Undercover Mountain Pursuit, page 15
She slowed her pace. “Why do we have to go over this? Luke died. It was too much for either of us to bear.”
“What if we had made different choices? What if we had been there for each other?”
She stopped and turned to face him. “The point is, that is not what happened. You left me.”
Rain trickled down the side of his face. The cold had soaked through his skin. He knew he needed to say what had been on his mind almost from the moment he’d looked up and saw Willow in that helicopter. Speaking the truth might destroy the fragile bond between them. “I felt like you drove me away when you said you didn’t love me anymore.”
Her words came out in almost a whisper. “I guess there is plenty of blame to go around.”
The softness of her response made him lean closer to her. “Look if...when I wrap this case up, I intend to move back to Little Horse. Could we at least give friendship a shot?”
Her eyes searched his. “If all this proves nothing else, our time together shows we can look out for each other. I suppose we could manage a friendship.”
Even though he was chilled to the bone, her words and her smiled warmed him.
She stared out at the trees in front of her. “Kind of a moot point right now though, isn’t it?”
“What do you mean?”
“We’re a long way from being able to catch your Mr. Smith.”
It wasn’t looking good for them either way. The news that an undercover agent had gotten so close to Mr. Smith might send him into hiding. The only thing that would keep him out in the open was that he’d made it clear he wanted Quentin and Willow dead.
* * *
The conversation with Quentin still echoed in her mind as Willow turned and continued to walk. It seemed like they should have come to the road by now or at least seen signs that they were getting closer. There was no echo of cars rumbling by on the paved road to indicate they were anywhere close.
She wondered if they had somehow gotten turned around and were headed deeper into the forest than back to the more populated part of the park.
Everything felt so upside down and uncertain. If Mr. Smith wasn’t captured, she might have to leave Little Horse forever. If he was arrested, Quentin would be moving back to Little Horse.
The rain had soaked through her clothes.
Quentin pulled his phone out. “I have a signal. What if we call for help? The nearest ranger station should be able to send someone to search for us.”
“Quentin, we don’t even know where we are.”
Willow took in her surroundings, not seeing any obvious place to take shelter. The trees were just starting to bud and would not keep the rain out.
“Maybe we could get back to the car and take shelter there.” Quentin was shivering so badly his voice vibrated.
That was at least twenty minutes uphill. “Just off the road like that, we’d be easier to locate for sure. They’d be able to come for us quickly.”
She listened to the rain. Neither one of them said what they were both probably thinking. What if Calvin went back looking for them at the car when they didn’t show up at the crossroads?
They couldn’t stay out here much longer.
There was no good choice here.
He took his phone out. “I’m going to call for help. I’ll let them know we’re headed back toward the car. They can locate it fast because it’s close to the road. They might be waiting for us by the time we get there.”
She nodded. “It seems the smarter thing to go back to a location we know can be found than to hope we run into help up ahead.” The road leading up to the lake had no mile markers. “I think we were more than halfway down the mountain when we got stuck.”
He wiped the water off his face. The phone was getting soaked. She tore her jacket off and stepped toward him. She used the coat as a shield over the phone. “So you can at least see the screen.”
“Thanks.” He entered the number and explained the situation. Quentin must have had the phone on speaker because she could hear the operator promise to send someone to that area as quickly as possible.
They trudged back up the mountain toward where the car was. The ground had become slicker from the rain which was coming down in sheets. They huddled closer together and forged ahead.
Though it felt like an eternity, eventually they came through the trees and could locate the car still stuck in the mud. The overcast sky had caused it to feel more like nighttime.
They increased their pace. She didn’t see any signs of another car on the road up above. The sound of the rain altered and then she felt the needle sting of hail hitting her skin. The change made them move even faster.
Both of them were beyond freezing when they were within feet of the car.
“You get in,” Quentin said. “I think I have some emergency provisions in my trunk.”
Willow reached out for the cold metal of the door handle and dragged herself inside. She crossed her arms and rocked trying to get warm. She had a vague awareness that Quentin had opened the driver’s side door to push the button that released the trunk latch.
Her focus and ability to register her surroundings had become fuzzy. Hypothermia must be setting in. The shivering meant she was still in the early stages. Quentin must be in even worse shape. He’d been without a jacket. Quentin opened the front driver’s side door and turned the engine on. A moment later, she felt a blast of heat.
He crawled in beside her, placing a space blanket over her shoulders. “Need to get your core warm,” he said.
“My hands are so cold.”
“That’s an easy thing to fix.” He placed a warm square packet in each of her hands. Relishing the heat, she pressed her hands together and drew them toward her chest. He leaned close to her and draped a blanket over his shoulders and also around her. “Are you okay with me being this close?”
Despite the direness of their situation, she laughed. “It’s just for warmth, right?”
Quentin didn’t answer but put his arm around her back and drew her close. They huddled together while the hail pinged on the metal of the car.
Gradually, the shivering stopped. The hail came down so fast that it covered much of the windshield.
Willow closed her eyes and turned her head to rest on Quentin’s chest. She found comfort in his arms. She’d missed this.
Quentin stirred. She opened her eyes. “What is it?”
The hail blocked most of the view through the windshield.
“I’m not sure, but I think I saw flashing lights.”
Willow took in a breath and turned to gaze out the side window. She tilted her head to see up toward the road they had slid off. “I don’t see anything.”
“Maybe I should get out.” Quentin moved away from her. “I don’t want the ranger to miss us.”
She still did not see any light. “If it is the ranger...” She knew there was a chance Calvin would come back looking for them.
EIGHTEEN
Quentin had seen only a flash of light and then it was gone. It could have been a car going by and it could have been Calvin.
He clicked on the windshield wipers to clear the hail off, stared out at the darkness and then turned on the headlights. Maybe he had just imagined seeing light.
Willow leaned forward. Her hand touched his headrest as she searched as well. She scooted across the seat and stared out the side window to have a view of the road.
“See anything?”
“No,” she said.
“I’m going to get out. He may have driven past. When he doesn’t find us, he’ll turn back around. I don’t want him to miss us on the way down.”
“Wouldn’t the 911 dispatcher have passed on your phone number? Why doesn’t he just call us?”
He pulled his phone out and stared at the black screen. “The battery is dead.”
“Quentin, we just got warmed up. I don’t think going out in the cold is such a good idea.”
He had to say what both of them were probably assuming. “Are you thinking it could just be Calvin up there looking for us?”
“Of course that has crossed my mind.”
“Maybe the headlights will be enough for us to be seen.” He pulled his revolver from the holster and checked the cylinder. Three bullets left. He put the gun on the console.
The windshield wipers swished back and forth. The hail had turned to sleet and was swirling in the headlights. This early in the spring it wasn’t unusual to get sleet or even snow. The temperature must have dropped.
The car had become toasty warm.
Ten minutes passed. He began to question if he had even seen lights flash.
“There.” Willow pointed toward the road. “Someone is up there.”
The leather seat creaked as Quentin reached for the gun and peered up at where Willow had indicated. He saw it as well. A car must have stopped above them.
Willow whirled around to stare out the back window. “He’s coming this way.”
The glowing circle of a flashlight wobbled toward them.
“You stay inside. Let me get out and talk to the guy.” He gripped the gun, pushed open the door and stepped outside ready for whatever he was facing. The cold wind and hail stabbed at his skin.
The light bobbed up and down as it came closer. He could see only the man’s silhouette. The man stopped when he was about twenty feet away and pointed the light toward Quentin.
“I understand you folks are stranded.”
Quentin squinted and jerked his head back to get out of the direct path of the light. He breathed a sigh of relief. The voice was unfamiliar. “Yes. There are two of us.” He opened the back door and spoke to Willow. “It’s all clear.”
Within minutes, he had grabbed Willow’s bag and a backpack of camera gear, and they were in the ranger’s warm vehicle. Quentin sat up front while Willow got in the back with her camera gear.
Both of them were so beyond tired that the ranger did most of the talking. He introduced himself as Rolf. “Lot of rain coming down pretty fast. Got a little bit of flooding in parts of the park. If you don’t mind, I’ll drop you two off at my cabin. I got some other calls to go out on.”
“That would be fine,” Quentin answered.
“Probably won’t be able to get a tow truck up to pull your car out until tomorrow.”
When they arrived at the cabin, the ranger told them to make themselves at home. “Eat whatever you like. There’s plenty of dry firewood.” After unlocking the door for them, the ranger drove away through the storm.
They stepped inside the cabin which was one large room with a ladder leading to a loft. A door off to the side must be where the bathroom was.
Quentin put down the backpack he had carried for Willow. “What is our priority here? Getting dried off or eating?” His clothes were already partially dry from his having sat in the warm car.
“Can’t we do both? I’ll see what I can find in the kitchen if you want to start a fire. We can sit in front of it to dry off.”
The cabin was chilly which meant the woodstove must be the primary heat source. He found dry wood on the covered back porch underneath a tarp. By the time Quentin got the woodstove going, Willow brought him a steaming bowl of chili.
She set another plate with crackers on it down on the coffee table in front of the two easy chairs that faced the woodstove. Willow returned with another steaming bowl and sat down in the other chair.
He ate slowly. The house warmed up as did his stomach. Willow finished her bowl and set it on the coffee table. She sat back in the chair and closed her eyes. Her breathing changed, indicating that she had fallen asleep. Though it was early evening, it was clear the trauma of the day had taken its toll.
Quentin got up and pulled his phone out. He had noticed a charger on a table by the back door. He was grateful when he saw that it fit his phone. He plugged his phone in and stared out at the sleet coming down and the drizzle on the window.
After finding a throw to cover Willow, he plunked down in the other easy chair. She looked really beautiful when she slept. He had to catch himself when out of habit he wanted to reach over and brush the hair off her face. Her strawberry blonde hair always got curlier when it got wet.
He took in a deep breath trying to quell the rising sense of despair. He had a phone call to make to his supervisor, but he was sure that now that his cover was blown it meant he’d be pulled out of his undercover assignment. To what degree he would be involved in the investigation was uncertain...if at all.
This might be the end of the line for him. David Stone’s death would be in vain. David, who was fifteen years older than Quentin and thinking of retiring or at least moving to a desk assignment, had left behind a wife and three kids. David had not only shown Quentin the ropes working undercover but had been the one who had helped Quentin forgive himself over what had happened to Luke.
He rested his tensed hands on the arms of the easy chair and focused on the comforting crackle of the wood burning and the flames in the window of the woodstove until he was able to relax. His muscles were as fatigued as his mind. He needed to rest.
His supervisor had said something about tracking down the owner of Vertical Limit. Maybe that would provide a lead.
He said a prayer knowing that whatever happened, God was in control.
With Mr. Smith still at large and probably getting ready to lie low, Willow would have to be put in witness protection. Quentin glanced over at her as she turned her head to the side and pulled the blanket around her shoulders.
He dreaded giving her that news.
* * *
Willow awoke in darkness to the noise of Quentin snoring in the chair next to her. The fire had become glowing embers though the cabin remained toasty warm. She heard a strange buzzing that her groggy state did not quite register. The noise was coming from the kitchen. When she looked in that direction a phone glowed on the counter.
She rose with the blanket still wrapped around her shoulders. A text message from Calvin had just come up on the phone.
I know where you are.
Her heart thudded. She pulled the phone from the charger and hurried to wake Quentin. Because it was dark and she was unfamiliar with the room, she crashed into a plastic bucket that had been left by the counter. It fell on its side and rolled across the floor.
The noise was enough to cause Quentin to jump to his feet. “What?”
After commanding the flashlight feature on the phone to turn on, she hurried toward Quentin and showed him the text.
“What does it mean? Why is he warning us like that?” When she tried the lamp beside one of the easy chairs, it did not turn on. The electricity might be out, or it was run on a generator that shut down during nonpeak hours.
“Flashlight off,” Quentin commanded.
Quentin did not answer her question but instead rushed toward the window that looked out on the gravel drive that connected to the road. He ran a patrol around the entire cabin, peering out each window and even opening the door and stepping outside.
He returned, closed the door and clicked the dead bolt. The door had previously been unlocked. They’d both been too tired to think about security. “I don’t see anything out there. He might be trying to flush us out.”
“But how could he even know we were here? Do you think he’s bluffing to keep us afraid?”
Quentin paced and stared at his phone. His gaze fell on the two bags of photo gear Willow had managed to save. “Look through your bag for anything you didn’t put in there. I’ll take the backpack. He may have put a tracking device in there when we abandoned the car, knowing that you valued that equipment enough to come back for it.” He turned his flashlight back on.
Willow dropped to the floor and started to search the pocket of the bag that held her favorite camera. She took the camera out and felt around. The flashlight was placed between the two bags, so it didn’t fully illuminate where she was searching.
“Found it,” Quentin said. “Hold the light for me. If I turn this off, he’s going to know we found it.”
“Should we call for help?”
“We can’t stay here.” Quentin placed the device on the end table by one of the easy chairs. “He’s just waiting for his chance.”
“But why warn us? He wants us to come out to try to run.”
Quentin ran his hands through his hair. “If it’s just him out there, he can’t keep eyes on every part of the cabin. You call for help. I’m going to slip outside and toss this thing so it looks like we’ve left the cabin.”
Willow doubted there were very many rangers on shift at this hour. And those who were working were probably dealing with the flooding issue the ranger who had found them had mentioned. How long would it take for help to show up?
Quentin moved around in the dark. He grabbed a coat that was hung on a hook. He opened the door only a sliver and stepped out into the cold dark night.
Willow’s fingers were shaking as she dialed 911 and explained the situation to the operator.
“Which ranger cabin are you at?”
Willow had to think. Had the ranger said his name? “It is the one not too far from the road leading up to Trout Lake where the road T’s off.” She tried to recall the conversation between Quentin and the ranger as he drove them. “I think the ranger’s name was Ralph or Wolf or something like that.”
“Rolf,” said the operator. “I know where you are. Can you sit tight until help can get there?”
“I can’t answer that. I don’t know if the man who sent the threatening text is close by or just trying to scare us.”
“We’ll get help out there as quickly as we can.”
Willow said thank you and hung up. Realizing the glow of the phone might tell Calvin where she was, she put the phone in her pocket. She sat down low on the floor by one of the easy chairs. Her own phone had been in one of the camera bags they’d left behind.
