“I don’t know you, and I don’t know what you’re capable of. We can’t have anyone slowing us down,” the search-and-rescue leader stated as he glared at Mercy.
“Trust me, I can probably outlast all of you,” she said as she scanned the rest of the SAR crew, ignoring the threatening twinge in her thigh.
She’d been in place that morning before anyone else arrived. Her backpack was stocked for at least three nights in the woods, and she was dressed in waterproof, breathable gear. She wore her most reliable hiking boots and had popped three ibuprofen. She had backups in her pocket. “I know what I’m doing.”
The group was composed of various local officers. Three, including the leader, were from the Bend Police Department, one was a Deschutes County deputy, and one was from the Redmond Police Department. They looked experienced and skeptical.
“Aren’t you the FBI agent who helped bring down that militia?” asked Anna, one of the officers from Bend.
“Yes.”
“She can handle it, Lou,” the woman said. “That was some nasty shit she was in the middle of. I heard about it.”
Mercy met Anna’s gaze and gave a small nod.
“Okay. But if you slow us down, I’m leaving you behind. You armed?”
“Yes.” Mercy touched the side of her jacket.
Lou focused on his map. “We’re about a half mile from where those perps out searching for the kid and the chief reportedly checked in. They claimed they found footprints at one point, so we’re going to operate on the assumption that they’re in the right place, because I don’t know who else would choose to be out in this crappy weather over the past week.
“If we follow the general direction from the place where Truman was held, it appears the two of them are heading here.” Lou circled an area with his finger. “I don’t think they would go any further north, because there’s a wide section of sheer cliffs that you can’t get around. But this is an isolated, sort of protected area. If this mystery kid has a hidden place in the woods, this is where I’d build it. No one goes here.”
Mercy couldn’t disagree with his logic. But there’s so much forest. What if he’s wrong?
They were truly searching for a needle in a haystack.
As they headed out, Mercy fell into the middle of the line, pleased to be doing something.
It finally felt like progress.
I hope my leg doesn’t give out.
“I think we should have waited one more day,” Ollie said, watching Truman catch his breath.
“I just need a moment. I feel pretty strong,” Truman lied as he leaned against a tree for the fourth time that morning. There was no way he was going back to the cabin. He could taste freedom; he had to keep moving forward. “It doesn’t matter if we go a little slow,” he argued. “No one is expecting us.”
He wanted to ask how much farther but knew he wouldn’t like the answer.
Shep touched his nose to Truman’s leg and then went back to sit next to Ollie. Truman wondered if he’d passed the dog’s inspection. Surely the dog couldn’t smell exhaustion, but his eyes looked at Truman in sympathy.
“What will you do when you get rid of me?” Truman asked, stalling for more rest time.
The teen shrugged. “Go back home. Keep preparing for the winter.”
The thought of Ollie spending the winter in his little hut made Truman shudder. No doubt Ollie didn’t mind . . . or did he?
“What would you like to do with your life, Ollie?”
He tilted his head in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“I guess I’m asking what you want to be when you grow up,” Truman said awkwardly.
“Be? I want to be me.”
“What kind of job would you like to have? You know, like become a doctor or a lawyer or a fireman.” This is the sort of conversation I’d have with a ten-year-old.
“Oh.” Ollie thought hard. “I wouldn’t mind being a teacher. Don’t know what I’d teach, though.”
“I can totally see that.” Truman wasn’t surprised. Ollie had used a calm, steadying manner as he’d taught Truman card games. He was patient, kind, and brave as hell. “You should set that as a goal. You’re a natural to be a teacher.”
“I suppose this is where you talk to me about school again,” the teen said.
“I know you want to learn.”
“True.”
“We’ll make it happen. I promise you, once we’re out of here, I’ll help you explore all your possibilities.” He didn’t want to see the boy live out his life in the woods with a dog.
“You done stalling?”
“Yes,” Truman admitted.
“Let’s go.”
It was midafternoon when Lou halted and held up his hand, making the line of searchers come to a stop. “Ten-minute break.”
Trying not to limp, Mercy took a few steps to lean against a tree trunk. She’d swallowed all her Advil, ignoring the recommended dose. While going down a steep hill, she’d been terrified her leg would buckle under the strain, and Anna had given her a strange look as Mercy wiped heavy sweat from her forehead. No one else was visibly sweating.
At the break, Anna followed Mercy to the tree and removed a bottle of water from her pack. “What’s wrong with your leg?” Anna asked quietly between sips, her lips hidden behind her water bottle.
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit. I vouched for you to come. Am I going to regret it?”
“No,” Mercy said through clenched teeth. “I’m keeping up just fine.”
The woman studied Mercy, her green eyes doubtful. “What happened?” she asked again.
Do I tell her? “Gunshot. Two months ago.”
A small measure of respect replaced the doubt. “Are you fucking crazy?”
“I have to find him.”
Anna looked away, indecision flickering as she took in the men as they rehydrated and rested. “I should tell Lou right now.”
“Not until I collapse. Then you can say something.”
“What’s that sound?” asked one of the men.
Then Mercy heard it. An engine.
The sound wasn’t far off and seemed to be coming closer.
“That’s a quad,” said one of the officers.
“Pair up,” Lou ordered.
Mercy and Anna automatically stepped shoulder to shoulder as they drew their weapons, and Lou gestured for them to move ahead. The other pairs of cops were sent in the same direction, sweeping forward but several yards apart.
As they moved, Mercy could hear yelling far ahead. It sounded like cheering. Did someone else find them? An eagerness quickened her steps. The forest thinned, and Mercy spotted a small clearing with a group of giant boulders in the center. Three unknown men on quads were circling the boulders, cheering and yelling obscenities at the rocks. Mercy froze and caught her breath.
They must be Kenneth Forbes’s men.
Each rider had a rifle.
This isn’t good.
She and Anna stopped behind a large pine and looked to Lou. He gestured for them to sit tight. The three pairs of searchers all waited, watching the four-wheelers’ tires send mud flying into the air.
A dog darted out from between the boulders, barking at one of the quads. A thin figure burst out and leaped at the dog, caught it around the belly, and then hauled it back to the shelter of the rocks.
Was that the teenager and his dog?
Truman has to be there too.
Mercy tasted blood as she bit her tongue to keep from calling his name.
The four-wheelers came to a stop, each one on a different side of the huge boulder pile to pin down whoever hid in the rocks. The men dismounted. Mercy could see two of them from her angle. Both carried their rifles, casually aiming them toward the rocks.
“Come out, you little shit!” one yelled at the boulders. “If you don’t get out here now, I’ll shoot your dog first and make you watch as it slowly dies.” Laughter from the other two men filled the clearing. “If you do what I say, you can be shot first so you don’t have to watch.” Peals of laughter again.
“Send out the cop,” another one yelled.
Truman.
Joy and terror shot through Mercy, and she fought to keep her focus. Lou gestured for her and Anna to watch the first man who had spoken. One set of cops moved through the trees and around the clearing to cover the man Mercy couldn’t see. Lou and his partner had the third.
Lou’s suspect aimed his rifle at the rocks and fired twice.
Mercy’s heart stopped, and her fingers tightened on her gun. Did he hit Truman?
“Police! Put down your weapons and get on the ground!” shouted Lou.
Mercy’s man spun around, his rifle pointed at the ground, searching the trees for the location of the shout. She and Anna both had him in their sights, but waited to see if he’d follow orders.
Lou yelled again, his weapon aimed at his suspect. The shooter turned and fired in Lou’s direction.
Several gunshots sounded, and Lou’s suspect fell to the ground, blood flowing from his chest and neck.
At the same time, Mercy’s man threw his rifle to the side and dropped to his stomach in the mud, his hands protecting his head.
Thank God.
No other shots came, and the officers on the other side of the rocks announced that their man was in custody. Mercy and Anna slowly left the trees, their weapons trained on the man covering his head.
As they drew closer, Mercy’s suspect whipped out his hand and lurched for his weapon. Three fast steps put Mercy at his head, her gun pointed at his skull. “Just try it,” she said in a low voice, as anger raced through her. “Your buddy has several holes in his chest. Do you want some too?”
He slowly returned his hand to the back of his head.
Mercy covered Anna as she cuffed the man. Once he was secure, she exhaled and noticed Lou and his partner checking their suspect. Lou looked her way and shook his head. He was dead. She winced in sorrow for the suspect and for the officers who had fired.
Truman. “Truman?” she shouted at the rocks, her weapon trained on the rocky hiding place. I don’t know else who might be in there.
“Mercy?”
His voice lit up every nerve receptor in her body. He’s alive. Anticipation made the gun shake in her icy hands. “Are you hurt?” Her voice cracked as she took careful steps closer to the boulders, wanting to dash between them. “The three men out here are in custody. Are there any more in the area?”
“No, just us.” A familiar tall figure limped out from the rocks, and she lost her breath at the sight of him. His face was thin and covered with two weeks of beard. His clothing and hair were filthy, but he looked stunningly beautiful to her. She holstered her weapon and ran the rest of the way, flung herself at him, and nearly knocked him down, her thigh forgotten. The only thing that mattered was him.
Finally. I’m not letting go.
His arms went around her and he clung tightly, his beard soft against her cheek. And wet. He started to shake, and she moved him to a rock to sit on and nearly crawled in his lap as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He wept, burying his face against her. A moment later he pulled back and put his right hand on her face, eyeing her hungrily. “I can’t believe it,” he muttered over and over.
“I thought you were dead,” she whispered, moving her hands to hold his face. She couldn’t stare at him enough. His face felt foreign yet familiar to her fingertips as they learned the new contours of his sunken cheeks.
“I thought I was too,” he admitted. He moved his hand to her shoulder and frantically rubbed it up and down her arm, his gaze still locked on her face. “I didn’t think I’d ever touch you again.”
His eyes were red and wet, and he continued to quake under her fingers.
“You’re not moving your left arm,” she noticed.
“I think it’s broken.”
The pain he must have suffered.
“Is the rest of you okay?” She pulled back and assessed him.
“Everything is okay now.”
“No, seriously, Truman. Are you hurt somewhere else?”
“I think I had a concussion, and I know I had a fever for a while . . . I’m a bit banged up, but my arm is the worst of it.”
“We’ll get you to a hospital.” She stood, determined to carry him out if she had to, and nearly bumped into a young man directly behind her. A small hound sat next to his feet and showed Mercy its teeth. Anna stood a few yards behind the young man, her weapon holstered, but her hand ready as she kept a careful watch on the teenager.
“Mercy,” said Truman. “This is Ollie. He saved my life.” His voice wavered. “I would be dead if he hadn’t gotten me out.” He straightened his spine and sat up, his eyes widening. “Ollie knows where to find the guys who took me. They are running a—”
“We know.” Mercy put a calming hand on his shoulder. “We’ve already arrested the three men back at the house. Joshua Forbes came in and told us where you might be. His father was one of the ringleaders.”
Truman slouched on the rock in relief. “Forbes. It seems so long ago that I pulled him over. One stupid traffic stop triggered this whole thing.” He covered his eyes with one hand and shuddered.
He’s been through hell.
“Is everyone else okay?” he asked. “My men . . .”
“Everyone is fine. Your parents and sister will be happy to hear you’ve been found.” She glanced at Lou, who had stepped away and was speaking on his radio. The message that Truman was fine should spread quickly.
“I worried what they might think,” he admitted, his dark eyes searching her face. “I worried what was going through your head too.”
“It was rough,” Mercy agreed, unwilling to share her bouts of guilt and doubt and depression. Truman had enough on his plate. She hugged him again, unable to get enough of the feel of his body. He’s safe.
“Can you drive one of those things?” Lou came back and gestured at one of the quads, raising a brow at Mercy.
“Yes.”
“Let’s get him loaded up, then, and you can ride out of here in luxury.” He glanced over at the dead body. “I’ll drive that one out, Anna can drive out the kid, and then everyone else can start walking.”
“I’m not a kid.” Ollie spoke for the first time. “And I’ll head back to my own place. I don’t need a ride.”
“No,” Truman said firmly. “You’re coming out. You and Shep will stay with me for a bit.”
Ollie looked at the ground. “That’s not necessary.”
“Yes, it is. We already discussed this.” Truman was adamant.
Mercy watched the exchange, wondering what had happened between the two of them in the woods. Truman has taken him under his wing. “Ollie, is your family close by?” she asked him. The teenager looked exactly as he’d been described by Forbes’s men. A hermit who lived in the woods.
“His family is gone,” Truman told her. “He’s going to stay with me until he gets his feet underneath him. We’ve got plans for his future.”
Ollie looks less than convinced.
But he needs help.
“I hope Shep doesn’t mind cats,” she told Ollie. “Simon is the ruling queen of Truman’s house.”
The teen finally smiled.