In the Shadow of Death (6 page)

“But I thought Kate said you were here to investigate Doug's disappearance.”

“I try to get away from work, but work finds me anyway.”

“And Hendrix is giving you riding lessons. First time on a horse?”

Although it had been a few years since Maggie had even looked a horse in the face, she was not going to admit this fact to Vivienne. “Just needed a few tips on range riding. The terrain I'm used to is so completely different.”

“But I thought you . . . ” Kate began.

“Point-to-point's very popular on the west coast of England,” Maggie quickly cut in. Actually, it was Maggie's sister Penelope who was the horsey one of the family, but one little white lie wouldn't hurt.

“But . . . ” Kate looked completely baffled.

Maggie had a fleeting twinge of conscience until Vivienne answered, “Range riding is far superior.” She turned to Kate. “I must go or Jerry will think that I've been abducted too.” She placed her hand on Kate's shoulder. “Call if you need my help, dear.”

With relief, they listened to the front door closing.

“Has she really known your husband that long?”

“Yes.” Kate gave a sly grin. “I think she had great plans—but I sort of spoiled things when I came on the scene.”

Maggie laughed. “Jerry is her husband?”

“Her long-suffering one,” Kate answered. “He's in a wheelchair. Fell off his horse and broke his back.”

Maggie stood up. “Do you have a survey map of the area?”

“What for?”

“Just to get my bearings.”

“There's one in Douglas' den. Come on.”

“This is great!” Maggie said later as she spread the well-worn map out on the table.

Kate stood next to her, bending over the table to point at a line on the map. “I'm not very good with maps, but I think this is the road that runs in front of our property. Yes, there's the lake on the far side. And this is the bridge we crossed last night. It's a mile or so from there to our house.”

Maggie shook her head. “I was too tired last night to notice much of anything.”

Kate continued, “And there's the road that turns left at the bridge and follows the river till it gets to that green spot. I think those wavy lines there mean mountains.” She straightened, satisfied that she had explained everything quite clearly to a very mystified Maggie.

“Do you know where your property line is?”

Kate thought for a moment. “Douglas said something about the river road.”

Maggie looked closely at the map and could see that a red pencil line had been lightly drawn following the river and the road until it reached the green area, which Maggie concluded must be a forest. At that point the road turned away from the river, which continued through the trees and into a clearing before wandering around the base of a mountain and then snaking its way north. She turned the map and read the words “Beaver Mountain” and “2462 feet.”

“Now I get it,” she exclaimed. “When the road leaves the river, it continues up to meet this track right here.” She marked the spot with an X. “That must be the track we were on yesterday?”

“Yes. That must be it.” Kate sounded relieved. “I'm glad
you
understand it.” She peered closely at the map again. “So this is the road up the mountain, then. ” She put a finger on the black line that ran part way up Beaver Mountain.“The one up to the mine.”

Maggie nodded and refolded the map. “In the morning, I'm going to take Angel out on my own. This map will be a great help.”

“On your own! Don't you want me to come with you?”

“No. I'll be fine.”

• • •

BUT IT WAS AL
that greeted her the next morning. It was his father's day off, and he had been left in charge. “Sure you're up to going out on your own?” he asked.

Maggie wasn't at all sure, but she needed to get away from the house and be completely on her own to think things out before calling Nat and committing the agency to the task of locating Kate's husband. “I won't go far.”

“Well, okay,” he answered dubiously. “Pop's left me so many chores to do . . . ”

“I'll be fine. Just help me saddle up.”

The morning air was crisp, and Angel was fresh and eager to get going. Maggie even managed a quick look back to see the trail that the horse was leaving through the dew-covered grass. She pressed her heels into Angel's flanks and headed her toward the distant hills, and it seemed no time at all before she reached the junction of the river road and the road from the ranch house. She stretched her arms above her head and then reached down into the saddle bag for the two apples and the map she had stowed there. While Maggie peered at the map and took a bite out of her apple, Angel happily chewed hers whole, the juice foaming out of her mouth. Maggie raised her head to gaze across the vast ranchlands.
There's the river
. She could see it in the distance, glinting in the morning sun. “Come on, Angel,” she said, giving the horse her apple core. “Let's get down there and have a look at the water.” Pointing Angel's nose down the incline, she pressed her knees firmly into the horse's flanks and felt a thrill as she responded with a gentle trotting. “Take it easy, old girl,” she murmured to her.

Angel quickened her pace as they neared the gurgling river, and when she reached it, stopped suddenly and bent her head to drink, causing Maggie to cling precariously to the saddle.

The dogs seemed to come out of nowhere. One moment Maggie and Angel were alone, and the next three huge German shepherds were rushing at them, snarling and baring their fangs. Trembling with fright, Angel reared back and then plunged headlong into the forest, with Maggie clutching onto the saddle for dear life. The dogs kept pace with them, snapping at the terrified horse's legs. Suddenly, there were a couple of shrill whistles, and as quickly as the dogs had appeared, they were gone.

The track, as it ran between the river and the trees with their low hanging branches, was narrow and rutted. “Whoa! Whoa!” Maggie screamed. But Angel, nostrils flaring, her ears laid back, was beyond hearing. She had but one thought, and that was to get as far away as possible. Petrified, Maggie clung to her mount's neck as the tree branches whipped and slashed at horse and rider. Head bowed, she had no way of seeing or ducking the low cedar branch, and it sent her flying backward to land on the dirt track. Angel, now free of Maggie's weight, bolted onward and out of sight.

For a while, Maggie lay on her back before daring to assess the damage. But apart from a lump quickly forming on her forehead and a dull pain in her back, there seemed nothing seriously wrong. She pulled herself to a sitting position, but had to wait several minutes for the wave of nausea to pass. Then, crawling over to the riverbank, she bathed her face in the icy cold water.

“Angel?” she called out but heard nothing. She got shakily to her feet, whimpering as her bruised back protested. She took a deep breath and willed herself to lurch forward. The trail was difficult, and Maggie could see the broken branches that the panic-stricken animal had left in her wake. She just prayed Angel had stopped running before she hurt herself seriously.

The sun never penetrated through the trees here, and the stones in the shallow river were green and slimy, the mosquitoes and blackflies numerous. As she stumbled along, batting at the insects that were making a bid for her blood, she realized what a precarious position she was in. Her head and back were throbbing, no one knew where she was, and she wouldn't know what to do for Angel if she found the horse badly hurt. She had to steel herself not to give in to self-pity. “Pull yourself together,” she said out loud. “You've got yourself in this mess, now get yourself out of it.” She followed in Angel's wake for almost half an hour before she saw sunlight ahead, and with renewed effort, she slogged toward it and out into the open.

Angel, covered in sweat and pulling at the reins that had become tangled in a thorn bush, was only about fifty feet ahead, but as Maggie approached, the horse whinnied and reared back in fright. “Easy, girl, easy.” Maggie put out a tentative hand. “You're okay,” she continued in a soothing voice. “Just let me untangle you and we'll go back.”

The horse whinnied again, the sound sending a flock of birds wheeling into the air. As Maggie watched their flight toward the steep cliffs, she realized where she was.
Black Adder Ravine
! Quickly, she untangled Angel's reins, then tethered her to a tree near the stream's edge, where she could crop the grass. Then she climbed up on a boulder to survey the area ahead. It was a lonely, quiet place, covered in huge rocks, scrub trees, bushes and a few stunted firs. She couldn't help thinking that the place could live up to its name, and that there might really be snakes hiding among the sun-warmed rocks.
So where's the Jeep?
She would have to clamber up the side of the ravine if she wanted to locate it. Gritting her teeth against the increasing pain in her back, she forced her reluctant legs to climb, sending sand and pebbles skittering to the bottom.
There it is!
It was only another hundred yards ahead.

“I'll be back, Angel,” she called.

Approaching the vehicle, Maggie realized that it was not completely upside down, but was tilted slightly off the ground by a huge slab of stone. Her mind returned to the previous day, when she had looked through the binoculars and seen the man spread-eagled on the rock beside it. The weather having remained dry, the bloodstains were still visible on its surface. Climbing around the Jeep, she spotted a flap of rubber on the front left tire.
I wonder. Of course it could have been cut on a rock on the way down, but I bet there's a bullet in there. Unless the cops have already found it.
She pushed her fingers down until she could feel the slack inner tube, but there was no sign of a bullet.

She returned to the driver's side, and kneeling on the ground, she managed to wriggle herself up into the interior to run her hands over the leather seats. By the look of the ragged hole in the driver's seat back, she realized that the bullet that killed the man must have gone right through him and into the upholstery. She reached a hand around the seat and felt along the back of it until she found a corresponding hole, then scanned the area behind the seat. There were pry marks around a hole in the frame.
The police definitely found that one.

Before backing out, she noticed a short length of leather thong dangling from the space beneath the driver's seat, and reaching up, she tugged on it. When it wouldn't come free, she reached beyond the edge of the seat, and her fingers closed over a small soft object caught in the coil springs. She tried to pull it free, but it took several minutes before she was able to get it untangled and she could hold it in her hands. Then, sliding out from under the vehicle, she examined her find—it was a small leather pouch. As her fingers went instinctively to undo the metal press studs, she heard the rattle of falling stones and looked up toward the road high above the ravine.
A deer?
Then there was a sudden glint, as if the sun had shone on a piece of glass.

Thwack! The sound made her jump. Thwack!
My God! Someone's shooting at me!
Pushing the pouch into her jeans pocket, she dived down in front of the Jeep.
But who would be shooting at me?
She crawled to the far side of the Jeep. Thwack! This time the bullet was nearer to its target. She scuttled back to the front of the vehicle. Whoever was doing the shooting knew they had her pinned down.
Okay, Nat, what do I do now? This guy must have a telescopic sight to be so accurate.
She leaned back against the radiator to assess the situation. There was nothing for it: she had to get over to the base of the cliff and out of the line of fire. She peered around the vehicle again to see what cover there was. Whang! This shot hit the metal rim of the right back wheel, leaving it slowly rotating from the force of the bullet.
If I can crawl down the left side and over to that large boulder . . .
She risked taking another quick peek and again saw the glint as the sun hit a telescopic lens.
Ah, yes. Got you. You must be hiding up there in those bushes, you son of a bitch.
She started to crawl along the left side of the Jeep toward the flat rock where the body had lain.
If I can make it to the other side of that . . .
Heart racing, limbs trembling, she counted . . .
one . . . two . . . three . . .
and lunged. The next bullet sent slivers of razor-edged rock flying into the air, making her cry out in pain as a splinter buried itself in her arm, but her lunge had taken her to the sheltered side of the rock. Again bending into a crouching position and keeping her head down, she sprinted for the thicket. Landing face first in the tangled brush, she hid there only a moment before scuttling along the base of the cliff, expecting to feel a bullet in her back at any minute. The rifle did crack again, its sound reverberating around the walls of the ravine, but the sniper had lost sight of his target. Stooping low, she raced over to where Angel was pawing and snorting at this new terror.

“Easy, easy.” Grabbing the horse's reins, she ran back to the track, through the woods, the horse trotting skittishly behind. Once they were safely hidden, she found a rock to stand on, put her foot in the stirrup and painfully hauled herself up. “Home, girl. And this time, carefully.”

She held the reins tightly as Angel picked her way back over the track, and after half an hour saw sunlight ahead where the forest petered out. “Whoa, girl.” Whoever had been sniping at her would have had time to come around the mountain and be waiting here for her. Cautiously slipping off the horse's back, she risked taking a peek. But to her relief, the person waiting for her was Al, sitting astride his mare at the junction of the two tracks and peering through binoculars in the opposite direction.

Leading Angel, Maggie urged her out into the open and started up the incline toward him. “Al!” She had to scream his name a second time before he finally saw her.