Edge of the Enforcer (36 page)

He wasn’t far enough out. Frantically, Lindsey swung in a sideways curve around the door frame, aiming blindly. The log hit his forehead with a horrible noise like thumping a watermelon.

Boneless, he fell backward, and the back of his skull struck the small toilet. Blood ran from his forehead in rivers of red.

Roaring sounded in Lindsey’s head, getting louder and louder. She saw Victor’s body, his chest covered in red. Eyes open. Not moving.

Black danced at the edges of her field of vision.

“No fainting, girlfriend.” A hand grasped her shoulder and dragged her from the bathroom door. “Got to move,” Becca whispered.

A shudder shook Lindsey, and she swallowed convulsively. “Okay. Okay.”

Outside the cabin, Parnell was shouting to Morales, “Back up a few more inches.” They weren’t done. Yet.

She looked at Becca. Ansel had quieted, happy to be carried again. He had a lock of Becca’s hair in his little hand.

No matter what happened, Ansel must live. Becca too. Their escape first. “Listen, Becca. You’re going to sneak out the door. Stay by the wall, go around the side. The car is a ways out; they won’t see you.”
I hope, I hope.

“They’ll find us. Track us,” Becca protested. Nonetheless she handed Lindsey the baby and donned her coat.

“They’re gonna be chasing
me.
Your job is to keep Ansel safe
.
” She put the squirming baby into Becca’s arms. “He’s what matters.”

“I can’t let you—”

“You must.” Zander hadn’t wanted Lindsey to be bait. To be used. And here she was, using herself as bait now—and it was okay. This was right. “No time to argue.”

Conflict warred in Becca’s face until Lindsey touched Ansel’s soft, pink cheek and whispered, “You have to, Becca.”

“Okay,” Becca whispered back. “Good luck.”

“And to you.” Lindsey opened the door a crack, hoping the light didn’t show through the snowfall. She heard the men’s voices but saw only snow. “Go.”

Becca slipped out and disappeared around the side of the cabin.

Give her a minute to get away.
Lindsey yanked on Ricks’s giant parka and snatched her knife off the floor. Her mouth was so dry she couldn’t swallow. She could sneak out like Becca. Not be seen.

Except…Becca’s tracks were obvious in the fresh snow. Parnell would catch her and Ansel within minutes.

I don’t want to die.

Her daddy whispered in his pretend John Wayne voice,
All battles are fought by scared men who’d rather be someplace else.

He’d expect her to do what was right; she wouldn’t let him down. This was her battle. Pulling in a breath, she shoved the door wide open. It hit the back wall loudly.

“Shit, she’s loose!”

Grateful the two men were blocked by the car, she dashed straight down the road.
Please God, let help be coming.

“Goddamn cunt.”

“Puta
.
”

Two voices cursing. Her plan had worked—both men were after her.
Run, Becca. Get away.

The powdery snow was almost silent under her feet as she tore down the barely visible road, trying to stay in the half-filled tire tracks. She slipped and staggered back into a run.

When she went around a curve, she dared a glance over her shoulder. Nothing but falling snow.

Now.
She jumped sideways onto a downed tree trunk and launched herself into the forest. She landed hard and rolled behind a tree. Why the heck couldn’t there be more underbrush? Who ever heard of a neat and tidy woods, all tree trunks and snow?

Harsh breathing. Low cursing. She heard them despite the muffling effect of the falling snow.

As she held her breath, they ran past on the road. They hadn’t seen where she’d jumped from the tire tracks to the tree trunk.

She lay for a moment, gasping in the thin mountain air. It was a reprieve—a short one. When they didn’t overtake her in the next few minutes, they’d retrace their steps, watching for where she left the road.

Her tracks would be there, easy to spot once they’d slowed down.

Still—they were focused on her.
Please, God, let Becca and the baby get to safety.

Chapter Twenty

Peering through the windshield into white and more white, deVries cursed the snow.

Hands on the steering wheel, Stanfeld gave a grunt of agreement. “Good thing my sedan’s got all-wheel drive or we’d be really screwed.”

No, they’d be in a fucking ditch, deVries thought.

A Jeep approached from ahead, flashed its lights, and stopped. Logan stepped out.

Even before Stanfeld had finished braking, deVries was opening his door.

“No news. Got a missing renter—his car’s still there. He isn’t,” Logan said, his voice tight and controlled. “DeVries, drive the Jeep. I’ll spot for Stanfeld, and we’ll check the east side roads.”

His face was strained with worry. Soon after they’d started the search for Lindsey, Logan had called, asking if anyone had seen Becca and Ansel.

An officer had found Becca’s car abandoned in town. Children building a snowman had noticed an unfamiliar car on the road toward the lodge. Becca had been crying and in the backseat next to a strange man.

Masterson said there were hunting cabins scattered all over and had stayed in town to question the rental management firms about recent activity.

DeVries and Stanfeld had hoped to locate any recently used dirt drives. It sucked that they could barely spot
any
roads through the thickly falling snow.

“I need someone to watch for me,” deVries protested as he slid into the Jeep.

“That’s my job,” Dixon said from the backseat.

“And mine,” Kallie said from the passenger side.

DeVries stared at Kallie. Bundled in a thick parka, she looked like a child, dammit. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I know where the cabins are and the roads and what fresh tracks look like even when they’re half-covered with snow.” She gave him a scowl. “Now drive. Slow.”

He opened his mouth, thought better of it, and put the car into gear. Wasn’t she supposed to be at the Masterson’s place with her husband? “How’d you get here?”

She rolled down the glass and hung out the window like a dog. Her answer came back to him distorted by the snow. “Rona and I took Jake up to the lodge so Logan could search. But my Jeep’s better on icy surfaces than Logan’s truck, and I figured I’d better help.”

“Jake okay with this?”

“Hell, no. He cursed up a blue streak. He doesn’t want me here and thought he should come himself.”

DeVries heard her snort and had a moment’s sympathy for her husband.

In the sedan, Logan had taken the backseat behind Stanfeld.

“He wants you to make a U-turn and go in front. They’ll bring up the rear,” Kallie said.

“Got it.” DeVries turned the Jeep around and took the lead. He understood the arrangement when the sedan followed on the wrong side of the road, giving Logan a closer look at the left bank.

Foot by foot, they moved forward. Once the sedan slid back behind deVries’s to let a car pass. A couple of miles later, a truck came from the other direction, and the driver reduced speed long enough to exchange waves.

“That’s the vet,” Kallie commented. “Probably making a house call. He sure cut it close. The roads are going to be impassable soon.”

“Fuck,” deVries muttered.
Where are you, Lindsey?
Worry and fury roiled inside his chest. He’d kill them when he found them. If they hurt her, hurt Becca. Jesus, the baby was out in this shit somewhere.

“Why isn’t Virgil here?” Kallie asked.

“Masterson and Ware stayed in town to make calls. They’re looking for new rentals.”

“Got it.” She leaned out so far he grabbed the back of her coat to ensure she didn’t fall out. “Slow down. There’s a road around here.”

“There.” Dixon pointed, and deVries braked.

Kallie jumped out.

Before he could get out, she’d popped back in. “Hasn’t been used today.”

Seeing her shiver, he turned the heater to high and drove on.

Mile after mile. Stop after stop. How many damned cabins were in these mountains? Fucking hunters. He growled under his breath, stared at the side of the road until his eyes burned, and forced his impatience down.
Hang on, Lindsey.

“Stop.” Kallie got out to check another tiny road. She knelt and ran her hands over the lumpy snow. From where he was, deVries saw no difference in the blanket of white.

She waved him in.

After flashing his brakes to get Stanfeld’s attention, he shut his lights off and turned onto the small single-lane road.

Stanfeld drove in behind him.

Logan jogged past and crouched down beside Kallie, sweeping snow away with his gloved hand.

As deVries stood by the car, Stanfeld and Dixon joined him.

“What do you see?” Stanfeld asked Kallie.

She looked up. “Older ruts are iced over from the melt and freeze we had a couple of days ago.”

Logan patted the uncovered tire tracks. “This track was made on top of fresh powder today.”

“Know who lives here?” Stanfeld asked.

“It’s a rental. One-room log cabin.” Logan continued to brush at the snow. “Two different cars came through. One more recently.”

“Means at least two perps,” Stanfeld said. “What do we do with our vehicles and…?” He motioned to Kallie.

Her chin lifted in defiance for a second before she gave in. “I’ll flag the road and take my Jeep back to the lodge. From there, I can phone Virgil and give him your location.”

“Thanks, sugar,” Logan said.

After deVries tossed her the Jeep keys, she trotted away.

Stanfeld removed his coat and opened the sedan’s trunk. He took out two bulletproof vests and handed one to deVries before donning the other. “Sorry, Logan. I only carry two.”

Logan jerked up his chin in acknowledgment.

Stanfeld glanced at Dixon. “You go with Kallie. This isn’t—”

“Stuff it, sweet cheeks.” Dixon braced himself. “I have paramedic training.”

“Don’t have time for this.” DeVries saw the red lettering on a small pack and slapped it against Dixon’s chest. “First aid stuff. Stay in the rear.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Stanfeld frowned and nodded, falling in after Logan, who’d already headed down the snow-covered road.

DeVries followed.
Be strong, Tex. We’re coming.

* * * *

Lindsey’s lungs felt seared from the bite of the icy air. She’d fallen so many times her jeans were soaked from her knees to her ankles, and the wet skin burned. Her fingers, face, and ears were growing numb.

The road had disappeared.

Lost
. Hopelessly lost. The snow was falling so thickly, she couldn’t see anything past a few feet. She tripped and fell again, barely catching herself. Her arms shook with weariness as she pushed upright.

After turning in a circle, seeing only the shadowy darkness of tree trunks
—I really hate snow—
she put her hands on her thighs, trying to catch her breath. Sweat trickled down her back. Hot inside the parka, freezing outside.

“Here!” The shout came from nowhere and everywhere, bouncing off the trees.
Morales.

Shit, they’d found where she left the road. They could follow her tracks now.

She ran.

And ran.

They were closing on her. Both of them, the bastards. Her knife was in her right hand. With her left, she snatched up a fallen branch. Too big to swing. The next was a better size and as thick as her wrist.

She stepped behind a tree, forcing her mind away from the memory of hitting Ricks. Of the blood. She strained to tighten her grip on the knife, but her fingers were agonizingly cold.

“She can’t be very far ahead.” Parnell’s voice was low and out of breath.

“Gonna break her neck.” Morales sounded closer. His footsteps neared. Almost on her.

She jumped out and swung the branch into his face as hard as she could.

“Fuck!” He staggered back, nose streaming blood. She hit him again alongside his forehead, and the wood broke.

He dropped to his knees.

“Bitch.” With a sweep of his arm, Parnell knocked her off her feet and onto her back. “Fucking cunt.” He lifted her by the front of her coat and drew his fist back.

Screaming between gritted teeth, she thrust the knife at him.

He jerked aside so the blade barely cut him and backhanded her into the snow again. As she landed with a grunt, he kicked her in the side so hard even the coat didn’t shield her. The brutal pain tore through her ribs. She couldn’t breathe, could only curl around herself.

“Jesus, she did a number on you, Morales.”

“Gonna break every bone, bust her up…”

The sound of Morales’s cursing, of what he would do to her, got her moving. She rolled over…and saw her knife lying within a few feet.
C’mon. Sit up.

Parnell wiped his cheek and examined the blood. “You’re really going to regret that,” he whispered and kicked her again.

At the blast of pain, the world wavered out of sight.

Even as her vision refocused, she saw Parnell scoop up her knife from the snow. Despairing tears burned against her icy face when he hefted her to her feet and shoved her in front of him. “Move.”

* * * *

DeVries heard erratic footsteps approaching and hissed to get Logan’s attention.

In the lead, Logan held up a hand to halt.

A dark shadow came through the forest from the side. Staggering.
Rebecca
. Her face was dead white. She had her arms in front—damn, she had the baby.

“Jesus.” Logan sprang forward.

Without speaking, deVries and Stanfeld spread apart to guard the perimeter in case she’d been followed.

Rebecca stared in disbelief. “Logan?” Her knees buckled.

He caught her awkwardly, handicapped by the baby between them.

Dixon dashed over. “Let me, Becca.” He carefully took Ansel. A high wail showed the baby was still alive and displeased at the jostling.

“Fuck, little rebel.” Wrapping his arms around her, Logan buried his face in her hair as she took a death grip on the back of his jacket.

Eyes burning, deVries turned away to watch the forest. The need for Lindsey was a hard ache in his guts.