CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“YOU WERE RIGHT,” Sarah said as she climbed into Russell’s pickup parked outside the sheriff’s department. It was late now, twilight deepening. The Crazy Mountains had turned a midnight blue against the lighter sky. They looked cold and dark. At the thought of her daughter being up there...
But they were Buck’s daughters and always had been, even before she’d left. He’d put them on horses before they could even walk. He’d taken them to the mountains camping when they were toddlers. He’d wanted them to be like him, fearless. He hadn’t wanted them to be like their mother, meek, mild Sarah, afraid of everything.
“I probably shouldn’t have gone in there.”
“What happened?” Russell asked as he started the engine and backed out.
“I’m being investigated.”
Russell glanced over at her. “What about that surprises you? The sheriff asked you for your fingerprints and DNA. Did you really think he was just trying to help you find your past?”
She was surprised at the anger she heard in his voice.
“You were married to a man who will probably be the next president of the United States if he doesn’t screw it up.”
“Or if I don’t. Isn’t that what you mean?” When he said nothing as he drove out of the parking lot, she demanded, “Why do you think you know what is best for me? You and Buck? What makes either of you...” Her voice trailed off. “I’m sorry. All you’ve done is try to help me. Buck, too. If anyone is to blame for this, it’s me. The sheriff told me how I literally dropped back into Beartooth and everyone’s life by parachute. He also asked me about a strange tattoo on my butt that I’ve never seen and had no idea was there. If it really is.”
Russell threw on the brakes. “What? You parachuted into the woods where I found you?”
“So you didn’t know,” she said. “He didn’t tell you about the tattoo?”
Russell shook his head. “It’s just a tattoo, right?”
“More like a brand, I’m told. I can’t see it unless I use a hand mirror. I’m going to need you to take a photo of it for me. Would you do that?”
He glanced over at her. She could tell that he was touched she trusted him with this. “You know I’ll do whatever you ask me to.”
She nodded distractedly. “The rumors you heard were true. The sheriff told me about a man named Lester Halverson finding me. This man, a hermit who lived on the river, told him that I called someone that night. Whoever that someone was, they picked me up, and that’s the last anyone around here saw of me.”
“Did he ask you again for your DNA and fingerprints?” Russell asked, worried.
“He didn’t have to. Apparently he had them all along, taken from the chute’s harness. He then compared it with the DNA from my broken coffee mug—and backed it up with Kat’s DNA.”
“But nothing came up in any of their criminal databases.” He sounded relieved.
Sarah, though, didn’t seem to feel better. When he questioned her about why she wasn’t relieved, she said, “Whatever I might have been, I just didn’t get caught.” She shook her head, not believing any of this. “The sheriff knows more about me than I do. And you were worried about what I might tell him?”
“Sarah.” Russell reached over and took her hand. She started to pull away but changed her mind. Her hand felt so warm in his big callused one. She wanted him to wrap his arms around her and hold her. In Russell’s arms, she told herself, she would feel safe. “It’s going to be all right. You’re going to remember everything.”
That’s what terrified her given the sheriff thought she might be a national security risk.
* * *
DARKNESS CLOSED IN quickly over the mountains. As the moon rose, Jace caught glimpses of the full gold orb through the pines. The air was colder this far back into the mountains, the pine scent crispier. He breathed it in and thought for a moment that he’d caught a whiff of smoke.
He rode up to high knob to camp for the night. He’d lost his light and didn’t dare keep going in the dark. He chose the knob so he would be able to see if anyone was approaching in the bright moonlight. Originally he’d ridden into the mountains thinking he would find Bo and simply take her back. Now he had no idea what he would be facing when he did find her.
Where are you, Bo? Still running?
He breathed in hard, his anger boiling up again. What the hell was he doing? This was none of his business. He’d taken it on himself to bring the woman back to face... To face what? Until that moment, he hadn’t let himself believe that she’d had anything to do with the stolen money. But what if she had? What if her actions led to the dissolving of the foundation—and Emily’s job?
He realized he hadn’t thought this through. Finding Bo and taking her back might not solve anything.
He took another breath. This time there was no mistaking it. He caught the acrid smell of campfire smoke. He froze for a moment before sniffing the air. Definitely campfire smoke.
He had thought he must be getting close. Bo and the man she was traveling with apparently only had the one horse. They were traveling slower than he was—but not that much. Why were they pushing so hard?
Because now the two of them were on the run?
He tried to gauge where the smoke was coming from. It could travel great distances on a wind. But tonight there was only a slight breeze coming out of the north—the same direction as Bo Hamilton and her companion.
Tying his horse to a tree, he took his rifle. His handgun was already strapped to his hip, loaded and ready. The moon topped the pines, splashing the mountainside with light. He could make out a smudge of gray below him to the north. A campfire less than the distance of a football field away.
He started down the mountain, unsure what he was going to find once he reached the campsite. The man she’d met up with, whoever he was, complicated things. Jace expected him to be armed—Bo could be, too, for that matter.
So he wouldn’t be storming into the camp until he knew what he was getting into. If she was on the run with the money, she wouldn’t take kindly to him showing up. And neither would the man with her.
* * *
BO WAS TERRIFIED Ray was going to cut her. He ran the flat part of the blade down her arm, his gaze locked with hers as he did it.
She fought not to shudder at his touch or, worse, the knife’s. When she tried to take a step back, he’d grabbed her with his free hand, cupping the back of her neck and squeezing until she cried out.
The knife still in his hand, he pulled her closer until they were only a breath’s width apart. Behind him, the campfire crackled, the beans bubbling. She caught a whiff of them, and her stomach growled even though she could tell they were burned.
The moon had risen above the tops of the pines and now poured a silver sheen down on them. She could see Ray’s angry face clearly. She’d prayed that this moment would never come, but time had run out—just as she’d feared.
“I am goin’ to have ya, one way or another,” he said from between gritted teeth. “Ya want it rough?” He gave her a shake. “Ya’ll get it.”
She didn’t want it at all, but her options had run out.
“I been patient. Now I’m tired of waitin’. My old man’ll be here tomorrow. I have to know that yer...mine. Ya understand?”
She feared she understood only too well. He no longer cared if she liked him. He needed her to be his before his father arrived in the morning. Tonight he was going to take what he wanted, and if she fought him... Well, that would be the worst thing she could do. But how could she not?
Still holding the back of her neck in a viselike grip, he shoved her back until she collided with the thick base of a tall pine. In the darkness of the boughs, his free hand went to her breast. He rubbed his palm over it, and when she didn’t respond, he squeezed it hard through her clothing, making her wince.
He let out a guttural sound that could have been pleasure. Or pain.
She closed her eyes, filled with the terror of what she knew was about to happen. She would fight him with her last ounce of strength. That thought almost made her laugh. Weak with hunger, exhausted from fear and pain from her injuries, lack of sleep and hours either walking or in the saddle, how in God’s name would she be able to fight him off?
No, she thought as she opened her eyes and looked into his. She had a feeling that she wouldn’t be the first woman to fight him, and that it would only get her hurt worse.
Gain his trust. It’s the only way you’re going to get off this mountain alive.
He released his grip on her neck at the same time he let go of her breast.
She kept her gaze locked with his, afraid of what he would do next but willing herself to keep calm. Something softened in his face.
Then he froze. “Did you hear that?” he asked in a hoarse whisper.
She hadn’t heard anything except the frantic pounding of her pulse in her ears. Glancing around, all she saw past the campfire was darkness. She caught the sound of the beans bubbling in the can. “The beans—”
He clamped a hand down over her mouth as he shoved her hard against the trunk of a pine tree—and deeper into the darkness of the pine boughs. “That weren’t no beans,” he whispered, tilting his head as he listened.
What was it he thought he heard? Surely not his father. Ray had said he wouldn’t be here until morning.
She listened. The night had gone incredibly still beyond the black shadow of the pine boughs where they stood. Bo felt as if she’d gone deaf. Closer she heard the pounding of her heart in her ears and Ray’s ragged breathing. His face twisted in anger. Or was that fear?
He sheathed the knife. He reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out the duct tape and began to wrap her wrists together with an urgency that filled her with both panic and hope that what he’d heard was someone out there coming to save her.
* * *
AFTER TAKING THE back road to his ranch, Russell let her inside the door and turned on the lights. He took her cell phone from her and blushed to the roots of his hair.
“Are you sure you don’t mind doing this?” Sarah asked. She’d known how uncomfortable this was going to make him. Was it modesty or the feelings he had for her? The fact that he’d fallen half in love with her was no secret to either of them. It was just a mistake on his part.
“You know I would do anything to help you.” But he looked as if he was about to face a firing squad, not take a photo of the tattoo on her butt.
She still couldn’t believe the tattoo even existed. The doctor’s wife, Sarah realized, was the only person who’d seen her naked since her return from the dead.
That was before Buck had told her about the tattoo’s existence and confirmed that it was true. Something like a brand was on her right buttock. But Sarah hadn’t believed it until she’d seen it with her own eyes with the use of a hand mirror moments ago.
“I need a clear photo so I can try to tell what this is,” she said to Russell as he stood holding the phone. She turned her back and pulled the waistband of her pants down enough that he would be able to get a shot.
She heard him behind her, heard the snap of the cell phone camera and heard him take a second photo.
“Done,” he said, sounding odd.
She fixed her clothing before turning to look at him. He was staring into the phone. Russell had been her protector since that first day that he’d found her in the middle of nowhere coming out of the woods.
But right now, he looked uncomfortable.
“Is it that bad?” she asked, seeing that he was upset.
He shook his head. “It’s just...seeing you half-naked.” His gaze met hers. The raw desire she saw there shouldn’t have surprised her.
She didn’t dare respond to the need in his eyes, although she obviously couldn’t remember the last time she was with a man. If it wouldn’t have complicated things, she might have taken Russell up on it. She could definitely use a good roll in the hay—a thought that was nothing like the old Sarah whom Buck had married. She’d been shy about sex with Buck—even after they’d brought six children into the world.
She had a feeling that if she let herself go, there would be nothing shy or reserved about her lovemaking. Another reason she wouldn’t be having sex with Russell.
“May I see the photo?” she asked, anxious to defuse the situation.
He nodded and handed her the cell phone.
“This is so odd,” she said as she stared at what appeared to be a pendulum. She couldn’t imagine why she would let anyone puncture her skin to drive ink into the dermis of her rear, let alone pay someone for the privilege. Not for a pendulum.
“No more odd than returning from the dead with no memory of the past twenty-two years to find your husband married to another woman, your children all grown and the press hounding you for all the sordid details,” Russell said. “Compared to that, well, it’s just a tattoo.”
She smiled at him. How easy it would have been to step to him, put her arms around his neck and pull him down for a kiss. She could see him carrying her to the bedroom. He would be a tender, considerate lover. So why didn’t she give into it? Did she really think Buck wasn’t having sex with his wife?
“You have no idea how it got there or what it might mean?” Russell asked.
“None. You said you can plug the phone into your computer and make a printed copy of it?”
They’d come to his ranch, taking the back way to avoid any press that might still be lurking around. The cabin where she was staying was nice, but Sarah missed staying down here in his guesthouse. But she knew Russell was right about it not being safe—and not just from the media.
Buck’s new wife had come to see her before Russell had moved her to the cabin. No surprise that Sarah had taken an instant dislike to the woman. What had scared her wasn’t the other woman, but the violent impulse she’d had in Angelina Broadwater Hamilton’s presence. She’d realized then that she was the one who might be dangerous.
Russell sat down at his computer, plugged in the phone and loaded the two photos he’d taken. The tattoo came up on the screen. The hand mirror or the cell phone screen hadn’t done the design justice.
“Does it look like anything you’ve ever seen before?” Russell asked.
She shook her head, but with a heated rush her skin remembered the bite of the needle into her tender flesh and a feeling of both pain—and pleasure.
“Can you make me a copy?” Sarah asked, her voice cracking.
He didn’t move to print the image on the screen. She looked over at him. His gaze was both sad and disappointed.
“You remember getting it, don’t you?” He sounded accusing.
She shook her head, but she could tell he didn’t believe her.
“When I was a boy, a friend and I took a knife and cut a slice in our palms becoming blood brothers. Sarah, is there a chance this tattoo connects you to whoever flew you back here?”
* * *
RAY FROZE TO LISTEN. He’d developed a sixth sense when it came to trouble. It was as if he could feel it bone deep.
He’d been feeling it since he’d taken the woman. Why hadn’t he thought this out? Like his old man always said, sometimes he was dumber than a tree stump. Of course someone would come looking for her. He stared at her for a long moment as he listened, regretting that he hadn’t just had his way with her and killed her. Someone would still have come looking for her, but at least he would have had the satisfaction no matter how fleeting. Now...
He hurriedly finished wrapping her wrists, taping them tighter than he probably should have in his anger and frustration. This was all her fault. If he was right and someone was coming after her...
Too late to change anything now. He had her, and damned if he wasn’t going to keep her. If he was right and there was someone out there... Well, they’d never have her. He’d kill her before he’d let anyone take her.
But he told himself it wouldn’t come to that. Whoever was looking for her wouldn’t know about him. Surprise! He’d kill the person. Once his old man got here, if he still had the woman, then he would take her with him deeper into the mountains. He wasn’t giving her up. She would learn to love him. Or wish she had.
He stopped again to listen. And if he didn’t still have the woman? Then he’d take the horses his father was bringing and get out of these mountains. He’d go to Mexico and start over.
But it hurt to think that he would be going alone since his father hated Mexico—and would be so angry with him that he wouldn’t go with him anyway. Ray had it in his head that this woman was his. He wasn’t sure he cared what happened to him if he didn’t have her at least once before he had to kill her.
* * *
BO HADN’T HEARD ANYTHING. But Ray seemed to think someone was out there. Or something? Given the large number of grizzlies that lived in the Crazies...
“Is it a bear?” she whispered.
In answer, he tore off a piece of the tape and plastered it over her mouth as he shoved her to her knees on the ground.
“No.” Her cry was muffled by the tape. “No!” she cried again, terrified that all this had been a ruse so he could bind her and finally take what he wanted roughly, the way she suspected he liked it.
“Shut up!” he whispered hoarsely against her ear as he threw her facedown in the dirt so hard that she had trouble catching her breath.
She was screaming inside as she saw him grab the rope from where he’d dropped it earlier. Pulling her to her feet, he forced her to turn against the trunk of the pine tree and then began to wrap the rope tightly around her and the tree.
He stopped twice, both times freezing for a moment as if listening again to the night, before he continued tying her.
Her face against the rough bark, she, too, listened for any sound coming from the trees or mountains around them. She heard nothing. Was it possible Ray Spencer was losing his mind? She almost laughed at the thought. The man was a psychopath. He’d been locked up before he escaped. Ideally, he would be locked up again and soon.
But she didn’t dare hope there was someone out in the darkness who could make that happen. Hope would make her cry, and if she cried, Ray would give her something more to cry about. It was better to believe he was having a psychotic incident.
What happened, though, when he realized his mistake? She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling hot tears leak from her lashes and run down her cheeks. She would be lucky to live through this night, she thought as she heard Ray douse the campfire. The acrid smell of smoke wafted over her. She tried not to cough.
She turned her head to the side as far as she could. She saw him through the smoke. He was standing a few yards from her out of the moonlight, his face twisted in an expression she hadn’t seen before. He looked like a trapped animal. He was scared. He’d looked this same way when he’d heard the horn and realized that his father would be arriving soon.
What if it was a grizzly? She knew that if it came to a choice between saving her and saving himself, Ray would leave her as bear bait.
Her chest hurt from trying to hold in the tears and the frantic pounding of her heart. What was out there? Ray wasn’t stupid enough to try to kill a grizzly with a pistol, was he? But he didn’t have his pistol, she saw with a start. The barrel of his rifle glistened in the moonlight at the corner of his open pack. His pistol was in there, as well. She had the feeling he much preferred a knife, and that’s why he didn’t carry the guns.
But if it was bear, did he plan on killing it with his knife? No, whatever he thought he heard, he believed it to be human.
With a start, she realized that was why he was keeping to the darkness of the pines—so he couldn’t be seen. Which meant he was afraid to get his guns out of the pack because it was a good distance away and in the moonlight.
A twig snapped, sounding like a gunshot somewhere out in the forest. Ray heard it, too. He glanced toward his pack, clearly debating whether to race across the camp in the moonlight for the guns, but he didn’t move. She listened hard, thought she heard the sound of a boot heel on the dried forest floor. Was someone really out there?
Not his father, since Ray had said he was hours away. Could it be someone looking for her? Hope filled her like helium. She tried to call out, the sound muffled against the tape. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ray, the knife gripped in his fist, motioning for her to shut up. But he didn’t move toward her—that would have meant crossing a stretch of moonlit ground, making him a target.
Closer, she heard the sound of something brush against a pine bough. There was someone out there! She saw Ray slip deeper into the darkness of the pines.
She pressed her face into the rough bark of the tree as she worked to get the tape free from her mouth. If searchers had come to save her, she had to warn them about Ray.