Lena Diaz - Smoky Mountains Ranger

“Deep breaths,” he said. “Slow, deep breaths. You’ll be okay. Slow and easy.”

Somehow the sound of his voice calmed her. She dragged in a deep breath, then another. The knots in her stomach eased, and she could finally breathe normally without feeling like her stomach was trying to kill her.

Her world suddenly tilted as he scooped her up into his arms. Before she could even ask him what he was doing, he’d set her down several feet away beneath the branches of a thick stand of trees. The realization that he was giving them cover in case the bad guys were around had her stomach clenching with dread. She pressed a hand to her belly.

“This should help.” A bottle of water and a wet cloth appeared as if by magic as he handed them to her from the backpack he’d been carrying.

She rinsed her mouth out and spit. After a long drink, she washed her face with the cloth.

“Better?” He was on his knees in front of her, his brow furrowed with concern.

“Better. Thank you.” She swept her hair back from her shoulders. Heat flushed her skin at the realization of what had just happened. She groaned and covered her face. “I can’t believe you witnessed that. And that you helped me. I’m so embarrassed.”

He tugged her hands down. “Jody, what made you so upset? Who’s Tracy? Is she in trouble?”

She nodded miserably. “I think so. She texted me. That’s why I was on the trail. Well, partly, anyway. I mean, I was in the parking lot. But she wasn’t there, so I checked the bathrooms, and when I came out, that guy was there...and he started toward me. I saw his gun sticking out of his pocket, so I ran. I just ran. Then he was there, on the trail, with the gun—”

“Take a breath.” He took one of her hands in his. “Back up. Who is Tracy?”

A ragged breath shuddered out of her. “My sister.” She waved her hand. “Not a real sister. She’s my friend. My very best friend. I don’t have any biological siblings, just adoptive sisters and brothers. Not that I’m knocking adoptive families in general. I think they can be wonderful, for other people. But it hasn’t turned out so well for me. We don’t exactly visit each other or exchange Christmas cards.” She drew a deep breath. “Tracy is not part of my adoptive family. She’s my friend, my best friend, more of a sister to me than my adoptive sisters ever were. And her family is more of a family to me than my adoptive one.” She closed her eyes and fisted her hands against the tops of her thighs.

“Tattoo Guy, he did something to her? To Tracy?”

She nodded and looked at him. “He abducted her. At least, that’s what he told me. I didn’t know, or I swear I would have called the police. I would never do anything to risk her life.” She pressed her hand to her throat. “I think I may have just killed her. By running, with you. I shouldn’t have done that.” She squeezed her eyes shut again.

“Jody, I need you to be strong. For your friend, okay? I know it’s hard. But you have to hold it together so we can figure out what to do. All right?”

She nodded and opened her eyes. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for. I’m going to ask you some questions and I need you to give me the answers. Short and to the point. And we need to keep moving while we talk.” He pulled her to her feet. “Can you do that?”

“I’ll try. Yes. I’m sorry.” She grimaced. “I know. Quit saying that.”

He smiled and pulled her with him through the trees. “What’s Tracy’s full name?”

“Larson. Her name is Tracy Larson.”

“Is she your age?”

“Yes. Twenty-four. We went to school together, from grade school through high school. She didn’t go to college. I went to TSU, Tennessee State University, I... Sorry. Short and to the point. I forgot. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I went to TSU, too. When’s the last time you saw her?”

She patted her pocket to check the time of Tracy’s last text messages on her phone. But her pocket was empty. They all were. “My phone and keys are gone.” She shook her head. “I know. Doesn’t matter. I think the last I heard from her was at work yesterday. She’s full-time. I’m part-time. I left at my usual two o’clock.”

He steered her around a downed tree. “Friday at 2:00 p.m.? You’re sure?”

“Pretty sure. I’m not counting the fake text this morning. The guy with the gun must have sent that. He tricked me.”

“We’ll get to that in a second. Are you sure you didn’t talk to Tracy on the phone after 2:00 p.m.?”

“Talk?”

His mouth quirked up in a smile. “Forgive me. I’m a doddering thirty-year-old who actually uses phones for spoken conversations. Let me rephrase. Did you text each other? Share anything on social media?”

She surprised herself by laughing, which seemed obscene given the situation. She quickly sobered. “Sorry. But the idea of you being described as doddering is ridiculous. Trust me, most women my age would count themselves lucky to be with a guy as smokin’ hot as you.”

Her face flushed with heat as soon as the words left her mouth. She absolutely refused to look at him. “Text, yes, we texted a few times. Nothing seemed out of the norm. Then, this morning, I got a new text from her saying she needed to meet me, that it was urgent. She said she’d be waiting in the parking lot at the Sugarland Mountain trailhead. I went to the visitor center, and her car wasn’t there. I texted her to ask where she was, and she said in the parking lot on the other end of the trail, not the visitor center. So I headed there. Only, when I got there, her car wasn’t there, either.”

Tears burned the backs of her eyes, but she refused to give in to the urge to cry again. She swallowed against her tight throat and continued. “There were a couple of cars besides mine on the other side of the lot. One of them was a minivan with a family and kids. I didn’t see anyone in the other car, a black Charger. Not then. The family went to use the public facilities by the beginning of the trail. Tracy texted back that she’d be there in a few minutes and to wait. I ducked into the restroom, chatted with some of the people from the minivan. They left before me. When I came out, they were just pulling out of the parking lot. That’s when he got out of the car.”

“Who? The guy with the tattoos?”

“Yes. I started toward my car, then stopped. He was walking really fast, straight toward me. But there wasn’t anyone else around. And the men’s restrooms were on the other side of the lot. There was no reason for him to be hurrying toward me. I don’t know how to explain it. But he gave me the creeps, and he was between me and my car. I didn’t want to let him get too close. So I walked toward the trail. I looked over my shoulder, and that’s when I saw the gun.” She swallowed. “He had a pistol sticking out of his pants pocket. I ran. I hopped over the cattle gate blocking the trail and took off. And he took off after me.”

“Did he fire the gun?”

She frowned. “No. No, he never did. Not until you and I were running up the trail later.”

He nodded as if that made sense to him. “Go on. You ran. Then what happened?”

“I used to run track in high school. I was pretty fast. But I’m not used to running up mountains or having to hop over downed trees. I couldn’t sprint and pull away like I would in a flat footrace. He caught up to me right where you saw us. And he...he pointed his gun at me. And he...” She drew a ragged breath.

“You’re doing great, Jody. Slow, deep breaths. What did he do next? What did he say to you?”

As much as she wanted to be strong for her friend, she was having a hard time holding back her terror. What was happening to Tracy right now? What had that man done to her? Was she even alive or had he lied to her?