The Hunt

CHAPTER 32

Quinn searched the Parker residence with Deputy Jorgensen while two other cops searched the grounds.

“Clear,” Quinn called.

Richard Parker looked ghostly, his face drawn, when Quinn stepped back out on the porch. “He could have killed Ryan. He could have killed Delilah.”

“Ryan’s safe,” Quinn reminded him. “I sent a deputy over to the Moore place to watch over him. Every available cop is looking for Delilah and David.”

“She didn’t know. She couldn’t have known.”

Parker had been repeating this mantra in the car until Quinn was ready to slug him.

“Agent Peterson!”

One of Nick’s deputies came running up. “We were checking out the south meadow like you said and heard faint gunshots down in the gulch.”

“Where?”

“It was hard to tell with the echo, but it was from the bottom most certainly. It’s obvious that several people have walked down the slope; there’s recently disturbed dirt and plants.” The deputy wiped a hand over his face. The drizzle had been steadily increasing, but it wasn’t fully raining yet.

A series of four-wheel-drive trucks came down the driveway. Quinn recognized the driver of the first truck, Charlie. Quinn didn’t wait for him to get out, but met him next to the gravel area by the barn.

“I just talked to Lance Booker,” Charlie said. “They found the girl. And get this: Nick’s with her.”

Quinn slammed his fist on the hood of Charlie’s truck. What was Miranda thinking going down into that canyon alone? He didn’t care that she had a deputy with her; she wasn’t a cop, she wasn’t a federal agent. Why?

It hit him: She thought she could save Ashley. He would have done the same.

“Let’s head down to the meadow. I’ll catch a ride with you-we’ll need the four-wheel-drive if this rain gets any heavier.”

“It will,” Charlie said grimly.

The drive was short and bumpy. As soon as the truck stopped, Charlie’s radio buzzed. “GCSR, GCSR, anyone there?” GCSR was the acronym for Gallatin County Search and Rescue. Miranda’s unit.

Charlie answered. “Roger, Charlie Daniels here.”

“Charlie, it’s Lance Booker. I’m calling to give you coordinates. Can you take them?”

Charlie pulled a pencil and pad from the visor. “Give them to me.”

Booker gave the coordinates. When he was done, Quinn took the radio. “Booker, it’s Agent Peterson. Put Miranda on.”

“I can’t, sir.”

“Why the hell not?”

“There was no place here to conceal all four of us and she took Ashley farther down the gulch.”

“Explain.”

Quinn closed his eyes when he got off the radio with Lance Booker. Damn, damn! Miranda had no other choice-she hadn’t had many options. But to have her running with an injured, scared woman…

“Let’s get going. Booker says it’ll take forty-five minutes to get down to the gulch.”

“I’ll cut that time in half. Ever rappel down a mountain?”

Davy stared at the open door. Red rage exploded in his chest, filling every blood vessel with potent hatred.

That bitch stole his girl.

Where did they go?

She was a smart bitch; she wouldn’t go up the gulch. It only grew steeper, narrower. A trap. She hadn’t fallen for his traps before. Down Boulder Gulch would land them out near Big Sky. Hard going over the rocks, and they’d have to cross several creeks. With the rain last week they were running high. Waist deep at least. It would slow them down.

She wouldn’t be able to take his girl up the mountainside. Too steep. He’d picked this location because of the trap to the west. He wanted to corner the girl. See the hot fear in her eyes when she realized there was no way out. Would she run toward him? Or cower against a mountain she’d never be able to climb?

Instead, the bitch must have taken her down the boulders, taking the sport out of it. What was the fun of shooting them in open space? He’d done that before.

He wanted something new.

The bitch would pay for what she’d done. He should have killed Miranda Moore twelve years ago.

He would have her begging for mercy before he cut out her heart.

Miranda winced at the buzz of her radio. She had it turned low, but it still made noise.

“Moore here,” she said, mindful of the echo. The rain was coming down steadily, helping to mask the noise, but if the Butcher was on her tail she had to take every precaution. They were keeping close to the north slope so they weren’t completely out in the open, but the rain made the ground slick. She had on hiking boots yet still fell once; she’d had to pick Ashley up more times than she could count.

They were not moving fast enough for her liking.

“It’s Booker. The Butcher came and left, ninety seconds ago at a quick pace. He was not happy.”

Booker’s voice came through fuzzy.

“Roger.”

“I tried for a clean shot, but I couldn’t get one.”

“Better to stay hidden. If you missed the first shot, he would have known where you were. How’s Nick doing?”

“He’s going in and out of consciousness. I was talking to him, keeping him awake, until I spotted Larsen and had to keep quiet. He faded then.”

Damn. Nick needed medical attention soon.

“I talked to Peterson,” Booker continued. “They’re on their way down.”

Good. At least she had reinforcements.

“I’m turning off my radio,” she said. “I don’t want any noise. Out.”

She glanced at Ashley. The girl didn’t know the meaning of the word quiet. Every time she slipped she let out a yelp, then started crying again about how she was going to die.

Miranda couldn’t blame her. Ashley was scared to death. She knew what had happened to all the other victims of the Butcher. She’d had a lot of evil things happen to her during the last two days.

But Miranda needed to explain the facts of life-and death-to Ashley van Auden.

She turned off her radio and pocketed it. Ashley stepped on a sharp rock and fell to her knees. “Ow!” She sobbed into the dirt.

Miranda picked Ashley up off the ground, her muscles straining. Though Ashley was several inches shorter and ten pounds lighter than Miranda, she was drenched. Miranda felt sluggish with the weight of the water and backpack.

The rain had cleansed Ashley’s body, washing away the blood and body odor, leaving her smelling like the wet wool sweater and fear-the fear rolling off her was palpable.

Or was that Miranda’s own terror?

She carried the girl to a thick ponderosa and propped her against the base.

“Listen to me, Ashley,” she said in her sternest voice.

“He’s going to kill us,” Ashley interrupted. “You know it. You know he’s coming after us. I heard. I heard on your radio. That cop said. He’s coming to kill us. We’re going to d-d-die-”

Miranda grabbed Ashley’s arms and gave her a firm shake. “Shut. Up.” She didn’t want to lose her temper, but her heart was racing. They didn’t have time. Larsen would be eating up the ground three, four times faster than they were. Even with their twenty-minute lead-shit, they might have ten minutes. If they kept moving.

If they ran.

No. No more running. It would end here and now.

Rain pounding down, she observed her surroundings. She could use the terrain to her advantage.

They were in a wide part of the canyon. The boulders seemed to pile in the center, with a shallow creek running both north and south of the rocks. Though the south slope was steeper, there were more fallen trees here. Better places to hide.

“Ashley!”

“Why are you being so mean to me? You don’t understand.” Her swollen lips pouted and tears rolled from her eyes. “You don’t know anything. Let me go!”

Miranda didn’t release her hold. “Do you know who I am?”

“Mir-anda.” Ashley’s voice trembled.

“I am Miranda Moore. I escaped this bastard once. I’m not going to let him kill me-or you-now.”

Miranda was surprised her voice sounded so strong. Inside, she was a mess. She had no idea what would happen when she saw Larsen. She didn’t know if she would freeze or panic or scream in rage.

But she did know there was no way they could outrun him. And this time, she had a weapon, she had physical strength, and more important, she had the element of surprise.

She would not be a victim again.

Ashley blinked, oblivious to the rain running in rivulets down her face. She was shivering, but didn’t seem to notice.

Her voice was small, like a child’s. “Promise?”

“So help me God, he will have to kill me before I let him touch you. But you have to do exactly what I say. Exactly.”

Ashley slowly nodded. “Okay.”

Ten minutes. She had ten minutes to see if her plan would work.

Or Quinn would find her dead.