Smoky Mountains Ranger. Lena Diaz
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She swallowed. “Why do you say that?”
“Because they thought nothing of trying to shoot a federal officer. Your average thug thinks twice in a situation like that. They don’t want to risk bringing the wrath of the feds down on them. But our guys not only shot at us multiple times, they risked their own lives running up a dangerous trail to do it. My guess is they might lie low for a little while to see whether backup arrives. But not for long. Then they’ll be looking for a way to hike down here and find us.”
He motioned toward the radio hooked to his belt. “I’ve turned this thing on half a dozen times since our flight down the mountain. There’s no signal, not even a burst of static. One of the radio towers was destroyed in the wildfires. What we have to do is get within range of another tower so we can radio for help. Until then, we keep going.” He arched a brow. “Unless you can tell me why those men might decide to hightail it out of here without finishing us off. Just what are they after? Who are they?”
She hesitated.
His jaw tightened. “Jody—”
“I don’t know their names, other than the one calling the other Owen in front of both of us.”
“You’re splitting hairs. Not knowing their full names and not knowing what they want are two very different things. You were arguing with the first man when I approached. He later warned you to remember what he’d told you. What were you arguing about? What did he want you to remember?”
Without waiting for her reply, he pried her hand from the tree and tugged her through the woods.
Her foot skidded on some loose rocks. She let out a yelp, but he grabbed her around the waist and steadied her before she could fall.
“I’ve got you,” he said. “Try not to worry. My boots hold the trail a lot better than your sneakers. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, okay?”
His voice was gentle again. But there was an underlying thread of steel. He wanted answers. And he deserved them. Even if it meant she might go to jail, or at the least, have all her career aspirations ruined. All those years of college, the sacrifices she’d made, the two jobs she was holding down were for nothing. In one stupid week, she’d destroyed it all.
She jerked to a halt, pressing a hand to her throat. “I can’t believe how selfish I’m being, thinking about my future career and prison when Tracy’s missing.” She moved her hand to her stomach. “That’s just the kind of thing my adoptive father would do.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Your career? Prison? Wait, who’s Tracy?”
Jody groaned and whirled around, gagging as she dropped to her knees and emptied the contents of her stomach.
Suddenly a strong arm was around her waist and a gentle hand swept her hair back from her face, holding it loosely behind her as Adam spoke soothing words in her ear. She was too sick and miserable to protest his help. The spasms wouldn’t seem to stop and she started dry heaving.
“Deep breaths,” he said. “Slow, deep breaths. You’ll be okay. Slow and easy.”
Somehow the sound of his voice calmed her. She dragged in a deep breath, then another. The knots in her stomach eased, and she could finally breathe normally without feeling like her stomach was trying to kill her.
Her world suddenly tilted as he scooped her up into his arms. Before she could even ask him what he was doing, he’d set her down several feet away beneath the branches of a thick stand of trees. The realization that he was giving them cover in case the bad guys were around had her stomach clenching with dread. She pressed a hand to her belly.
“This should help.” A bottle of water and a wet cloth appeared as if by magic as he handed them to her from the backpack he’d been carrying.
She rinsed her mouth out and spit. After a long drink, she washed her face with the cloth.
“Better?” He was on his knees in front of her, his brow furrowed with concern.
“Better. Thank you.” She swept her hair back from her shoulders. Heat flushed her skin at the realization of what had just happened. She groaned and covered her face. “I can’t believe you witnessed that. And that you helped me. I’m so embarrassed.”
He tugged her hands down. “Jody, what made you so upset? Who’s Tracy? Is she in trouble?”
She nodded miserably. “I think so. She texted me. That’s why I was on the trail. Well, partly, anyway. I mean, I was in the parking lot. But she wasn’t there, so I checked the bathrooms, and when I came out, that guy was there...and he started toward me. I saw his gun sticking out of his pocket, so I ran. I just ran. Then he was there, on the trail, with the gun—”
“Take a breath.” He took one of her hands in his. “Back up. Who is Tracy?”
A ragged breath shuddered out of her. “My sister.” She waved her hand. “Not a real sister. She’s my friend. My very best friend. I don’t have any biological siblings, just adoptive sisters and brothers. Not that I’m knocking adoptive families in general. I think they can be wonderful, for other people. But it hasn’t turned out so well for me. We don’t exactly visit each other or exchange Christmas cards.” She drew a deep breath. “Tracy is not part of my adoptive family. She’s my friend, my best friend, more of a sister to me than my adoptive sisters ever were. And her family is more of a family to me than my adoptive one.” She closed her eyes and fisted her hands against the tops of her thighs.
“Tattoo Guy, he did something to her? To Tracy?”
She nodded and looked at him. “He abducted her. At least, that’s what he told me. I didn’t know, or I swear I would have called the police. I would never do anything to risk her life.” She pressed her hand to her throat. “I think I may have just killed her. By running, with you. I shouldn’t have done that.” She squeezed her eyes shut again.
“Jody, I need you to be strong. For your friend, okay? I know it’s hard. But you have to hold it together so we can figure out what to do. All right?”
She nodded and opened her eyes. “Okay. I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to apologize for. I’m going to ask you some questions and I need you to give me the answers. Short and to the point. And we need to keep moving while we talk.” He pulled her to her feet. “Can you do that?”
“I’ll try. Yes. I’m sorry.” She grimaced. “I know. Quit saying that.”
He smiled and pulled her with him through the trees. “What’s Tracy’s full name?”
“Larson. Her name is Tracy Larson.”
“Is she your age?”
“Yes. Twenty-four. We went to school together, from grade school through high school. She didn’t go to college. I went to TSU, Tennessee State University, I... Sorry. Short and to the point. I forgot. Sorry.”