Colorado Manhunt: Wilderness Chase / Twin Pursuit. Lisa Phillips

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      “You think that was a trap?”

      He nodded. She saw it out the corner of her eye as she drove toward the medical center, which was thankfully on this end of town.

      “You think he’ll be okay?”

      “I hope so.”

      She knew he wouldn’t like it if a law enforcement person was killed. Not when his job here was protection. She was the one he was supposed to be keeping safe—and alive—but she knew firsthand how they felt about collateral damage. And how deeply they reacted to the loss of what they’d refer to as “one of their own.”

      “If it was a trap,” she said, “wouldn’t they have waited for us to show up?”

      “I’d have thought so.”

      “Or hurt him.” She jabbed at the back seat with her thumb. “And taken his car?” Except they hadn’t, and now she was the one driving it. None of this made sense.

      “Maybe that was the plan, and then they got called away. Like to the cabin. Could be we crossed paths—or we would have if we hadn’t been cutting across the forest in these snowshoes.” He put his with hers, in the footwell of the back seat.

      “How are we supposed to figure out what the answer is?”

      He shifted and pulled the cell phone from his back pocket. “Still no signal.”

      “It’ll be a minute until we get closer to town. Unless you have the one carrier that literally gets zero signal no matter where in town you are.”

      “That would be disappointing.” He lifted the radio from the dash. Keyed the mic. “This is Deputy Marshal Trent. Is someone there?”

      Static was his only reply.

      “Something is going on, right?” She gripped the wheel, concentrating on driving in her lane and not freaking out. “I’m not crazy. There’s a whole bunch of cartel guys running around these woods all looking for me. And now it’s worse.”

      He sounded like he was talking through gritted teeth when he said, “Now it’s worse.”

      Great. Amy bit her lip and nudged her foot down on the gas pedal. No. That wasn’t going to be good. She eased off for the corner, half worried they would come up against some kind of roadblock. A group of cartel members waiting with their weapons, ready to kill her.

      But there was no one around the corner.

      They saw no cars on the road all the way to town. At the medical center, a single car had been parked at the far end of the parking lot. Amy drove all the way up to the front doors and jumped out.

      “I’ll carry him. You get them to bring a bed out.”

      She nodded and ran to the front doors, leaving the driver’s door open. She pushed on the door and nearly fell inside. “Help! We need help! The sheriff has been shot!” She didn’t know if that was true, but it was probably what’d happened. He could be a deputy.

      A nurse ran out, wary-eyed but ready to help. Black scrubs and a short pixie cut. She was probably in her fifties and had the build of a woman who watched what she ate and worked on her feet all day—but still loved to treat herself to dessert. “Where is he?” Amy waved at the door. “We need a gurney, or a stretcher, or whatever it’s called.”

      The woman grabbed a phone from the empty reception desk and hit one button. “Bring a bed.” She replaced the receiver.

      Amy said, “Is something going on?”

      Before the woman could answer, Noah strode in hauling the lawman over his shoulder again.

      A male in blue scrubs pushed a bed down the hall. Noah laid the lawman down. “It’s just the two of you?”

      The woman’s full attention was on the man on the bed. “That’s Deputy Higgins.”

      “Let’s get him in the back so we can check him out.” The man was younger and looked more scared than any of them.

      Amy СКАЧАТЬ