Decoy Training, page 17
Made life way harder for him, but he’d find a way to grab her.
I just have to be patient, he told himself and continued watching them.
* * *
PIPER TRUDGED ALONG the trail, Shane right behind her. As she walked, she pointed out things along the path. “See that stand of aspens over there?” she said, and Shane followed the line of her arm to gaze at the large stand of trees halfway up a nearby hillside. “They call that stand a ‘clone’ because the aspens grow by sprouting from their roots so they all have the same DNA. In the fall they’ll be an amazing gold color against the evergreens.”
The trees were a bright spring green now, still obvious among the darker shades of the evergreens. As he watched, a bald eagle flew off from the branches and swooped down toward the river along the trail they were hiking.
“Beautiful sight,” he said, but as he followed the path of the eagle, his gaze skipped to Piper and he thought, Even more beautiful.
“I hope to see that gold,” he said, but then wished he had bit his tongue because he wouldn’t be in Jasper in the fall.
She slowly tilted her head up to meet his gaze. “I hope you do, too.”
But then she was quickly plowing ahead along the trail, until she held her hand up to stop them. He was about to say something, only she held an index finger to her lips to quiet him. “Shh. Mule deer.”
Far ahead of them, a mule deer was slaking its thirst along the river’s edge. Its black-tipped tail and large ears, similar to a mule’s, were different from the white-tailed deer he’d seen growing up in Pennsylvania and around the training center in California.
The deer must have sensed them. It raised its head to stare in their direction and then bolted toward the hillside.
“They stay down in the valley during the winter but will head up to the higher elevations during the summer,” Piper explained.
“Is there much hunting in this area?” he asked, tracking the deer as long as he could until he lost sight of it in a thick stand of trees.
Sadness filtered into her gaze, animal lover that she was. “The mule deer population is down in this area, so Fish and Game issued fewer permits in the hopes of building their numbers.”
“Sounds like they’re trying to protect them,” Shane said, and Piper nodded and offered up a reluctant smile.
“They are. Idaho Fish and Game also operate nearly two dozen hatcheries to raise all kinds of fish in order to stock our rivers and lakes, including sockeye salmon, which are endangered. Luckily they’ve had some success with steelhead and other kinds of salmon.”
“When I was growing up, we had a small pond near our house. Town used to stock it with trout and my dad and I would go fishing,” Shane said, smiling as memories of those idyllic times streamed back.
“Looks like they were good memories. We could try some salmon fishing later this week if you want. Catch and release, though,” Piper said and started moving along the trail again.
“I’d like that.” They hadn’t gone more than half a mile when they caught sight of someone fly-fishing along the edges of the river. He waved as he saw them, and they waved back and kept on walking until they hit a section of the river that was shallow enough to traverse.
They crossed over and his storm boots kept his feet dry, but there was no denying the cold of the water streaming down the river. The rocks were slippery and as Piper wavered a little, he reached out to keep her steady. A glint of something high up on the hillside caught his eye, like sun bouncing off glass or metal.
Like someone watching, maybe? he thought and hurried Piper across the stream and into the protection of the trees and underbrush on the opposite edge of the riverbank.
The earlier happiness he’d been feeling vanished, replaced by watchfulness as they did the walk back to his pickup.
“You okay?” she asked as they neared his vehicle, obviously sensing the change in his mood.
Not wanting to worry her, he said, “Just a little tired. It’s been a long time since I’ve done a hike this long.”
She eyed him up and down and did a little shake of her head. “Not like you’re out of shape.”
He faked it, reaching up to rub his injured shoulder. “Acts up at the weirdest times.”
Her wrinkled brow said that she wasn’t quite buying it, but he wasn’t going to push it because he’d never been a good liar. Actually, he’d never been any kind of liar.
“Time to go home, then,” she said and got into the pickup after he unlocked the doors.
“Maybe we can stop in Jasper for an early dinner?” he said as he pulled out and drove along the road in the direction of town, heading west before then heading north toward Piper’s house and the DCA.
“You’re still hungry after that lunch we ate?” Piper said with a laugh.
The roast beef sandwiches, salads and cookies that Millard’s had packed for their picnic had been satisfying, but if someone was watching them, a stop in a more populated area like Jasper might make for a safe haven until he could confirm if they were being followed.
“Fresh air always makes me hungry,” he said and looked in the rearview mirror to see if anyone was behind them. Two cars way in the distance, but no blue pickup.
It had probably been nothing on the hillside.
They had barely gone another few miles and were still a goodly distance from Jasper when he spied a woman and dog lying on the side of the road. She started waving her hand in the air as they neared, and Shane had no choice but to pull over and see what was happening.
* * *
PIPER HOPPED DOWN from Shane’s pickup and raced over to the woman and dog.
The woman’s right leg was at an awkward angle and the dog was bleeding and breathing heavily.
Piper kneeled beside the dog and laid a hand on its side, trying to gauge the extent of its injuries. The dog’s muscles trembled beneath her hand as the woman said, “We were hiking back to our car when someone sideswiped us. My dog took the brunt of the hit.”
Shane had squatted beside the woman to check out her leg. “It looks broken. We can try to get you in the bed of the pickup.”
The woman shook her head. “My hip, too. Something’s wrong there, but I can’t feel anything. My leg...hip, everything feels numb.”
Piper exchanged a worried look with Shane. “We’ll call for help,” she said, then whipped out her phone to dial 911 and gave them the information on their location and situation.
“My dog. His name is Longmire. He’s hurt bad. You’ve got to get him help,” the woman said and tried to reach for him, but screamed as she moved, the numbness possibly starting to wear off.
“Lie down and relax. We’ll take care of Longmire for you,” Shane said and urged the woman to lie down. He took off his jacket and placed it over the woman to keep her warm.
With a tilt of his head, he urged Piper away from the pair.
In a low whisper that only he could hear, she said, “The dog needs immediate care or he might not make it.”
“We can’t leave her alone,” Shane said and shot a quick glance at the woman.
Piper tilted her head in the direction of his pickup. “You can load him into the bed, and I’ll take him to Marie’s.”
He shook his head. “It’s not safe for you to go alone. Let me take him.”
“It’s not more than ten miles and you don’t know the way to the vet,” she said, but he shook his head again and she narrowed her eyes to scrutinize him. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”
Chapter Twenty
Shane peered up and down the road and Piper did the same, but there was no one in the vicinity.
“No, there’s nothing wrong, just... Keep an eye out. We haven’t found Parker yet,” he said.
“I will keep an eye out, I promise,” she said and held her hand out for his keys.
He handed them to her. “I’ll go get the dog. There’s a blanket in the back seat you can lay out to make him more comfortable.”
She opened the door, reached in and got the blanket, which she spread in the bed of the pickup. Shane walked over with the dog, who was whining with pain. She ran a hand over his side, trying to calm him. “Easy, boy. You’re going to be okay.”
“Call me as soon as you get there,” he said and brushed a kiss across her cheek.
She nodded. “I will.”
Shane hurried back to the woman to take care of her, and Piper rushed to the pickup and took off down the road.
She hadn’t gone more than a mile or so when she spotted the ambulance on the way to where Shane waited with the woman.
Barely half a dozen miles later, she caught sight in the rearview mirror of a white Jeep barreling toward her quickly. Too quickly.
Slowing, she pulled over slightly to let them pass since they were in such a rush. The wheel jerked in her hand a little as the tires hit the softer dirt along the edge of the road.
The Jeep rushed past her, but when she pulled back onto the road, the Jeep suddenly veered in front of her, blocking the way across the street.
She jerked to a rough stop, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as the driver of the vehicle got out.
He had on a baseball cap and sunglasses hid his eyes, but she didn’t need to see them to know something wasn’t right about him.
She put the car in Reverse, intending to get away, when his hand whipped up and he trained a gun in her direction.
“I wouldn’t do that, Piper. I’m an excellent shot.”
* * *
SHANE STOOD BY impatiently as the EMTs worked on the woman, stabilizing her for transport to Jasper Memorial, which luckily wasn’t all that far from town. Nearly fifteen minutes had gone by since Piper had driven off, and an uneasy feeling filled his gut.
She should be in Jasper by now, he thought. Maybe she was helping the vet with the dog. Maybe Marie wasn’t there, and Piper was waiting for her. Maybe, maybe, maybe, he thought, wanting to get to Jasper and Piper, only he didn’t have a ride.
Ava and Brady pulled up in their cruiser minutes later and there was still no call from Piper.
“Shane,” Ava said and both she and Brady dipped their heads in greeting.
“Ava. Brady,” he said and glanced back toward the EMTs as they finally loaded the woman onto the gurney and walked with her toward the ambulance.
“Where’s Piper? We thought she was with you when she called in the accident,” Ava said and looked all around.
“Lady had a dog that was badly hurt. Piper took the pickup to take him to Marie in town.”
“What can you tell us about what happened here?” Brady asked.
One of the EMTs called out, “We’re taking her in, Lieutenant Nichols. You can meet us at Jasper Memorial.”
“We’ll meet you there shortly,” Ava responded.
“Shane?” Brady asked again.
“Piper and I were driving back to Jasper when we saw the woman and the dog on the side of the road. We stopped and she told us that a car had sideswiped them. We called it in to get her help. Piper took the dog, and she hasn’t called me yet from the vet’s,” Shane said.
Brady did a quick look at his watch. “She should have been to Marie’s by now.”
“Can we get going?” Shane asked and pointed to the cruiser.
“Sure,” Ava said, and they rushed to the police car and hurried off, Shane in the back seat, nervously bouncing his legs while Ava drove.
“How long ago did she leave?” Brady asked.
“Too long. At least twenty minutes. Maybe more,” he said and then something hit him. “Didn’t you pass her on your way here?”
Ava shook her head and met his gaze in the rearview mirror. “We were just coming back from McCall. We got a call that they’d found the blue pickup—”
“The one Parker was driving?” Shane pressed.
“The one we believe Parker was driving. We went to check it out and see what other information we could get,” Brady said.
Which meant Parker was driving some other kind of vehicle. Maybe even one of the ones he’d seen behind them after they’d left the trail near the Salmon River.
He mumbled a curse, but then the two officers did as well, making him lean forward to see what was going on.
His pickup. Sitting by the side of the road.
They pulled up next to it.
No sign of Piper and the dog was still in the bed of the pickup.
They hopped out of the cruiser and hurried to the front of his car.
There were signs of a skid mark across the road, as if a car had suddenly stopped in the path of the pickup.
As Shane examined the black marks, he noticed that there were some tire tracks along the softer dirt at the edge of the road. He gestured to them. “Another car. Across the road.”
Ava and Brady walked over to the tire tracks to take a look and he joined them. “We saw tire tracks near Piper’s house, but something’s a little different.”
Brady kneeled down for a closer inspection. “Pickup and Jeep might both use the same tires, but the wheelbases are different. This isn’t a pickup. The wheelbase isn’t wide enough. Probably a Jeep. Narrower, but we’ll know once we measure and cast the tire impressions.”
“But first we need to put a BOLO out for Piper and get some backup to take that dog to the vet,” Ava said, then grabbed her radio and called it in.
Shane cursed, loudly and more vehemently as he raked his hand through his hair and paced away from where the two officers were reviewing the scene.
The crime scene.
Parker had grabbed Piper and he wasn’t about to just sit there and do nothing.
“We need to get going,” he said and moved toward his pickup, but Ava held up a hand to stop him.
“We need to process the scene and do this logically,” she said, and while he knew she was right, it didn’t make the delay any easier to bear.
“Okay. We do this your way,” he said even though he was itching to get moving.
* * *
PARKER HAD KNOCKED HER out with the gun butt when she’d stepped out of Shane’s car.
Or at least she assumed it was Parker, even though he looked different from the driver’s license photo the police had shown them.
She woke up with a gag stuffed in her mouth and secured in place with a bandanna. Her wrists were duct-taped behind her back, which made it impossible for her to do anything like reach for the door handle in order to escape.
But her legs were free.
She carefully watched the scenery going by, looking for landmarks that might help her make her way back toward Jasper if she got free.
Not if, when, she told herself.
And when she did, she’d have to make her way down the mountain. That much she knew: he was taking her up into the mountains.
It was the growing chill of the air that had roused her into consciousness. The jacket she had worn for the hike was too lightweight for the higher elevations, especially since there was snow on the ground where he was taking them.
Probably one of the many vacation cabins that sometimes sat vacant for weeks, even months depending on the owner’s tastes for either skiing, hiking or rafting.
Judging from the silhouette of the mountain crests, he’d kept on going north, but had probably detoured around Jasper to hide from the authorities. That meant he’d also passed by the general vicinity of her home and the DCA.
Hope blossomed that, if she could escape, she could reach either her home or the canine academy.
But as the Jeep slipped on a slushy patch on the road, it warned her that escape on foot could be treacherous. The snow would make footing precarious, and she wasn’t properly dressed for any time in the cold.
Another half hour passed, and her arms and shoulders complained from their awkward position pinned behind her.
She was relieved when Parker finally pulled up in front of a log cabin. Not one of the nice vacation places. A ramshackle cabin whose roof looked ready to cave in on one side. The glass in several windows was broken, but someone had done temporary repairs by taping plastic over the holes. A small pile of firewood was haphazardly placed by the front door, but it wouldn’t be enough to last the night.
Parker killed the engine and climbed out of the Jeep.
He yanked her door open and roughly jerked her from the seat. She stumbled and fell. He lost his grip on her and she figured this was as good a chance as any to escape.
Before he could grab her again, she crab-walked away from him and somehow managed to get to her feet. But she had only taken a step or two when Parker tackled her to the ground, the weight of his body driving her breath from her.
Darkness danced around the edges of her periphery from the lack of air. Pain seared the muscles of her arms as Parker hauled her to her feet.
“Not smart, Piper. Not smart,” he said and half dragged, half carried her into the cabin, where he sat her in a chair that creaked and groaned, as if ready to break. When she tried to rise, he pulled out the pistol and said, “Don’t. I will shoot you.”
She peered at the gun and then at Parker. Her heart galloped in her chest and a cold sweat erupted across her body, chilling her thanks to the lack of heat in the cabin. Nodding, she quieted in the chair and sat patiently while Parker duct-taped her feet to the chair legs. Then he wrapped the tape around her body and the chair, dimming any hope she had of getting free and making an escape.
When he was done, he pulled off the bandanna and took the gag from her mouth, but warned, “Scream and I’ll shoot you.”
Feigning a bravado she didn’t really feel, she said, “If you do, you won’t find out what I know about the relics.”
