CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
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Coen didn’t hesitate or stop when the tracks in the snow became somewhat muddled before diverging as if someone had tried to veer off course.
Brettany?
Simone?
It was pointless to speculate whose tracks were whose.
Coen maintained the beam of his flashlight on the trail in front of him, ensuring that he took the same path. He tried to shut off all emotion. It wouldn’t do him any good, and his inner turmoil wouldn’t help Brettany in her time of need if he came apart when she needed him most.
Suddenly, there was a crack of a pistol ahead of them. The round had not been fired back in their direction, so he and Sawyer maintained their speed and tried to keep themselves from blindly running headlong into a gun battle. He hoped like hell it was Simone who had pulled that trigger.
Coen kept walking forward with no other thought than to reach Brettany. It wasn’t until he reached a point where one of the tracks veered off dramatically that he had a choice to make.
“I’ll take the individual trajectory,” Sawyer murmured so low that Coen had to strain to hear him. “Calvert and the others shouldn’t be very far behind.”
Two paths. One was thicker than the other, telling him that someone intentionally broke off from the group at a forty-five-degree angle. That made for the most difficult shot at a distance, meaning it almost certainly wasn’t Simone who’d been in possession of the weapon. Chad most likely still had the firearm, and he would have had to fire at a running target moving away from him at an angle. Chances were he hadn’t hit his mark.
Had Brettany escaped? Had Simone somehow averted Chad’s attention away from the one person he’d been trying to eliminate in his objective to throw suspicion off himself? He somehow doubted that Simone could tear Chad’s attention away from Brettany.
Coen’s hasty conclusion as to what went down over the course of these past few weeks wasn’t airtight, but it was enough to give him something to go on. Chad killed Heidi for a reason Coen couldn’t understand at the moment. Hell, it could have been an unintended result of Chad’s rash actions. He must have feared Brettany had seen something up at the campground, so he was going to finish the job…only Coen had been in the way until recently.
Had Chad been in the Dockerys’ house watching them? Had he holed up there and gotten Louise to somehow cover up his absence?
Coen walked farther into the woods, slowing his pace as the moonlight shifted and created even more fluctuating shadows within the darkened territory. He continued to step in the footprints of those in front of him, praying the path wouldn’t end in a puddle of blood…Brettany’s life spilled out onto the frozen snow.
She deserved sunshine and warmth.
Coen tamped down where his thoughts had gone. Instead, he focused on the scene in front of him and reacted to known identified targets.
Had Chad been so desperate in knowing that Martin could prove his innocence that he took matters into his own hands? How had the man known to throw suspicion on Moss? Those answers would have to wait for the time being.
Coen ignored the needs of his body as he vigilantly maintained the route laid out in front of him. He hadn’t gone back inside for his winter jacket. There just wasn’t time. Seconds at this point were imperative, and not even one could be wasted as the targets’ tracks before him maintained a steady pace into the distance. His fingers were starting to lose feeling, and his body heat was escaping rapidly.
None of that mattered, because this was nothing compared to the harsh elements he’d trained for during his time in Norway. They had learned to deal with the cold. Thirty degree temperatures became shirtsleeve weather once an individual got used to always being cold.
At least ten minutes of walking led him to a point where it was clear something had stopped the two individuals who’d made it this far. There was no set of third tracks anywhere nearby.
Coen scanned the small area in front of him where the snow was scattered all around. Someone had fallen. The disorder eventually ended where someone had scrambled to get away. His chest constricted to the point of pain. Had this been Brettany trying to escape Chad’s grasp? Suddenly, the air was split by another gunshot with a stunted report. Someone had fired at a target at close range and had hit the object fairly close to them.
A quiet rustling soon became louder, as if someone was running toward his direction. Coen instantly pressed the button on his flashlight, descending him into darkness. He closed his eyes briefly to adjust his vision quickly, listening carefully to the crashing strides getting louder the closer they came. The steps sounded too light to be a man, but then again, Chad was on the lean side.
One.
Two.
Three.
Coen stepped out from behind the large tree he had chosen as cover. He caught the bundle so small it could only be a woman, hastily spinning so that she wouldn’t be in the path of Chad if he was following close behind. He immediately recognized Brettany’s form as he slammed his back into the tree in order to help him maintain his hold on her thrashing arms. No screams, no words, no moans escaped her lips…just pure panic emanating from every part of her body. She was entirely in fight or flight mode. He needed to calm her down, but he also needed to be ready for follow-up targets.
“Brettany, it’s me,” Coen whispered harshly into her ear after he’d trapped her arms in front of her with his tight embrace. He strained to hear any sound of Chad close behind, but all he could make out was the huffs of breaths from the woman in his arms. “It’s me. I’ve got you.”
“Chad. It’s Chad,” Brett whispered as the adrenaline dissipated from her bloodstream. She leaned against him in what could only be exhaustion and somehow managed to clasp her hands over the sleeves of his shirt. “He’s the one who killed Heidi and murdered Martin.”
“I know, sugar.” Coen turned her around so that he could run his hands over her arms, using the moonlight to ensure that she wasn’t physically hurt. Was that blood on her face? Anger hit him square in the chest. “Did he hurt you?”
“No, but I can’t find Simone.” Brettany had a catch in her voice, but she held it together long enough to try and look around the large tree in the direction she came from. He held her back from any potential threat. She angrily tried to push him away. “Coen, she’s missing!”
“Sawyer is looking for her. He’s following her tracks. Where is Chad?” Coen asked, fully aware that his teammate had to be tracking Simone. In all likelihood, the agent had tried to double around and take Perkins by surprise from the flank. Brettany must have managed to escape before Simone had a chance to reach them. “Was he still behind you?”
“I-I hit him in the knees and then I chopped down into the back of his neck with a big branch.” Brettany seemed to finally draw in some air and take a moment to think over the past few minutes. He moved away the curls that kept blowing across her face, not surprised when the strands were frozen together. “He fell into the snow, and then I hit him in the back of the neck really hard. After that, I ran. He has Simone’s gun and a knife from my kitchen, but I didn’t stay to find them. I just ran.”
“That’s good, sugar. You made the right decision. Let’s get you back to the house.” Coen tried to turn her around to guide her back, but she stubbornly refused to move. She was even shaking her head adamantly while pushing against him to stop his efforts. “You’re going to get hypothermia, Brettany.”
“What if Chad gets away?”
“There’s more of a chance that he’s coming back this way searching for you, so I need to get you to safety,” Coen took time to explain. His tension eased somewhat when he caught glimpses of flashlights heading their way. “Calvert and the rest of team will search the area following our tracks. Right now, you and I are heading back to the house.”
Coen wrapped his arm around Brettany at the same time he flicked his light several times toward the oncoming line of flashlights, leading his backup to their location. She kept looking over her shoulder as they moved farther away from the tree that had given them shelter, but no one was close to them. He’d been listening very carefully, and Perkins didn’t have the training nor the skillset required to get near them without Coen knowing.
“Do we need a cleanup crew?”
Coen shook his head in response to Calvert’s question. A wide search was about to begin for the man who had killed two people and attempted to add another two victims to his body count. It was only a matter of time before Perkins was brought into custody.
“Perkins is still out there,” Coen advised, searching the area for any sign of Sawyer or Simone. “Brettany hit him in the knees and the back of his neck, but that isn’t a guarantee he stayed down. Sawyer is searching for Simone along a separate set of tracks, but he didn’t have time to grab a radio. Watch where you aim.”
Calvert, Royce, Sheriff Whitney, and three other deputes all fanned out to cover more ground. As much as Coen would love the pleasure of being the one to bring Perkins down, Brettany was his first priority. She was slowly freezing to death.
“Let’s get you home.” Coen pulled Brettany closer and pressed his lips against her head. He winced when the rigidity of her strands didn’t give an inch. “I’m proud of you, sugar.”
“I was th-thinking,” Brettany said, resting her head on his shoulder as they slowly made their way back through the path made wider by all the people now searching the woods for a murderer. “I want to take b-back the no strings, no expectations thing. I’d really like to visit that s-sunshine you like so much. I need a warm vacation.”
Coen remained silent as they walked a little farther, waiting for the usual panic and claustrophobia to set in when a woman got too close. There was a faint scent of burning wood from a fireplace mixed in with the misty, crisp fragrance of the wet fallen snow and forest, but somehow he only recognized the delicious aroma of cupcakes. Sawyer’s words came back as if he were talking in his ear right this very moment—don’t throw it away.
“I’d like that, too, sugar. Very much,” Coen replied softly, wishing he could sweep her up into his arms and carry her the rest of the way. Unfortunately, he couldn’t do that. She was technically still in danger until Perkins was brought down, and he needed to have the ability to react with his weapon. The thing of it was…she understood. She accepted him for who he was, and that was something he wouldn’t throw away. “Sunshine is only a short flight away.”