Aimée Thurlo - Restless Wind

“Deal.”

BY THE TIME THEY reached the resort it was nearly 3:00 a.m., and dark everywhere except for the river, which reflected the moonlight like a silver ribbon. They’d called Harris on the way, and Ranger knew that it was likely local law enforcement had beaten them there.

As Ranger turned onto the lane leading to the lodge, they heard a gunshot. Dana sat bolt upright in her seat.

Ranger took his pistol out of his belt and rested it on the cushion beside him as he raced up the graveled road. At the end of the pathway, he could see the lodge’s well-lit parking lot. A Montezuma County sheriff’s department cruiser was parked in front of a guest room.

Ranger pulled in slowly, alert for trouble. “The deputy’s door is open, but where is he?”

As they got closer Ranger spotted the downed officer on the gravel, his body hidden by the shade of the building. An instant later, they heard the roar of a car engine and the rattle of gravel. Dust flew up as a small sedan roared past them, heading down the long drive toward the highway.

Cursing, Ranger pulled up beside the downed officer’s car. “We can’t leave him. He’s injured,” he said, jumping out.

Seeing a light come on outside the lodge entrance, and a man sticking his head out the door, Ranger yelled out, “Call 911. An officer’s injured.”

“Okay,” came the response, and the man disappeared back inside.

Ranger bent down beside the officer, looking for signs of life and evidence of any wounds. There was a hole in the center of the deputy’s uniform shirt, but no blood. More lights came on as guests turned on porch lights and peered out their doors.

Then the officer stirred and sat up. “Man, that hurts!” he said, rubbing his chest.

Dana, who was looking over Ranger’s shoulder, gave the officer a big smile.

“Wearing a vest?” Ranger asked quickly.

“Yeah. Wife insists. Good thing. Did you get a look at the shooter?”

“No, but I’m going after him right now.” Ranger grabbed Dana’s hand, and ran back to his pickup.

Moments later, they were back on the highway. The dust cloud and skid marks showed the shooter had gone north at the junction, which would take him farther into the mountains.

Ranger made the turn smoothly, but the force yanked Dana sideways in her shoulder belt and she grabbed onto the seat.

“Those are his taillights,” Ranger said, accelerating even more. “Just hang on, we’ll catch him.”

Dana kept her eyes forward, concentrating on keeping the red taillights of Finch’s car in view. They were gaining ground.

“We’re chasing Marc Finch, right? Not somebody else who had a beef with the deputy?” she asked, her voice sounding a little high-pitched, even to herself. Although Ranger was an excellent driver, they were traveling at close to one hundred miles per hour.

“I don’t believe in coincidences,” Ranger replied, his eyes never leaving the road.

Ahead, she saw a triangular orange sign-a warning of a construction zone. The speeding car in front of them passed the spot, then began slowing rapidly.

When they reached a section of pavement that had been milled away, leaving small furrows lengthwise, Ranger cut his speed. It took an expert’s touch to just keep them in their lane, but the truck held its course.

They raced around a curve, and by then the fugitive was less than five car lengths ahead. He was wobbling badly back and forth in the center of the highway. Ranger touched the brakes, sensing they were closing in too fast.

“He’s either in trouble, or trying to keep us from passing him,” she said.

“He’s got two wheels on the high side, and two on the low, rough side. That’s making it hard for him to keep control of his car,” Ranger said. His headlights, the new extra-bright lamps, showed an object farther ahead, just beyond Finch’s car.

“Something’s on the road-a rock slide,” Dana said, leaning forward and gripping the dash.

The small sedan straddled the center line and Finch swerved back to the right, barely missing the loose rocks and debris. Suddenly there was a puff of smoke and pieces of his left rear tire flew back at them.

“Hang on!” Ranger called out. A chunk of rubber struck the windshield with a loud thump, then disappeared over the top of the car.

They zigged and zagged, the truck bouncing and skidding, but Ranger somehow kept them on the road. Dana’s eyes were glued on the car ahead. Then the sedan suddenly tumbled off the road and disappeared from sight.

Ranger slammed on the brakes, coming to a full stop. “Don’t move!” He put the truck in Reverse, backed up about fifty yards, then parked.

Ranger switched on the truck’s emergency flashers, then handed Dana his cell phone. “Try to get 911. I’m going down there,” he said, grabbing a large flashlight.

“I’ll follow you. I may be able to help.”

Dana contacted the local sheriff’s office, then inched down the steep mountain slope, using a smaller flashlight he’d kept on the console. The way was difficult and steep, but she took it slow, tracing Ranger’s route.

Finally she reached the car. It was upside down and nearly flat from the beating it had taken coming down the mountain side.

“I don’t see him anywhere and the driver’s door was ripped off.” Ranger shifted the beam to the area around the wreck, then stopped. “Found him.”

The light revealed Finch’s head, torso and right arm. The rest of his body was pinned beneath the vehicle, which reeked of gasoline.

“He was one of the kidnappers,” Dana said, fighting the sick feeling at the pit of her stomach. “But we can’t let him die like this. We’ve got to get him away from the car before it catches on fire.”

Ranger moved in closer, then realized the man was already dead. Though his eyes were open, they registered nothing.

Ranger took a step back as a flash, then sparks, ignited around them. A flame appeared on the ground at the front of the car, then spread upward into the engine compartment in just a few seconds.

“A fire extinguisher. The one in your truck,” Dana yelled. Before she’d even finished speaking, there was a loud whoosh and a wave of pure heat slammed against her.

“He’s dead,” Ranger said, forcing her back. “Move farther away. The gas tank’s going to go.”

Dana pulled free. “We’ve got to do something.”

“He’s beyond help, but you’re not.” He pulled her back hard, away from the inferno. “It’s over,” Ranger said, wrapping his arms tightly around her.

“Death is all we ever find!” Choking back sobs, Dana buried her head against his shoulder.

He held her tightly while she cried. Minutes passed, but he didn’t ease his hold until, exhausted, she stepped away. Before she could go far, he reached for her hand and pulled her back.

Ranger cupped her chin, forcing her to look at him. “We have made progress, Dana. We’re closing the net around Trujillo,” he said, then, in a soft but strong voice, added, “But more than that’s happening.”

He pointed to the clusters of fading yellow wildflowers still clinging to the hillside. “Open your eyes and you’ll see that even in sad times, there’s still beauty all around you. Life balances itself out, but you have to be open to the good it brings. If you look for the pattern, you’ll see that even evil has a purpose, and good is never far behind.”

Ranger bent down slowly and took her mouth in a kiss as gentle as a summer rain. She responded naturally to his tenderness, needing his love more than ever to balance against the violence that surrounded them.

At long last, hearing sirens in the distance, he eased his hold and took her hand. “Let’s climb back up to the top. An emergency crew will be here soon, so it’s time for us to move along quietly and quickly.”