Sawyer. Delores Fossen
Taking slow, cautious steps, Sawyer went to the remaining door. Took aim and made a quick check.
No one was there.
He glanced around, looking for any sign of the men, and he soon found it. Even though the rain was quickly washing it away, there was blood on the ground, and the underbrush had been stomped down in spots. It left a visible trail that led deeper into the woods.
His phone dinged, and since Cassidy was still holding it, she looked at the screen. “Grayson will be here in five minutes,” she relayed. “That’s too long. I want to find my brother now.”
Five minutes was indeed a long time for someone who might be bleeding out. “Text Grayson to get an ambulance out here.”
That sent her breath gusting again, but she did as he said. Sawyer did something, too. He ignored that warning knot in his gut. The one that told him it wasn’t a bright idea to go in the woods with Cassidy in tow, but it was too dangerous to leave her behind.
Too risky for Bennie not to be rescued.
So, the warning knot lost out, and Sawyer moved forward. Listening and praying this wasn’t a decision that would get them killed.
Cassidy put her forearms against his back, pushing him. Or rather she was trying to do that. But Sawyer held his pace steady, looking for any evidence that the rain would soon destroy. If they didn’t find Bennie soon, they’d need any and all clues to figure out where the kidnappers had taken him.
But why had they moved him?
Had they spotted Sawyer and decided to run? Or maybe Bennie had tried to escape. If he’d managed to get loose from those ropes, he could have run. And maybe he’d been hurt in the process.
Sawyer maneuvered them several yards deeper. Stopped and listened. This time, he heard something other than Cassidy’s breathing and the rain slapping at them.
It was just a swish of a sound. But not like anything else that he’d heard since this little trek had begun. Sawyer pulled Cassidy beneath the sagging branches of a mesquite and waited.
He didn’t have to wait long.
There was another of those swishing sounds, but this time he heard it a whole lot clearer. Oh, man. Someone had fired a gun rigged with a silencer. It was hard to tell the exact origin of the shots, but they hadn’t come from behind them.
Definitely ahead.
“Gunshots,” Sawyer whispered to Cassidy when she kept pushing him to get moving.
That stopped her. But it didn’t stop the fear from rising inside her. Sawyer could feel that in her tightened muscles and trembling hands.
“Send Grayson another text to give him our location,” he told her.
That would get her mind on something other than the panic that was no doubt about to eat her alive. Still, the texting served a necessary purpose, too. He didn’t want his cousin walking into gunfire.
There were no more swishing sounds, but Sawyer heard something else that grabbed his attention.
A moan.
Definitely human, and with the blood they’d found, it had likely come from someone injured. Bennie, maybe. At least that meant he was alive.
For now anyway.
Cassidy must have heard the sound, too, because she nudged him to get moving again. Sawyer did, maneuvering from beneath the mesquite and to some thick underbrush that would hopefully give them enough cover if those kidnappers started shooting at them.
There was a small clearing ahead, and because there were no trees, the rain was soaking the ground, making it hard to tell if anyone had gone that way. If the kidnappers had learned their way around these woods, and Sawyer had to assume that they had, they would know there were two ways out.
Doubling back to Miller’s Road.
Or continuing through the woods about a mile until they reached an old farm road.
Since he hadn’t seen another vehicle, it was possible the kidnappers had parked on that farm road. Of course, it was risky to be so far away from transportation in case something went wrong.
And something obviously had.
They likely hadn’t wanted to shoot at a hostage when they were so close to getting their hands on the entire chunk of ransom money.
“Bennie and the woman have to be alive,” Cassidy mumbled, and her breathing got even faster.
Mercy. She was on the verge of hyperventilating now, and Sawyer reached behind him and touched his fingers to her lips. Cassidy jerked back as if he’d burnt her. Their gazes met. Not one of those ordinary meets, either. This was one of blasted nonverbal connections between a man and a woman.
Who’d once been lovers.
Not a good time to remember that. Never a good time, actually. And he scowled to let her know that.
She scowled, too, her eyes narrowing a bit, and just like that, he’d cured her panic attack and hyperventilating.
“Let’s find him,” Cassidy snarled, and considering she’d just whispered it, she’d done a thorough job in conveying that snarl.
Her gaze fired around. “I have the picture,” Cassidy shouted without warning.
Sawyer reeled to her so fast that his neck popped. “What the heck are you doing?” he mouthed.
“Giving them what they want,” she mouthed back, her teeth clenched.
“If they’d wanted the photo bad enough, the kidnappers would have hung around.” And maybe they had. If so, Cassidy had just given away their position.
So, Sawyer moved again, trying hard not to let his anger turn what should be quiet footsteps into stomps. They’d only made it a few feet when he heard another moan. It was weak, barely audible, but it had come from a clump of cedars about fifteen yards away.
But that wasn’t the only sound.
There were footsteps that even the rain couldn’t conceal. Sawyer froze, holding back Cassidy again, but he didn’t have to hold her for long. There was a blur of motion, and Sawyer automatically took aim.
It was someone running.
Someone dressed all in dark clothes who quickly darted out of sight. In the video, Bennie had been wearing a light colored T-shirt similar to the one Cassidy had on.
The runner had to be one of the kidnappers.
There were more footsteps. Not from the same direction where the runner had disappeared to, but on the opposite side of the clearing. It wasn’t the running pace of an injured man who was hurt enough to moan. This was another runner.
And likely the second kidnapper.
Sawyer cursed himself for bringing Cassidy into this. Of course, if he’d left her to wait for Grayson, she would have no doubt been another set of those fast-moving footsteps trudging around in the rainy woods.
The seconds crawled by while he waited and tried to figure out what the heck was going on. He certainly couldn’t just start shooting with Bennie out there.
Behind him, he heard more footsteps. Not a runner this time, but the slow, cautious steps of a lawman. Sawyer glanced over his shoulder and spotted Grayson.
He motioned to the clearing so that Grayson would know what he was about to do.
“Stay here,” he warned Cassidy, and Grayson moved closer to her.
Good. If bullets started flying, Grayson would be able to pull her to the ground.
Sawyer tightened his grip on his gun and stepped out, making a beeline toward the cedars where he’d heard the moaning. No moans now, which might mean the kidnappers had moved their injured hostage.
When