Mountain Captive (Eagle Mountain: Criminal History #4)

Chapter Eight

Gage fetched a list of items Chris needed from her apartment, and Rand loaded them into his SUV before they headed out. No one said much. He didn’t try to reassure her that everything would be all right or offer advice for how she should act or feel. She was grateful for that. She laid her head back and closed her eyes, the dark silence and the rhythm of the vehicle’s tires on the road almost lulling her to sleep.

But not quite. The fear was still there, coiled inside her, waiting to spring to life. That fear made her open her eyes again and repeatedly check the side mirror, looking out for headlights coming up behind them.

“No one is following us,” Rand said. “I’ve been watching.”

“I’m sorry I pulled you into this,” she said. This was why she didn’t get close to people. She didn’t want anyone to see the mess of her life. It was like having an acquaintance rifle through the contents of your kitchen garbage can or your dirty-clothes hamper.

“I want to help.” He glanced at her, then back at the road. “Just to be clear, this invitation to stay with me comes with no strings attached.”

Was he thinking of that kiss? The memory pulled at her, here in the dark, so close to him. Yet everything that happened afterward was a barrier between them now. “Thanks,” she said. “I like you. I guess that’s pretty clear from that kiss. But... I have a lot to process right now. And I’m not used to trusting other people.”

“Fair enough. Just know you can trust me.”

She wanted to believe that, but she had had so little practice in depending on other people. She thought of all the rescue calls she had been on, when strangers trusted her and her fellow volunteers to save them. Those people, injured or stranded in the wilderness, didn’t have much choice in the matter. Maybe she didn’t have much choice either. She wasn’t strong enough to fight the Vine on her own. She believed Rand was strong, and she believed he really did want to help her. That was more than anyone else had given her, which made it a good place to start.

R AND ’ S HOME HAD once been a summer camp. He had purchased the long-abandoned property, torn down the dilapidated camper cabins and turned the log structure that had served as a lodge into a home. The remote location—the only property at the end of a long gravel road—had added to the hassle of the remodel, but now he appreciated the privacy and the safety it would offer Chris.

“The guest room and bath are upstairs,” he told her as she and Harley followed him into the great room that made up most of the ground floor. “The primary suite is down here, so you’ll have plenty of privacy.” He led the way up the stairs to the guest room. “I use the room across the hall as my home office. Kitchen and laundry are downstairs, and there’s a detached garage in back. There’s an alarm system and a sensor on the driveway that will alert me if anyone tries to drive in.”

“Is there something you need to tell me, Doctor?” she asked. “Some reason for all this security?”

“Let’s just say I’m a naturally cautious person.”

Harley sat beside her and leaned on her leg. She rubbed the dog’s ears and looked into the bedroom but didn’t go in. “Thank you,” she said. “I couldn’t ask for a better setup.”

“You’re welcome to stay as long as you like. I work three or four ten-to twelve-hour shifts per week at the hospital, so you’ll be alone during that time. I hope that’s not a problem.”

“No. I’m used to being by myself.” She entered the room, trailed by the dog, then looked back at him. “Good night,” she said, and closed the door.

She had spoken so matter-of-factly about being accustomed to being alone, but her words made him feel a little hollow. He would have answered the same way and protested that he liked his own company. But there had been times when he had wished for companionship to fill that emptiness. He hoped he could be that for her.

Five years ago

“S OMEONE FROM THE V INE was here tonight.”

Chris’s mom sounded calm on the phone, but her words sent an icy shard of fear through Chris. “They came to your house? You spoke to them?”

“It was a man and a woman. They were waiting on the front steps when I came in from work. They were in the shadows, so I didn’t see them until I was almost to the door. They were dressed in suits and carrying a big Bible, like missionaries going door-to-door. But when I told them I wasn’t interested and tried to move past them, the man grabbed me.”

Chris sucked in her breath. “Mom! Did they hurt you?”

“They only frightened me. But that was what they intended.”

“What did they say? What did they do?”

“They forced their way into the house and kept asking me where you were. They said the Exalted was ready to marry you and it was time for you to fulfill your destiny.”

“I thought they would have forgotten me by now,” Chris said. “That the Exalted would have found someone else to marry.” After all this time, she still thought of him by that title. His given name—Edmund Harrison—felt too strange on her tongue.

“I promise I didn’t tell them where you are,” her mother said. “But they said to tell you they weren’t going to give up looking for you. And they said...they said...” Her voice broke.

Chris took a deep breath, trying to stop the shaking that had taken over her body but failing. “What did they say?”

“They said if you won’t come back to them, you’re dead to them. And they’ll make sure you’re dead to everyone else too.”

“They’re going to kill me just because I won’t come back to their cult and marry a man who’s old enough to be my father and already has at least one wife?” The idea was absurd, yet Chris didn’t have it in her to laugh. She still remembered how seriously the members of the group took the Exalted’s every pronouncement.

“They killed your father,” her mother said. “And I’m sure they’ve killed other people. Eliminating anyone who gets out of line is one way the Exalted keeps order.”

“You defied them by taking me away,” Chris said. “Did they threaten you too?”

“They said...if you didn’t obey, they would find a way to hurt me.”

“No.” A wave of nausea rocked Chris, but she pulled herself together, allowing anger to overcome the sickness. “That’s not going to happen.”

“I’m packing my things already. And I have my extra ID.” Back when they had first left the group, her mother had paid for new birth certificates and Social Security cards for the two of them. Later, she had paid even more for a second set of identification. Chris kept hers in a lockbox under her bed, but she hadn’t even looked at the papers for years.

“I’m coming to get you,” Chris said. “I’ll help you move.”

“No! They’re probably watching me, and they’ll see you. I have a friend who will help me. He’s a former cop. He knows a little of my story. I trust him. I’ll be in touch with my new information when it’s safe to do so.”

“What about going to the police?” Chris asked. “If we tell them about these threats...”

“There’s nothing they can do,” her mother said. “The Exalted can produce witnesses all day long to attest to his sterling character. He has money and powerful friends to protect him. We don’t have any proof they’ve threatened us.”

“We know they’ve killed people,” Chris said.

“But we can’t prove it. Better to start over with a new name. I’m getting used to it now.”

Gloom settled over Chris. “Do you think I should move and change my name too?”

“No, no! They don’t know where you are. If they did, they wouldn’t have wasted their time with me. There’s no need for you to worry. I wouldn’t even have bothered you with this, except I wanted you to know I’ll be unreachable for a few days. Just until I get resettled.”

“Of course I’m worried, Mom! What if they come after you again?”

“They won’t. I’ve gotten very good at covering my tracks. I’m going to hang up now, sweetie. Love you. Talk to you soon. Oh, and next time we talk, remember—my new name is April.”

Chris hung up the phone and slumped onto the sofa, stomach churning. Her mother hadn’t sounded scared or even terribly upset. The two of them had moved five times between Chris’s twelfth and eighteenth birthdays, and her mother had relocated twice more since Chris had left home. After all these years of running and hiding, Chris sometimes thought her mother enjoyed the challenge and the chance to start over and remake herself once again.

Whereas all Chris had ever wanted was to sink roots in one place, to be part of a community. She had found that here in Eagle Mountain. She had artist friends and her search and rescue friends and people whom she believed cared about her. Though she wasn’t particularly close to any single person, she felt comfortable with them all. The thought of having to leave that behind was too heavy a burden to carry.

And all because one evil man was fixated on her. The Exalted had been getting his way for so long he couldn’t bear the thought of anyone denying him—even a child, as she had been when she ran away from him. She wanted the running and hiding to stop, but she didn’t know how to make it happen.

She still remembered her father, lying on the bed in their little trailer, writhing in agony. This was what the Exalted’s punishment looked like. If the Vine ever caught up with her, they would make sure she obeyed, or they would mete out a similar fate. She was as sure of that as she had once been certain of the other teachings she had learned as a little girl. She had left those other false beliefs behind, but watching her father die had sealed this one certainty within her. She couldn’t risk the Exalted catching up with her, so she had to keep running.

B EFORE C HRIS EVEN opened her eyes the next morning, she had the dreamlike sensation of being in an unfamiliar place. She opened her eyes to a shadowed bedroom, a thin comforter over the top of the bed, Harley stretched out along her side. No dream, then. She was in the guest room in Rand’s home. For a few seconds the terror of those moments in the closet, hearing heavy footsteps approach her hiding place, threatened to overwhelm her. She rested a hand on the dog, feeling his side rise and fall, and grew calmer. She was safe. No one was going to hurt her.

She sat up and looked around the plain but comfortable guest room. Moving around so much, she was used to being in unfamiliar places, but almost always alone or with her mother. Not in a house belonging to a man she really liked but wasn’t sure she should be with.

She got up and got ready for the day. Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, she went downstairs to let Harley out. The rooms were empty, Rand’s SUV no longer parked out front. While Harley patrolled the property, she hunted in the kitchen for coffee and started it brewing. Rand had left a note on the kitchen table with a set of car keys.

My shift is 6–4 today. The keys are to the Jeep in the garage. Feel free to use it. Help yourself to anything you like. Text if you need anything. Rand

Harley scratched at the door, and after making sure the noise really was from the dog, she let him in, then carried a cup of coffee upstairs and started the shower.

After she and the dog both had breakfast, she wandered the house. Rand had a few decent pieces of art on the walls—a mix of photos and original oils or watercolors, some from local artists she knew. His bookshelves housed medical texts, historical nonfiction and detective stories. One photo showed him standing with an older man and woman, the man an older version of Rand himself. So these must be his parents. No photo of his sister. Maybe that reminder would be too painful.

She avoided his bedroom. She was nosy, but she wasn’t going to be that intrusive. House tour over, she returned to her room and made her bed but was unable to settle. She needed something to focus on besides the Vine. Usually, she could lose herself in her art, but she didn’t have any supplies.

“Want to go for a ride, Harley?”

The dog wagged his tail and trotted ahead of her down the stairs. She collected the keys from the kitchen table and headed for the garage. Nice that Rand had a spare vehicle. One the Vine wouldn’t recognize as hers.

At the last minute, she texted him. If he came home before she returned, she didn’t want him to think the worst. Plus, her work with search and rescue had ingrained in her the advice that when setting out alone on a risky activity like a hike or skiing, it was smart to let someone know your plans. Running errands in town shouldn’t be risky, but considering her situation, it might be.

Decided to run a few errands in town. Back soon .

He responded with a thumbs-up emoji. She smiled. Odd how that made her feel better. She headed toward her apartment, almost without thinking. But she didn’t park in back. Instead, she pulled the Jeep into a parking spot right in front of the gallery and sat for a few minutes, observing passers-by. No one looked like anyone from the Vine. Over the years she had gotten good at spotting them, with their slightly outdated fashion and simple hairstyles; the men always clean shaven, the women without makeup. Even more important, no one was paying particular attention to the building or to her.

Harley waited on the sidewalk while Chris went inside the gallery. The bell on the door sounded, and Jasmine bustled out of the workroom in the back. She stopped short when she recognized Chris. Today the frames of her glasses were red, matching the large red stones in her earrings. “Chris, how are you?” she asked, then hurried over to give her a hug.

Chris patted Jasmine awkwardly on the back and stepped out of her embrace. “I’m fine.”

Jasmine nodded. “You look better. Not so pale. What happened last night was horrible. Do you have any idea who would do such a thing?”

“None,” she lied. “I stopped by to pick up some supplies.”

She had hoped to change the subject, but Jasmine didn’t take the hint. “I’ve got someone coming tomorrow to see about replacing the doors on your apartment,” she said. “But you’re going to have a major mess to clean up. The sheriff’s department left fingerprint dust, or whatever you call it, everywhere.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Chris said. “I’ll take care of it. And I’ll reimburse you for the doors.”

Jasmine shook her head. “I told you, my insurance will take care of that. But what happened? The sheriff’s deputy didn’t say much, just that someone tried to break in.”

“I think they had me confused with someone else,” she lied again. She didn’t want to go into the whole backstory. The circumstances would probably make Jasmine think twice about renting to her. “I just came in for a few things, then I’ll be out of your way.” In addition to the artwork for sale, Jasmine stocked a small selection of canvases, paints, pastels, sketchbooks and other supplies.

“Oh, honey, you’re no trouble. You’re the best tenant I ever had. Most of the time I wouldn’t even know you’re up there, you’re so quiet.” Jasmine followed her over to the corner devoted to supplies. “Deputy Gwynn said there were two guys who tried to break in, but they got away. He told me to keep an eye out for anyone hanging around the store, but I haven’t seen anyone. Did you get a good look at them? Do you know who they are?”

“I only had a brief glimpse of them.” Chris selected a sketchbook and pencils. “It was dark, and they were wearing ski masks.”

“It’s just the wildest thing. I mean, you don’t think about something like that happening here. I hope they don’t come back. They might think there’s money in the gallery, though I make it a point not to leave much cash on hand, and I wouldn’t think artwork was something they could readily sell.”

“I’m sure the sheriff’s deputies scared them off.” Chris added an art gum eraser to her purchases. “I’ll take these.”

“Where are you staying?” Jasmine asked as she rang up Chris’s selections.

“With a friend,” she said. She didn’t wait for Jasmine to probe for more details, instead collecting the art supplies and her change and starting for the door. “I have to run. See you soon.”

She decided to walk over to the bank and get some cash. She hadn’t gone very far when someone called her name. “Chris!”

She turned to see Bethany Ames hurrying toward her. As usual, Bethany was smiling. “I’m glad I ran into you,” Bethany said. “I came into town to grab some lunch. We could eat together.”

Chris had already taken a step back. “I don’t really have time right now. Thanks anyway.”

Bethany’s smile faded. “If you don’t want to hang out with me, you can be honest. It’s because I made such a fool of myself with Vince, isn’t it?” She covered her eyes with her hand. “I’m never going to live that down. But honest, I didn’t know he was involved with someone else. I’m new here in town, right? I’m trying to make friends—to be more outgoing and positive. That’s what you’re supposed to do, isn’t it? But I keep getting it wrong. I’m sorry to bother you.” She turned away.

“Wait,” Chris called. Bethany’s raw honesty was shocking, and also appealing. And Chris knew a little about being the “new kid” and trying to find a way to fit in. “I’ll have lunch with you. What’s this about you and Vince?” Vince Shepherd was a fellow search and rescue volunteer who was living with Eagle Mountain Examiner reporter Tammy Patterson.

“Are you sure?” Bethany asked. “I don’t want to impose if you’re busy.”

“I have time,” Chris said. “And I want to hear your story.”

Bethany’s smile returned. “In that case, I’m happy to give you the whole sad tale of me making a fool of myself. I thought Vince was so good looking and I would sweep him off his feet with my awkward but endearing charm.” She rolled her eyes. “Unfortunately—or maybe fortunately , since he already had a girlfriend—he was immune to my flirting. When I found out he was involved with someone else, I was mortified. I figured everyone in search and rescue knew about my crush on him.”

“I didn’t know,” Chris said. “But then, I’m not usually clued in on local gossip.” She wasn’t close enough to other people for them to confide in her.

But Bethany was willing to tell all. She obviously needed someone to talk to, so why couldn’t Chris be that person? The thought surprised her. Six months ago that wasn’t something that would have occurred to her. She had always believed she didn’t need close friends.

But Rand had refused to be put off by her reserve. Apparently, Bethany felt the same way. Chris smiled at her. “Let’s go over to the Cake Walk and have lunch. You can tell me how you ended up in Eagle Mountain.”

“It’s a doozy of a story, I promise,” Bethany said.

An hour later, Chris had shared a cheeseburger with Harley on the patio of the Cake Walk Café and learned all about Bethany, her three overprotective brothers and the fiancé who had jilted her. Despite what some would have labeled a tragedy, the young woman remained sunny and optimistic, and excited about starting life over alone in a new place, despite some bumps in the road along the way. Chris could never see herself being so upbeat, but spending time with her new friend had inspired her to do a better job of not dwelling on the hurts of her past. Bethany’s approach to moving on struck her as healthier, though she suspected a lot of determination lay beneath the young woman’s cheerful exterior.

She ended her afternoon in town at the local grocery, for a few items to add to Rand’s supplies. She hesitated in front of a display of portobello mushrooms. She had a recipe for grilled mushrooms that Rand might like. She could make dinner for the two of them.

And then what? Would that be too much like a date? A chance to repeat that kiss and see if it had been a fluke or as sensational as she remembered?

She shook her head. “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” she mumbled, but she put the mushrooms in her cart anyway.

She saw no one suspicious in town, and no one followed her back to Rand’s place. She texted to let him know she had returned safely, but got no reply. Maybe he was in surgery.

She settled into a chair on the back deck and began to sketch the scene before her—a patch of woods, with mountains in the distance. Soon she was lost in the work. This was what she needed, what had always made her feel better—to let her unsettling thoughts find their way out through her pencil, transformed from fears to fantasies of a hidden world that she controlled.

R AND WAS HALFWAY home after his shift when he remembered he was supposed to meet Danny to review the medical protocols for search and rescue. He was tempted to call and cancel, but he resisted the urge and drove to SAR headquarters. Once there, he texted Chris to let her know he would be a little late. Should be done by 6:30 he said, and hit send before he could talk himself out of it. Had he assumed too much? It wasn’t as if they were in a relationship and needed to report their comings and goings to each other. But he also didn’t want to worry her when she already had so much to deal with.

Danny was waiting for him inside the building. “These are all our protocols,” he said, hefting a large notebook. “Some of them are on the computer, too, but not all of them. Maybe eventually that will happen, but for now, we’re still doing things the old-fashioned way.”

“No problem,” Rand said. “Let’s see how many we can get through this afternoon.”

They moved to a couple of folding chairs set up at a table near the front of the room. “I guess you heard about the commotion at Chris’s last night,” Danny said.

“You know about that?” Rand tried not to show his surprise.

Danny shrugged. “It’s all over town. I guess people saw the sheriff’s deputies there this morning.”

“I did hear about it,” Rand said, unsure how much to reveal. Should he mention that Chris was staying with him? He decided against it. Not that he didn’t trust Danny, but it seemed safer for as few people as possible to know her whereabouts.

“I wonder if it was a random break-in or if someone targeted Chris,” Danny said.

The comment surprised him. “Why would you think someone would target her?”

Danny shrugged. “She’s pretty striking looking. Maybe she caught the wrong guy’s attention. And for all she’s been part of the group for four years, I don’t know much about her. She’s not one to talk much about herself. Which I respect, but most people aren’t quite as, well, secretive as she is. And now there’s this weird thing with some stranger declaring he’s going to marry her?” He shook his head. “I just wonder if it’s all connected.”

Rand was sure the attack and Chris’s past were connected, but would the sheriff be able to prove it? “Maybe the sheriff will find who did it,” he said, and opened the notebook. “Let’s get started on these protocols.”

The work went quickly. The notebook was arranged alphabetically, with one to two sheets of paper outlining the proper treatment for each condition, from asthma attacks to wound care. Rand recommended a few updates and places where they might review their training. “Have you dealt with all of these conditions in the field?” he asked after he had studied the page for transient ischemic attack.

“Most of them,” Danny said. “I’ve seen everything from third-degree burns from a campfire to heat exhaustion and broken bones. We’ve dealt with heart attacks, seizures and head injuries—if it can happen to someone when they’re away from home, we might be called upon to treat it in the field, or at least stabilize the person until we can transport them to an ambulance.”

“It looks to me like you’re up to date on everything.” Rand shut the notebook. “I’m impressed.”

“Thanks,” Danny said. “We try to run a professional organization, but when you rely on one hundred percent volunteers, things can fall through the cracks.” He shoved back his chair. “Thanks again for your help.”

Rand was about to tell him he was glad to be involved when hard pounding on the door made him flinch. He and Danny exchanged looks, then hurried toward the entrance, where the pounding continued. Danny opened the door. “What’s going on?” he asked.

A twentysomething man with disheveled dark hair to his shoulders and deep shadows beneath his eyes stood on the doorstep. He wore jeans faded to a soft shade of gray blue, an equally worn denim work shirt over a gray T-shirt and dirty straw sandals. “I need a doctor right away,” he said.

“I’m a doctor.” Rand stepped forward. “What’s the problem?”

“It’s not for me. It’s for my sister.” He clutched Rand’s arm. “You have to come with me. Now.”

“Let me call an ambulance.” Danny pulled out his phone. “Where is your sister?”

“There isn’t time for that,” the man said. He struck out, sending Danny’s phone flying.

“Hey!” Danny shouted.

“What’s wrong with your sister?” Rand asked, trying to gain control of the situation.

“I think she’s dying. You have to help her.”

“An ambulance will help her more than I can,” Rand said.

“No ambulance!” The man let go of Rand and stepped back. Rand thought he might leave, but instead, he pulled a pistol from beneath his shirt and pointed it at Rand. The end of the barrel was less than two feet from Rand’s stomach. One twitch of the man’s finger would inflict a wound Rand doubted he would survive. “Come with me now,” the man ordered.