Chapter 5
Chapter Five
If Sebastian took a bullet to the head, he was not going to be happy.
And if this Ranger or her dog were injured in any way, he was gonna be even more pissed.
Back in the parking lot, he’d pulled on a hunter’s orange knit hat and Cas’s dark green winter jacket so he looked more like a hiker than an operator.
Sebastian had needed to jog to catch up with Deacon’s long strides and her dog’s eager pace.
Now he trailed the ranger and her dog up the steep path and hated the fact he couldn’t control this situation the way he wanted to. Clear the area. Sweep for the bad guy. Eliminate the threat. Save the child. Arrest the suspected murderer.
But there was no controlling this situation. This was a manhunt over millions of acres of wilderness, and they needed every tactical advantage they could get if they hoped to bring this little girl home.
He scanned the rugged landscape with exposed granite ridges in the distance.
Thankfully, they were below the tree line, among the conifers and sheltered from the wind and, to a small degree, from a sharp-eyed killer with a rifle.
Sebastian didn’t like standing out with a target on his head, but with their weapon holsters covered and their badges out of sight, they would probably pass for a couple on a hike.
An unhappy couple.
Eastman presumably had binoculars, and he’d have to be blind not to see how irritated they both were.
The woman obviously didn’t like him, but he wasn’t going to apologize for doing his job the way he’d been trained.
She and the dog moved fast, and he had to work a little to keep up.
Virginia wasn’t Montana, and altitude was a factor here—but not for her.
Those long legs of hers ate up the distance.
The cold air was making itself felt inside his lungs, but he refused to cough or complain.
If she could handle it, so could he.
He needed to watch his footing. The ground was frozen, and the rocks were covered with a layer of black ice.
Thirty minutes into the constant uphill trek, a thought occurred to him. “Did he see you yesterday?”
She twisted to face him. Her lashes and fine brows were darker than the tips of blonde hair that stuck out of her black hat. “I don’t think so.”
Her brows drew together as if remembering something.
“What?”
She turned away. “Nothing.”
Sebastian didn’t believe her. He caught her arm. “Tell me.”
She gave his gloved hand a look, and he released her. He drew parallel so he could see her face.
“I got that prickly feeling.” She met his gaze. “You know, like I was being watched.”
He didn’t like that idea.
“You probably think I’m paranoid.”
“Paying attention to your instincts isn’t paranoia. It’s survival.”
She shrugged her shoulders and focused her attention on the black dog on the end of his long leash.
“He wouldn’t know who I was even if he did see me.
Just a woman with a dog.” She clenched her fingers repeatedly.
The bitter cold was seeping into both their hands regardless.
“If I’d been ten minutes faster, I’d have met them on the trail. I might have been able to stop him.”
“How would you have known it was anything but a dad and his daughter taking the dog for a walk?”
She shuddered. “He’d have had too much gear for a short hike. I like to think I’d have been able to tell there was something weird about him and intervene.”
“He’d have shot you before you’d even realized there was a problem. He wouldn’t have wanted someone to recognize him and witness which way he went.” The stark truth made him glad she hadn’t confronted Eastman alone yesterday. “Who knows what he’d have done to your dog.”
Her panicked eyes stared at her dog, who looked at them like they were wasting time. They were, but they’d both needed a short breather.
The sky pressed down around them, and the temperature dropped the higher they climbed. The odd flake of snow drifted past.
Deacon glanced at the sky then hurried on. Dark circles underscored her eyes, and strain tightened the edges of her mouth.
The tops of the trees started to sway as the breeze got up.
“Anywhere they could shelter around here? He must have checked the forecast before he made a run for it.”
Her breath came out in frosted gusts. “There are fishing lodges, abandoned cabins, old mines, strewn throughout the Rockies. He might even have a camp set up in the wilderness somewhere. We should talk to his former backcountry clients. They might know.”
“Good idea.”
She looked surprised by the praise.
What, was he an ogre all of a sudden?
A stag spotted them and bolted through the trees. It faded almost immediately into the forest. The dog looked up briefly and then ignored the other animal. He was focused on his target.
Sebastian appreciated dedication to the job. “How long can he do that for?”
Deacon pressed her lips together. “Until he drops—or more accurately, until I drop, but it’s my responsibility not to let it get to that point.”
He looked along the narrow trail that wound through the forest and then up at the dove-gray underbelly of the clouds, which seemed to be getting lower and lower. “I don’t like the look of that sky.”
She glanced up briefly. “Me neither. There’s a fork up ahead where they could either head east or north. We need to know which direction he took because it affects the entire search area. We can’t stop now.”
Sebastian wasn’t sure whether or not to turn back, which wasn’t a position he was used to being in.
She seemed to sense his indecision. “Another five minutes.”
“Five minutes,” he agreed, “and no more.”
Her breath came in sawing, hoarse gasps now. They were climbing fast.
They arrived at the fork, and the dog seemed confused for a moment and whined.
Nora Deacon stared intently at the frozen ground. “I see tracks going both ways and Chance is alerting for both directions.” She looked up, and he was caught in that violet gaze.
“You think he went one way and backtracked?”
She nodded.
“Which direction did he actually take?”
Snow started to fall. One second the air was clear, and the next thick flakes fell softly, the edge of this impending storm.
The ranger bit her lip, and he found himself staring at her mouth for a second too long.
He frowned and stood back. “We should go back.”
She nodded. “We should, but let me try this first.” She unclipped the leash. Pointed along the track. “Find.”
Sebastian held his breath as the dog took off along one branch of the trail that cut up over the mountain. They scrambled after him. Shit. This was crazy.
The dog went about a hundred yards up the trail and then stopped, whirling around in confusion, nose to the ground but frustration in every inch of his body.
Deacon met his stare through the fast falling flakes.
“Come.” She called the dog.
They headed back down to the fork.
“Find,” she pointed and ordered again.
They scrambled again, this time following the path downward and north along the western flank of the mountain.
They moved fast, but the snow was already accumulating on the ground, and it was getting dangerously slippery on the rocks.
They went a hundred yards, and the dog made no move to slow down.
A wolf howled in the distance. The mournful sound seemed to echo in the chambers of his heart even as the hair on his nape rose.
Sebastian caught the ranger’s arm. “Enough. We have to go back.”
Deacon stopped running and nodded. Leaned down, hands braced on her thighs as she bent over and caught her breath.
The dog disappeared for a moment in the thick snow, obviously keen to follow the scent and find the person he’d been told to locate. Sebastian understood. It gutted him to know they’d failed to find Summer. Failed to rescue her.
“Chance. Come,” Deacon called out anxiously.
The dog reappeared almost immediately, tail high, eyes bright, black coat covered in a layer of white. But he was moving slower than he’d been earlier. Even the dog was getting tired.
Sebastian sent an electronic pin back to Novak and took a can of neon orange paint from his pocket, shook snow off the branches and sprayed those he could reach.
The paint stank, and he held his breath while the ranger and the dog moved away from the noxious odor.
Hopefully, the paint wouldn’t be visible to anyone traveling in the other direction.
Of course, with all this snow, it might not be visible to anyone at all soon.
Sweat began to cool on his skin, and his muscles ached from the exertion of their rapid ascent.
The extreme elements not only took a toll on their bodies, but the cold could also turn deadly if they were exposed for too long.
As much as he worried about the missing child, he and the ranger needed to get back to base, determine a strategy, and form a plan.
He hoped Eastman was half the outdoors man he claimed to be. The idea of that little girl struggling through this storm…
Sebastian forced the emotions away. Fear and dread solved nothing.
“There’s another fork in the trail not far ahead.”
“No.” He stuffed the paint canister back into his pocket. “We head back. While we still can.”
She opened her mouth as if to argue.
“Ranger Deacon, Nora, for God’s sake. We need to get back and report in. We don’t have the supplies we need to survive a blizzard. Even Chance is done in.”
She stared at her dog and nodded reluctantly, struggling to remove a water bottle from her day pack and give the animal a drink. She clipped on his leash, despair making her violet eyes darker. “You’re right. We’ve been out since noon yesterday, and he needs some food and a few hours’ sleep.”
“Neither of you got any sleep last night?”
She gnawed her lip. “It’s not that unusual in my line of volunteer work, but I pushed him harder today than I should have.”
He helped her up a steep part of the path. They were both slower now and needed to keep moving even though they were tired and cold—especially as they were tired and cold. “Why d’you do it? I’m sure your actual job is time consuming enough.”