Читать книгу Hot Target - Elle James - Страница 11
ОглавлениеCaveman settled on the seat of the ATV and tipped his head toward the rear. “Hop on.”
Grace fitted her helmet on her head and buckled the strap beneath her chin. “Wouldn’t it make more sense for me to drive, since I know the way?”
“Actually, it does.” He grinned, scooted to the back of the seat and glanced toward her, raising his brows in challenge.
Still, Grace hesitated for a moment, gnawing on her bottom lip.
God, when she did that, Caveman’s groin clenched and he fought the urge to kiss that worried lip and suck it into his mouth. The woman probably had no clue how crazy she could make a man. And he was no exception.
Finally, she slid onto the seat in front of Caveman. “Hold on.” She thumbed the throttle and the four-wheeler leaped forward.
Caveman wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his chest to her back. Oh, yeah, this was much better than driving.
Grace aimed for the back gate to the pasture, blew through and followed a dirt road up into the hills, zigzagging through fields and gullies until she crossed a highway and ended up on the road leading to Khalig’s truck and trailer. Another truck and trailer stood beside the original, this one marked with the county sheriff logo. Sheriff Scott and Deputy Pierce were mounted on four-wheelers.
Grace nodded as she passed them, leading the way up the side of a mountain, the trail narrowing significantly. There was no way a full-size truck or even an SUV could navigate the trajectories. Barely wide enough for the four-wheeler, the path clung to the side of a bluff. The downhill side was so steep it might as well be considered a drop-off. Anyone who fell over the edge wouldn’t stop until they hit the bottom a hundred or more feet below.
Now not so sure he’d chosen the right position, Caveman wished he had control of steering the ATV. He tightened his arms around Grace’s slim waist, wondering if she had the strength to keep them both on the vehicle if they hit a really big bump.
Caveman vowed to be the driver on the way back down the mountain. In the meantime, he concentrated on leaning into the curves and staying on the ATV.
As they neared the top of a steep hill, Grace slowed and rolled to a stop. “This is where I tied off my horse.”
The sheriff and deputy pulled up beside them. Everyone dismounted.
Fighting the urge to drop to a prone position on the ground and kiss the earth, Caveman stood and pretended the ride up the treacherous trail hadn’t been a big deal at all. “You rode your horse down that trail?”
She nodded. “Normally, I take it slowly. But I had a gunman taking shots at me. I let Bear have his head. I have to admit, I wanted to close my eyes several times on the way down.”
The sheriff nodded toward the ridgeline. “Was that your vantage point?”
She nodded, but didn’t move toward the top. “The shooter was on the ridge to the north.”
Sheriff Scott and the deputy drew their weapons and climbed. As they neared the top, they dropped to their bellies and low-crawled the rest of the way. The sheriff lifted binoculars to his eyes.
Caveman stayed with Grace in case the shooter was watching for her.
A couple minutes later, Sheriff Scott waved. “All clear. Grace, I need you to show me what you were talking about.”
Grace frowned, scrambled up to the top and squatted beside the sheriff.
Caveman followed, his gaze taking in the valley below and the ridge to the north. Nothing moved and nothing stood out as not belonging.
Grace pointed to the opposite hilltop. “The shooter was over there.” Then she glanced down at the valley, her frown deepening. “The man he shot was in the valley just to the right of that pine.”
The sheriff raised his binoculars to his eyes again. “He’s not there.”
“What?” She held out her hand. “Let me see.”
Sheriff Scott handed her the binoculars. Grace adjusted them and stared down at the valley below. “I don’t understand. He was in that valley. Hell, his truck and trailer are still parked back at the road. Where could he have gone?” She handed the binoculars back to the sheriff. “Do you think he was only wounded and crawled beneath a bush or something?” She was on her feet and headed back to the ATV. “We need to get down there. If that man is still alive, he could be in a bad way.”
The sheriff hurried to catch up to her. “Grace, I want you to stay up here with Mr. Decker.”
She’d reached the ATV and had thrown her leg over the seat before she turned to stare at the sheriff. “Are you kidding? I left him once, when I could have saved him.”
The sheriff shook his head. “You don’t know that. You could have ended up a second victim, and nobody would have known where to find either one of you.” He touched her arm. “You did the right thing by coming straight to my office.”
When the lawman turned away, Grace captured his hand. “Sheriff, I need to know. I feel like I could have done something to stop that man from shooting the other guy. I know it’s irrational, but somehow I feel responsible.”
The way she stared at the sheriff with her soft gray eyes made Caveman want the sheriff to let her accompany him to the valley floor.
“You promise to stay back enough not to disturb what could potentially be a crime scene?” Sheriff Scott asked.
She held up her hand like she was swearing in front of a judge. “I promise.”
The sheriff shot a glance at Caveman. “Mr. Decker, will you keep an eye on her to make sure she’s safe?”
“I will,” Caveman said. He wanted to know what was in that valley as well, but if it meant leaving Grace alone on the ridge, he would have stayed with her.
“Fine. Come along, but stay back.” Sheriff Scott and the deputy climbed onto their four-wheelers and eased their way down a narrow path to the valley floor.
Caveman let Grace drive again, knowing she was better protected with his body wrapped around her than if she’d ridden on the back.
At the bottom of the hill, Grace parked the four-wheeler twenty yards from the pine tree she’d indicated. “We’ll see a lot more on foot than on an ATV.”
“True.” Caveman studied the surrounding area, careful to stay out of the way of the sheriff and his deputy.
“Grace,” the sheriff called out.
She and Caveman hurried over to where the sheriff squatted on his haunches, staring at the dirt. He pointed. “Is this the spot where he fell?”
Grace glanced around at the nearby tree and nodded. “I think so.”
The sheriff’s lips pressed together and he pointed at the ground. “This looks like dried blood.”
Caveman stared at the dark blotches, his belly tightening. He’d seen similar dark stains in the dust of an Afghanistan village where his brothers in arms had bled out.
“Got tire tracks here.” Deputy Pierce stared at the ground a few yards away.
The sheriff straightened and walked slowly toward the deputy. “And there’s a trail of blood leading toward the tracks.”
Caveman circled wide, studying the ground until he saw what he thought he might find. “More tracks over here.” The tracks led toward a hill. Without waiting for permission, Caveman climbed the hill, parallel to the tracks. As the ground grew rockier, the tracks became harder to follow. At that point, Caveman looked for disturbed pebbles, scraped rocks and anything that would indicate a heavy four-wheeler had passed that direction.
At the top of the hill, the slope leveled off briefly and then fell in a sheer two-hundred-foot drop-off to a boulder-strewn creek bed below. Caveman’s stomach tightened as he spotted what appeared to be the wreckage of an ATV. “I found the ATV.” He squinted. What was that next to the big boulder shaped like an anvil? He leaned over the edge a little farther and noticed what appeared to be a shoe...attached to a foot. “I’m sorry to say, but I think I found Mr. Khalig.”
Grace scrambled to the top of the hill and nearly pitched over the edge.
Caveman shot out his hand, stopping her short of following the pipeline inspector to a horrible death. “Oh, dear Lord.”
Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, Caveman pulled her against him.
She burrowed her face into his chest. “I should have stayed.”
“You couldn’t,” Caveman said. “You would have been shot.”
“I could have circled back,” she said, her voice quivering.
“On that trail?” Caveman shook his head. “No way. You did the right thing.”
Sheriff Scott appeared beside Caveman. “Mr. Decker’s right. You wouldn’t be alive if you’d stopped to help a man who could have been dead before he went over the edge.”
Grace lifted her head and stared at the sheriff through watery eyes. “What do you mean?”
“We noticed footprints and drag marks in the dirt back there,” Deputy Pierce said.
The sheriff nodded. “I suspect the killer came back, dragged the body onto the ATV and rode it up to the hill. Then he pushed it over the edge with Mr. Khalig still on it.” He glanced over at the deputy. “We’ll get the state rescue team in to recover the body. The coroner will conduct an autopsy. He’ll know whether the bullet killed him or the fall.”
“Is there anything we can do to help?” Grace asked.
Sheriff Scott nodded. “I’d like you to come in and sign a statement detailing what you saw and at what time.”
“Anything you need. I’ll be there.” Grace shivered. “I wish I’d seen the killer’s face.”
“I do, too.” The sheriff stared down at the creek bed. “Murder cases are seldom solved so easily.” He glanced across at Grace. “You might want to watch your back. If he thinks you could pick him out in a lineup, he might come after you.”
Grace shivered again. “We live in a small town.” Her gaze captured the sheriff’s. “There’s a good chance I might know him.”
“If the law isn’t knocking on his door within twenty-four hours,” Caveman said, “he might figure out that you didn’t see enough of him to turn him in.”
“In which case, he’d be smart to keep a low profile and leave you alone,” the sheriff added.
“Or not.” Grace sighed. “I can’t stay holed up in my house. I have work to do. I still haven’t found my wolf.”
“It might not be safe for you to be roaming the woods right now,” the sheriff said. “By yourself, you present an easy target with no witnesses.”
Grace’s shoulders squared. “I won’t let fear run my life. I ran today, and Mr. Khalig is dead because I did.”
Caveman shook his head. “No, Mr. Khalig is dead because someone shot him. Not because you didn’t stop that someone from shooting him. You are not responsible for that man’s death. You didn’t pull the trigger.” The words were an echo from his psychologist’s arsenal of phrases she’d used to help him through survivor’s guilt. Using them now with Grace helped him see the truth of them.
He hadn’t detonated the bomb that had killed his teammates, nor had he pulled the trigger on the AK-47s that had taken out more of his battle buddies. He couldn’t have done anything differently other than die in his teammates’ place by being the forward element at that exact moment. He couldn’t have known. It didn’t make it easier. Only time would help him accept the truth.
* * *
“THERE IS SOMETHING you could do for me,” the sheriff said.
Grace perked up. “Anything.” After all that had happened, she refused to be a victim. She wanted to help.
“Go back down, get in my service vehicle and let dispatch know to call in the mountain rescue crew. Johnny and I will stay and make sure the wolves don’t clean up before they get here.”
“Will do,” Grace said. “Do you need me to come back?”
“No. We can handle it from here. You should head home. And please consider lying low for a while until we’re sure the killer isn’t still gunning for you.”
“Okay,” Grace said. Though she had work to do, she now knew she wasn’t keen on being the target of a gunman. She’d give it at least a day for the man to realize she hadn’t seen him and couldn’t identify his face. “You’ll let me know what they find out about the man down there?”
“You bet,” Sherriff Scott said. “Thank you, Grace, for letting us know as soon as possible.”
But not soon enough to help Mr. Khalig. She turned and started back down the hill. Her feet slipped in the gravel and she would have fallen, but Caveman was right beside her and helped her get steady on her feet. He hooked her elbow and assisted her the rest of the way down the steep incline.
At the bottom, he turned her to face him. “Are you okay?”
She nodded. “I’m fine, just a little shaken. It’s not every day I witness a murder.”
His lips twisted. “How many murders have you witnessed?”
“Counting today?” She snorted. “One.” With a nod toward the ATV, she said, “You can drive. I’m not sure I can hold it steady.” She held up a hand, demonstrating how much it trembled.
“Thanks. I would rather navigate the downhill trail. Coming up was bad enough.” He climbed onto the ATV and scooted forward, allowing room for her to mount behind him.
At this point, Grace didn’t care that he was a stranger. The man had found her unconscious, sought help for her and then gone with her to show the sheriff where a murder had taken place. If he’d been the shooter, he’d have killed her by now and avoided the sheriff altogether.
She slipped onto the seat and held on to the metal rack bolted to the back of the machine, thinking it would be enough to keep her seated.
“You need to hold on around my waist,” Caveman advised. “It’s a lot different being on the back than holding on to the handlebars.”
“I’ll be okay,” she assured him.
Caveman shrugged, started the engine and eased his thumb onto the throttle.
The ATV leapt forward, nearly leaving Grace behind.
She swallowed a yelp, wrapped her arms around his waist and didn’t argue anymore as they traversed the downhill trail to the bottom.
When she’d been the target of the shooter, she hadn’t had time to worry about falling off her sure-footed horse. Now that she wasn’t in control of the ATV and was completely reliant on Caveman, she felt every bump and worried the next would be the one that would throw her over the edge. She tightened her hold around his middle, slightly reassured by the solid muscles beneath his shirt.
For a moment, she closed her eyes and inhaled the scent of pure male—a mix of aftershave and raw, outdoor sensuality. It calmed her.
Although she’d always valued her independence, she could appreciate having someone to lean on in this new and dangerous world she lived in. Before, she’d only had to worry about bears and wolves killing her. Now she had to worry about a man diabolical enough to hunt another man down like an animal.
By the time they finally reached the bottom and made their way back to the parked trucks, Grace’s body had adjusted to Caveman’s movements, making them seem like one person—riding the trails, absorbing every bump and leaning into every turn.
When the vehicles came into view, she pulled herself back to the task at hand.
Caveman stopped next to the sheriff’s truck and switched off the ATV’s engine.
Grace climbed off the back, the cool mountain air hitting her front where the heat generated by Caveman still clung to her. Shaking off the feeling of loss, she opened the passenger door of the sheriff’s vehicle, slid onto the front seat, grabbed the radio mic and pressed the button. “Hello.”
“This is dispatch, who am I talking to?”
“Grace Saunders. Sheriff Scott wanted me to relay a request for a mountain rescue team to be deployed to his location as soon as possible.”
“Could you provide a little detail to pass on to the team?” the dispatcher asked.
Grace inhaled and let out a long slow breath before responding. “There’s a man at the bottom of a deep drop-off.”
“Is he unconscious?”
The hollow feeling in her chest intensified. “We believe he’s dead. He’s not moving and he could be the victim of a gunshot wound.”
“Got it. I’ll relay the GPS coordinate and have the team sent out as soon as they can mobilize.”
“Thank you.” Grace hung the mic on the radio and climbed out of the sheriff’s SUV.
“Now what?” Caveman asked. He’d dismounted from the four-wheeler and stepped up beside the sheriff’s vehicle while she’d been talking on the radio.
She shrugged. “If you could take me back to my place, I have work to do.”
Caveman frowned. “When we get there, will you let me take you to the clinic to see a doctor?”
“I don’t need one.” Her head hurt and she was a little nauseated, but she wouldn’t admit it to him. “I’d rather stay home.”
“I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll take you home if you promise to let me take you from there to see a doctor.”
She sighed. “You’re not going to let it go, are you?”
He crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. “Nope.”
“And if I don’t agree, either I walk home—which I don’t mind, but I’m not in the mood—or I wait until the sheriff is done retrieving Mr. Khalig’s body.”
His lips twitched. “That about sums it up. See a doctor, walk home alone or wait for a very long time.” He raised his hands, palms up. “It’s a no-brainer to me.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I’ll walk.” She brushed past him and lengthened her stride, knowing she was too emotionally exhausted to make the long trek all the way back to her house, but too stubborn to let Caveman win the argument.
The ATV roared to life behind her and the crunch of gravel heralded its approach.
“You might also consider that by walking home, you put yourself up as an easy target for a man who has proven he can take a man down from a significant distance. Are you willing to be his next target?”
His words socked her in the gut. She stopped in her tracks and her lips pressed together in a hard line.
Damn. The man had a good point. “Fine.” She spun and slipped her leg over the back of the four-wheeler. “You can take me to my house. From there, I’ll take myself to the clinic.”
Caveman shook his head, refusing to engage the engine and send the ATV toward Grace’s house. “That’s not the deal. I take you home. Then I will take you to the clinic. When the doctor clears you to drive, you can take yourself anywhere you want to go.”
“Okay. We’ll do it your way.” She wrapped her arms loosely around his waist, unwilling to be caught up in the pheromones the man put off. “Can we go, already?”
“Now we can go.” He goosed the throttle. The ATV jumped, nearly unseating Grace.
She tightened her hold around Caveman’s waist and pressed her body against his as they bumped along the dirt road with more potholes than she remembered on the way out. Perhaps because she noticed them more this time because she wasn’t the one in control of the steering. Either way, she held on, her thighs tightly clamped around his hips and the seat.
By the time they arrived at her cottage, she could barely breathe—the fact having nothing to do with the actual ride so much as it did with the feel of the man’s body pressed against hers. She was almost disappointed when he brought the vehicle to a standstill next to her gate.
Grace climbed off and opened the gate. The distance between them helped her to get her head on straight and for her pulse to slow down to normal.
He followed her to her house. “We’ll take my truck. Grab your purse and whatever else you’ll need.”
When she opened her mouth to protest, he held up his hand.
“You promised.” He frowned and crossed his arms over his chest again. “Where I come from, a promise is sacred.”
Her brows met in the middle. “Where do you come from?”
His frown disappeared and he grinned. “Montana.”
Caveman started toward the house, Grace fell in step beside him. “Is that where you were before you arrived in Grizzly Pass?”
His grin slipped. “No.”
She shot a glance his direction. A shadow had descended on his face and he appeared to be ten years older.
“Where did you come from?”
He stared out at the mountains. “Bethesda, Maryland.”
There was so much she didn’t know about this man. “That’s a long way from Montana.”
“Yes, it is.” He stopped short of her porch. “I’ll be in my truck when you’re ready.” Before she could say more, he turned and strode toward the corner of her house.
For a moment, Grace allowed herself the pleasure of watching the way his butt twitched in his blue jeans. The man was pure male and so ruggedly handsome he took her breath away. What was he doing hanging around her? Since she was being forced to ride with him to the clinic, she’d drill him with questions until she was satisfied with the answers. For starters, why did he call himself Caveman? And what was the importance of Bethesda, Maryland, that had made him go from being relaxed and helpful to stiff and unapproachable?
Caveman disappeared around the corner.
Grace faced her house, fished her key from her pocket and climbed the stairs. She opened the screen door and held out the key, ready to fit it into the lock when she noticed something hanging on the handle. It rocked back and forth and then fell at her feet.
She jumped back, emitting a short, sharp scream, her heart thundering against her ribs. With her hand pressed to her chest, she squatted and stared at the item, a lead weight settling in the pit of her belly as she recognized the circular band with the rectangular plastic box affixed to it.
It was the radio collar for the wolf she’d been looking for earlier that day, and it was covered in blood.
