Chapter 19
A twig snapped in the distance and Elena jolted awake.
She looked around and remembered. Her father had asked her to meet.
Was she an idiot? Her mother had risked everything to get her away from the compound.
From him and LaRoche. But her dad would never hurt her, he just wanted to control her.
And her mother. Was she stupid for wanting to reconnect?
To have that relationship with him and her sister?
No. The desire wasn’t stupid. The way she’d taken off on her own to meet with them? Yes, that might rank as stupid.
She thought about leaving before it was too late. Ask her dad and Iris to meet her somewhere else. Somewhere with other people, but . . . they wouldn’t. She had no doubts about that. Then again, why not? If they wanted to leave, why did she have to come alone?
The thought spurred her to action. This wasn’t right. She hadn’t been thinking clearly. She needed to leave, and if they were serious about getting out of the group, they’d find a way to contact her again.
She’d dozed long enough for the shadows to stretch and the sun to dip toward the horizon. She needed to move fast. They’d be there soon.
The sound came again—this time closer. A slight movement, a barely there shift in the air. Her hand moved to her holster, fingers brushing the grip of her weapon. She hurried toward Harley, trying to stay quiet and hidden.
“Eleanor?” The voice drifted through the trees, taking her back to another lifetime. “You here?”
Her breath caught.
She crouched and peered around the tree trunk.
And there he was. A tall man with a gray beard.
Her father. After all these years. Love for him and anger with him mixed to take her by surprise.
She loved him but was definitely still angry with him for how his choices had upended her life. Her happy family’s life.
Elena stayed still for a moment. Waiting to see if anyone else appeared. When no one did, she stood and stepped from behind the tree, her heart hammering against her ribs. “Dad?”
The bearded man turned. His weathered face broke into a smile, crinkling the corners of his eyes—the same way she remembered from childhood. He just had more wrinkles. A lot more. But it was him.
“Eleanor.” His voice cracked. “My little girl.”
She moved toward him, caution warring with longing. Ten steps separated them, then five, then none. His arms wrapped around her, solid and warm, smelling of woodsmoke and pine.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come.” He pulled back, holding her at arm’s length. “Let me look at you.”
“I almost didn’t.” Elena searched his face, noting new lines, deeper creases. “It’s been fourteen years, Dad.”
“Too long.” He squeezed her shoulders. “You grew up good, Eleanor. Strong.”
“It’s Elena now.”
He nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. “Elena, then.” He paused. “I looked for you.”
“You did?” Her mother said he would.
“Of course. LaRoche even hired a private investigator for me, but it was like you two fell off the face of the earth.”
LaRoche. Her mom had been right. If they’d been together, she had no doubt, the investigator would have found them.
“Where’s your mother?” he asked.
Pain sliced through her. “Why?”
“Because I . . . have questions for her.”
Elena froze. “She died a few years ago, Dad. Cancer.”
He drew in a ragged breath. “I see.”
She didn’t want to talk about her mother. “Your note said you wanted out.” Elena looked behind him. “Both of you. Where’s Iris?”
“She doesn’t know I’m meeting you. Not yet. I didn’t want to get her hopes up until I saw how this went down.”
“Oh. Okay.” Disappointment was one of the sharpest arrows.
She’d built this meeting up in her head piece by piece—with the idea of bringing them to the ranch, making her life whole again.
Now it stood there in her mind like a glass thing set too close to the edge.
One small push and it would go over to shatter at the bottom and be lost to her forever.
She took a careful breath. “Well?” she said. “What’s going on?”
“Things have changed lately,” he said. “So much has changed. But one thing she and I finally agreed on is that it’s time to get out.”
“LaVoy Hawthorne is one of the changes?” Elena asked.
Surprise flashed across his face. “You know about him?”
“I know he’s working with the mob. I know people have been hurt.” She took a breath. “They attacked the ranch. And a couple of days ago, someone tried to grab me off my horse.”
Her father’s expression darkened. “What?”
She told him the abbreviated version. “If a friend hadn’t been there, he might have succeeded.”
“But . . . I don’t understand. I don’t think that was someone from our compound.”
“Maybe not,” she said. Maybe it really had been some random incident. Chills skittered up her arms. If so, he was still out there. “Why now? After all these years, why reach out now?”
“I just found out you were there. Iris saw you at the post office.”
“I saw her too.”
“She said you called out to her, but she couldn’t be seen talking to you.”
“I thought about that.”
“So you see? It’s not safe anymore. For Iris or me.” He stepped forward and took her hands. “You’ll help us?”
“Of course.” But something was wrong. Her gut was screaming at her.
Elena took another step back and noticed someone in the trees bordering the clearing, on the other side of the firepit. “Who’s that?”
“No one,” he said, looking over his shoulder. “Where?”
“In the trees.”
He tensed, then touched her arm. “Eleanor—Elena—we don’t have much time.”
“Time for what?”
“To explain.” He reached into his pocket. “I brought something for you.”
Elena tensed, but he pulled out a small wooden carving—a bird in flight. Her throat tightened. “You kept making them?” She took the carving, running her thumb over the smooth wings.
“Of course. I have a whole stash of them to give you.” He cleared his throat. “I never stopped thinking about you.”
The lump in her throat grew. “Dad—”
“I’m sorry.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “For everything.”
The shadowy figure moved closer. Elena looked up, the wooden bird clutched in her hand.
“We need to move,” the figure said, voice muffled by a scarf wrapped around the lower half of their face.
“In a minute,” her father replied. He turned back to Elena. “There’s so much to tell you.”
“Then tell me.” Elena slipped the carving into her pocket but kept an eye on the newcomer. “Why are you working with these people? The ones who attacked us?”
“It’s complicated.” He ran a hand through his beard. “LaVoy has connections. Resources. He promised protection.”
“From what?”
“The government. The collapse.” He shook his head. “You know what we believe.”
“I know what you taught me.” Elena crossed her arms. “I also know that shooting innocent people isn’t protection.”
“LaVoy brought in outsiders. Things got out of control.”
The figure moved again, restless. “We’re exposed here. This was not the smartest place to meet.”
“Just a few more minutes,” her father said. He turned back to Elena. “We want out. But we need help.”
“What kind of help?”
“A place to go. Money to start over.” His eyes pleaded.
The figure stepped forward again. “We need to go. Now.”
“Let me see your face,” Elena said, suddenly suspicious. “If you’re a friend, show yourself.”
The figure hesitated, then pulled down the scarf. A woman with hard eyes stared back at her. Someone Elena didn’t recognize.
“Satisfied?” the woman asked.
“Who are you?”
“Someone who wants to help your family.” The woman reached into her pocket. “But we’ve stayed too long.”
Elena’s hand moved to her weapon again. “What are you doing?”
“Protecting us all.” The woman pulled out a small canister. “I’m sorry about this.”
Before Elena could react, the woman raised her arm and sprayed a fine mist directly into her face.
The effect was immediate. Her eyes burned. Her lungs seized. The world tilted sideways.
“What—” She stumbled backward. “Dad?”
His face blurred before her. “I’m sorry, Eleanor. It’s the only way. They said it was the only way you wouldn’t die. And I couldn’t let them kill you.”
Elena tried to reach for her weapon, but her arms felt weighted down. Her knees buckled. The ground rushed up to meet her. Arms caught her.
Then darkness.
The sun slipped behind the trees as Sully and the others pressed deeper into the darkening forest. Jim led the way, his powerful high-beam flashlight scraping across the ground.
David and his two men, three ranch hands, two FBI agents, three sheriff’s deputies, and Sully followed behind, weapons ready. Sheriff Donovan and other backup, including SWAT, would follow in their vehicles and get as close as possible.
“She came this way for sure,” Jim said, pointing to disturbed leaves and a partial horseshoe print in a patch of mud.
Sully checked his phone again. One bar of service flickered in and out. He’d sent Elena three texts and called twice with no response. Dread rose and he shut it down with effort.
“How far to the meeting spot?” David asked.
“Quarter mile, maybe less.” He hoped. Honestly, it all kind of looked the same to him, and he hadn’t been paying a whole lot of attention as Elena led him up there. He ducked under a low-hanging branch. “It’s a clearing with a firepit. Elena and I watched the preppers and mob guys meeting there.”
The radio at his hip crackled. “Sullivan, come in.” Sheriff Donovan’s voice broke through the static.
Sully grabbed the radio. “Go ahead.”
“More backup just arrived. I’ve briefed them on the situation. They’re gearing up now, and we’ll join your position as soon as we can get there. You sure you don’t want air backup?”