Collecting Evidence. Rita Herron

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СКАЧАТЬ Margaret agreed, then thanked him, and he walked Aspen to the car. She settled into the passenger side and buckled her seat belt, the tension thickening as he drove away from the shelter.

      “Sister Margaret said that you were injured when you arrived at the center. That you thought that someone, an abusive boyfriend, was after you.”

      She shrugged. “It seemed like a likely story, Agent Acevedo.”

      “Call me Dylan.”

      She gave him an odd look, then nodded.

      “Did the abusive boyfriend idea come from a memory?” he asked.

      She fidgeted, looking back at the center as if she wanted to return to the safe haven she’d found within that iron fence. “Not really. Just a feeling that I was running from someone.” Her voice warbled. “And then there are the nightmares.”

      “Nightmares?”

      She nodded, her brown eyes huge in her face. “Nightmares of fighting some man, of running, of hearing the river and being cold…”

      She angled her head to study his face. “Can you fill in any of the missing pieces?”

      “Some, but not all. We found your car smashed into a tree by the San Juan River.” He paused, debating over whether to tell her that her son had been left in her car. “There was evidence of a struggle. Blood in the car. We didn’t know if you’d survived or if you might have drowned in the river.”

      She made a low sound in her throat. “My cousin…She was worried?”

      He nodded and gently placed his hand over hers in an attempt to calm her, although heat radiated through him. He wanted more, wanted to hold her and assure her everything would be all right.

      Wanted to shake her for not telling him that they had a son together.

      “Yes, Aspen, her name is Emma, and she’s anxious for you to come home.”

      Relief filled her eyes, and she relaxed slightly. As much as he wanted to press her, he forced himself to rein in his emotions and let her absorb what he’d told her.

      “You look exhausted,” he said. “Why don’t you try to rest during the drive? I know Emma will want to talk when we arrive.”

      She gave him a wary look, but nodded. A second later, she curled up against the door and fell asleep, but even in sleep, her body seemed wound tight and braced for battle as if she expected her attacker to reappear any minute and end her life as he’d tried to do before.

      

      THE NIGHTMARES RETURNED AGAIN.

      Aspen struggled to wake herself, determined not to let them suck her into the darkness, but the heavy pull of fear yanked her back to the day she’d been running.

      Running, but from whom?

      If she could only see the man’s face…

      She crawled along the steep rocks, fighting to steady herself as the river raged below, the snow-capped ridges reminding her that the water would be dangerous and freezing. That although she was an excellent swimmer, there was no way she could survive the icy temperatures or strong current.

      Then the hands were upon her, clenching, hitting, choking her, dragging her into the murky depths of death.

      She screamed, snippets of her life flashing in front of her. The Ute reservation, the casino, the Trading Post, the children gathering for a Ute celebration. The Bear Dance in the spring and the Sun Dance at Mesa Verde.

      Her mother teaching her the ways of the people. The childhood stories of the Sky People, the legend of the Sleeping Ute Mountain, and the ghost stories her mother insisted she pass on about the sacrifices of their ancestors.

      Then she was drowning, the icy water sucking her down to the bottom, the rocks beating against her skin, the whisper of death calling her name.

      She jerked awake, shaking and disoriented. Suddenly she felt the agent’s hand on hers again. “More nightmares, Aspen?”

      She lifted her head, pushed a strand of hair that had escaped her braid from her eyes and tried to steady her labored breathing. “Yes.” She glanced down at his hand, aching to cling to him for protection, but she hardly knew the man. Still, he made her feel safe as if he wouldn’t leave her to the terrifying memories that hacked at her sanity, tapping at the fringes of her conscience yet evading her.

      While she’d slept, the weather had changed. Dark ominous clouds hovered above the ridges, the mountain runoff filling the potholes and shoulder with rising water. A chill filled the car, the temperatures dropping as they neared the canyon.

      The road was virtually deserted, the landscape colored with shadows, prairie grass and scattered rocks. In the distance, the sound of a coyote rent the air, the slap of the windshield wipers battling the light rain eerie in the silence.

      Occasionally they passed a pueblo style house, the elements having beaten its beauty to a muddy brownish orange. The story she’d told the children earlier reminded her that this area was dangerous territory for the reemergence of the grizzly bear.

      And the ghost town that had once been a miner’s haven made her anxious to return to civilization.

      A gust of wind that sounded like a freight train sent tumbleweed swirling across the road, then suddenly bright headlights appeared behind them, racing up on their tail.

      Aspen tensed as Dylan swerved, the car bounced over a rut in the road and hit a wet patch. The car behind them rammed into their tail, sending the sedan fishtailing across the dark highway, skimming rocks and spewing gravel and dirt.

      Dylan cursed in Spanish and steered into the skid in an attempt to regain control.

      But the car raced up behind them, rammed them again, then swerved to their right and a gunshot pierced the side of the car.

      Aspen screamed, and Dylan shoved her head down. “Stay low!”

      Dylan sped up, weaving left then right, as if he intended to outsmart their attacker at his own game of cat and mouse. The sedan sent the other car sliding off the road toward the creek, which looked as if it was about to flood from the mountain runoff.

      Aspen covered her head with her hands, leaning down so her forehead touched her knees. But a second later, the other car’s tires squealed and the vehicle slammed into them again. Another shot shattered the window on the passenger side, sending glass raining down on top of her.

      She cried out again, and Dylan shouted another obscenity, losing control as the sedan careened off the road, bounced over shrubs and rocks and hit a tall rock formation. Metal screeched and gears ground together as they spun toward the ridge out of control. The car flipped on its side, rolled and landed upside down in the creek bed. The air bag exploded, knocking the wind out of her and trapping her in the seat.

      Aspen thought she might have passed out for a moment, and when she recovered, her breath huffed out in tiny pants as water began to seep through the window.

      “Are you okay?” Dylan shouted.

      They СКАЧАТЬ