Elle James - Hot Target

The sheriff straightened and walked slowly toward the deputy. “And there’s a trail of blood leading toward the tracks.”

Caveman circled wide, studying the ground until he saw what he thought he might find. “More tracks over here.” The tracks led toward a hill. Without waiting for permission, Caveman climbed the hill, parallel to the tracks. As the ground grew rockier, the tracks became harder to follow. At that point, Caveman looked for disturbed pebbles, scraped rocks and anything that would indicate a heavy four-wheeler had passed that direction.

At the top of the hill, the slope leveled off briefly and then fell in a sheer two-hundred-foot drop-off to a boulder-strewn creek bed below. Caveman’s stomach tightened as he spotted what appeared to be the wreckage of an ATV. “I found the ATV.” He squinted. What was that next to the big boulder shaped like an anvil? He leaned over the edge a little farther and noticed what appeared to be a shoe...attached to a foot. “I’m sorry to say, but I think I found Mr. Khalig.”

Grace scrambled to the top of the hill and nearly pitched over the edge.

Caveman shot out his hand, stopping her short of following the pipeline inspector to a horrible death. “Oh, dear Lord.”

Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, Caveman pulled her against him.

She burrowed her face into his chest. “I should have stayed.”

“You couldn’t,” Caveman said. “You would have been shot.”

“I could have circled back,” she said, her voice quivering.

“On that trail?” Caveman shook his head. “No way. You did the right thing.”

Sheriff Scott appeared beside Caveman. “Mr. Decker’s right. You wouldn’t be alive if you’d stopped to help a man who could have been dead before he went over the edge.”

Grace lifted her head and stared at the sheriff through watery eyes. “What do you mean?”

“We noticed footprints and drag marks in the dirt back there,” Deputy Pierce said.

The sheriff nodded. “I suspect the killer came back, dragged the body onto the ATV and rode it up to the hill. Then he pushed it over the edge with Mr. Khalig still on it.” He glanced over at the deputy. “We’ll get the state rescue team in to recover the body. The coroner will conduct an autopsy. He’ll know whether the bullet killed him or the fall.”

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Grace asked.

Sheriff Scott nodded. “I’d like you to come in and sign a statement detailing what you saw and at what time.”

“Anything you need. I’ll be there.” Grace shivered. “I wish I’d seen the killer’s face.”

“I do, too.” The sheriff stared down at the creek bed. “Murder cases are seldom solved so easily.” He glanced across at Grace. “You might want to watch your back. If he thinks you could pick him out in a lineup, he might come after you.”

Grace shivered again. “We live in a small town.” Her gaze captured the sheriff’s. “There’s a good chance I might know him.”

“If the law isn’t knocking on his door within twenty-four hours,” Caveman said, “he might figure out that you didn’t see enough of him to turn him in.”

“In which case, he’d be smart to keep a low profile and leave you alone,” the sheriff added.

“Or not.” Grace sighed. “I can’t stay holed up in my house. I have work to do. I still haven’t found my wolf.”

“It might not be safe for you to be roaming the woods right now,” the sheriff said. “By yourself, you present an easy target with no witnesses.”

Grace’s shoulders squared. “I won’t let fear run my life. I ran today, and Mr. Khalig is dead because I did.”

Caveman shook his head. “No, Mr. Khalig is dead because someone shot him. Not because you didn’t stop that someone from shooting him. You are not responsible for that man’s death. You didn’t pull the trigger.” The words were an echo from his psychologist’s arsenal of phrases she’d used to help him through survivor’s guilt. Using them now with Grace helped him see the truth of them.

He hadn’t detonated the bomb that had killed his teammates, nor had he pulled the trigger on the AK-47s that had taken out more of his battle buddies. He couldn’t have done anything differently other than die in his teammates’ place by being the forward element at that exact moment. He couldn’t have known. It didn’t make it easier. Only time would help him accept the truth.

* * *

“THERE IS SOMETHING you could do for me,” the sheriff said.

Grace perked up. “Anything.” After all that had happened, she refused to be a victim. She wanted to help.

“Go back down, get in my service vehicle and let dispatch know to call in the mountain rescue crew. Johnny and I will stay and make sure the wolves don’t clean up before they get here.”

“Will do,” Grace said. “Do you need me to come back?”

“No. We can handle it from here. You should head home. And please consider lying low for a while until we’re sure the killer isn’t still gunning for you.”

“Okay,” Grace said. Though she had work to do, she now knew she wasn’t keen on being the target of a gunman. She’d give it at least a day for the man to realize she hadn’t seen him and couldn’t identify his face. “You’ll let me know what they find out about the man down there?”

“You bet,” Sherriff Scott said. “Thank you, Grace, for letting us know as soon as possible.”

But not soon enough to help Mr. Khalig. She turned and started back down the hill. Her feet slipped in the gravel and she would have fallen, but Caveman was right beside her and helped her get steady on her feet. He hooked her elbow and assisted her the rest of the way down the steep incline.

At the bottom, he turned her to face him. “Are you okay?”

She nodded. “I’m fine, just a little shaken. It’s not every day I witness a murder.”

His lips twisted. “How many murders have you witnessed?”

“Counting today?” She snorted. “One.” With a nod toward the ATV, she said, “You can drive. I’m not sure I can hold it steady.” She held up a hand, demonstrating how much it trembled.

“Thanks. I would rather navigate the downhill trail. Coming up was bad enough.” He climbed onto the ATV and scooted forward, allowing room for her to mount behind him.

At this point, Grace didn’t care that he was a stranger. The man had found her unconscious, sought help for her and then gone with her to show the sheriff where a murder had taken place. If he’d been the shooter, he’d have killed her by now and avoided the sheriff altogether.

She slipped onto the seat and held on to the metal rack bolted to the back of the machine, thinking it would be enough to keep her seated.

“You need to hold on around my waist,” Caveman advised. “It’s a lot different being on the back than holding on to the handlebars.”

“I’ll be okay,” she assured him.

Caveman shrugged, started the engine and eased his thumb onto the throttle.

The ATV leapt forward, nearly leaving Grace behind.

She swallowed a yelp, wrapped her arms around his waist and didn’t argue anymore as they traversed the downhill trail to the bottom.

When she’d been the target of the shooter, she hadn’t had time to worry about falling off her sure-footed horse. Now that she wasn’t in control of the ATV and was completely reliant on Caveman, she felt every bump and worried the next would be the one that would throw her over the edge. She tightened her hold around his middle, slightly reassured by the solid muscles beneath his shirt.

For a moment, she closed her eyes and inhaled the scent of pure male—a mix of aftershave and raw, outdoor sensuality. It calmed her.

Although she’d always valued her independence, she could appreciate having someone to lean on in this new and dangerous world she lived in. Before, she’d only had to worry about bears and wolves killing her. Now she had to worry about a man diabolical enough to hunt another man down like an animal.