Every Step She Takes (Who's Watching Now Book 2) (13 page)

Wylie’s low growl snapped her to attention. A man stood in the middle of the trail a short distance ahead, a black and red pack like the one she’d carried strapped to his back. Before she could dive for cover, he turned. With a wave, Archer Nielsen called her name.

“Grace, what a surprise. I didn’t expect to run into you out here.”

She stopped a few yards away, wondering if she could outrun him. Her adrenaline was pumping, but her muscles were fatigued and weak. Maybe he was as innocent as his shy smile and pink cheeks suggested.

“Are you just heading out?”

“Actually, I’m on my way back to the lodge.” His gaze strayed down the trail past her. “I thought you were camping with Barnett?”

She rested a hand on Wylie’s head when he growled again. “How did you know I was with Travis?”

“Guthrie mentioned it, said the lodge was experiencing a mass exodus.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, shortly after you and Barnett left, I decided to hike this peak I’d heard about, some unpronounceable Indian name, but I got lost. Ended up wandering in a big fu…er, frigging circle. I guess I need a guide.”

“Isn’t that what Mitch Cannon does?”

“Yeah, but the guy irritates me. Anyway, Andy Smith headed out right before me, said he was going up to some lake to fish for a few days.”

“What’s wrong with fishing in Moose Lake?”

“Haven’t a clue.” He flashed another shy smile. “Do you want to walk back with me?”

She nodded.
What choice do I have?
Still, picturing this kid as a seasoned killer stretched her imagination to the limit. She eyed his lean physique as they set out. He did have the right build, and Travis had said not to trust anyone…

“Who’s your friend?”

“Huh? Oh, that’s Wylie. I fed him pretzels a few days ago, and he adopted me.”

“Looks like he’ll bite if I so much as lay a finger on you.”

“He probably will. He bit Travis.”

Lifting his hands in the air, he gave the dog a cautious look. “I promise not to touch.”

“Smart decision.”

“So, did you and Barnett have a fight or something?”

It was a reasonable excuse, but then she’d have to pretend to be mad at him once they were together again. She was almost certain her acting skills weren’t up to the job.

“No, he wanted to try some rock climbing, and frankly, I’d had enough of roughing it. I headed back alone, thought I could make the trip in one day.” She grimaced. “Didn’t happen, and a bear ripped up my pack last night, so I left it.”

“The dog didn’t scare away the bear?”

“Wylie isn’t stupid. He knows he’s no match for a grizzly, or a black bear or whatever it was. I cowered in my sleeping bag until the bear finished its midnight snack and left.”

“Sounds like quite an adventure.”

“Yeah, one I don’t plan to repeat. As soon as Travis gets back, I’m out of here.”

“What about your story?”

Her heart stuttered then raced out of control. She pressed a hand to her chest. “My what?”

His brow creased. “The one you’re writing about fishing camps.”

The breath left her lungs in a whoosh. “I talked to Berta the night we arrived. A few more questions for Guthrie, and I’ll have what I need.”

He nodded. “I’m not sure how much longer I’ll stay, either. I used to love camping out when I was a kid. I had this tree fort.” He shrugged. “I’m a little bored. I thought this would be a fun way to spend the last couple of weeks before my new job starts, but…”

“But what?”

His cheeks flushed with color. “You’re the most interesting person out here, and if you’re leaving…”

She smiled. “That’s very flattering, but Travis and I sort of have a thing going.”

His eyes darkened. “You can’t blame a guy for trying.” He slowed and stopped, turning on a booted heel. “Did you hear something?”

The hair rose on Wylie’s back, and he growled. The bushes near the trail rustled as a man pushed through them. Andy Smith stopped, eyes widening before his lips parted in a broad smile.

“I thought I’d never get back to the main trail, and now I have company, too.”

Archer’s tense shoulders slumped. “Christ, I was sure you were a bear.”

“No, just an idiot who decided to bushwhack rather than take the long way around.”

Grace hushed Wylie, and the dog’s low growl ceased. “Is that how you got those scratches?”

He touched his cheek. “Yep. The vegetation is thick in places. I was hoping to save some time with a short cut. I have a beautiful rainbow trout, freshly caught this morning, in my pack, and I don’t want it to spoil.”

“We can’t be more than an hour from the lodge. Let’s hope it keeps that long.”

Archer’s lips were tight, probably with irritation because their
tête-à-tête
had been interrupted. Grace glanced between the college boy and the fisherman. One of them had shot at her last night then ditched the rifle or dismantled it and stuffed the pieces in his pack. Who was lying? Which one was a killer? Her hand shook as she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. At least there was safety in numbers. She
hoped
there was safety in numbers.

“Grace.”

She turned and swayed as relief slammed into her. Travis stood behind them on the trail, his shirt torn and bloody, a square bandage covering his shoulder. One hand hovered near his hip, and his gaze drifted between the two men at her side. Behind him, Sutton sagged against a spruce tree, eyes closed.

“You’re hurt.” The words slipped out, and Grace wanted to kick herself. She rushed on before he could answer. “Did you fall rock climbing?”

“Yeah, I found Mark bloody and battered then slipped and cut myself on a chunk of granite hauling him out.”

Hurrying to his side, she shook her head at the question in his eyes and spoke in a whisper. “It’s one of them, but I don’t know which one.” She raised her voice. “Can your friend make it back to camp?”

Casey opened his eyes. They were red-rimmed with exhaustion and pain. “I can make it.”

“My God, what happened?” Andy Smith stepped forward. “You look ready to collapse. Let me help you.”

“I’ve got him.” Travis wrapped his left arm around Sutton’s waist. “Let’s keep moving.”

“It’s a good thing you found him.” Archer fell in step beside Grace and glanced over his shoulder at the injured man. “He’s lucky he didn’t die of exposure.”

“We were both lucky. I thought you’d be back at the lodge by now, Grace.”

“I ended up camping last night. Then a bear ripped up my pack.”

He grimaced. “We left ours.”

Andy turned and glanced back from his position in the lead. “Guthrie isn’t going to be happy about that.”

“Too bad.”

“I’m just relieved you and—Mark is it?—are both okay.”

“Mark Johnson, the buddy I told you about. Mark, this is Grace Hanover, Archer Nielsen and Andy Smith. We all arrived together at the lodge shortly after you left on your hike.”

Sutton grunted.

Travis’s gaze locked with Grace’s. “This certainly turned into quite a party.”

“I ran into Archer a little while ago, and then Andy found us. In a wilderness this large, it does seem a little odd we’d all end up in the same place at the same time.”

Travis looked from one man to the other, and his hand moved to rest on his hip where a lump showed beneath the hem of his shirt. “Quite a stroke of fate. Too bad I’ve never been a big believer in coincidence. Let’s go.”

Un-fucking-believable! His target shuffled along the trail, mere yards away, and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. He’d shoot Sutton and the other three without a qualm, but there was no doubt in his mind Barnett would put a bullet in his brain the second he reached for his weapon. If the dog didn’t tear out his throat first. The mongrel’s attention, focused and unblinking, gave him the willies.

He’d have to wait until they got back to the lodge. Surely there would be an opportunity to catch Sutton alone for two seconds and stick a knife between his ribs. If not, he’d settle for the confusion and congestion of the air terminal when they transferred planes in Anchorage or exited in Seattle. Unless the feds had a private jet on standby to whisk their witness away. He was betting against it.

The key was not to panic. He’d stay calm and wait for his chance. Only after he’d disposed of Sutton would he track down Grace, shoot her then dump her body in the freaking ocean. He should have done it long ago, but that time in his life was something he didn’t dwell on. Now that she’d brought back all the pain and anger, he would give his brother the justice he deserved. Clean and neat and tidy, just the way he liked it.

No loose ends.

* * * *

Grace was happier to reach the big, old lodge at Moose Lake than she’d ever been arriving at a five-star hotel. Practically skipping up the steps, she crossed the wide porch, paused to give Berta a hug then hurried inside. All she cared about at the moment was the safety of her room and a hot bath. Let Travis explain why three backpacks had gone missing. Let him deal with questions regarding his and Casey’s bloody condition. Nothing would keep her from immersing herself in steaming water scented with lavender.

A pathetic whine stopped her just short of the stairs. Slowly she turned. Wylie’s nose pressed against the screen door. Sad eyes stared at her.

Well, maybe one thing.

“Grace, do you know where that animal came from?”

With a sigh, she retraced her steps and opened the door. “He’s a stray. At least he used to be. Now, I guess he’s mine.” Bending, she laid a hand on Wylie’s head. He quivered beneath her touch. “Berta, meet Wylie. Would you mind very much if he stays in my room tonight?”

The innkeeper’s eyes softened when the dog glanced up at her with a look of desperate pathos. “He’s sweet. Filthy, but sweet.”

Her dream of a hot water and bubbles faded. “I suppose I could give him a bath first.”

“Our old Labrador died last winter, but I think I still have a bottle of dog shampoo in the laundry room. There’s a hose you can use on the east side of the building. I’ll meet you out there.”

“Sounds like a plan.” When Berta went inside, Grace sighed again. “Hear that, Wylie, bath time. Too bad it’s for you instead of me.”

Travis and Casey had remained in the yard talking to Guthrie. Both Andy and Archer were nowhere around. She met Travis’s gaze and raised a questioning brow. He grimaced and shrugged.

“When does the next plane leave Moose Flat?”

“Not until tomorrow at ten. We can use the landline in the lodge to book our flights.”

“Swell. Do you mind reserving me a spot while you’re at it? Don’t forget to mention I’ll be transporting a soon to be squeaky clean dog.”

Guthrie cleared his throat. “You’ll need a carrier to take him on a plane.”

Another damned obstacle. She’d held it together while bullets whizzed by her head. She hadn’t cracked when a thwarted killer ran past her on the trail. She wasn’t going to lose it over a stupid dog carrier. Blinking back tears, she pressed her lips together and counted to ten. “Any suggestions?”

“I think I have one in the shed.”

“Great.” Crisis averted. Again. “Come along, Wylie. The sooner you’re washed, the sooner I can have that bubble bath I’ve been fantasizing about.”

The dog was surprisingly docile while she hosed him down then lathered him up with the shampoo Berta handed her. Head hanging and tail drooping, the animal patiently waited for her to quit torturing him. She was on the final rinse when Travis walked around the side of the building.

“Almost finished?”

She nodded. “Where’s Casey? Should you leave him alone?”

“Judith is taking a look at his wound. She’s a nurse, so she knows what she’s doing. I’m afraid more extensive treatment will have to wait until we get to Seattle. I told our host the whole story, and he’ll make sure neither of our suspects gets near Sutton.” Travis ran a hand through his hair. “Guthrie plans to hike out tomorrow with Mitch to retrieve our packs, or what’s left of them, so I’m afraid you won’t be getting your clothes back before we leave.”

“I can live without them. What about your shoulder? Casey isn’t the only one who got shot.”

He shrugged. “It’s nothing. I’ll get a dose of antibiotics once I’m home. By the way, lunch is almost ready.”

“I think I’ll take a sandwich to my room. I want a bath, too.” After turning off the faucet, she released Wylie. The dog shook then shook again before running to the center of the lawn to drop and roll.

“Why are you so certain the shooter is either Andy or Archer?”

She dried wet hands on the seat of her damp pants. “Because the sniper ran past me last night with a rifle slung over his shoulder. I didn’t get a good look at him since I was cowering in a bush, but he was too tall for Alma and too thin for Lou. Mitch is the right size, but since he’s been at the lodge for several weeks, I figure he isn’t a suspect.”

“I contacted Fritz and put him to work identifying the assassin. He’ll know everything there is to know about both men by the time we get off that flight tomorrow. Until then, I suppose Sutton is my new roommate.” His gaze left her face and drifted downward. “Too bad. I’d rather bunk with you.”

Arms crossed over her wet shirt, she gave him a weak smile. “I’m too tired to be much fun, anyway. Bending down she retrieved her jacket. The recorder in the pocket thumped against her hip. “Besides, I have a story to write.”

“Grace, I meant what I said about seeing you after we leave here.”

Walking side by side, they strolled around the lodge toward the front porch. “I know you did. Right now you’ve got Sutton to deliver, and my editor will probably make me sit down with the paper’s legal team before we print anything. Let’s see how it goes, okay?”

He held the screen open. “Sure, but you’ll be hearing from me.”

“I know that, too.” Wylie slunk through the door behind them. Giving Travis a final smile, she headed toward the kitchen with her shadow. Berta glanced up from the pot she was stirring. The aroma of simmering vegetables and herbs made Grace’s mouth water.

“Can I take a bowl of whatever ambrosia you’re cooking to my room?”

“Minestrone. Sure.” She nodded toward Wylie. “He looks much cleaner.”