Chapter Seven
It had been at least half an hour since the four gunmen had fled Beau’s home.
They’d had an excellent head start and should have been long gone by the time he tracked them through the woods.
And yet, here they were, about thirty feet away, lounging around as if they had all the time in the world.
What were they up to? And what were they waiting for?
Careful to be as quiet as possible and avoid stepping on twigs or anything else that might make a sound and alert them to his presence, Beau edged closer.
At twenty feet away, he was as close as he dared, concealed within a thick group of bushes.
As long as he didn’t move or make a noise, they shouldn’t see him even if they walked right past him. Or so he hoped.
Confronting them, unfortunately, wasn’t an option. Not only was he outgunned, these henchmen were spread around the clearing rather than sitting together. If he did end up having to fire at them, they’d see his muzzle flash and be able to aim right at him before he could take all of them out.
Not that he wanted to do that.
Losing his job didn’t mean he’d lost his ethics, his morals, his sense of right and wrong.
The law mattered. Justice mattered. His goal wasn’t to kill them.
His goal was to get information, find out why they’d broken into his home armed like an elite special forces team.
Although he was fairly certain it was because of what Sierra had already said about him investigating her brother’s death.
Them showing up after her warning was too much of a coincidence not to be related.
What Beau really needed to do was identify these men so he could figure out exactly who he was up against.
But he couldn’t do that by confronting them, not without backup, which wasn’t even a thing for him anymore. He was a civilian now. Powerless to arrest them, even if he hadn’t been outgunned. But he wasn’t powerless to gather evidence with the only weapon he could safely use right now.
His phone’s camera.
Carefully shielding the screen behind the bushes so no one would notice the light, he set it to silent and dimmed the screen. Then he began snapping pictures.
All four of them were dressed in black with bullet-resistant vests strapped over their shirts.
Two of them had long guns hanging from straps over their shoulders.
All four wore knives in scabbards at their waists.
But where they’d been wearing ski masks at his cabin, here in the clearing they’d tugged them off.
Because of that mistake, Beau was able to get excellent photos of their faces.
Three of them anyway.
The fourth one had his back to Beau. After taking pictures of the others, Beau kept his phone camera at the ready, waiting for the last guy to look over his shoulder or move to where Beau could snap a photo of his face.
A low buzzing sound had all of them looking toward Bad Guy Number Four, the one with his back to Beau. He tilted his head down, probably reading a text on his phone. Then he stood.
“We’ve finally been given an alternate pickup location, clear of cops. Head due north. Let’s go.”
They took off, jogging out of the clearing and heading away from Beau.
He waited as long as he dared, not wanting them to hear him.
Then he took off in pursuit, circling the clearing and keeping low and behind cover as much as possible.
All the while, he tried picturing a map of the mountain in his head, following the twists and turns they were taking.
But if they were searching for a road, they were going the wrong way.
There was only one up and down this mountain.
Just like there was only one road into Mystic Lake, a narrow hour-long drive through the heavy woods with tight turns.
There was no other way to reach this landlocked town, except by helicopter.
So what did the fourth man mean by an alternate pickup location?
Even if they had a chopper, there wasn’t anywhere near this particular mountain where one could safely land.
The trees were too close together, the brush far too thick.
A few minutes later, the distant sound of engines gave Beau the answer.
The bad guys didn’t need a road. They were getting picked up by all-terrain vehicles.
And if Beau didn’t catch up, fast, he’d miss that pickup and his opportunity to take pictures of anyone else involved in…
whatever this was. He took off at a sprint, gun out, just in case the noise he was now making was heard by any of the gunmen over the sound of the ATVs.
His lungs were burning and his legs aching by the time he caught up to them.
Three of the gunmen were already wearing helmets, riding behind the drivers of the ATVs, zipping away through the woods.
The last gunman, the man Beau hadn’t been able to photograph earlier, remained.
His posture was stiff, tense, as he stood again with his back to Beau.
Across from him was the driver of the last ATV.
He too was dressed all in black. But the only weapon on him was a pistol holstered at his waist. When he dismounted, he didn’t bother to remove his helmet.
Instead, he stalked forward in quick, angry strides.
Beau snapped pictures as best he could with the sparse cover available in this section of the woods. When the driver reached the other man, he slammed his fist into the man’s jaw, knocking him to the ground.
A flurry of angry Spanish followed as the driver berated the man he’d punched. Beau’s understanding of the language wasn’t good enough to catch most of the words. But he did catch one that didn’t require translation.
Sierra.
The driver flipped the visor of his helmet up to continue his tirade. Beau zoomed in with his camera to snap a picture, then froze, shocked. He recognized him.
The man grabbed the other guy by the arm and jerked him to standing.
They jogged to the ATV and hopped on, the second man donning the extra helmet.
Beau belatedly realized he’d missed his opportunity to get a picture of the fourth gunman’s face.
But at least he’d seen him. He could identify him if he ever saw him again.
The ATV revved and the two men quickly sped away.
Beau thumbed through the last series of photos he’d taken, then stopped as the familiar face of the last driver stared back at him from his phone. He wasn’t mistaken. He knew this man or, at least, knew who he was.
He closed the photo app and pressed one of the contacts in his Favorites list before beginning the long jog back toward his cabin.
The line clicked. “Chief, what are you—”
“Collier, where’s Sierra?”
“Where are you? Did you find the gunmen? Do you need—”
“Where is she, Collier?”
“About twenty feet away glaring at me through the bars of the holding cell. We left just as the others were turning onto your street. I called and instructed them to work on evidence collection. They should still be there, at your place.”
Beau jumped over a rotted log and ducked to avoid a low-hanging branch. “Did they see Sierra when you passed them?”
“Doubtful. The tint on that truck is too dark, yet another ticket I’ll have to write for the owner. That tint’s illegal.”
“I don’t care about the damn tint, Collier. Have you entered Sierra’s name into the system yet?”
“Are you always this grumpy after a gunfight?”
“Collier—”
“Okay, okay. It’s been a hell of a day. I get it.
Sierra and I only just got to the station.
Typing up the arrest report wasn’t my first priority.
Getting her into the cell without her biting off my arm or kicking the hell out of me was.
No telling what she’d have done if she hadn’t been handcuffed. I swear the woman’s half-feral.”
Loud swearing told Beau that Sierra didn’t appreciate that comment.
“Did you tell any other officers about her?”
“Not yet. When they get here, we’ll spill our guts in the conference room and decide our next steps.”
“Do me a favor, Collier. Don’t. Don’t tell the others about Sierra. Don’t put anything about her in your report. I don’t want any online trace of her being there.”
“Please tell me you’re kidding. She brandished a shotgun at me. Heck, you told me to arrest her.”
Beau dodged another low-hanging branch. “I’ll explain when I get there. I’m heading toward my cabin now to get my truck and a few other things before coming to the station.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll wait. But if you honestly expect me not to put everything in the report and hide the truth from my fellow officers, you’ll have to give me a damn good reason.”
“Sierra’s life could very well depend on it.”
Collier let out a long-suffering sigh. “Guess I can’t argue with that.”
“One more thing. Keep an eye out for any strangers near the station. These are some very, very bad guys.”
“No kidding. I was in the gunfight with you earlier. Remember?”
“I mean it, Collier. Be extra vigilant. Something strange is going on. Something dangerous. And Sierra is right in the middle of it.”