed to tell the police everything so they would understand what they were up against. She wondered if other law-enforcement entities would get involved, too, swarming down on Mountain Cove. Then the community would wish they had never seen Tracy Murray.

At the moment all she needed was time to think things through. Then if she confirmed it really was Santino she would proceed according to plan, whatever that was. Unfortunately, she didn’t know where else she could go.

How could anyone have found her here?

In the old comfy chair by the fireplace, Tracy tugged her knees up to her chin and watched the flames. Even though it was summer, the evenings were cold enough in Mountain Cove, Alaska, to justify lighting the fire. Soaking in the warmth, she tried to calm her nerves. Until she received a return call from Jennifer she would be on edge, trying to figure out what to do next.

She lived rent-free with Solomon in a small cabin as part of her pay for working at Jewel of the Mountain Bed and Breakfast. The job and her living situation had fallen into place so easily after her arrival and had made her feel as though she was exactly where she was supposed to be. Finding Mountain Cove in the first place had been providential. It was the perfect place where she could hide as well as train Solomon for search and rescue. And it was so far off the beaten path, so distant from the world she’d known before, that she’d felt completely hidden and totally secure. But after the events of today, it didn’t appear to be far enough away to keep her safe. There was still a chance that her testimony, given years before, would get her killed.

She hadn’t been the only witness to Santino’s crimes, but the other guy had taken the get-a-new-life card and run with it straight into witness protection. He’d left everything behind to escape having to live his life in fear that Santino would come for him one day.

A knot grew in Tracy’s throat and lodged there. Had she made a mistake by choosing to stay out of the program, trying to keep from losing everyone else she loved? Hadn’t losing Derrick been enough? Had her decision backfired on her?

Though Tracy had feared for her life during Santino’s trial, and the potential retaliation should he be convicted, her biggest fear had been losing her family. Her father had refused to change his name and move the family to start a new life with her. He’d refused to be forced away from the life he loved, surrounded by lifelong friends and extended family. He’d refused to leave behind the oil business he’d built. That wasn’t something he could easily build up again elsewhere.

And Tracy had refused to leave her family behind—never seeing them again. Never making contact. That kind of price was too high for the added security of witness protection. It was as though she was the one being punished for doing the right thing.

Instead, Tracy had moved to Alaska, to a place that couldn’t even be approached by car. A person could reach Mountain Cove—in the Inside Passage of Southeast Alaska—only via floatplane or boat. Hiking in was out of the question.

And this way, she could still go see her family anytime she wanted, while protecting herself by being almost completely isolated from the rest of the world. Yes, in a way she had in fact run from her life and was in hiding after a fashion, but it wasn’t quite as severe as the other choice.

And it wasn’t quite as secure, either. As today had proved, there was still the chance that she could be found and her life could be put in danger again.

Tracy paced the room, rubbing her arms, forcing down the bile rising in her throat.

When would Jennifer call back? Tracy wanted to know Santino’s status. If she had internet she could search the news feeds and find out. Maybe. But she didn’t. Part of the allure of the Jewel of the Mountain Bed and Breakfast was that people were forced to enjoy nature—there wasn’t anything else to do, and that, according to Jewel Caraway, the owner and Tracy’s boss, made the place the perfect getaway.

Solomon rested by the fire, and Tracy crouched next to him, ran her fingers through his thick, golden fur. “You did well today.”

She leaned closer to him. He wasn’t a trained attack or guard dog, but she knew that Solomon would protect her better than just about anything else. Or anyone. He’d already proved that once, the night that Santino had burned down her house. The same night he’d burned Derrick’s house to silence him forever. Solomon had been able to save Tracy.

A growl erupted from Solomon and his ears perked up. In that moment he wasn’t the typical overfriendly golden retriever. No. Solomon was protective of Tracy and he sensed a possible threat. Tracy stood, her gaze flickering to the windows and the door. Fear corded around her throat.

But when she heard the telltale sound of someone approaching the front door, she ran her hand down Solomon’s back to reassure him. “Bad guys don’t knock.”

No. Bad guys push people off ledges. Burn down their homes while they’re sleeping. Find good people where they hide in order to kill them.