Freefall (No) Page 14

  “She was on birth control. She planned to stop taking it after we climbed Whitney. Not that it’s any of your business.”

  “It’s not.”

  “What if I didn’t know for sure? Jesus. If I wanted to jump off a cliff, a question like that would send me right over the edge.”

  She hadn’t anticipated his anger, but of course he was offended. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I was just wondering if the reason you...freaked out...after we slept together had something to do with a pregnancy.”

  He gave her a blank look. “We used condoms that night.”

  “I’m not explaining this right.”

  “Yeah, maybe you should just drop it.”

  “You asked what I was avoiding! I’m trying to tell you.”

  He fell silent, waiting for it.

  “Children and pregnancy are on my mind right now, because of...my past. I thought you might have asked me to leave that night because the marks on my stomach triggered a memory about Melissa.”

  “Marks?”

  “The stretch marks.”

  “You have stretch marks,” he said, his tone disbelieving.

  She tugged down the waistband of her pants and pointed to the silvery lines on her lower abdomen.

  He squinted in confusion. “I don’t get it.”

  She didn’t think he was lying. Either he hadn’t noticed her stretch marks that night or he’d forgotten about them. “When I was seventeen, I had a baby.”

  His gaze jerked up to her face.

  “I gave her up for adoption,” she said, her voice wavering with emotion. “It was the best choice for both of us, but the experience changed my life forever. I’ve struggled with moving on. Maybe I have been avoiding relationships, for some of the same reasons you are. I know how hard it is to let go.”

  Sam shifted his weight from one foot to the other, absorbing her revelation. After a taut moment, his mouth twisted with derision. “You think you know what it’s like to be me because you had an unplanned pregnancy ten years ago and decided to get rid of the baby? No,” he said, rejecting the notion. Rejecting her, as a person. “I’m sorry, Hope. The situations are totally different. My memory was taken from me. Melissa was taken from me. She’s dead, gone forever. I didn’t have a choice.”

  Hope let her waistband snap into place dully. She turned and stumbled down the trail, blinded by tears. He didn’t understand, but that was her fault. She hadn’t expressed herself well, and this wasn’t the place to discuss it.

  His words hurt, though. So much. They soaked into every vulnerable crack within her, expanding her pain. She’d agonized over the decision to give up her daughter. If he thought her grief didn’t compare to his, he was wrong.

  Her sacrifice had affected everything she’d done over the past ten years. It was why she held herself at a distance from others; she was afraid to love and lose again. The only person she gave her entire heart to was Faith.

  They didn’t talk for several minutes. The tightness in her chest eased, little by little, and she was able to hold her tears at bay.

  She’d break down later. When she was alone.

  “Ranger Banning, come in.”

  Struck by inspiration, she picked up the radio and transmitted three taps. After a short pause, she tapped three more times. Then she clicked over to channel three and waited, hoping the operator would take the hint.

  “Ranger Banning, is that you?”

  She gripped the radio until her knuckles went white. The transmission wasn’t from Dispatch, and the voice sounded very close.

  “We have Faith.”

  “Don’t answer,” Sam warned.

  Worried that he’d try to interfere, she edged away from him as she pressed the button. “This is Ranger Banning.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Let me talk to my sister,” she said.

  Faith’s cry of distress rang out in the background.

  A chill traveled up Hope’s spine. She had no idea how they’d found a way to communicate with her. Modern scanners could pick up signals, but only employees with programmed radios could respond.

  She moistened her lips, glancing at Sam. “What do you want?”

  “A guide to the cargo.”

  “Say no,” Sam ordered.

  “Come to the waterfall by the moon-shaped meadow. Alone.”

  Mist Falls. It was only three miles away. “I’ll be there in an hour.”

  The transmission ended.

  Sam gaped at her. “You can’t go.”

  “Why?”

  “They’ll kill you after you help them.”

  Hope would worry about that when Faith was safe. She’d “gotten rid of” her baby. She wasn’t giving up on her sister. “Stay here,” she said. “Or head back to Kaweah. It doesn’t matter. I’m going to the falls.”

  “I won’t let you.”

  She pulled the gun from her waistband and pointed it at his chest. “You know that thing you said earlier, about not having a choice?”

  His eyes darkened with regret.

  “Don’t follow me,” she said, leaving him there.

  * * *

  JAVIER JOGGED NORTH until he found the trail that led toward the twin peaks.

  Heart pumping, he skirted around the fork in the path, not wanting to leave footprints at this critical junction. He continued to walk alongside the trail for several miles until it passed through a copse. At that point, the path was covered with leaves, and crashing through the underbrush would make an obvious disturbance.

  He emerged from the trees and climbed uphill, so worried about being followed that he almost forgot to pay attention to what lay ahead. As he reached the top of the slope, the hairs on the back of his neck prickled with awareness. Instead of continuing down the other side, he ducked behind a boulder, his pulse thundering in his ears.

  When he looked around the rock, he caught a glimpse of a man in the distance. Cursing, he flattened his belly against the ground and edged forward, studying the approaching threat from a safer position.

  The guy was alone and unarmed. Although he wore a park uniform, he probably wasn’t a member of law enforcement. He had a radio attached to his belt, along with a flashlight or pepper spray. Javier estimated his height at well over six feet. He had a lean build. He was young. He looked a little green.

  Javier could probably take him. Even so, he hesitated, giving the man a closer study. He sized up all of his opponents based on his experience in the boxing ring and his work as an enforcer for Gonzales. There was something different about this guy. Unlike Caleb and Ted, he proceeded with caution, scanning the landscape. He expected trouble. Javier would have a hard time sneaking up on him.

  He’d also promised Faith he wouldn’t kill anyone else.

  Maybe Javier should let the scout pass by. But logic told him he wouldn’t get another opportunity to disguise himself.

  He scrambled back down the hillside, into the copse. He found a good hiding spot and drew his gun. Normally he’d wait for the mark to walk past him in a situation like this. Worried that the worker would sense his presence, Javier jumped out from behind the tree trunk and rushed at him with a feral yell.

  “Turn around,” he said, aiming the gun between his startled blue eyes. “Turn around and put your hands up or I’ll fucking shoot you!”

  The guy was stunned, but he wasn’t stupid. Javier was blocking his path. He had no choice but to comply. Hands raised, he turned slowly, getting a good look at Javier as he faced the opposite direction.

  “Don’t look at me, motherfucker! Take off your backpack.”

  He shrugged out of the pack and let it drop.

  Javier kicked it aside. “Now get down on your knees.”

  This order was met with some resistance. The park employee stared straight ahead, his shoulders taut with tension.

  “Get down on your fucking knees,” Javier repeated.

  Keeping his hands up, the man lowered himself to the ground.

  “Take
off your clothes.”

  The worker glanced over his shoulder at Javier, his expression guarded.

  “What the fuck are you looking at? Take off your clothes, bitch.”

  Moving his gaze forward, the park employee unbuttoned his shirt with shaking hands. His fear wasn’t unfounded, but there was an edge to it that Javier didn’t understand. He glanced around, keeping his gun trained on the back of the ranger’s head. When he refocused on his target, he noticed a scar on the side of his neck.

  It looked like a burned-off tattoo.

  The worker removed his shirt, revealing more ink on his back. Javier couldn’t think of the English word for the symbol, but he knew what it meant. The three-pronged leaf, or trébol, was used by an Aryan gang in prison.

  This man had been inside. Well, well. No wonder he didn’t want to get down on his knees or take off his clothes. Other than the tattoos, he was a real pretty boy, with short blond hair and nice features.

  Javier had a soft spot for abused women and children, but his sympathies didn’t extend to white supremacists. Behind bars, they’d be enemies. He wouldn’t hesitate to beat a guy like him to a pulp.

  “Now the pants, muñeco,” he said. “Show me that sweet ass.”

  “Fuck you,” the guy said from between clenched teeth. “You’ll have to kill me first.”

  “Just give me your pants,” Javier said, impatient. “I don’t want anything else from you.”

  Shoulders trembling, he lowered his hands to his belt. He must have believed Javier wasn’t planning a sexual assault, because he unfastened his pants and unzipped the fly. When two shots rang out, the park employee jumped at the sound.

  “Who was that?” Javier asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Are there other officers in the area?”

  His hesitation indicated that he was alone.

  Javier glanced toward the river, wavering. This worker was his meal ticket. He probably had a set of keys in his pocket, and a vehicle parked at the trailhead. If Javier went back to check on Faith, he’d lose his chance to escape.

  He pictured her lovely face. Her lips trembling against his.

  “Fuck!”

  Abandoning the idea of stealing the man’s uniform, Javier tucked the gun into his waistband and took off running. The gunshots sounded as though they’d come from the south, where he’d last seen her.

  When he glanced back, Javier saw the park worker jogging after him, his shirt flapping open. The guy had balls. He also had longer legs than Javier. By the time they reached the fork, he’d almost caught up with him.

  Javier hooked a right, his lungs burning. It was a short distance to the bloodstained trail. Caleb and Ted were lying in the middle of the path. Haphazardly discarded, rather than hidden. Faith wasn’t with them.

  When he got closer, Javier realized the men weren’t dead. Ted was unconscious. Caleb appeared to have a gunshot wound in his left leg. He’d managed to stop the bleeding, but he was in bad shape.

  Javier dragged a hand down his face, shocked by the scene. These guys were harmless. Their only crimes were arrogance, stupidity and marijuana possession. Now they were hurt, maybe dying, and Faith was in danger. This was all Javier’s fault.

  The ranger stood at a distance, waiting to see what he’d do. Javier examined the ground for footprints, but they went both directions. He didn’t know where to go. He had to save Faith, and he needed help.

  Setting the gun on the ground, he held his hands up in the air. The irony of the situation didn’t escape him. He was placing himself at another man’s mercy, after having threatened and ridiculed him.

  The worker approached warily.

  “I’m Javier Del Norte,” he said.

  “Owen Jackson.”

  “The men who did this...they kidnapped a woman named Faith.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I left her with them an hour ago.” He pointed at Caleb and Ted.

  Owen used his radio to report the accident, requesting wilderness medics. When Ted regained consciousness, he groaned at the sight of Javier hovering over him.

  “I have to go after Faith,” Javier said. “I think they’re going to kill her.”

  The young man glanced down the trail. “They went that way,” he said, gesturing north. “Three sets of shoes.”

  “I’m following them.”

  Owen hesitated, studying the injured men. “Can you hang on until the medics arrive? They should be here soon.”

  Ted said he’d be okay. Caleb didn’t look good, but his bleeding was under control, and there wasn’t much they could do for him.

  “I’ll come with you,” Owen said to Javier.

  Nodding, he bent to pick up his gun. He thought about apologizing for the ass comment, but perhaps that subject was better left untouched. Owen buttoned up his shirt, covering a bold tattoo over his stomach.

  “What were you in for?” Javier asked.

  “None of your fucking business.”

  Fair enough. Javier didn’t really care about Owen’s past or his future. At present, they were allies. “Let’s go, then.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  HOPE APPROACHED MIST Falls, her stomach churning.

  She didn’t see anyone. There was a large pool at the base of the waterfall, feeding into the Kaweah. The rushing rapids drowned out all other sounds, and moisture rose like a cloud, coating the rocks nearby with a dewy sheen.

  Although the scene was picturesque, she couldn’t appreciate its beauty. She glanced around, wondering if she should start climbing. As far as she knew, Sam had listened to her warning and stayed behind. He hadn’t tried to stop her.

  Her radio beeped. “Throw your gun into the water and come to the top.”

  She depressed the talk button, her eyes swimming in the harsh sunlight. Over the past hour, the temperature had warmed at least ten degrees. By noon, it would be sizzling hot. “Is my sister up there?”

  “You’ll see her.”

  Heart slamming against her ribs, she removed the weapon from her waistband and tossed it into the jade-green pool. She felt naked without it, but the request wasn’t unexpected. They wouldn’t allow an armed woman to approach. As long as Faith wasn’t hurt, Hope would cooperate with these men. There was nothing she wouldn’t do for her sister.

  The path to the summit was a steep, slippery climb, popular with cliff divers because of the deep water below. Rangers had placed a bolted line along the edge of the falls for safety. She used the rope when she needed to, grasping rock handholds when she didn’t.

  Near the top, a man emerged from between boulders. It was Leather, although he wasn’t wearing his jacket anymore. His black T-shirt was damp and his pants were bloodstained.

  “Where’s Faith?” she asked.

  He glanced across the falls.

  Her sister was on the other side with Poncho, who had also discarded his outerwear. Faith’s hands and feet were bound. A strip of cloth bisected her mouth. She’d been crying. Her face was streaked with tears and mud.

  Hope’s chest constricted at the sight. “Let her go.”

  “After you guide me to the cargo.”

  “I’ll tell you where it is.”

  “You’ll show me,” he countered.

  “I want to stay with Faith.”

  “No. You come with me. Your sister stays here.”

  She moistened her lips, deliberating. They’d asked for a guide, not a map, so she’d anticipated this argument. If she refused, they might kill her and Faith. They might do that anyway. A helicopter flew over the falls, hovering nearby.

  “This is our ride,” Leather said. “Take it or leave it.”

  She took it.

  Her hair whipped around her neck as she followed him away from the waterfall, into an adjoining meadow. The helicopter set down long enough to allow them to board. Hope climbed in first, prodded by Leather. Her eardrums were about to explode. She wasn’t offered any protection. After taking Hope’s radio away, Leather
signaled the pilot to lift off.

  The trip to Angel Wings only took a few minutes, but the pilot couldn’t find a suitable place to land. The wind was too high and the terrain too rugged. He finally found a spot near the summit. She hopped out, ducking her head to avoid the propeller. Leather joined her.

  Hiking uphill through underbrush was brutal. Hope put one foot in front of the other, ascending as slowly as possible. She didn’t have to feign exhaustion. She was tired and hungry and thirsty.

  When they arrived at the stash, she pointed it out and sat down, relieved that her duty was done. The pilot flew over, dropping a large net from the helicopter. Leather retrieved the net and spread it out on the ground.

  “Go get the bags,” he ordered.

  “Do it yourself.”

  He grabbed her wrist and jerked her upright, shoving her toward the boulders.

  She stumbled forward, her mind numb. As she got closer to the crevice, she noticed that some of the bags were missing. There was a faint shoe print in the damp, sandy dirt. It left the distinctive zigzag impression of a large hiking boot.

  Although the detail struck her as important, she didn’t mention it to Leather. He might destroy the boot print or blame Hope for the theft. She grabbed one of the duffel bags and dragged it to the net. Then another, and another. Leather loaded the bags in the center. The process seemed to take an eternity. Hope endured the strain in her shoulders, praying she’d be reunited with Faith when this was over. Imagining another outcome was impossible.

  She couldn’t think about Sam.

  After the last bag was tossed on top of the pile, Leather gave her an expectant look. “Where’s the rest?”

  “That’s all of them.”

  He counted the bags. “This is eight. There should be ten.”

  Hope shrugged. “Maybe there’s another hiding place.”

  Leather grabbed her by the arm and jerked her closer, shoving the barrel of his gun against her temple. “There were ten. You photographed them.”

  “Someone else was here,” she cried, her throat raw and her head aching. “There’s a boot mark in the dirt.”

  He went to inspect the ground, pulling her along with him. After a quick search of the area, he returned to the net, cursing in Spanish. He put his gun away, secured the cargo and called the pilot for a pickup.