based on what I can gather of their personalities—it all helps. I’ve never tried to avoid being tracked, but I assume it’s the same concept in reverse.”
He nodded in understanding, shifted on his feet as he thought. “Thieves and smugglers. We thought they were the heads of the organization but now it seems they’re just extremely talented but lower ranking. No known activities besides their illegal ones. No legitimate jobs.”
“Not from Moose Haven, right?”
“One of them has a cabin here, but no.”
“They’re from Anchorage then?”
“Wasilla. But their crimes have mostly been committed in Anchorage, with a few in other locations. Fairbanks. Juneau.”
“Sounds pretty far-reaching.” She nodded, running through criminal profiles again in her mind, trying to get a handle on what they’d be like. “All right, ready?”
“If you are.”
She paused. “Can I see about your arm first?”
He shook his head. “Later. I want more space between us and whoever is shooting.”
Kate started running again, hoping the people pursuing them would lose the trail in the darkness. She was almost tempted to pray; she was so desperate to not be caught. The idea of how close she’d already been to several bullets—she didn’t want to think about it. People knew she was tough; she’d certainly heard her siblings brag about that many times and while it always made her smile, it wasn’t entirely true. She was tough in one context—the woods and the mountains and the backcountry. The backcountry could kill you, but it was logical, usually played by the rules. Even wildlife behavior could be predicted to a degree and Kate had had several run-ins with moose and bears that had ended well for everyone because she’d understood the rules too and played by them.
These men who were after them now?
They didn’t play by the rules.
And that was exactly why she was terrified.
* * *
Following Kate, Micah ran through the darkness, through the trees that were thick on this lower half of the mountain. He supposed he should be thankful they weren’t above the tree line, where there would be no way to avoid detection and nowhere to take shelter.
The way he figured it, they’d have to stop for at least an hour or so later. Neither had to sleep if they didn’t feel like it, but they’d need to eat and rest a little before continuing on. And he needed to pack something around his arm, since over the time he ran it leaked a little more blood. It wasn’t enough to cause problems, at least he didn’t think so, but when they could stop, he’d take better care of it. The pain was a wave of intensity as he ran, but with enough focus he could ignore it, power through it. It was when they stopped that the constant throbbing made him grit his teeth.
His mind turned to his partner again and he felt anger seethe in his middle. The arrest should have gone smoothly. They had done their due diligence to assure that it would and it had still gone wrong and they’d missed something, gotten a huge part of the case wrong.
Who had the third man been? The other man with the Delaneys? He wore a mask over his face, so all Micah knew was that he was a male of average build—not much to go on especially in a state where men outnumbered women.
He felt his frustration grow, this time with himself. Even with his partner, Stephen too, though that made him feel worse—once people were dead weren’t you supposed to think only good things about them? Either way, neither of them realized there was a high-ranking third person involved in this operation; while Micah knew if he was honest that it hadn’t been his fault or Stephen’s that they’d missed it, the criminals had just hidden it well, it still burned that they’d made a mistake, been outnumbered.
Lost one of the good guys.
Micah shook the ache, the events of the last few hours out of his mind. The loss of his partner stung, cut deep. But this wasn’t the time for grieving. He owed it to Stephen to finish what they’d started. Right now that meant focusing on following the woman in front of him. He’d never have thought he’d run into Kate Dawson up here, and wished in a way it was anybody else. Besides Noah, his best friend growing up, Kate had been his favorite of the Dawson siblings. He’d admired her daring, her ability to keep up even though she was two years younger than he was and even more years behind her oldest brother. She wasn’t like other girls he’d known then and she wasn’t like any women he’d met since.
He hated that she was in danger now.
Although if he was honest, she was one of the best-equipped people to handle it. The Kate he’d known years ago didn’t back down, didn’t give up. She seemed even tougher now.
And now that he was down one partner and running for his life, Kate was exactly the kind of person he needed on his team. Already she’d saved him from finding his way down the mountain in the dark, and her determined attitude was infectious too. He could use some more of it right now.
“I’ve got to stop soon.”
Kate slowed her pace, came back to where he was, looked around as though Micah himself hadn’t been keeping himself highly aware of their surroundings and looked at his arm. “Pain getting worse?”
“No but the bleeding keeps starting up again.”
She wrinkled her nose.
“You don’t do blood?”
“It’s not my favorite, but I can handle it.” She looked to the right, then behind them. “We are about half a mile from where I’d wanted to stop. Can you make it that far?”
“Yes.” Especially when he was looking at a pair of dark hazel green eyes practically daring him, challenging him.
He hadn’t been fair to her earlier, when he’d thought about her as a kid. She’d always done more than keep up, just like now. She was the one who set the pace.
The half mile to Kate’s planned stopping place was slower going than the trail had been earlier, and more than once a spruce branch that Kate had pushed back without holding it slapped Micah.
“I’m sorry. I’m usually alone—I’m not used to thinking about someone behind me.”
“You just go. I’m fine. I can handle it.”
So she’d listened. The trees were thicker here, and he suspected Kate wanted to make sure their trail was as difficult to find and follow as possible since they’d soon be stopping to rest.
Micah was already making plans for that—one of them would be awake at all times. Unless the situation changed for the worst, he might even take a quick nap. He’d seen the way Kate handled that .44. She could more than handle protecting them for a short time; that was how confident she’d seemed with her weapon. And it was a good thing because he needed a nap, at least half an hour. He’d lost count now of how many hours he’d been awake but it had to be edging toward or past the twenty-four-hour mark.
Just as he was starting to question how well Kate measured distance, the woods cleared. Something ahead of them made a hill in the snow, but he couldn’t quite tell what. He looked around the
