Wilderness Pursuit Page 7

  “I’m through!” Kara whispered. “But there’s a sharp piece of metal sticking out about halfway through the drop. Come through headfirst. I’ll grab your shoulders and guide you.”

  He took a deep breath and slid on his belly under the bed. As his shoulders brushed the bottom bar of the bed frame, he feared he might have to shimmy back out and move the entire thing, risking the sound of a heavy object scraping across the floor. He sucked in his stomach and tried again, breathing a sigh of relief when he made it through. The motion caused his shoulders to touch the frame again, so he held his breath until he reached the hole. When he looked through, he saw Kara crouching in the small space under the trailer. She reached for him as he pushed forward with his feet, wrapping her arms around his torso to guide him into the dark crawl space.

  Once through, Kara showed him the sharp piece of metal she’d used to cut her bonds. Seconds later, they were free—or at least freer than they’d been minutes before. They crawled out from underneath the trailer, and Sam tried unsuccessfully to brush brownish-black streaks of mold and decomposed wood from the front of his shirt. They were both covered in it, which presented an additional complication—one unexpected sneeze could give them away.

  “Should we go for the horses?” Kara gestured toward the other end of the trailer, but there were two windows they had to pass by before reaching the covered structure. The windows were high enough on the outer wall that they’d be able to duck underneath to avoid detection, but their caution would be all for nothing if they rounded the corner near the horses and ran into a hired gun playing lookout.

  “Stay here,” he whispered. “I’ll go around the side and make sure there’s no one watching at the front. Then we’ll get Brenik and Zephyr and ride into the woods on the far side. The covered structure should block us from sight and hopefully give us time to make a head start.”

  Her nod bolstered his confidence. The amount of trust they had to place in each other right now was mildly overwhelming, considering their personal history. Sam scurried around the side of the trailer and saw no one standing around outside. The front lawn contained only a dark blue pickup truck attached to the small cart that had brought them there, plus several ATVs haphazardly parked in the pseudo-driveway. He jogged back to Kara, who’d already started inching her way down the side of the trailer. He joined her as she crossed underneath what he suspected was the kitchen window, each step painstakingly careful so as to not create any sound. They still heard muffled voices coming from inside, but it didn’t sound like anyone had raised an alarm. Their absence remained undetected.

  And then the window slammed open. On instinct, Sam grabbed Kara’s arm and pulled her against the trailer, flattening their bodies tightly underneath the windowsill. She looked back at him and he pressed a finger to his lips. A single sound, an audible breath, and they’d be caught.

  “...will arouse suspicion,” came the foreman’s voice through the window. “Nothing can point back to the company. We get rid of them real quiet and then Tigh makes sure the next one is young and pliable. None the wiser, we pay the new archaeo-hack off to pass the site inspection if we need to, and everyone’s happy. That’s how it was supposed to work in the first place. It’s just a minor complication this one went down the way it did. There, window’s open, now stop complaining about the smell.”

  “I appreciate the fresh air, but I’m not getting paid enough to deal with bodies,” said another man, disdain seeping through every word. “I agreed to remove the old stuff and the bones, make it look like no one had ever been there, and get paid. That was it.”

  Someone’s fist slammed on a table. Mike spoke again. “And you didn’t do a very good job, did you? Any two-bit dig monkey could see the place had been hacked up. No fancy degree required for that.”

  Sam stole a glance at Kara, whose expression darkened at the insult. He didn’t blame her for being irritated, but he also hoped she’d keep perspective and not let their words get to her.

  “So why not offer the bribe anyway instead of hog-tying those two and carting them up here?” said the first guy. “They might have taken it. Saved us the hassle of this mess.”

  The foreman snorted. “And risk the Mountie going back to town and turning us in? Sinking the entire company? No company, no one gets paid. And you sure are getting paid enough to deal with bodies. I know what Gaida Industries offered you, and I know it because I set the terms. If the girl had been out there on her own this morning, I’d have tried that first, but the Mountie complicates things and we’re left with no choice but to get rid of them both. He’s collateral damage, but it’s his own fault.”

  “For doing his job?”

  “For getting in the way of ours!” The foreman was shouting now, making no effort to keep from being overheard. He likely assumed that no one in their right mind would be up in this part of the forest except for their little team. “Now, I don’t want to hear another word from any of you unless it’s a way to make this disposal look accidental. Totally unable to be traced back to the company. I’ll even ask Tigh for a bonus for the man with the winning idea. Got it?”

  The men in the trailer grumbled, but the voices grew quieter until the only sounds coming through the open window were those of dishes being stacked and chairs being dragged across the floor. Sam had a sudden, sinking feeling. No one had checked on them during their time inside the room, but a conversation like this would likely prompt at least one of the men to do so, especially now that their presence—and “disposal”—was top of mind.

  “Go!” Sam whispered to Kara. “Stay quiet but move quickly. I have a feeling we’ll be having company soon.”

  She took off and he followed. They rounded the back of the covered structure, peering around the front first to make sure none of the men had stepped out of the trailer in the few minutes since Sam had checked. Relief and hope trickled through Sam’s veins. All they needed to do was untie Brenik and Zephyr, and they’d be on their way with no one the wiser.

  Or so he assumed—until they slipped inside the structure and Brenik saw his master and friend again. Brenik’s twitching ears swiveled and he pawed at the ground, pulling against the tether that had been irresponsibly attached to one of the structure’s flimsy crossbeams. Sam didn’t see any sign of water or blankets. What were these men thinking, keeping the horses like this? He’d even told them the bare minimum of what was needed, but the space was in even worse shape than it had appeared from a distance. There were used paint cans and ATV parts strewn about on the ground. Several tires and a small stack of firewood had been piled in the corner. Perfect for a horse to bump into or step on, risking injury. Then again, these men had no respect for human life, so why had he assumed they would respect animals?

  Sam moved closer to Brenik with his hand extended, expecting to be greeted with nuzzling against his palm, but the horse suddenly stamped his feet and snorted. Loudly. When he did it a second time, Sam wanted to smack himself. Why didn’t I consider the horses might make noise? They’re nervous and scared. Of course they’re going to make a racket.

  He heard the click of a door handle turning. Kara’s worried eyes met his, and he whispered a prayer to a God he wasn’t sure even cared anymore, begging for a few moments longer, for just enough time to untie at least one of the horses and make a break for it.

  “Over here,” Kara whispered, grabbing his wrist. She dragged him to the back of the structure, dangerously close to the horses’ back legs, and then dropped to the ground behind the tiny stack of firewood. It was possibly the shoddiest cover he’d ever attempted to hide behind, but without another option, he dropped down beside her, stomach to the earth, their faces turned away to face the back wall. He rested one hand protectively across Kara’s shoulders, his anger rising as her entire body trembled with fear. Or was it adrenaline? Regardless, somehow and some way, he would get them out of this. He would get justice for her, a woman of principle who
had only been trying to go above and beyond in her job description. And this was how her efforts were being rewarded? He’d never been more certain of his decision to follow his father’s and his brothers’ footsteps into the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.

  When he was younger, he’d vowed never to pursue a career in law enforcement. Having an RCMP officer for a father had meant being forced to toe the line while growing up, and he’d felt suffocated by his family’s rigid rules and structure. During high school, he’d entertained notions of becoming an Olympic swimmer or backpacking across the country with nothing but a guitar and a sense of adventure, but even those dreams had been temporary and ephemeral. He’d scoffed at planning and assumed the world would bend to his needs as they arose. After all, he had the love of the perfect girl, so what else mattered?

  Then Kara had called him lazy. Aimless. Lacking ambition. And those were the nicest things she’d said. Then she took off for college across the border and refused to talk to him again. Losing Kara had been a wake-up call, because she’d been right. She had been his structure, his ambition, his purpose. And without her, he’d been more lost than ever.

  He still wasn’t sure what had possessed him to enroll in the RCMP Academy shortly after that, but he hadn’t regretted it for a day. Twenty-six weeks of training later and he’d found his purpose again. And now, looking back...yes, it had been because of her. Kara had changed his life in more ways than one, and for the better. In return, he could at least keep her safe through this ordeal.

  The horses continued to snort and stamp as footsteps pounded down the steps of the trailer and shuffled the short distance to the entrance of the covered structure.

  “What’s their problem?” growled one of the same voices they’d heard inside. “It’s too early for bears.”

  “Too early for bears?” said another. “You out of your mind? Bears wander around during the daytime as much as we do, but if it was a bear, those horses would be doing a lot more than snorting like that. Idiot.” This man’s voice was high-pitched and angry, and sounded very much like the same man who’d been complaining earlier about his payment. Clearly, not everyone was as thrilled with the arrangement of working for Gaida Industries as the foreman had assumed. “Probably a raccoon ran in here or something. Or a bird. Horses get freaked at any little thing.”

  “Now who’s the idiot? The only raccoon out during the daytime is a raccoon with rabies.” The men’s voices grew quieter as they sauntered away, back to the trailer. Sam’s heart raced even faster as he sprung up from his hiding place and resumed untying the horses. Brenik began to whinny, happy to see him but confused at the circumstances.

  “I’ve almost got Brenik,” Sam said, pulling on the final loop. He glanced over at Kara, who was fumbling with Zephyr’s knot. The horse wasn’t making it easy for her, and things were going to get dangerous very quickly if everyone didn’t calm down long enough to get out of there. “Hang on, Kara, I can help—”

  He took two steps toward her when a familiar click sounded next to his head.

  “You’ve done enough.” The foreman stepped around Zephyr’s haunch, gun pointed at...the horse? “Another move and she’s off to the rainbow bridge.”

  Sam almost laughed in disbelief, but held it in lest the sound anger Mike even further. “You’d kill an animal worth thousands of dollars? Do you have any idea how valuable an RCMP-trained horse is?”

  “Shut up,” Mike growled. “You two think you’re so clever, eh? Let’s see you cleverly solve your way out of this.”

  For the second time that day, pain exploded across the back of Sam’s skull and the world went dark.

  SIX

  “Wakey, wakey, lawman.”

  Someone slapped Sam on the cheek. He blinked and twisted away, trying to escape the painful blows, but his body wouldn’t move. His shoulders and arms were rigid and unresponsive, and in an instant, he recalled seeing the foreman’s face right before agony had erupted across his skull.

  Kara! Did they hurt her? A flood of panic sent adrenaline rushing through his system, bringing him back to full consciousness. His eyes flew open, and he stared directly into the face of the last person he wanted to see.

  “Good morning, Mountie.” Mike grinned and stood upright, taking a few steps back. “Or should I say, good night. And goodbye.”

  Sam strained to react, but with his eyes open, he now saw that he’d been restrained—tied to a tree in a seated position. Kara was tied up next to him, eyes closed, her chest moving ever so slightly. Was she awake? Unconscious? Or simply trying to stave off panic? He’d help her after he figured out what was going on.

  Then the scent of peanut butter wafted through the air, and confusion set in even further.

  “Goodbye?” Sam tested his voice, which cracked on the word. His throat felt dry, but he pressed his next sentences out with force. “I guarantee that whatever you have planned, it’s not goodbye. You and I aren’t finished yet. I have every intention of seeing you and everyone else at Gaida Industries who’s responsible behind bars. For a very, very long time.”

  Mike shook his head and sighed. “Look around you, lawman. It’s not going to happen. I don’t like this dirty work any more than you like being the target, but I also love money and the idea of being financially set for life. It’s nothing personal, you understand. Believe it or not, I have a family to take care of, too.”

  “He’s sick,” muttered Kara. Sam glanced at her. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “He’s totally sick. Look around us.”

  It took a moment for her words to register, but when they did, Sam followed her gaze and found himself staring at the ground in disbelief. Food had been strewn all around them, including half-empty tubs of peanut butter, raw hot dogs and apples. Crushed cookies were tossed over their clothes, and Sam thought he identified the smears across their pant legs as smooshed bananas.

  “He’s leaving us to the bears,” she continued. “These guys aren’t going to shoot us. They’re going to make sure we get torn apart instead. If we’re killed by grizzlies, all they have to do is remove these ropes, add some extra props to make it look like we were camping or spending the night on the dig site irresponsibly, and no one will be any wiser.”

  Sam’s stomach lurched at the brilliance and the depravity of the plan. “Bear attacks are pretty cut-and-dry. I’ve only ever heard of one happening in this area during my time stationed here, but there wasn’t much left to investigate once it was all said and done.”

  “Exactly.” The foreman clapped his hands together, then shook them out. “Well, boys, I think we’re done here. No need for emotional speeches.” And true to his words, he walked away, footsteps crunching through the underbrush. Moments later, several ATV engines fired up and rumbled away, leaving Sam and Kara alone, tied to a tree and covered in food.

  “Cowards!” Kara’s breath came in ragged gasps as she tried to gain control of herself, and Sam wanted nothing more than to be able to reach over and comfort her. “I’m sorry,” she finally said.

  “We’ve been over this,” he replied, trying not to growl in frustration. “It’s not your fault.”

  “No, I mean back at the trailer. I distracted you from untying Brenik. If I hadn’t been so noisy and unfocused, you might have noticed the foreman slipping in behind us, and—”

  “Why are you so quick to blame yourself?” He tried to twist toward her, but the ropes that bound them had little give. Only their legs were free, positioned straight out in front of them. He wondered for a moment why they’d been tied sitting down, but the answer came too easily. Their throats were more exposed to a predator at this height. Their injuries would be more realistic of campers attacked at night while sleeping. Mike, or whoever was giving the foreman instructions, really had thought of everything. “Playing a blame game isn’t going to help either of us. We need to come up with a plan, fast.”

  He tried to t
ake in the space around them, to see where they’d been tied, but twilight had long since passed and the woods were lit only by moonlight.

  “We’re back at the site,” Kara said. “If that’s what you’re trying to figure out. They knocked you out but kept me awake. They knew I wouldn’t run without you, because of what I said before—I’d have gotten even more lost. At least they only tied my hands back up for the trip here.”

  Sam squinted at her in the darkness. “Did they hurt you? Kara, I’m sorry. I wish I’d been conscious.”

  “Now who’s playing the blame game?” Her smile was tight. “But there’s one bright spot in all this. These guys have been underestimating me from the very beginning. They forgot that as an archaeologist, my skills of observation are finely honed. Sam, I think I can find a way back to the trailer.”

  “Back to the trailer?” He leaned his head against the tree trunk. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. One situation at a time, right? We have to find a way out of these bonds, and if we’re at the dig site, we can just go back to town when we’re free and come back with help.”

  Kara shook her head and Sam wanted to argue, but he held his tongue. “The trailer isn’t actually that far from here. I’m telling you, it’s a shorter distance between here and the trailer than it is between here and town. And we’re covered in food smells, so even if we manage to get free, we might still attract bears with our scent. It’d be smart to get ourselves some speedy transportation.”

  “The ATVs? Or are you talking about the horses? They might be a little calmer now, tired out from the day. Hopefully one of those dunces thought to give them water and blankets.” Sam pulled his knees up to his chest. “It’s an idea. I’m not going to say I’m totally opposed. But we have a much bigger problem to solve first.”