Edge of the Enforcer

Chapter Nineteen

The next day, Lindsey stepped out of the cabin into a quiet realm filled with glittering falling snow. The untouched white powder carpeted the ground, making the world seem fresh and clean. The air was so cold, her lungs seemed to clench.

After a long stretch, she started down the path to the main cabin. Heck of a night, last night. First the dungeon party, afterward the hot tub.

She still had tender spots—especially her bottom. However, poor Dixon might be even worse off.

Before they’d left the dungeon, Stan had removed all the various devices from Dixon’s body and blindfolded him, stood him in the middle of the room while he went to the fridge. He’d brought back an icy ridged dildo, bent Dixon over, and shoved it up his ass. Dixon had come, screaming as if he was being murdered.

It was a wonder he hadn’t had a heart attack.

After slapping his ass, Stan had hugged him lightly and said the scene was over. “You can join me in the hot tub if you want, boy.” Dixon had spent the entire time staring at the Dom, undoubtedly trying to understand why the man hadn’t even tried to get off. Stan had retired soon afterward, leaving Dixon looking confused—and forlorn.

Poor Dix.

While Lindsey walked, snowflakes tickled her cheeks and hung on her eyelashes. From the looks of it, snow had been falling all morning. And she’d sure slept late, which was Zander’s fault. He’d worn her out.

Around dawn, he’d noticed her new virginal-slut nightgown and woken her up to show his energetic appreciation. God. Three orgasms later… When he finished, he’d gotten dressed, leaving her facedown and boneless in the bed.

As she crossed the clearing to the lodge, the door opened. Jake, one bare foot raised, supported by Simon and Zander, hopped out. “Morning, Lindsey.”

“What happened? Are you okay?”

“I slipped on a fuc—ah, a rock when I was checking the hot tub.”

She frowned at his very swollen, purpling ankle. “Is it broken?”

“Probably not,” Simon said. “We’ll get it X-rayed to be sure.”

“We’re hauling his ass to the clinic in town,” Zander said before his jaw hardened. “I’m keeping Simon’s car and stopping at the police station after. Seems Stanfeld took off to talk with Masterson.”

“Hokay.” Sounded like Stan was going to get a teamwork lecture. Lindsey smiled, amazed at how the mere sight of Zander lifted her heart. Well, aside from the fact a bulky jacket made him look as if he could wrestle grizzly bears. Be still my heart. “Y’all drive safe, okay?”

Jake nodded. Simon winked at her. Zander gave her a macho man snort.

Right. How could she forget that alpha male Enforcers simply laughed at snow?

After watching them navigate the slick ground, she crossed the porch and read the sign posted on the lodge door. LUNCH WILL BE LATE TODAY. BECCA.

Inside, the main room was quiet, with only Logan present. He was sweeping the fireplace hearth, treating the sleeping dog as if Thor were a piece of furniture. “Morning, sugar.”

“Good morning to you. Is Becca around?”

“Nope.” He nodded at the snow plastering the glass window. “It’s getting nasty out there. When the blizzard really hits, we might get over a foot of snow, so Becca drove into town for groceries. She and Ansel should be back soon.”

“Kallie?”

“At the Masterson place. Her cousins haven’t returned from a guide trip, so she’s over there feeding the livestock. Rona and Dixon went along with her to visit Summer.”

“Oh. Right.” Rona had invited her, but Lindsey didn’t know Summer very well. Sometimes old friends needed time to catch up on gossip. “I guess the place is pretty empty. Did your other guests flee in the face of the storm?”

“We’re emptying out. One man and an older couple left early—they didn’t want to chance the road closing. Stanfeld’ll be here another day. He went into town to talk with Virgil Masterson. Got one cabin rented out through Sunday, but I haven’t seen him this morning. Don’t know if he’ll stay or not.”

“Since you’ve been abandoned by your staff, is there anything I can do to help?”

His rare smile was her reward. “If you’d answer the phone while I clean and restock a couple of cabins, I’d appreciate it. Be about an hour or so.”

“Let me grab a cup of coffee, and I’m your girl.”

Time went by in a lovely quiet as she drank her coffee and flipped through old Field & Stream magazines. Outside the lodge, the wind picked up, spattering the windows with snow, covering the world in white. With a sigh, she leaned back in the comfortable chair.

She’d had a harsh few months, but now peace wrapped around her like the warmth from the crackling fire. There was an end in sight. Someday soon, she might have her life back.

Or a better life, even.

He loves me. Smiling, she said it aloud, just to hear the unbelievable words. “He loves me.” She’d never dreamed to hope for that—not with Zander.

Every time she remembered the determination in his voice as he’d argued to keep her from being “used,” her insides fluttered as if she’d swallowed butterflies.

God, she loved him so much her poor heart hurt. She’d sure never felt this way about either of her husbands. She’d thought she loved them. Had thought they were friends. Had enjoyed the sex. But her feelings for them hadn’t made her shiver and hurt and…yearn.

Looking into the future, she knew—knew—she wanted Zander beside her forever. Even if they were dumped in wheelchairs in a nursing home, she’d still reach for his hand—and giggle when he growled at a nurse. Which he would so totally do.

And hey, he’d need her there to keep him from getting his aged bony butt tossed out, right? Really, with his unsociable manners, he needed her far more than she needed him. It was her…duty…to love him and cherish him and keep him out of trouble.

And wear slutty-virginal nightgowns to tempt him, and to tease him, and to—her eyes burned—to love him so, so well he’d never remember that his mother hadn’t.

“My mama will like you, Zander,” she whispered. After she got past how scary he could be. She bit her lip at the surge of longing. Never before had she not been home for Christmas with her family.

Hearing the stomping of boots on the porch, she scrubbed her face with her hands and sat up straight.

A man entered and stopped to brush snow off his head and shoulders. His hair was black, eyes dark under heavy eyebrows. Thick stubble blackened his cheeks and jaw. “Good morning. You are the receptionist?”

“I’m filling in for a bit. Can I help you?”

“Possibly. I have a question for one of the staff—I’m in Cabin Five. Is anyone around?” He had a slight Spanish accent.

“Becca will return from town soon. Logan’s cleaning cabins.”

“Guess it’s just you and me?”

She stiffened at the assessing look. “Logan should be back any minute.”

“I only need a minute…Lindsey.” With an ugly sneer, he moved closer. “Chief Parnell has Mrs. Hunt and her baby. You come with me quietly, or he slits the brat’s throat.”

Becca and Ansel? Lindsey’s lungs felt as if he’d stomped on her ribs; she struggled to inhale. “No. Y’all wouldn’t dare.”

The indifference in his expression showed he could care less if a baby died.

She shoved her chair away from the desk. Could she reach her knife before he grabbed her? “I don’t believe you.”

He took a satellite phone from under his coat and punched in a number. “Need proof of life. Let’s hear it.” A second later he held the phone toward her.

Becca was yelling, “Don’t—don’t touch him. Don’t you—”

The sound of a baby crying drowned out everything.

“No! Stop!” Lindsey jumped to her feet. “Don’t hurt them. I’ll go with you. Stop it!”

“Now wasn’t that easy?” As he tucked the phone inside his coat, she saw he had a pistol as well. “Move fast, puta. If Hunt stops us, I’ll put a bullet in his head, and we’ll have a mess.”

***

Jake Hunt made a piss-poor patient, deVries thought, but at least the man’s ankle wasn’t busted. After helping Hunt into the lodge truck, which Simon was driving, deVries continued down the slick boardwalk and into the Bear Flat police station.

Small place. Desks around the walls. A table in the center served as an intake area. Damn quiet for a cop station. Seated at one of the desks was a uniformed officer who looked barely old enough to shave. “Can I help you?”

“Masterson here?”

The boy stiffened. “Lieutenant Masterson is in his office. Give me your name, and I’ll—”

“I see him.” Spotting the glass-fronted room with a LIEUTENANT placard, deVries headed in, leaving the pup gaping behind him.

In the office, Masterson was seated behind an oversize desk while Stanfeld and another man sat at a table off to one side. Masterson looked up from the paper he was studying. “DeVries. Didn’t think I’d see you in town today.”

“Unscheduled trip—we took Jake to the clinic for a sprained ankle.” He ran a hand through his hair, still damp from the snow. “Kallie wants him at your place for a couple of nights. Guess she figures having Summer on hand might help.” Masterson’s wife was a registered nurse.

“Sprained, huh? Bet he’s in a shit mood.” Masterson snorted. “You need assistance transporting him?”

“Nah. Simon is delivering him. I stayed to talk with you and Stanfeld.” DeVries gave the Homeland Security agent a cold stare and colder warning. “You make any plans about Lindsey, you make me part of them.”

Stanfeld frowned. “I can see how—”

Much like a wolf when faced with another male, the other man in the room rose to his feet. Six-one, muscular build, white shirt, badge on his belt, shoulder harness for his pistol. Dark brown hair reached his collar. Trim goatee. Hard blue eyes in a tanned face. “I don’t recall being introduced.”

Interfering bastard. “DeVries. Lindsey’s mine.” He didn’t bother holding out his hand to shake.

The cop snorted. “You’re clear enough.” He did hold out his hand. “Atticus Ware. Detective.”

Ware’s handshake was strong, and he didn’t resort to using it for a pissing contest. The cop might be likeable if he refrained from being an obstacle. “I prefer being clear.”

“I haven’t met your lady,” Ware said. “A Texan?”

DeVries nodded.

“Bet she’s enjoying the snow.”

Masterson grinned. “Coming from Idaho, Ware doesn’t panic at a few snowflakes—unlike the new grad we had from San Diego.”

San Diego. Palm trees. DeVries snorted at the vision of a southern California cop in a blizzard.

“After the fourth time we towed his patrol car out of a ditch, we sent him home,” said Ware.

Stanfeld shook his head. “If you ladies are finished chatting, we might move on?”

Ware resumed his seat.

Now what would have dragged an Idaho cop to California? Odd.

As deVries leaned against the wall, Stanfeld told him, “I came in to talk with the local law enforcement about luring Parnell and Ricks here, where there are limited ways in.”

“And fewer people to fuck things up,” deVries said.

“Exactly.” Stanfeld nodded. “I know you don’t want Lindsey as bait, but—”

The phone on the desk rang.

“Lieutenant Masterson.” Virgil listened and glanced at deVries. “You seen Lindsey here?”

DeVries straightened. “No. Why?”

Masterson’s jaw hardened. “We’ll check around town. What’s she driving?”

He hung up and looked at the others. “She’d told Logan she’d answer the desk phone while he cleaned cabins. He came back, and she wasn’t there. Her car’s gone.”

“Maybe she went to join Rona and Dixon,” Stanfeld said.

DeVries’s gut clenched. “If she said she’d watch something, she wouldn’t leave until relieved. She’s solid like that.”

Masterson was on the phone to his wife. Seconds later, he hung up. “No Lindsey. And Summer says it’s getting to be a whiteout up there.”

“That’s bad,” Ware said to deVries. “What are the chances your coyotes have already grabbed the bait?”

He answered Ware through a dry throat. “Too fucking good.”

***

The snow was falling so thickly the forest looked as if it were draped in gauze. The car fishtailed with every corner, almost sending them over the side of the mountain. By the time Parnell’s hireling turned off onto a barely visible road, Lindsey’s jaw was clenched to an aching tightness.

And she was freezing. The man had shoved her out the door, not letting her get her jacket. Shivers racked her body as her old car finally started to put out some heat.

The car hit a patch of ice and slid toward a tree as the man frantically fought to regain control.

“You’ve never driven in snow, have you?” she said, forcing the words out.

“Shut up.”

Biting her lip, she worked her fingers. Even though she’d accompanied him without fighting, the man had tied her wrists together in front of her so tightly her fingers were half numb. Still, she needed to be able to move when—if—rescue came. It must come.

Logan would finish his chores eventually and notice she was missing or realize Becca was late. But how soon would they begin to search? And could rescuers even find them in the storm? When the man had seen her cell phone attached to the car charger, he’d thrown it out the window to remove any chance of tracking the GPS.

No one would arrive in time—if anyone arrived at all.

As her breathing sped up, she bit down on her tongue sharply. No panicking. She had to believe Zander and the men had a chance of finding her and Becca and the baby.

Oh God, I’m scared.

Her fingernails dug into her thighs. Parnell would hurt her. Kill her. Hurt Ansel.

Ansel. Cold determination smothered the roaring fear. She had to save the baby.

Branches scraped and squealed along the sides of the car as the tiny dirt road narrowed. She stared out at the snow, thinking she could have walked faster than the car was moving. “Can I ask how you found me? I mean, how you found me in Yosemite?”

“Traced you to Demakis Security. Staked out the building. I followed you.” He glanced at her. “Parnell broke into your duplex before he drove here.”

So they’d been watching Simon’s building when she picked up Rona and Dixon. And she’d been oblivious. Now Becca and Ansel would pay for her mistake. Despair clogged her throat, weighted her chest. God, I’m so sorry. “My friends will be looking for you. They’ll find you.”

“Doubt it. By the time they notice you’re missing, they’ll figure you decided to go into town. That’s why we took your car and left my junker rental.” He showed badly rotting teeth as he grinned. “And nobody knows nothing about you—doubt you told your boyfriend you’re wanted for murder.”

Zander did know. And so all the men would start looking for her right away. They’d look for Parnell too. I have to hold on. Stall.

In the swirling snow, the dark outline of a small cabin suddenly materialized. The man parked behind the low wooden rail, which blocked the way to the house.

Without waiting for her to get her footing, he dragged her across the uneven ground and shoved her through the front door so hard she fell to her knees.

Pulling in a deliberate breath, she shook her hair from her face and looked around. The one-room cabin had a woodstove in the far corner, bunk beds on the right. In the middle, Becca sat in a wooden chair, ankles secured to the legs. Her wrists were bound, forcing her to hold Ansel awkwardly in the circle of her arms. Her red-gold hair hung in tangles down her green sweater. Bruising showed on her white, strained face. Tears filled her eyes when she recognized Lindsey.

“Good job, Morales.” The voice was familiar.

Lindsey turned her head. At a battered kitchen table, a man the size of a bear rose to his feet, and her hopes dropped like a rock breaking through ice. She’d known Parnell was here but had hoped Ricks wasn’t. Stan had been right about Parnell and Ricks not trusting each other.

Ricks looked down at her. Although his eyes were shadowed by dark brows, the lust in them showed too clearly. “Guess I’m going to get some playtime.”

Lindsey forced herself not to look away. You tangle with me, I’ll have your hide, John Wayne would have said. If only she could.

“Playtime? Maybe.” Police Chief Parnell sat at the other end of the table. Victor’s brother had brown hair shaved to military shortness, a medium height, lean body, and deep-set eyes holding cold rage. A knife was sheathed at his hip, a pistol on the other. “Nice of you to join us, dear sister-in-law.”

The way he looked at her chilled her to the bone. She’d shot his brother. He’d killed Craig without a second thought—what would he do to her?

Parnell set his coffee down, picked up his chair, and carried it the few feet across the room to place it beside Becca.

Becca’s gaze met Lindsey’s, desperation in their depths. A mother whose child was at risk.

My fault. God, I’m sorry, Becca.

“Question-and-answer time.” Ricks yanked Lindsey to her feet and burrowed his face into the crook of her neck and shoulder.

Gritting her teeth, she struggled, tried to elbow him. He wrapped a thick arm around her waist and groped her breasts.

“Ricks, give it a rest. Put her in the chair,” Parnell snapped and turned to Morales. “Go make sure no one followed you in.”

“Got it.” As Morales left, Parnell grabbed the front of Lindsey’s flannel shirt, wrenched her away from Ricks, and shoved her into the chair beside Becca. His mouth twisted with impatience. “Where’d you put the memory drives?”

“Well…” She’d known this was what they’d ask, and unhappily hadn’t come up with a response. If she said Stan now had the drives, they’d cut their losses and kill her, Becca, and Ansel. Even if she bargained the location in exchange for the other two’s freedom, Parnell wouldn’t honor his word. Becca could identify them; they wouldn’t leave her alive.

Did they think Lindsey was stupid?

The only hope was an escape or rescue, no matter how unlikely. Stall. “I hid the stuff really well. You’ll never find a thing.” She gave Parnell a slight smirk.

He backhanded her so hard the chair rocked. Pain blasted into her cheek, tears springing to her eyes.

Becca made a sound, a low whining, “Nooo.”

Blinking, Lindsey shook her head to clear her vision, to hide her tears. I can’t do this.

“Don’t give me shit,” Parnell said.

Her voice came out shaky. “The flash drives are hidden.”

“Stupid bitch.” Ricks stepped outside. “Morales, did you find anything when you searched her cabin?”

“What the fuck you think?”

Ricks slammed the door. “Asshole.”

The chief snorted. “He’s reliable enough. I don’t care if he lacks manners.” From his pocket, he drew out long plastic zip ties and anchored Lindsey’s left ankle to the chair leg, wrapping it over her boot below her jeans hem. He did the same on the right.

“Why bother?” Ricks moved closer. “She gave herself up.”

“When I interrogate someone, I don’t want them moving. Especially this cunt who killed my brother.” His attention turned back to Lindsey. “Tell me the hiding place.”

“Fuck, I figure the struggle is the best part.” From behind her chair, Ricks reached around to grab her breasts painfully. She tried to jerk away as he squeezed and pinched. “Fight me, bitch. I don’t mind.”

“I do mind.” With his open hand, Parnell slapped her, knocking her head back. “Where?”

The entire world pulsed with red-edged pain. A sob twisted in her chest. Her whole face felt scalded. As she sucked air in small pants, the sweat stench from Ricks roiled her stomach.

Startled by the shout, Ansel had woken and was crying. His little hands waved helplessly. Tears rolled down Becca’s cheeks. With her son in her lap, she could do nothing to help.

Ansel needs me. Think. Please, think. Lindsey swallowed down sickness and forced herself to look at Parnell. “If you let Becca and the baby go, I’ll take you to the memory drives.”

If only one man took Becca from the cabin, Becca would do her best to escape him.

“Tell me now, or I’ll slit Mama’s throat.” Parnell’s thin lips tipped up. “This close, her blood will spray all over you before she dies.”

Ice formed splinters in her heart, hurting and tearing. Chilling her. “I don’t—”have the drives. No, he mustn’t find out she’d given them to Stan.

Ricks squeezed her breasts, making her grunt with the pain. Nauseating her. She let the retching sound escape. “Please, I’m gonna—” She gagged, started to heave.

Both men stepped back.

“S-sorry.” Pretending she was trying to regain control, she looked around. Parnell’s pistol was strapped down. Ricks wasn’t wearing one. Couldn’t make a grab and succeed.

Beside the woodstove was the bathroom. The open door let her see a book-size window. Too small. No back door. In the yard, she’d seen the two front windows had bars on the outside. No easy escape.

“Can we just…just make a deal?” she asked.

Parnell unsheathed his knife. “No deals. Talk fast.” Setting the blade under Becca’s chin, he pricked her skin. A drop of blood appeared.

Becca closed her eyes, holding her son so, so carefully. Ansel stared up at Parnell, blue eyes full of tears, little chest hitching with his crying.

Despair welled up in Lindsey. There was no way out. Lie. If it didn’t get her killed immediately, it might buy some time. “The jump drives are at the lodge, but—”

With a rattle, the door opened, and Morales stuck his head in. “Hey, snow’s getting deep. We’re going to need chains on the tires to get out of here. If we want to leave in a hurry, should put them on now.”

“Well, do it,” Parnell snapped.

“Don’t know how.”

Parnell stared at the guy. “Fuck.”

Off to one side, Ricks shook his head. “I don’t know either.”

With a scowl of disbelief, Parnell said, “Leave the bitches alone. You’ll get your chance later.” He grabbed his jacket and stepped outside.

Only one person remained inside. Hope rose within Lindsey.

“Fucking dick,” Ricks muttered. Crouching down, he ripped open her shirt. His face flushed. “When Parnell’s done, I get you.”

Her chest tightened. The thought of him touching her, inside her… Let me go, please. Oh please. She kept her gaze on him and clenched her teeth to keep the words from escaping.

His color darkened, and he squeezed her cheek roughly enough to bring tears to her eyes. “I’ll fuck your mouth, fuck your ass. Finish off with my knife in your cunt. Bet you don’t stare at me then, bitch.” He shoved her face to the side and rose.

She blinked rapidly, choking on the sobs in her chest.

He took a can of beer from the fridge. Other cans scattered the counter. How much had they been drinking? Would it matter?

Over the howling of the wind, she heard Parnell yell at Morales, “Lay the chain out like this.”

Finishing off the can, Ricks walked into the bathroom. The door closed.

Now now now! Despite her lashed-together wrists, she managed to tug her pants leg up above the top of her boot. With numb fingers, she dragged Zander’s knife from the sheath.

A sharp gasp came from Becca.

Twisting in her chair, Lindsey extended the knife toward Becca, blade up, and mouthed, Hurry.

Becca moved her arms from around Ansel and offered her wrists.

With a hard tug, the sharp blade severed the plastic zip tie. I love you, Zander. Taking the knife, Becca cut Lindsey’s ropes and handed the blade back.

Lindsey sawed through the zip ties around her ankles and stood—for a second. Her knees buckled, and she hit the wood floor with a painful thud. Don’t have heard me, please. Heart thundering in her chest, she slid closer to Becca. Ansel was kicking and squirming.

If she could get Becca freed and—

The toilet flushed.

Shit, shit, shit. Her hammering heart was shutting off her breathing. Couldn’t run with Becca still tied to a chair. Couldn’t fight the huge border patrol agent. Not with such a small blade. Need…something.

After dropping the knife beside Becca, Lindsey lunged for the woodstove to snatch up a heavy chunk of firewood.

Working on cutting her leg ties, Becca was watching. After giving Lindsey a sharp nod, she burst into pseudo-sobbing and pleading. “You have to tell them. Please. They’ll kill my baby. Please, Lindsey.” Ansel started wailing again.

Lindsey couldn’t hear her footsteps as she crossed to the bathroom. Raising the log over her head, she flattened herself against the wall.

The door opened inward. Ricks’s boot appeared. Stopped. “What the—”

He wasn’t far enough out. Frantically, Lindsey swung in a sideways curve around the door frame, aiming blindly. The log hit his forehead with a horrible noise like thumping a watermelon.

Boneless, he fell backward, and the back of his skull struck the small toilet. Blood ran from his forehead in rivers of red.

Roaring sounded in Lindsey’s head, getting louder and louder. She saw Victor’s body, his chest covered in red. Eyes open. Not moving.

Black danced at the edges of her field of vision.

“No fainting, girlfriend.” A hand grasped her shoulder and dragged her from the bathroom door. “Got to move,” Becca whispered.

A shudder shook Lindsey, and she swallowed convulsively. “Okay. Okay.”

Outside the cabin, Parnell was shouting to Morales, “Back up a few more inches.” They weren’t done. Yet.

She looked at Becca. Ansel had quieted, happy to be carried again. He had a lock of Becca’s hair in his little hand.

No matter what happened, Ansel must live. Becca too. Their escape first. “Listen, Becca. You’re going to sneak out the door. Stay by the wall, go around the side. The car is a ways out; they won’t see you.” I hope, I hope.

“They’ll find us. Track us,” Becca protested. Nonetheless she handed Lindsey the baby and donned her coat.

“They’re gonna be chasing me. Your job is to keep Ansel safe.” She put the squirming baby into Becca’s arms. “He’s what matters.”

“I can’t let you—”

“You must.” Zander hadn’t wanted Lindsey to be bait. To be used. And here she was, using herself as bait now—and it was okay. This was right. “No time to argue.”

Conflict warred in Becca’s face until Lindsey touched Ansel’s soft, pink cheek and whispered, “You have to, Becca.”

“Okay,” Becca whispered back. “Good luck.”

“And to you.” Lindsey opened the door a crack, hoping the light didn’t show through the snowfall. She heard the men’s voices but saw only snow. “Go.”

Becca slipped out and disappeared around the side of the cabin.

Give her a minute to get away. Lindsey yanked on Ricks’s giant parka and snatched her knife off the floor. Her mouth was so dry she couldn’t swallow. She could sneak out like Becca. Not be seen.

Except…Becca’s tracks were obvious in the fresh snow. Parnell would catch her and Ansel within minutes.

I don’t want to die.

Her daddy whispered in his pretend John Wayne voice, All battles are fought by scared men who’d rather be someplace else.

He’d expect her to do what was right; she wouldn’t let him down. This was her battle. Pulling in a breath, she shoved the door wide open. It hit the back wall loudly.

“Shit, she’s loose!”

Grateful the two men were blocked by the car, she dashed straight down the road. Please God, let help be coming.

“Goddamn cunt.”

“Puta.”

Two voices cursing. Her plan had worked—both men were after her. Run, Becca. Get away.

The powdery snow was almost silent under her feet as she tore down the barely visible road, trying to stay in the half-filled tire tracks. She slipped and staggered back into a run.

When she went around a curve, she dared a glance over her shoulder. Nothing but falling snow.

Now. She jumped sideways onto a downed tree trunk and launched herself into the forest. She landed hard and rolled behind a tree. Why the heck couldn’t there be more underbrush? Who ever heard of a neat and tidy woods, all tree trunks and snow?

Harsh breathing. Low cursing. She heard them despite the muffling effect of the falling snow.

As she held her breath, they ran past on the road. They hadn’t seen where she’d jumped from the tire tracks to the tree trunk.

She lay for a moment, gasping in the thin mountain air. It was a reprieve—a short one. When they didn’t overtake her in the next few minutes, they’d retrace their steps, watching for where she left the road.

Her tracks would be there, easy to spot once they’d slowed down.

Still—they were focused on her. Please, God, let Becca and the baby get to safety.