Colton's Lethal Reunion. Tara Quinn Taylor
on foot. There was no other vehicle in the immediate vicinity, which would explain why they didn’t know he’d been approaching.
“How’d he know we were up here?”
“I’m guessing he heard the Jeep. Came to check us out.”
Which would be his job. Still… “He seemed kind of paranoid, though. What’s it to him if I look into a cold case?”
“I’m not sure.” Rafe didn’t say much, but one look at his face told Kerry that he wasn’t blowing off the incident. He was going to find out more.
Because he had the clout to do so.
And for the first time in a very, very long time, she was glad that she knew Rafe Colton.
He knew exactly who to call. Chafing to get down off the mountain and into the privacy of his truck, Rafe thought about the woman he’d known briefly, but intimately, almost a decade ago. Colton Oil had mistakenly been excavating on government land. As the newly appointed CFO and eager to prove himself, Rafe had quickly and personally presented a financial offer to the government’s attorney, Shelly Marston, to allow the company to continue drilling with more than fair remuneration to the government. He’d spared CO the cost of pulling out, applying for permission to drill and moving back in, and the government received more than usual compensation for the use of the land. And Shelly… She’d reminded him of Kerry. Same auburn hair. Same strength and sass. One night with her had told him that he couldn’t go back. And that it was grossly unfair to another woman to use her as a stand-in.
Which was just as well. The next morning, when Shelly told him at breakfast that she’d appreciate it if, as part of their deal, he’d keep their night together just between the two of them, he’d noticed the wedding ring that had not been on her hand the day before.
She’d said that she and her husband were separated, going through some growing pains with careers that took them to different parts of the country, but that her night with Rafe had shown her how much she loved her family.
They’d used each other. Which had formed an odd bond between them. A completely nonsexual, noncommunicative bond. They’d go years without talking. But when either of them needed some professional advice in the area of the other’s expertise, they picked up the phone trusting that it would be answered…
He saw a flash—a reflection off silver—a second before Kerry rounded the bend. Suddenly, they were forced cliffside, inches from going over.
His shoulder hit the door. He felt Kerry swerve again, felt the propulsion forward as his chest slammed into the seat belt, sensed a tightening within that braced for the unknown. And was aware of the thud as the Jeep came to a stop nose to nose with the mountain on the opposite side of the road. It took him a second to realize that flash of silver had been another vehicle.
By the time they’d stilled, his mind had caught up, was giving him instant replay in rapid staccato. And Kerry was saying, “Stay down,” and was out of the vehicle, gun drawn, crouching with her door as a shield on one side and the mountain at her back.
Keeping his head below the windshield, Rafe slid across the seat, digging his thigh with the gearshift, and slid out her open door to crouch beside her.
“That was deliberate,” she said. “He was waiting in this alcove for us to come around the corner.”
“The ranger?” He’d eventually caught up to the situation. Knew that she’d had the wherewithal to swerve on the wrong side of the oncoming vehicle that had been clearly gunning to run them off the narrow road into the valley below.
She shrugged. “Who else?” The tension in her voice stung him. Alerting him anew to the danger of their situation.
“Something about us up there, looking into Tyler’s death, sure had him paranoid,” he said aloud, looking behind him, up what he could see of the part of the winding road they’d just descended. “We need to go,” he said urgently, but softly, as though he could be overheard. “He’s going to be coming back down.”
She nodded. Did a three-sixty with her gun pointed out in front of her. And stopped.
“What’s that?” she said, pointing with her gun to a space in front of her opened car door. With the falling dusk, he didn’t immediately see what she was pointing at.
And then he did.
A boot. One that hadn’t been there long enough even to get dusty or look unused. To have white bird droppings or chewed holes.
A boot that matched those the ranger had been wearing.
“Why would he leave without his boot?” Kerry asked. “If he was sitting there in his vehicle waiting for us, he wouldn’t have been taking off his boots.”
He knew she was right. Didn’t want to worry about it at the moment. “Maybe he had an itch,” he said, inanely, and then, “Come on, Kerry, we need to get down off this mountain before he comes back.”
She nodded. “I know.” And pushed the door forward enough that she could scoot around it, scraping against the mountain as she went, and then toward the boot.
Rafe followed her. He wasn’t leaving her out there in the growing night alone.
“Look,” she said, pointing toward tamped down underbrush. “Someone dragged something heavy…”
“Like a carton of ammunition.”
She’d moved forward again, toward another drop-off on that side of the road. He’d grown up in those mountains, knew that they were filled with gullies and valleys, with steep slopes and dangerous, unforeseen drops. He knew how easy it would be for someone to fall and get hurt, if she missed just one step out there…
“Kerry, please,” he said, heart pounding as he followed her.
“Or like a body,” she said, her voice changed, shaking, and it took him a second to realize that she was responding to his comment about a carton of ammunition—or something else heavy having been dragged.
The land was mostly in shadows, but the setting sun still shone clearly in parts, highlighting the twisted body lying at an obviously lethal angle thirty feet below.
“Come on, we have to go,” she said, swinging her gun from side to side, watching as they hurried back to the Jeep.
“That was the ranger.” What the hell had they gotten themselves into? Not much point now in the phone call he’d been going to make—requesting a transfer for Grant Alvin. The ranger had just been sent much further away than he’d anticipated.
“I know it was. And I also know there’s someone else out here. We have to go. To get help.” She bit out the words with every step she took, pulling her phone off the clip at her hip. “There’s no reception,” she said, looking down, and in that instant, a shot fired out, dinged off the mountain less than a foot away from them.
Pushing Kerry into the Jeep in front of him, Rafe climbed in behind her, started the vehicle and sped off. Another shot rang out, but he made it round the bend before it could hit the car. He was driving too fast, prayed to God another vehicle wasn’t coming up around a bend, but knew that he couldn’t slow down. He had to get them the hell out of there before the gun behind them caught up.
What in the hell had just happened? Shaken mentally as well as physically, Kerry had a hand on the dash, turning in her seat to watch ahead of them as well as behind him, as Rafe sped the rest of the way down the mountain. Neither one of them spoke. All focus had to be on getting down to safety.
And when they’d reached the end of the drive, when Rafe had maneuvered them safely