small handbag.
“Ms. Watson?” Logan gestured at the purse. “Did you find some identification?”
She frowned, rubbing her forehead with a knuckle as she stared at the closed purse.
“Everything okay?”
“Sure.” Her expression cleared but the air of confusion still lingered—must be from the head injury. She fumbled with the purse’s zipper and dug out a wallet, staring at the driver’s license inside for a long moment before handing it to him. Her forehead creased again.
Logan took the license from her clammy fingers. Ashley Watson. Issued in the District of Columbia. His brows pulled together. “No idea what brings you to Texas, Ms. Watson? You’re a long way from home.”
She leaned against the car. Her face was pale but she held his gaze. “No, but it’ll come back to me. Otherwise, I know where to go home. Now, if you want to point me in the right direction to a medical facility, I can drive myself. I’m sure you have other places to be.”
Was she trying to get rid of him? Did she remember more than she was letting on?
“Really?” He raised an eyebrow. “You think I’d let you drive in your condition?”
“I’m feeling better. Besides—” she nodded toward his Jeep “—you probably have a cold pack in there for my head, right?”
“For starters, the road to the nearest medical facility is that way.” He pointed across the parking lot toward a nearly invisible dirt road leading into the desert to the north. “And second, you’ll be coming with me to park headquarters in Panther Junction after we go to the clinic.”
“Why?” Somehow she managed to look both helplessly lost and irritated at the same time.
“Because it’s illegal to carry a firearm in this park without a permit unless you’re in law enforcement.”
“So, what? You’re going to arrest me after I almost drowned?” Sparks flared in her brown eyes.
“No.” Logan sucked in a slow breath, searching for the tattered shreds of his patience. “I’m going to bring you in for questioning. Unless you’ve got a Texas-approved license to carry somewhere in there, too.”
She inhaled sharply, eyes widening. Nervous? But why? “I’m sure there’s a good reason for the gun.” She dug inside her blazer pocket, her brow furrowing when her fingers came away empty. “I have a holster.”
“Maybe. But we’ll let the chief ranger decide.”
She closed and locked her car door and then took the arm he offered, cold fingers clutching his elbow, and he escorted her to the Jeep.
He helped her into the passenger seat and handed her a thick gauze pad from a first-aid kit. “Press this to the wound, and here’s an ice pack for the swelling.”
Ashley took the gauze, wincing as she touched it to the injury. A wave of pity washed through him. The ride to Terlingua over that washboard dirt road was going to hurt.
She sat silently in the passenger seat, a hand pressed to her eyes, as he did his best to steer around the lumpiest sections of the road.
They’d been driving for maybe thirty minutes when headlights appeared in the rearview mirror, two tiny orbs bouncing in the distance.
Ashley craned her head over her shoulder. “Somebody else uses this road?”
“Yeah...once in a while.” He frowned. The lights were growing bigger much faster than they should be. Usually only Terlingua locals and lost tourists used this road, and neither was foolish enough to go that fast.
Only a few minutes passed before the other vehicle was nearly on their tail, its headlights glaring off the dashboard and mirrors so brightly he had to squint. A truck, judging by the height of the lights.
Better to let them pass than get into an accident out here. He slowed the Jeep, driving closer to the side to allow the truck space to pass. “Impatient driver. Going to break an axle at this rate.”
Impatient and reckless—couldn’t they see this was an NPS vehicle? He’d be sure to get the plate number and call it in.
But the truck didn’t pass. Instead it veered to the right with them and accelerated.
“What...?” Logan muttered. “Hold on!”
The driver was going to ram them.
Ashley scrabbled to find the handle inside the door as Logan jerked the steering wheel to the left. The Jeep swerved, its tires slipping on the loose dirt. Behind them, the truck eased off the gas long enough to follow them into the center of the road.
Could it be whoever had attacked her at the river coming back to finish the job? She shivered, clutching the door handle hard enough her fingers hurt.
The truck shot forward again, bumping the rear of the Jeep as Logan accelerated. Not hard enough to release the air bags, but enough to whip her forward and lock her seat belt. She grimaced as her head smacked back into the seat.
Logan’s jaw clenched as he cranked the steering wheel to the left, trying to move the Jeep out of the way. He yanked a handheld radio out from its holder and tossed it onto her lap. “Call the dispatcher.”
She fumbled for the call button, holding the radio to her mouth, but it slipped out of her fingers as the Jeep jostled and bounced over the rough edge of the road.
“Hold on,” Logan said again as he slammed down the gas pedal.
Headlights filled the cabin as the truck pummeled into their bumper again. Logan grunted as he struggled to keep control of the steering wheel and Ashley clung to her seat as the Jeep careened toward cactuses and brush growing on the side of the road.
They rolled to a stop in a sea of prickly pears and spiky grasses. She let out a little sigh of relief as the truck swerved past them.
Until it stopped fifty feet ahead. Both doors opened. Whoever was getting out wasn’t coming to lend them a hand.
Logan gestured at the Jeep’s floorboard as he drew his gun. “Get down.”
She swallowed, sliding a hand toward her seat belt to unbuckle it, but at that moment more headlights appeared in the distance. This time, from the opposite direction.
Ahead of them, the truck’s doors slammed shut and its engine roared back to life. A second later it barreled away toward Terlingua in a cloud of dirt stained red by its taillights.
Logan flipped on the interior cab light. “You okay?” His brows pulled together in concern.
She took a couple of deep breaths, trying to slow her pounding heart, and nodded. “But I didn’t get the plates.” She retrieved the radio from her feet and handed it to him.
“It’s
