Elizabeth Goddard - Fugitive Trail

“I’m with you. And Bryce? It’s good to be working with you again. I wish you would have stayed with the BPD. You’re always welcome to come back. We could always use another good detective.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Captain. I’ll keep that in mind.” At the very back of his mind. He ended the call.

Bryce leaned against the wall to watch the tourists entering the shops or merely window shopping.

Across the street, next to the toy store, he spotted a big man, his hood covering his face. The guy’s build was the right size. He could be Raul.

Sierra appeared in the glass doorway of the store, stepped out onto the sidewalk and turned left to walk up the street. Where was she going?

His gut tensed. Bryce started across the street. The big man turned and walked away from the store as if to follow Sierra.

Bryce trailed him, picking up his pace. If this was Raul gunning for her, Bryce couldn’t let him hurt Sierra. Nor could he let him get away.

The man increased his pace and headed directly for Sierra.

“Sierra! Watch out!” Bryce shouted but he wasn’t sure if she could hear him over the bustling crowd and the traffic.

Sierra jerked around at the same moment the man was on her. He grabbed her, then threw her against the wall. He wielded a knife, but Sierra dodged his strike.

“Hey!” Bryce called out as he weaved through pedestrians and sprinted toward Sierra and her attacker.

The man jerked his attention to Bryce then threw Sierra down hard as if she was nothing but a rag doll. He pushed his way through the tourists to escape, bumping shoulders with people as he passed, and knocking a man and his child over.

Bryce caught up to Sierra and tried to help her to her feet.

“Go, get him!” She pointed. “I’ll radio the sheriff.”

Bryce ran after the man, but the attacker climbed onto a motorcycle and sped away. The chase wasn’t over yet though. The traffic and tourists would slow the motorcycle and that would be Bryce’s only chance of catching him. Bryce pushed himself, dashing between cars and people, shouting that he was coming through. The motorcycle turned right at the corner, away from the heavy traffic in the town’s center. When Bryce made it to the corner, his legs slowed. He was good for a marathon but not for a sprint. Up ahead, he spotted the motorcycle speeding out of town.

There was only one main highway out of town, but there were numerous forest service roads. Bryce would never catch up to the man he suspected had to be Raul, but once notified, the Colorado State Patrol would ramp up their search. Bryce wanted to believe that Raul would be captured. The fact that the convict had stayed around the area this long knowing that law enforcement was searching for him didn’t reassure Bryce about Sierra’s safety.

Catching his breath, Bryce turned to make his way back to Sierra.

What would have happened if Bryce hadn’t been there, watching the toy store when she was attacked? Would Raul have gotten the best of her despite her defensive efforts?

He couldn’t bear it if something happened to her. Bryce would camp out at her place if that’s what protecting her required. He had the feeling the hotel across the street might not be close enough.

That night Bryce had dinner with Sierra as planned, in spite of the events of the afternoon. In spite of Raul’s attack on her in broad daylight. The guy had no fear.

That alone had shaken Bryce to his core, though he tried to hide that fact from Sierra. He’d also tried to dissuade her from dinner at the café.

“I won’t let him ruin my life here,” she’d said.

After chasing after Raul and failing to capture him, Bryce had found Sierra in her kitchen, calming her nerves by petting Samson.

And now here they sat across from each other in a booth, trying to pretend everything was normal. Trying, and failing.

He’d been relieved when the waiter took their barely eaten food away. Neither of them had much of an appetite, and in that way, Raul was succeeding in ruining her life, as she put it.

Add to that, here in the café, they were probably too exposed.

“I’ll see you back home,” he said. Maybe if he stuck close to her Raul wouldn’t be so bold. And maybe law enforcement had chased him far from here after today. In the meantime, he’d seen an increase in state law enforcement in town, adding to the county sheriff’s meager presence. Sierra was as well protected as she could be.

But until he heard that the criminal had been caught, he would remain on high alert.

Nodding her agreement, she eased from the booth. “I’ll need to take Samson for a walk. Want to come?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t mind spending more time with him.” He hitched a grin. “Oh, okay, and you too.”

He kept the conversation light, but neither of them was feeling it. The heaviness of Raul’s escape and pursuit of Sierra was pulling them both down.

“You know, walking Samson could be a problem if Raul is still here in town.” Walking a dog was one of those daily routines that tended to follow a predictable pattern—and that could be dangerous, even if the dog was a massive K-9 mountain search dog.

“It’s not like it can be helped.” Her eyes glistened in the low lighting of the café. “Samson has to be walked.”

“Maybe I can do that for you instead.”

She shook her head. “I won’t put you in danger like that.”

He knew, like him, she hoped it would be over soon.

Sierra paused at the door to thank Miguel, the café owner. The man’s smile and warm gaze told Bryce that he was interested in Sierra. Bryce swallowed the shard of jealousy that surged up his throat. Then he escorted her across the street and through the store. Samson’s deep throaty bark could be heard through the walls.

“It’s easier to go through the store than to walk all the way around the building and storefronts, through the alley and then back around, especially when the snow can get too deep and isn’t always plowed or shoveled. It’s a weird setup, I know. But living at the back of the store is super convenient for Dad.”

In the living room, her father sat in a recliner and flicked through television programs.

Bryce peered through the blinds at the dark woods. The light coming from the windows chased away few shadows. “It’s convenient, true, but it certainly isn’t the best setup for your current situation.”

Sierra grabbed the leash off the hook. “Good thing I’ve got my K-9 and my handgun.”

Right. Good thing. “Better keep the gun with you at all times then.” She certainly hadn’t had it with her today.

She nodded, but didn’t acknowledge his comment any further, turning to her father instead. “How was dinner?” she asked. To Bryce, she said, “He insisted on warming up leftovers—fried chicken tenders and green beans—in the microwave.”

“Probably better than what you ate at that restaurant.” Her father chuckled.

“Right. My cooking isn’t the best, I know, Dad. But the café’s food is definitely better.” Sierra attached the leash to Samson’s collar—more a formality than an actual restraint, due to Samson’s size.

She started to open the back door. Bryce touched her arm and leaned in to whisper. “I think it’s a good idea to avoid going out this back way for the foreseeable future.” He wouldn’t say more in front of Sierra’s father. He wasn’t sure how much she had shared with the man.

She frowned and nodded. “What was I thinking? You’re right.”

She led Bryce and Samson back through the storefront. She unlocked and then once again locked the door. Anxiety settled in his stomach. He shoved through the deepening snow and a snow berm to get to the plowed street. “I’ll be here first thing in the morning to shovel this away so customers can get to you.”