walk at a steady reasonable pace, Quinn on the leash beside him.
“We’re not that far from the cabin, are we?” she asked quietly, searching the moonlit forest for landmarks.
“Less than two miles.”
“So it wouldn’t have been difficult for Boyd to get Portia there.”
“Not difficult, but not easy, either. Not if Portia was trying to slow him down. This forest can be hard to navigate during the day. At night, it’s more challenging.”
“I’m sure he had the route timed and took into consideration his kidnapping vi—Portia.”
“Victim. You can call her what she is. Let’s just make sure she stays a kidnapping victim and nothing more.”
Quinn pranced a few feet ahead, his tail and ears up, his nose to the ground.
“It looks like Quinn is on Sullivan’s trail,” she commented.
Justin nodded. “His or Portia’s.”
“What’s the plan for when we reach the cabin?”
“We keep Portia and ourselves alive and apprehend Sullivan.”
“I was hoping for a few more details.”
“We’ll assess things when we get there.”
She would prefer to assess things now.
She liked to know what she was going into and how she was going to get out of it. Not just in work. In life.
She’d enjoyed working with Justin these past few months because he was the same. Careful. Methodical.
“I think we’d be better off stopping for a couple of minutes and coming up with a solid plan about how we’re going to approach the cabin. Boyd Sullivan is—”
“I know what he is.” He stopped suddenly, and she realized that Quinn had stopped, too. The dog was just a few feet ahead, stiff and alert, staring through thick undergrowth.
“What does he see?” she whispered.
“The cabin.”
“Where?” She moved closer, stepping up beside Justin. He was taller than her by several inches. That had surprised her when she’d met him. She was used to being eye to eye with her male coworkers.
He pointed but didn’t speak, his arm brushing hers, the fabric of his uniform rasping quietly. The forest had gone silent except for the distant sounds of backup moving through the woods. She’d spent enough time outside at night to know what she should be hearing. Animals scurrying through the trees. Deer picking their way through the forest. The rustle and sigh of leaves as predatory birds searched for prey.
Moonlight filtered through the thick tree canopy, bathing the world in its green-gray glow. Tall evergreens and shorter, thicker oaks stood as silent sentinels, guarding a clearing that Gretchen could just see through the foliage.
The cabin was there. Four walls. A thatched roof. Empty holes where windows and doors had once been. She couldn’t see the details—just the right angles of the old exterior walls—but she’d explored the woods and seen the cabin. She’d also been on training exercises with K-9 puppies. She could picture the building—its size and shape and access points for the interior. It would be easy to get inside, but not as easy to do so undetected.
“This way,” Justin said, his words more breath than sound.
He led the way through the undergrowth, bypassing the thickest sections. Quinn moved silently in front of them, disappearing for a few seconds, then reappearing. He didn’t need to be commanded to remain quiet. He’d been trained well. He knew his job and seemed to have endless enthusiasm for it.
He stopped at the edge of an overgrown clearing, moonlight glinting in his tan fur, scruff raised, ears forward and down. He sensed danger, and he was letting Justin know it.
Gretchen tensed, eyeing the clearing and the old cabin that sat in the center of it. She could see it plainly now. That meant anyone inside could possibly see them.
Light danced across a window opening, disappearing as quickly as it appeared.
“He’s there,” Justin muttered as if it had ever been a question in either of their minds.
She grabbed his arm, pulling him back a few steps. “You aren’t planning to step out into that clearing, are you? Because if we can see the cabin, anyone in it can see us.”
“My daughter is in there,” he responded.
That didn’t answer the question.
It didn’t make her feel any better about the situation.
“I’m aware of that,” she replied, keeping a tight grip on his arm. “If he takes you out before you reach the cabin, what’s going to happen to Portia?”
“If he takes me out, it’ll ruin the game. Sullivan isn’t about that. He wants to see my face and know that he’s got me where he wants me—scared and helpless.”
“You’re not either of those things.”
“I’m not one of those things, but let him think what he wants. It’ll keep me alive until I can free Portia.”
“Until? What about after?” she whispered, but he pulled away, breaking her grip easily.
“Stay here and stay hidden. He’s got nothing to lose by taking you out.”
He stepped into the clearing with Quinn, and she almost followed.
But Justin was right.
Sullivan had no grudge against her, no game he wanted to play with her. He had no reason to want to watch her suffer. If she stepped out into the clearing, the first bullet he fired would be at her.
He’d save the next for Quinn. Then Portia.
Finally, after he took everything Justin cared about, he’d kill him.
She slipped back into the woods, skirting around the clearing, listening to the eerie silence and the wild beat of her heart. She wasn’t afraid for herself. She was terrified for Justin and for Portia. Boyd Sullivan had come to Canyon Air Force Base to seek vengeance for perceived wrongs, and Justin was probably at the top of the list of people he wanted to destroy. The fact that Portia was in danger seemed to be clouding Justin’s judgment, and clouded judgment could easily get a law enforcement officer killed. Especially in a situation like this.
She stepped out of the woods near the back of the cabin and moved silently across the clearing. She could hear Justin moving on the other side of the building, his footsteps crunching on dead leaves and twigs. He wasn’t trying to be quiet. He probably figured there was no reason. Boyd knew he was coming but had no idea Gretchen was there, too.
She’d use that to her advantage.
She crept close to the light-colored log walls of the cabin. There’d been two windows cut into
