Shadows of the Mountain Page 13

  In fact, the agent was still grumbling. “You don’t realize what she’s capable of,” Kessler said. “I thought it was a good thing to have her along. Now I’m not so sure.”

  “What do you mean?” Jack asked, his words fading as the men walked further from the tent.

  “Just be glad she doesn’t have a knife,” Kessler muttered, his voice almost inaudible now. But Kate had heard enough.

  She turned back to Courtney, feeling the blood drain from her face. Danny’s death was a tragedy, and there’d been nothing she could have done to save him. Few people knew all the details. Kessler did though, and clearly he disapproved.

  “You look awful,” Tyra said, her puzzled gaze on Kate. “Are you feeling sick too?”

  “I’m fine.” Kate fumbled for the tent zipper. “I’m going to collect some more leaves. Be back soon.”

  There were several small meadows north of the river where she’d spotted feverfew growing, the white and yellow flower unmistakable. If the herb worked, it would be good to have some on hand. Besides, she had to get away. She could pretend Kessler’s comments didn’t hurt, but they did. And she needed breathing room.

  She stepped from the tent. Kessler and Jack were still talking, voices low, heads bent. Jack turned, his eyes holding hers. She steeled herself for his reaction, telling herself it didn’t matter. But his expression remained unreadable. Maybe Kessler hadn’t spilled the entire contents of her file. After all, the agents did everything by the book, and Jack wasn’t one of them.

  Monty walked over, his eyes concerned. “How’s she feeling?” he asked. “Will she be able to ride?”

  “Not yet,” Kate said “I’m going to pick some more leaves and just hope she can keep them down.”

  Monty’s voice lowered. “Kessler wants me to leave and scout out the horse herd. But I’m not going anywhere. I told him the horses need more grazing time.”

  Kate nodded. Kessler might be in charge of Courtney, but Monty was responsible for the welfare of the animals. More grass was a good excuse to keep the horses in camp, and the group together. Clearly there was safety in numbers.

  “I’ll take my time gathering the leaves,” she said. “Be back before lunch.”

  “Just do your magic,” Monty said. “Because someone doesn’t want that girl riding. And we need her mobile, just in case.”

  “I expect the feverfew will help. Seems the migraine really was triggered by something she ate.”

  “That’s what worries me,” Monty said. “Because you didn’t make a mistake with her food. And you know your herbs. So I trust you’ll get her feeling better soon. And I’m glad you’re so resourceful.”

  She gave him a wobbly smile. Jack might be influenced by Kessler’s whispers but Monty still believed in her. Although his faith was somewhat misplaced. He had no idea about her constant flashbacks. How hard it was to block the images of Danny and his dad, the bloody buckskin. She’d learned to control her panic attacks, but Kessler’s derogatory comments left her raw.

  “Don’t worry about that Washington dude,” Monty said. “You did what had to be done. You had some bad luck.”

  But despite her best efforts, she hadn’t been able to save them. Not Danny or his dad or any of the horses.

  She pressed her clammy hands against her jeans, feeling the perspiration beading on her forehead. Andrew had said no one wanted to work with her, including the search and rescue team. Kessler considered her a fuck-up. Maybe she did bring bad luck. Because now Courtney was writhing in a tent, too sick to ride, and Monty thought it might be necessary to hide the girl from the very men sent for protection.

  Obviously Monty knew a bit about what Kate had done. The official report stated that two hunters, along with their horses, had died after falling off a mountain ledge. Monty wasn’t the type to google anyone. But he and Sharon Barrett were very close and they obviously discussed all the employees.

  “Why did you even want me on this ride?” Kate asked. “Some of the other girls have worked for the ranch much longer.”

  Monty didn’t hesitate, not even for a second. “Because you’re brave and gutsy and will do what’s necessary. To help people as well as animals. I’m hoping we don’t need that. But we might.

  “Don’t completely trust the agents,” he went on. “And we need to know for certain if we’re being followed. So take the field glasses and check our back trail. See if you can spot anyone.”

  Now that was a job she could handle. She nodded, somewhat fortified by his belief in her, even if she didn’t have the same faith in herself. “How will I know if they’re dangerous?” she asked.

  “You’ll know,” he said.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  KATE SLIPPED MONTY’S binoculars into her backpack and hurried across the clearing, relieved to escape the tension-filled camp. She generally tried not to worry about other people’s opinions, and men like Kessler didn’t usually intimidate her, but right now she felt fragile.

  And spooked.

  Monty was too experienced to imagine danger where it didn’t exist. And the trail blazes and Courtney’s untimely migraine couldn’t be ignored. But the way Kessler and Jack were hunched together by the coffee pot also left her on edge, and not just because Kessler was probably spilling every juicy detail about the mountain wreck. There’d been friction between her and the agent before they even left the ranch.

  But Jack was different. Even Monty liked Jack. However, now it seemed as if Kessler and Jack were buddies, confidants. Maybe even co-conspirators.

  Snatching the daughter of the President was a daring plan, one that would require help as well as collateral damage. But she couldn’t picture Jack willingly hurting anyone. Not after the way he’d jumped into that rushing river to rescue Tyra, or how he’d stood beside Kate and Monty against an unpredictable grizzly.

  Of course, she’d been fooled by him before. Had thought he was interested in her only to learn he’d just been doing his job. On the other hand, he seemed genuinely attracted now. No one could fake the desire in last night’s kiss. Or could they? Maybe he was still playing her. Perhaps he’d seen her talking to Logan last night and worried that she might be telling him about the tree blazes. Certainly once Jack had sauntered up to the campfire, she’d put aside her internal debate about confiding in the agent.

  If Jack and Kessler were in collusion, the rest of them were in big trouble. Because two armed men with the element of surprise could easily overpower Logan. And she and Monty wouldn’t be able to sneak the girls away unless the danger was obvious. Even then it might be hard to convince them to leave. At the moment that was rather pointless to worry about. Because right now, Courtney couldn’t even ride, let alone run.

  Kate detoured around the grazing animals, murmuring a distracted greeting. They were busy eating the sweet meadow grass, taking full advantage of their extra grazing time. Certainly judging by their behavior, no one would question Monty’s claim that they needed more time to eat. Slider was the only horse to even raise his head. He eyed her with dismay, clearly anticipating she was here to saddle up.

  “Maybe this afternoon,” she said, pausing to give his shoulder an affectionate scratch. If the feverfew leaves worked as she hoped, Courtney would be able to ride out sooner than anyone expected. While it was comforting to be by the cooling river with its surrounding trees and multiple escape paths, the forest also reduced visibility of approaching riders. So it would be good to break camp and move on to the open grasslands of the valley.

  Logan stepped out from his watchful post by the edge of the trees. “Where are you headed?” His gaze narrowed on her backpack. “Toward the valley? To look for the mustangs?”

  “Yes. I’m hoping to spot the herd. In case we can still make the trip.”

  “How’s she feeling?” Logan’s eyes cut toward the tent. “Think she’ll be okay to ride tomorrow?”

  Kate nodded but didn’t linger. She hoped Courtney would recover much quicker than that, but both Kessler and Logan
had scoffed at the efficacy of a herbal remedy. And she wasn’t about to admit she was looking for more of the flowers...or that she was doubling back to check their trail.

  She waved goodbye to Logan and slipped into the thick woods, not changing direction until the trees concealed her movements. It was a pleasure to hike again and in the dense brush a horse would only have slowed her down. She squeezed beneath several low-hanging branches before swerving toward the morning sun, heading east and following a narrow animal trail marked by cloven hooves. Deer always found the best meadows and even better, knew the shortest way to reach them.

  Animal sign was plentiful here: bent twigs where a doe had been feeding, the oblong print of a coyote and the long narrow track of a moose. She grimaced when she crossed the trail of Bubba and the dead grizzly. Monty and Jack had dragged the body northeast, away from the river, and she was relieved not to stumble upon the bear’s pitiful carcass.

  The wind was at her back so it was unlikely she’d surprise any animals. Even so she deliberately made some noise. She glimpsed a coyote moving in the same direction as her, away from the dead bear. He’d probably been one of the first to feed on the grizzly before being chased away by more powerful predators. Judging by his speed, he was keen to leave the area, so he was definitely spooked. Maybe another bear. Or wolves. Or possibly humans.

  She paused to listen, comforted by the dense branches so close to the ground. No one would be able to ride a horse through this terrain. Even the most aggressive hiker would choose an easier route. However, the coyote had been disturbed, not bothering to hang around for leftovers. And that was unusual behavior.

  She maneuvered over a tangle of deadfall before stopping to listen again, feeling with every one of her senses. Was it her imagination or did the wind carry the faint whiff of tobacco? It wasn’t totally impossible. The Secret Service had closed off access from the ranch, but there were alternate trails from the little town to the north. There could be hikers in the area, although horseback was the preferred method since no one wanted to risk soaking their gear in the river. And few serious hikers smoked.

  She felt her pack, searching for the hard bump of the binoculars. She wouldn’t have to move very close. A quick visual was all she needed. And in this thick brush she could move faster than almost anyone, except maybe Jack.

  She squeezed through a stand of yellow pine thickened with scrub trees and low brush. The air was heavy with rotting vegetation but it was the pungent smell of cigarettes that made her freeze.

  “Put that out,” someone growled. Her heart slammed against her ribs. If the man hadn’t spoken, she would have barged into their camp.

  She dropped to the ground, pressing against the dank soil, needing a moment to steady her thudding heart. Then she cautiously lifted her head, peering around a sparsely needled tree into the tiny clearing.

  Three men sprawled in a semi-circle. One gulped from a thermos, another pulled on a cigarette, and the third man had a long rifle lying across his lap. Definitely not a standard hunting rifle. Unlike the thin-barreled shotgun Kessler kept by the panniers, the same one Jack had used to shoot the bear, this man’s rifle had a thick barrel with spiraling grooves cut into the bore. And the scabbard was camo, not hunter orange.

  “We’re five fucking miles away,” the man with the cigarette grumbled.

  “By horse trail. We’re a lot closer as the crow flies. And the old guide is sharp, probably has a nose like a bird dog.”

  “Doesn’t matter. We already know he’s unarmed. So there are only two guns we have to worry about.” But the man obediently ground his cigarette into the dirt before slapping at his neck. “Let’s go there now. Grab the girl and get back to civilization. Damn flies are sucking me dry.”

  “Not yet,” the man with the rifle said. He sat motionless, unfazed by the cloud of black flies.

  Kate’s stunned gaze shot back to his sniper rifle and she pressed closer to the ground, wishing now she wasn’t so close. Did the smell of her fire, their breakfast, linger on her clothes? Two of the men looked unaware but not the rifle man. He was watchful, patient, as if accustomed to being in the woods for long periods. And she bet his sense of smell was every bit as sharp as Monty’s.

  She inched her head to the right, painfully slow, checking out their animals and gear. Six tethered horses. Light, tall Thoroughbred types. No mules, no packs, only saddlebags. Three of the six saddles had rifle scabbards. Six saddles?

  She squeezed her eyes in horror, hit by the realization there were three more men. And she had no idea of their location. Were they behind her? One of the horses twisted against his tether, staring in her direction with pricked ears. Dammit, he was going to give her away.

  A squirrel scolded and the horse’s attention shifted to the left. Seconds later, two men emerged only thirty feet to the left of Kate. They were dressed in full camo. Even their faces were blackened. And the fact she hadn’t heard them scared her even more.

  The man with the rifle unfolded from the ground, his movement fluid. “Any developments?”

  “Piece of cake. It’ll be down to one gun, an old man and three untrained females. He couldn’t split the camp but having them together is better. Said to weigh down the bodies and dump them in the river. With luck, they’ll think he’s in the water too.”

  Kate’s body locked in horror. Black flies crawled on her cheek but she didn’t move a muscle. Couldn’t brush them away even if it was safe to move her arm. Which it most certainly wasn’t.

  “What about the horses?” the man with the rifle asked, calmly sliding it into his scabbard.

  “Shoot them. So they don’t run back to the ranch.”

  “I might check them out first,” the man with the cigarette piped up. “Swap with theirs. Or else ride our extra one. My idiot horse keeps slamming my knees into the trees.”

  “Means he doesn’t like you,” one of the camo men said, his ugly laugh sending goose bumps down Kate’s back. “But you can take your pick of horses. He’s got the communication equipment and the safety code. Figures that buys us enough time to get her to the plane.”

  The man on the ground reached into his pocket and pulled out another cigarette. “Then it doesn’t matter if I smoke now,” he said. “If their fire is going, we might even be able to grab some coffee. Probably no black flies there either.” His voice turned hopeful. “Maybe we could linger a bit. Seems a waste to snuff two broads without having a little fun first.”

  Kate squeezed her eyes shut, afraid they’d hear the frenzied beating of her heart. Everything felt loud, even the fly buzzing around her face.

  “Just don’t hurt the target. They want her undamaged.”

  “How do we know her?”

  “Dark hair, purple jacket. She’ll be the one in the tent. He slipped her some flour this morning. Bet she’ll crawl out when she hears the shots though.”

  The man on the ground sucked thoughtfully on his cigarette. “Don’t know,” he said. “My cousin is gluten free. Can’t leave the shithouse if he’s not careful.”

  The man with the ugly laugh snickered.

  “Then we better take a change of clothes for her,” the rifle man said. “She’ll be in the air for a while. Better take some of their food too.”

  That started a heated discussion about what made food gluten free, why so many Americans had celiac disease, and how all fucking needed to be kept to a maximum of five minutes.

  Kate fought her urge to bolt. For a frantic moment, she even considered creeping into the woods and hiding until the men rode out. Even if they spotted her, they wouldn’t be able to waste much time chasing her down. They were here to kidnap Courtney, put her on a plane to some foreign country...and murder all the witnesses.

  So she couldn’t just hide. She had to race back and deliver a warning. But bile rose in her throat and her heart banged a terrified staccato. Because someone in her camp was a traitor, conspiring to rob, rape and kill alongside this vicious group of men.

  And it
was a horrifying gamble trying to guess which one.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  JACK SWIPED AT HIS forehead as he stopped in front of a thicket, one so dense he doubted even a rabbit could squeeze through. It was useless trying to follow Kate’s trail any longer. She’d switched her southern route to an easterly direction and it was rough slogging. She certainly didn’t need his help if she could move through this mess. Besides, it wasn’t critical to find her. He just wanted to let her know that Courtney was feeling a bit better.

  He blew out a rueful sigh. That wasn’t quite true. He actually craved Kate’s company. The agents were bored and bickering, and he didn’t want to be stuck in camp listening to Kessler gripe about alimony payments or hear Logan’s bragging about his girlfriends. Both men resented his presence but they still seemed to prefer talking to him, rather than each other. And now that Courtney’s migraine had settled, Tyra was also chattering non-stop. Monty wasn’t a big talker, but the grizzled guide didn’t have the same appeal as Kate.

  Jack accepted he had little tolerance for annoying people. And he didn’t give a damn if they knew it. That was one of the reasons he’d started his own security company. Working alone suited him. So did a woman like Kate. And Kessler’s veiled warnings about keeping her away from knives and other sharp objects didn’t dampen his interest. Not one bit.

  He veered west, picking up the wider trail they’d used to drag the dead grizzly, and followed it back to camp. Twenty minutes later he emerged from the woods, close to the line of picketed horses.

  “Where were you?” Kessler called, his voice impatient. “And where the hell is Kate? It’s almost lunchtime.”

  “I’m hungry too,” Logan said. But neither of the two agents made a move toward the food cache. Two days in the woods had left the men stiff and sulky, and in Jack’s opinion, even more disagreeable.

  He paused by the picket line, in no hurry to join the agents. Monty had tied the horses in a neat row, as if planning to tack up. A small pack lay to the left of the saddles, one Jack couldn’t remember seeing. “You riding out somewhere?” he asked.