Hill, Gerri: Angel Fire

“A cop?” He looked at her skeptically. “You think pretending to be a cop is going to change the outcome? I hate cops.”

She swallowed nervously. “Dallas Police Department.”

He stared at her for a long moment. “My hostage is a cop? And I suppose you’re going to say your friend is too?”

“Her name is Leslie. Yes. She’s a cop too.”

“Great. And you two…are you like a couple or something?”

Sam shook her head. “Leslie is one of my best friends.” She took another bite of the stew, forcing herself to eat it. “We were there—vacation—with our partners though. Tori. Tori Hunter.” Just saying the name out loud brought her some comfort. “She’s my…my partner. She’s with the FBI,” she added.

His laugh surprised her. “My hostage is a cop and her lesbian lover is with the FBI. Wow,” he said dryly. He leaned closer. “And just where was this FBI agent when I showed up?”

“She and Casey went with one of the rangers. There was a…a shooting.” She paused. “I suppose that was you.”

“Yeah, I suppose it was.” He shook his head again. “A cop. Jesus,” he said almost to himself. He got up then, startling her. “Do I need to tie you up?”

She held her hands up, which were still bound. “What do you mean?”

“Do I need to worry about you running off into the woods? I’m not in the mood to chase you.”

She looked past their little campfire, seeing nothing but blackness. Where would she go? She turned back to him and shook her head.

“No, I don’t suppose you would run,” he said. “A mountain lion would get you and have you for dinner before I could find you.”

Sam stared at him blankly. Mountain lion? “I won’t run.”

He went to his backpack and untied what she assumed was a tent. He shook it out away from the fire, then quickly assembled it. She closed her eyes, silently begging for Tori to find her. She had no doubt that Tori was out right now, searching for her. Although she was a little discouraged that she’d heard no helicopters in the air earlier. Surely someone was searching for her. Of course, it was nearly dark when he’d taken her. Maybe they weren’t searching for her yet. Maybe they would wait until morning. What appetite she had vanished and she put the so-called stew down. She couldn’t swallow another bite.

“Finish it,” he said.

“It’s…it’s atrocious,” she said, causing him to laugh.

“Yeah, I know. But you get used to it.”

Sam looked up at him. “Ex-military?”

His smile vanished. “Eat it. Like I said, it’s not for pleasure, it’s for fuel.”

She picked up the stew again, wondering if she could force down any more of it. One more bite and she felt her stomach revolt. She put it down again. “I can’t.”

“Suit yourself,” he said.

He picked it up and, using her spoon, finished it off. He folded the empty container and put it into a small trash bag where he’d put his earlier. This he tied to a rope and swung it over a tree limb a short distance from their fire. She knew it was to prevent wild animals from finding it, which made her wonder what else was around besides mountain lions. Bears?

He came back over to the fire and kicked dirt on it, putting it out. Her world plunged into darkness then, and she squinted into the shadows. She looked overhead, but there was no moon.

“Come on.”

He grabbed her roughly and jerked her to her feet. She had a moment of panic as he was about to shove her inside the small tent.

“Wait,” she said. “I…I need to pee.”

He sighed. “Yes, I suppose you do.” He pointed at her. “Stay here.”

She did as she was told, waiting as he ducked into the tent. He came out with a roll of toilet paper. He wordlessly handed it to her, then pulled on the rope, leading her behind a tree.

“You’re going to… watch ?”

“You’re testing my patience,” he said.

It was dark. He wouldn’t be able to see anything, she reasoned. She let out a heavy breath. “Can you at least turn around?”

He was silent and didn’t move for the longest time. Then, finally, the rope loosened and he let go of the slack and moved around the tree.

“Thank you.”

“Hurry up.”

She didn’t know if she was more embarrassed or humiliated at that moment. She squatted down beside the tree, hoping he wasn’t listening. At that thought, she rolled her eyes. Him listening to her pee was the least of her worries.

“Bring the toilet paper with you.”

“What? Gross.”

“Pick it up.”

The tone of his voice told her not to argue. She waited while he lowered the trash bag and she put the toilet paper in after he’d opened it. He then repeated the process of hanging it back in the tree.

Without another word, he jerked her hands and pulled her toward the tent. Panic set in again as he shoved her inside. She was his hostage. He could do what he pleased. But she closed her eyes, vowing to fight him. She would not go through that again. She opened her eyes when she heard a quiet click and saw that he’d turned on a small flashlight. Their eyes met and he frowned slightly. She wondered what look she had on her face to cause that.

“I only have the one sleeping bag,” he said. “Use your coat for cover. It gets cold at night.”

He took the rope that was tied around her wrists and tied it to his arm. “I’m a light sleeper. Don’t do anything stupid. Having a hostage helps my cause, but only a little. I’ll kill you in a second if you try anything.”

“Why do you need a hostage?”

“Because they’re less likely to come after me with guns blazing, that’s why.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier for you to disappear if you were by yourself?”

He sighed. “Goodnight.”

She lay on her back, eyes wide open. How could she possibly sleep? She let out a quiet sigh of her own. How could this be happening to her? One minute, she and Leslie were discussing houses and the next, she was tied to a madman with a gun. And a knife, she reminded herself. She thought back over it all. Could she have done something? Should she have tried to get her weapon from the drawer? Should she have fought him? And on the heels of that, was Leslie okay? Was Tori okay? She could imagine how Tori was feeling. She pitied poor Casey, who had to put up with her. This brought a quick smile to her face. But it faded just as quickly.

She was in a tent in the middle of nowhere, tied to a man with a gun.

Chapter Six

Cameron stepped out of the truck, her gaze going first to the small motorhome, then to her right where crime scene tape was wrapped around a group of trees. The yellow tape nearly glowed from the truck’s headlights. She slid her heavy backpack to the ground.

“How did he get here?” she asked the sheriff’s deputy who had escorted them here. Murdock had said something about a car.

“The family’s car. We found it ditched down the road there, about two hundred yards.”

“Give me some kind of timeline, if you can,” she said.

“Sure.” He pulled out a small notepad from his shirt pocket, then walked into the light from his truck. “Call came in about the shooting at six twenty. The ranger came over here, took Agent Hunter and O’Connor—she’s with Dallas PD—with him to the scene. They got back here at seven ten.”

“That’s when they found the girl tied to the other police officer?” Andrea asked.

“Yes, ma’am. They called it in. Nothing was disturbed. There was evidence that Kennedy changed clothes and took a jacket.” He looked at his notes. “Hunter said she was wearing shorts when they left them. The shorts were in the bedroom and jeans and hiking boots were missing.”