Buch lesen: «Witness Pursuit»

For Lar, my real-life hero

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

Dear Reader

Extract

Copyright

ONE

Cassie McBride got out of Ruby, her little red car, and froze.

The front door to the Whispering Pines cabin was ajar. That wasn’t right. Was the renter still on the premises? How awkward. The woman was supposed to have checked out by noon and it was nearly eight o’clock in the evening.

Cassie pulled out her phone to call Becca, her best friend. Becca had helped Cassie get the job as a property manager for Echo Mountain Rentals, which rented out private cabins to vacationers in the Cascade Mountains. Perhaps Becca had dealt with this type of situation and could offer advice.

No, if Cassie wanted people to think of her as independent, she needed to act more and ask less. She decided not to bring in the fresh linens and toiletries until she’d resolved this issue. Who knows, she might even have to call security.

“Be strong,” she coached, but she abhorred conflict. If she were to keep this good-paying job, she’d have to do the uncomfortable tasks like kick out renters who’d overstayed their welcome. She straightened her shoulders, marched to the front door and eased it open. “Hello? It’s the property manager.”

Silence.

“Anyone here?”

Nothing.

She sighed with relief. Perhaps the door didn’t latch properly when the renter vacated the premises.

Her gaze drifted to the picture window and the incredible view of the Cascade Mountains. She would miss these mountains when she left on her travel adventures overseas where she’d discover new mountains and beautiful places in foreign lands.

But she wasn’t there yet.

To get the cabin ready for tomorrow’s renters, she pulled her phone out of her purple bag and opened the checklist. She glanced toward the back of the house and noticed the patio door wasn’t locked.

“Not a very responsible renter,” she said to herself. She’d let Mr. Anderson know not to rent to that woman again. She crossed the room and locked the door.

Turning her attention to the kitchen, Cassie got busy with her assignment. Her report needed to be filed tonight, and if anything was damaged they’d send maintenance to fix the problem before the next renter checked in.

To help her focus, she plugged earbuds into her phone and hit Play. This was the perfect job for Cassie, and she couldn’t thank Becca enough for recommending her to her boss. The money earned during the high season would pad Cassie’s bank account so she could escape Echo Mountain sooner rather than later.

Starting in the kitchen, Cassie turned the appliances on and off—the toaster, blender and microwave. She checked the garbage disposal and oven. All seemed in working order.

During a break between songs, she thought she heard something. It sounded like scratching. Another song started, and Cassie hit Pause. Pulled out the earbuds.

Scratch, scratch, whine.

She followed the source of the sound into the master bedroom.

Whine, whine, scratch.

It was coming from the closet. Thinking a critter might have sneaked in through the open door, she grabbed a pillow off the bed, ready to shoo it out of the house.

She took a deep breath, counted to three and slid the door open.

A flash of fur dashed out of the closet.

Cassie gasp-shrieked, startled by the sudden movement of a little dog sprinting across the room. She caught her breath, her gaze trained on the terrier mix scurrying into the master bathroom.

“Where did you come from, Dasher?” The name seemed appropriate, although not so much his presence. Whispering Pines was a no-pet property. Cassie followed him, stepped into the bathroom doorway and froze.

A limp female body lay sprawled across the edge of the Jacuzzi tub.

“Oh no, ma’am?”

Cassie rushed to the fully clothed unconscious woman. As she knelt beside her, Cassie noticed blood trailing down the side of the woman’s face. Had she hit her head? Cassie felt for a pulse, but couldn’t find one. The dog barked frantically as if trying to revive its master.

“Gotta get help.” Cassie ran into the kitchen, the dog practically underfoot. She could barely think over the constant barking, so she picked up the dog to soothe him. “It’s okay, buddy,” she said, stroking his head.

She grabbed her smartphone off the counter, and with trembling fingers she called 911.

“911 Emergency,” the operator answered.

“My name is Cassie McBride. There’s a woman, she’s injured, maybe dead I’m not sure, in Whispering Pines cabin on Reflection Pass Drive.”

“What’s the address, ma’am?”

“I... I... Hang on a second.” Cassie fiddled with the phone, opening a map program. Becca had given her landmarks, not an actual address, when she’d asked Cassie to cover for her tonight.

The map program was taking too long to load. A woman could be dying in the next room.

She held the phone to her ear once again. “Just take the first right after Craig’s Gas and Grub on Highway Two, then a left at the blue bear mailbox and you’ll see the cabin up ahead.”

“Ma’am, we need an address.”

“I don’t have it. I’ll have to call my manager and call you back.”

“Ma’am, I need you to stay on the line. Give me your manager’s phone number.”

Cassie rattled it off.

“We’ll get in touch with him,” the dispatcher said. “Please tell me what happened.”

“I’m a property manager and was checking one of our rentals and I heard scratching. It was a dog and he ran out of the closet and into the bathroom and when I followed him, I... I found an unconscious woman. You need to send someone, quick!”

Cassie hoped she was making sense, but adrenaline flooded her brain and jumbled her thoughts. She took a few steps into the main living area, hoping the peaceful view would ground her somehow. She glanced out the window...

And spotted a man heading toward the cabin carrying a shovel over his shoulder.

She dropped to the floor, clutching the little dog.

“Someone’s here,” she whispered into the phone.

“Who’s there?”

“A man, he’s coming toward the house with a shovel. What is he doing with a shovel? Oh my God, he dug a grave, he dug a grave and he’s going to bury her.”

“Ma’am, please stay calm.”

“I need to get out of here. I’ll leave the line open, but I can’t talk. And don’t talk to me because he might hear you.” She pocketed the phone and crouch-walked across the living room, carrying the dog under her arm like a pro quarterback clutching a football.

She swallowed her panic, her fear. Maybe he wasn’t a killer preparing to dispose of a body. Maybe he was with maintenance doing a little grounds work. No, he wasn’t in a dark green uniform. He wore jeans, a black T-shirt and a leather jacket.

Cassie needed out of here. She needed to get safe. Glancing at the kitchen counter, she eyed her keys lying beside her bag. Just as she started toward them she heard the rattling at the back door. He was there, trying to get in. She’d locked him out, which meant he knew someone was inside.

She was inside.

And if she reached for her keys now, he’d see her for sure.

Dread gripped her chest. She was next.

She counted to three. Calmed her breathing.

She hadn’t survived a childhood fraught with illness to become a victim of random violence. She had things to do and places to explore, places on the other side of the world that she’d promised herself she’d visit once her health stabilized.

She stroked the dog’s soft fur, which both helped keep him quiet and calmed her fear.

The door rattled. More violently this time.

Maybe the police would get here before he broke in. Maybe—

A crash was followed by a click and footsteps.

Cowering in the entryway, she heard floorboards squeak as he crossed the room. The sound of keys scraping against the kitchen counter sent a shudder of fear down her spine.

He’d found her keys. He knew she was still here.

She had seconds until...

The pounding of footsteps sprinted toward the bedroom. Of course, where he thought he’d find Cassie, the intruder, potential witness to murder.

This was her chance.

She slid open the side window and climbed through, still clinging to the dog. Only then did she realize taking care of Dasher was keeping her somewhat sane.

Once outside, she sprinted in the opposite direction of the master bedroom, assuming the guy might come looking for her.

If only she could escape in her car, but that was impossible without her keys. She focused on her breathing, taking slow, calming breaths.

The dog released a quick bark. “No, Dasher, no bark.”

She spotted a trail up ahead leading to the next property, about half a mile away.

Half a mile. She could do it. She wouldn’t be the victim of circumstance, a victim of “wrong place, wrong time.” There were so many things she had yet to accomplish, things she ached to experience.

Like love.

As she ran steadily, the dog flopping in her arms, she scolded herself for losing focus and thinking about such trivialities. Yet with danger barreling down on her, she was haunted by her biggest fear: she would never experience romantic love.

Because her childhood illness had left her so damaged that no one would want her.

Knock it off, she mentally scolded herself. This kind of thinking would not keep her alive.

She made it to the trail and clenched her jaw with determination, thinking what a great story she’d be able to tell her friends when this was over. When she was safe.

Towering trees reached for the sky on either side of her; the trail was well worn and easy to navigate. Which meant if she could navigate it, so could Shovel Man. She glanced over her shoulder. Didn’t see anything.

She turned back to the trail. Increased her speed.

A few minutes later he called out to her. “Hey! Stop!”

He knew she was there, running for her life. She skidded as she took a sharp turn, but caught herself and managed not to slide over the edge into the abyss below.

She peeked to her right, down into the steep drop, and it gave her an idea. If she could find a way down at the next turn, her pursuer might think she’d continued on the trail. Yes, that’s it.

Somehow she needed to disappear, and quickly. She uncoiled her scarf from around her neck and wrapped the dog in it, then secured him against her chest. Thank God he was a little guy, probably seven pounds soaking wet. This was not something she could do with a golden retriever like Fiona, her sister’s dog.

“Let’s go, Dasher.” Cassie peered over the edge. She needed to stay out of sight only until police arrived. “Emergency, this is Cassie McBride,” she said, speaking into the phone, still in her shirt pocket. “I’m climbing down the mountain to a safe spot, out of view.”

“Is the perpetrator following you?”

“Yes, I think so. I’m about a quarter of a mile south of the cabin. Send help.” She eyed the perfect spot to grab a tree root and lower herself.

“Deep breathing, doggie,” she coached, as if the dog understood her. She grabbed the tree root jutting out from the mountainside, and lowered herself until she found a firm rock on which to plant her feet. The next step would be landing on a small ledge, about ten feet below.

“Just like REI,” she said, referring to a rock-climbing class she’d taken months ago.

She took a slow, deep breath. She could do this.

With a grunt, she edged her right foot onto a thick tree branch sticking out from the mountain wall. She reached for another branch to hold on to.

The branch beneath her foot snapped.

And she dropped.

* * *

Police Chief Nate Walsh had a firm grip of one end of the stretcher, and Eddie Monroe had the other. As a search-and-rescue volunteer, a sense of satisfaction gave Nate the added strength necessary to make the final trek down the mountain carrying the injured woman.

It was a good thing they got to her when they did, since it would be dark soon. Darkness would have made the mission more challenging, even though her injuries weren’t life-threatening.

Although some folks in town had expected him to give up his SAR work when he was named police chief last year, helping people, saving them from the dangers of the wild, gave Nate a sense of control over the random chaos of life.

Random, like his partner’s death nearly four years ago on the Chicago PD. Perhaps if Nate had known where Dean’s head was at he’d still be alive, along with the witness Dean had been protecting.

The witness Dean had fallen in love with.

If Nate had only known, he would have convinced his partner to not let something like love cloud his judgment and ruin his career. Which was probably why his partner decided not to share.

Sometimes people considered Nate’s firm opinions as judgmental, yet he was about protecting family and friends. Besides, Nate wouldn’t be arrogant enough to pass judgment, since he was far from perfect.

These days he’d strive to be as close to perfect as possible for the citizens of Echo Mountain. Volunteering for SAR kept him connected with his community, even if some of these folks wondered how he had the time given his chief duties.

He and Eddie carried the wounded hiker, a twentysomething female named Sylvia, to the command center where an emergency vehicle waited.

“Thanks, thanks, everyone,” Sylvia said. “Thanks, Chief.”

“You’re welcome. Take care of yourself.”

“Chief,” SAR volunteer Luke Winters said. “Dispatch needs you to call in.”

“Thanks.” He shook hands with a few of the volunteers and went to his truck. When he’d taken over as chief, he’d directed dispatch to give him immediate updates on criminal activity calls, however minor. Kids in a small town had a tendency to grow bored and get into mischief.

He fired up his truck and pulled away from the command center, grateful for the successful mission. Another life saved.

“Dispatch, this is Chief Walsh, over.”

“Sir, there’s been a 911 call reporting a wounded, possibly dead body, and the female witness says the killer is still on the premises, over.”

Adrenaline rushed through his bloodstream. “Address?”

“We’re looking it up, over.”

“The witness couldn’t tell you?” What kind of fruitcake didn’t know where she was?

“She had directions, but no address. She works for Echo Mountain Rentals, over.”

Nate’s blood ran cold. Cassie worked for Echo Mountain Rentals. Cassie, his best friend’s sister with the sparkling blue eyes and a contagious smile.

“Did the caller give you her name?”

“Cassie McBride.”

Nate gripped the radio so hard he thought it might crack in his hand.

“I need that address, over,” he said.

“One minute, over.”

He didn’t have a minute. A sweet, lighthearted young woman who looked at the world through a veil of optimism was in trouble. Cassie trusted too easily and believed in the goodness of all and the glory of God.

She hadn’t been tainted by life’s tragedies, and wouldn’t be able to cope with a crisis, much less a violent perp.

“The address?” Nate snapped, pulling onto Highway Two.

“5427 Reflection Pass Drive. We still have an open line to her phone, over.”

“Patch it through, over,” he said.

“Yes, sir, over.”

“Alert all available officers. Did you dispatch an ambulance, over?”

“Yes, sir, over.”

Nate gripped the steering wheel with his left hand and held on to the radio with his right. Coordinates indicated he was about five minutes out.

Hang on, Cassie. I’m coming.

What was she doing up there at this time of night? She should be relaxing in her apartment above the tea shop with a good book, not working. Then he remembered why she’d taken a second, part-time job with the rental company: to earn money for travel.

The thought of her traveling alone didn’t sit well with Nate or her big brother, Aiden. If she could stumble into trouble in her own hometown, Nate shuddered to think what could happen to her in a foreign country.

But she wasn’t gone, not yet. She was in danger right here in Echo Mountain. Nate pressed down on the accelerator and flipped the lights. It might get folks talking, but he didn’t care.

All he cared about was getting to Cassie. Making sure she was okay.

His phone rang, and he recognized Aiden’s number.

“Chief Walsh,” he answered.

“Sorry to bother you, but my little sister was supposed to stop by Mom’s and she’s late and hasn’t called.”

“I’m heading up to Reflection Pass now.”

“Reflection Pass? Why?”

“Cassie called 911,” Nate said.

“What’s wrong? Is she okay?”

“I’ll let you know as soon as I get to her. Just hang tight.”

“Where is she? I’m coming.”

Just then, sounds from Cassie’s phone echoed over the radio.

“I’ve gotta go.” Nate ended the call. He held his breath as he listened.

“Deep breathing, doggie,” Cassie’s gentle voice whispered through the radio.

Nate’s fingers wrapped tighter around the steering wheel.

“Just like REI,” she said.

He realized she was climbing down the mountain to get away from danger.

“Cassie, no,” he ground out. She didn’t have proper gear and wasn’t a seasoned climber.

A few seconds later, a soft shriek echoed through his car. His heart pounded against his chest. What happened? Did she fall?

“Where did you go?” a male voice called.

The perp was there? Stalking her? Nate slammed his palm against the steering wheel.

“Cassie McBride?” the man called.

How did he know her name? Nate grabbed the radio. “Dispatch, how close are the patrol cars to Reflection Pass Drive, over?”

“About a minute out, over.”

“Tell them to hit the sirens.”

“Copy that.”

A woman’s moan floated across the inside of his truck. He glanced at the radio, then back at the road. Two minutes; he had to be only two minutes out.

“Is that you down there?” a man said.

Nate flipped on his siren and floored it.

The next few minutes were a blur. It took all of Nate’s self-control to keep the panic from turning him into a raving lunatic. He reined in his temper. Locals had been worried about giving the chief’s position to a thirtysomething like Nate, from a big city. Folks didn’t think he had the patience for being chief of a small town.

He was determined to prove them wrong. Echo Mountain had become his home. He’d moved here three years ago to support his sister and her teenage son. He’d been absent from their lives far too long, playing protector for the rest of the world. He’d been pretty good at it, until he’d failed Dean.

He would not fail Cassie.

As he pulled onto Reflection Pass Drive, two patrol cars turned the corner up ahead. Nate sped toward the house, parking behind Cassie’s little red car. He whipped his door open and motioned to officers James “Red” Carrington and Ryan McBride. “Red, search the house. McBride, you’re with me.”

Nate hoped that seeing her cousin Ryan McBride might comfort Cassie. Red drew his weapon and entered the house.

Nate grabbed rope from his trunk, then called dispatch. “I need the last known location for Cassie McBride, over.”

“Quarter of a mile south of the cabin, over.”

The ambulance peeled up the driveway and the paramedics hopped out; one was Cassie’s cousin, and Ryan’s sister, Maddie McBride.

“Wait until Officer Carrington gives the all clear.” Nate took off toward the trail, Officer McBride right behind him.

Nate withdrew his firearm. The guy still had to be here, right? Jogging up the trail, Nate steadied his breath, occasionally glancing over the edge. She could be anywhere down there.

The trail forked, and Nate pointed for Officer McBride to go left. Nate continued another few minutes.

The sound of a barking dog echoed from below. Nate knelt to look over the edge.

“Cassie! Cassie, you down there?”

The barking intensified, but there was no response from Cassie.

Had the guy climbed down there and...

Nate would not allow himself to go there. He holstered his gun and secured the rope around a tree trunk nearby. He had to get down there and make sure she was okay.

Because if she wasn’t...

Something slammed against Nate’s back and he lurched forward, over the edge.