Lone Defender. Shirlee McCoy
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couldn’t be sure, but his gut said that the trouble they’d been waiting for was about to find them.
“The guy I came to find? He supposedly left town a week before I arrived. Thing is, he was still getting mail at his house. His truck was still in the driveway.”
“Could be he got a new ride. One that couldn’t be traced to him.”
“Could be, but people in Cave Creek seemed awfully closemouthed about a guy who’d only been in the area for a few months.”
“Small towns are notorious for protecting their own.”
“He wasn’t theirs.”
“Maybe not, but he belonged there more than you did.” The shadow moved again, and this time there was no doubt.
Human.
For sure.
Moving stealthily, keeping low.
Skylar tensed, and he knew she’d seen what he had. Danger closing in. “Your instincts were right. Now are you ready to get out of here?” Skylar stood again, and Jonas followed, grabbing his pack and pulling out extra ammo.
“What I’m ready to do doesn’t matter. What matters is what you’re capable of doing.”
“You don’t think I can climb out of here?” She lifted the gun she’d left near his pack, held it like it was part of her hand, part of her.
“How good of an aim are you?”
“You’re avoiding the question,” Skylar noted.
“And asking my own. How about we don’t waste time with verbal sparring?”
“I’m good. I was better before I left the force, but I still go to the range for target practice. You never know when being a crack shot could come in handy.”
“Wish I’d been thinking that way over the past few years,” Jonas remarked.
“You were a police officer?”
“Border patrol, but that was a lifetime ago.”
“How long of a lifetime?”
“Nearly four years.” He scanned the area below the mesa. The shadow had disappeared, fading into the rest of the landscape, but Jonas had no doubt the person was still there, still coming. And he wasn’t alone. There’d been other shadows moving in the past hour. Other furtive advances on the desert floor.
“That’s not so long. I’ve been out of the force for three.” She might have been making idle conversation, but Jonas sensed a change in her, a tension that spoke of the same need for action he felt.
“No, I guess it’s not.” And he guessed he hadn’t forgotten how to hold a gun, how to use it. Hadn’t forgotten the way adrenaline felt coursing through his body, the way every nerve ending came alive during the waiting and during the hunt.
Hadn’t forgotten.
Had maybe even missed it.
“You said we needed a plan. I think now is as good a time as any to come up with one, because that feeling you have? I’ve got the same one. Things are about to get ugly, and I’m not sure I want to be around when they do.”
“Go back in the cave and rest. If they start climbing, I’ll start shooting. If I need backup, I’ll call for it.”
“That’s your plan?” She sounded so disgusted Jonas would have smiled if the situation hadn’t been so serious.
“It’s that or climb, and I don’t think we’re in any condition to do that.”
“You don’t think I’m in any condition to climb, you mean.”
“Same thing.”
“How many people do you think are out there?” She didn’t argue, just lifted the rope from the place where he’d dropped it.
“I’ve counted at least seven. Probably closer to a dozen.”
“A dozen? I guess I really did make some friends in Cave Creek.” She ran a hand over her hair, staring down into the desert as if she could read it and the secrets it held.
“We’re both good shots. I have extra ammo. We’ll be fine.”
“Not if they have high-powered rifles and night vision. We start shooting, we give away our location. They’ll start shooting. There’s a good possibility the bad guys won’t be the only ones who die. We’re going to have to go with Plan B aka, my plan. We climb.”
“Grady—”
“To take a page from your book, how about we don’t waste time with verbal sparring? I can make it, but not if I spend too much time thinking about it.” She tied the end of the rope around her waist, tossed the other end to Jonas.
He could argue, or he could do what he’d been wanting to do for the better part of an hour—get out while he still could. Another fifty feet, and they’d crest the top of the mesa. Fifty feet wasn’t far. Not for a good climber, and Skylar obviously was one.
What she wasn’t, was healthy.
“It’s fifty feet, Grady. Up wet rock, in the dark. And it’s a long way down. We could both die.”
“We could both die, anyway, so I’m willing to take the chance. Besides, you didn’t seem all that worried when we had to climb a hundred.” She grabbed the end of the rope from his hand, leaned close to knot it around his waist.
“I was. I’m just good at hiding my feelings.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” She patted his cheek, her palm hot and dry, and he captured her hand, holding it when she would have pulled away.
“What are you planning, Grady?”
“An escape.” But there was something in her tone that didn’t ring true.
“And?”
“You go first. I’ll follow.”
“I don’t think so.” There was no doubt in his mind that she’d stay behind, stand her ground and fight until she was shot.
Blood spurting from a bullet wound to the chest, spilling out and over his hands.
He pulled his thoughts up short, refusing the memory as he checked the knot on Skylar’s end of the rope and then on his own.
“There are handholds carved into the rock to the left of the cave opening. First one is at foot level.” The notches had been carved thousands of years ago and had been used by native peoples for generations. For those who knew they were there, they were easy to find.
For others, the way up was more of a struggle.
Skylar slid her foot out, scrambled to find a notch. The rain had slowed, but it still fell, making the going more treacherous, the chance they were taking less certain.
He needed to call her back, tell her to forget it.
His plan would have to work.
He’d make it work.
There was no other choice. He couldn’t live with the knowledge that he’d failed to save someone who depended on him.
Not this time.
Not again.
Before he could stop her, she found her footing and climbed out into the rain, the rope tugging against his waist as she moved up and away. At least they had that. If she slipped, he might be able to keep her from falling, the rope between them a safety line that could keep her alive.
Her legs disappeared. Her feet. The rope tugged again, and then dropped, puddling near his feet and slithering over the edge of the cave.
She’d untied herself.
Weak,