“I think Taylor’s missing—”
24
Taylor
Iglanced at my phone for about the millionth time, still no service. I shoved it back into my pocket. I was officially lost. So freaking lost, it wasn’t even funny. And all I could hear in my head was Walker telling me not to go running or hiking on my own. It was on repeat, and I was about ready to bash my own head in to get rid of the refrain.
Everything had started out fine and dandy. I had looked up intermediate hikes in a book that the Coles had left at the cabin for guests. I found one that promised some gorgeous views but wasn’t too far outside of town.
When I got to the trailhead, I’d studied the map on the Forest Service sign. It seemed simple enough. I had veered slightly off the trail to try and catch a view of the lake from above and, apparently, hadn’t been paying close enough attention to the path I charted because when I turned back, I couldn’t find the trail again.
A tree branch smacked me across the face. Shit. I glanced at my watch. I was supposed to be at Jensen’s to tutor Noah two hours ago. Guilt churned my stomach. She was going to worry. On the upside, maybe she’d send someone to find my ass.
I picked my way through the underbrush, thorny bushes tearing up my shorts-clad legs. I was going to take the longest bath known to man when I finally made it home. The foliage began to thin, just a bit, and before long, I’d reached the edge of a ravine that allowed me to see down to Sutter Lake.
At last, a landmark. I just had no way of judging how many miles there were between me and the lake, and my water supply wasn’t the greatest. I studied the sun and my watch. It was still staying light until somewhat late into the evening, so I had at least five hours of daylight left. Could I make it to the lake or some other form of help in five hours with half a bottle of water?
Better yet, how would I get to the lake? The ravine was far too steep for me to traipse down, and the chances of me spraining an ankle or worse going that way were way too high. I nibbled on my bottom lip and spun my ring in place on my finger. Maybe if I just followed the edge of the ravine, I’d make it to a place that would be easier to cross.
At least following the gorge would take me downhill, which meant towards civilization. I rolled back my shoulders in an attempt to alleviate some of the tension that had made a home there, and set off again.
A rustling noise sounded to my right, and my head snapped up. I tightened my hold on the mini-canister of bear repellent.Please, God, don’t let this be a cougar or a bear. Please.I slowly turned my head towards the noise, eyes boring into the underbrush.
I couldn’t see a freaking thing. Probably just a rabbit or some other small, harmless creature. As carefully and noiselessly as possible, I continued on.
There were no sounds for several minutes other than my own muted footsteps on the pine needle-riddled forest floor and the faint sound of water at the bottom of the ravine. I let out a sigh. I had let Walker’s paranoid ramblings infiltrate my mind. All his talk of bears, cougars, and falling down with no one finding me until I was a pile of bones had gone right to my head.
My blood began to heat. The nerve of Walker, wielding his authority as an officer of the law just to freak me out. I was going to give him a piece of my mind when I made it back to civilization. He’d probably just said all those things so that I would run with him. So that he could have the time to delve into my psyche. Maybe he was one of those do-gooders who got off on putting damaged girls back together.
I inwardly cringed. That was a little harsh. Even for me. I rubbed at my temples. Being freaked out apparently brought out my inner-bitch. I sighed as a vision of Walker’s green eyes looking at me with concern filled my mind. I melted at the mental image alone. What was wrong with me? How could this man have such control over my body and brain when we’d barely touched?
I took another step, and a crunch sounded.That was me, right? Dry leaves beneath my sneakers?I glanced down, seeing nothing but dirt and pine needles. My heart rate picked up its pace. I slowed, searching the woods all around me for any signs of life.
Another rustle sounded to my right. Shit, shit, shit. I tried to remember if the hiking book said anything about possible encounters with wild animals. Did cougars stalk their prey? Was I supposed to freeze, play dead, or run if I came across one? My palms were slick with sweat. I frantically tried to adjust my grip on the bear spray. Would bear repellent work on cougars? My heart began to rattle against my ribs, and blood pounded in my eardrums.
A twig snapped even closer, and I froze. My breathing and the wind were the only things I could hear before a crack filled the air. Bark spit back from the tree mere inches from my face.What the hell?On instinct, I reared back. Something went whizzing by.
Holy crap. Someone was shooting at me. Bullets. Real, life-ending bullets headed straight for me. I didn’t think, I just ran. Skirting the edge of the ravine, I kept my hands out in front of me in an attempt to protect my face from the onslaught of branches.
The sounds of someone crashing through the underbrush came from behind me, and I pushed myself harder, not looking back. I begged my legs to not give up on me now. My harsh breaths cut through the mountain air.
I turned my head just slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of how close my invisible attacker was when my foot caught on a tree branch and I began to fall.
25
Walker
Igripped my phone so tightly, I worried it might break. “What do you mean you think Taylor might be missing?”
The sound of Jensen clearing her throat drifted across the line. An old, anxious habit. “Well…she called early this morning. Said she wanted to get in a hike before she tutored Noah and asked if she could push back our meeting time. I said that was fine, but she was supposed to be here over two hours ago.”
My stomach churned. This was not fucking good. Jensen kept talking, a nervous vomit of words. “I’ve called, and it goes straight to voicemail. I even put Noah in the car and drove over to the guest cabin. Her car’s gone. And I, uh, let myself in. I know it was invading her privacy, but I was worried. She wasn’t there, but all her stuff is, other than her keys, phone, and the basics.”
I squeezed the foam back of my office chair. It wasn’t fulfilling the need I had to break something, though. I hissed a breath through my clenched teeth, and the forced air made a whistling sound. “You knew she was going hikingalone?” The words were low, a guttural threat.
“I-I wasn’t sure. You know she’s been pulling away from us, so I didn’t want to push. And it isn’t like she’s not a grown adult.”
I shot my chair across the room. “But she didn’t grow up here, J. She grew up in a fucking city. She’s only lived in fucking cities.Yougrew up here.Youknow the kinds of trouble someone can get into while hiking alone.”
