Her Rocky Mountain Hero. Jen Bokal
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hole visible in the door directly behind where she’d been standing. Cody’s mouth went dry. He hadn’t meant for her to become a casualty, no matter her associates.
The voice in Cody’s head was strong and without remorse. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. He never should have allowed her to follow him from the cabin.
He looked back at her still body, her fingers splayed, as if in surprise. A volcanic rage rose inside Cody for having unwittingly played a role in the death of Viktoria Mateev. He’d never forgive himself, and yet the game was not over.
The gunman had gone silent, but Cody was far from safe. The other man was out there, somewhere, lying in wait for his chance to strike again. He stared at Viktoria, still angry at himself and full of disbelief. The tips of her fingers twitched, a movement so slight he was almost convinced that it was his imagination.
Then she lifted her eyes and sought out his.
A great wave of relief washed over Cody and for a moment, he thought that he might melt into the snow.
Cody pressed his palms down to the ground, in the universal sign for stay put. She gave a nod, just a quick lifting of the chin.
With Viktoria prone on the ground, Cody rose to one knee. He peered through the SUV’s window and scanned what he could see of the horizon. The cabin sat in a bowl with peaks on all sides. The surrounding woods were thick, shadows turning every tree into a possible perpetrator. Or vice versa.
A quick estimation of the bullet’s trajectory told Cody that the shooter was on the hill, in approximately the same place from which he’d been observing Viktoria and Gregory earlier. It was a prime location, with a view of the cabin’s front door, the driveway and the road beyond. The SUV was parked between the hill and the door, momentarily providing cover for Cody, but not Viktoria.
Another shot boomed, this one lower and only slightly to the right of where Viktoria lay on the ground. The next bullet shattered the doorjamb and the one after hit the ground in front of Viktoria, sending snow, gravel and dirt flying.
As unsafe as she was by the cabin, she would become an even easier target by running the five yards to the SUV. The only way it could be done was for him to provide her with cover. He hoped that she would continue to read his hand gestures.
Two fingers to his chest, then two to his gun and then the hill. Cody pointed from Viktoria to where he was, made a fist and extended three fingers, one at a time. He repeated the sequence for good measure. Her gaze was trained on him, her jaw tight. Cody held up one finger. He lifted a bit, ready to take aim and fire. A bullet punched a neat hole in the windshield. A spider’s web of cracks spread outward from the point of impact.
“Now,” he called out fast. She ran, low to the ground, and dove out, sliding in next to him. She took refuge behind the SUV’s quarter panel, so close to Cody that her rapid breath washed over his neck. A thin red line ran across her cheek as blood seeped from a wound.
“You’re bleeding,” he said. He placed a gloved hand to the cut. His pulse sped at the touch, fueled from adrenaline, no doubt—and this night that had suddenly gone awry.
“It’s splinters from the door,” she said. “I’ll be picking bits of wood out of my hair for weeks, if we survive.”
“We’ll survive.” Cody’s hand still rested on Viktoria’s cheek. He dropped it quickly, leaving a smudge of crimson on her milky skin.
Two more bullets rained down, striking the ground mere feet from where they sat. Ice and gravel flew upward and Cody shielded Viktoria with his body.
She was warm and soft. Her breath was sweet and minty. Her hair held the slight scent of the floral shampoo she used. He inhaled deeply and reminded himself that Viktoria was part of a case. More than that, he’d be damned before he allowed her beauty to distract him from what was truly important—justice.
Cody turned his attention back to the shooter on the hill, assessing the challenge he presented. “He’s a good shot.”
“So the men who kidnapped my son are armed and dangerous and good at what they do.” The panic in her voice was palpable. “They’ll take him to Moscow unless they’re stopped.”
Viktoria’s knowledge of the kidnapper’s plans confirmed Cody’s suspicion that she was intimately involved with Russian criminals. Even though he’d suspected it all along, having the evidence felt like a betrayal. Another cut to his heart. Well, scar tissue was the strongest and his scars made him tough enough to do his job without question or remorse. A lesser man might feel sorry for Viktoria Mateev.
“We need to know this guy’s location.” Slipping the pack from his back, he retrieved his night vision binoculars and powered them up. To find the shooter, he was going to have to make himself a target. He pulled the keys to the SUV from his pocket and pressed them into her hand. At least he could ensure that she had a way to save herself if he were shot or killed. “If I get hit, take this car and get out of here. Go.” He paused. He wanted to tell her to go to the sheriff’s office in Telluride. But since Cody feared that Sheriff Benjamin was somehow involved in the kidnapping, he let it be. He continued, “Contact Rocky Mountain Justice in Denver. Ask for Sir Ian Wallace. Tell him what happened. Got it?”
“Cody.” Viktoria placed her palms on the front of his chest. Even through the fleece, his skin instantly warmed at her touch. “Don’t get shot.”
“I’ll try not to.”
“Thank you,” she said earnestly, “whoever you are, for saving me.”
With a nod, Cody fixed his mind on where he thought the shooter would be located. He rose, just enough, and brought the night vision binoculars to his eyes. The crack of a pistol echoed off the hills and Cody ducked down. But, he had seen all he needed to see.
“Our shooter is just above the tree line. More than his location, the guy has a set of night-vision goggles, so he can see in the dark and fire at the same time. No question, we’re at a complete disadvantage.”
“If we shine a bright light in his face he’ll be blinded, right?”
Cody wanted to groan. Hollywood had ruined the public’s perception of law enforcement tactics.
“Let me guess,” he said, “you saw that in a movie.”
Viktoria shrugged. “Several.”
“It doesn’t work that way.” Then again... Sometimes the simplest solutions were the most effective. “We’ll try it. Get into the driver’s seat, Viktoria, but stay low. Turn the SUV about forty-five degrees and when I tell you, turn on the high beams.”
She drew her brows together. “How do you know my name?”
Cody had never intended to lie to Viktoria. He had been hired to do a perfectly legitimate job. Sure, spying on her wasn’t part of his assignment, but his presence had saved her life. Why, then, did he hesitate in telling her the truth? He didn’t have time to question his motivations.
Instead of answering her question, he said, “This guy is going to keep shooting at you. But, I’m going to be firing back, which should hinder his aim. Just be ready when I tell you to turn on the lights. Got it?”
Thankfully Viktoria didn’t press him again about his knowing her name, although he doubted she’d forgotten. Then again, if his plan didn’t work, she might not have another chance to ask.
* * *
Viktoria opened the driver’s side door as two more bullets rained down. She dove into the car and huddled on the floorboard, frozen with terror.
Then she thought of her son and her fear no longer mattered. She quickly pulled the door shut. Her heart racing, she gripped the key fob with such ferocity that it dug into her flesh.
Another crack of a gun. Another echo on the hills. Another puff of gun powder filling the air. She eased into the seat and glanced into the rearview mirror. The long driveway stretched out like a black ribbon, pulled taut. Viktoria could