Witness Pursuit. Hope White

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СКАЧАТЬ needed out of here. She needed to get safe. Glancing at the kitchen counter, she eyed her keys lying beside her bag. Just as she started toward them she heard the rattling at the back door. He was there, trying to get in. She’d locked him out, which meant he knew someone was inside.

      She was inside.

      And if she reached for her keys now, he’d see her for sure.

      Dread gripped her chest. She was next.

      She counted to three. Calmed her breathing.

      She hadn’t survived a childhood fraught with illness to become a victim of random violence. She had things to do and places to explore, places on the other side of the world that she’d promised herself she’d visit once her health stabilized.

      She stroked the dog’s soft fur, which both helped keep him quiet and calmed her fear.

      The door rattled. More violently this time.

      Maybe the police would get here before he broke in. Maybe—

      A crash was followed by a click and footsteps.

      Cowering in the entryway, she heard floorboards squeak as he crossed the room. The sound of keys scraping against the kitchen counter sent a shudder of fear down her spine.

      He’d found her keys. He knew she was still here.

      She had seconds until...

      The pounding of footsteps sprinted toward the bedroom. Of course, where he thought he’d find Cassie, the intruder, potential witness to murder.

      This was her chance.

      She slid open the side window and climbed through, still clinging to the dog. Only then did she realize taking care of Dasher was keeping her somewhat sane.

      Once outside, she sprinted in the opposite direction of the master bedroom, assuming the guy might come looking for her.

      If only she could escape in her car, but that was impossible without her keys. She focused on her breathing, taking slow, calming breaths.

      The dog released a quick bark. “No, Dasher, no bark.”

      She spotted a trail up ahead leading to the next property, about half a mile away.

      Half a mile. She could do it. She wouldn’t be the victim of circumstance, a victim of “wrong place, wrong time.” There were so many things she had yet to accomplish, things she ached to experience.

      Like love.

      As she ran steadily, the dog flopping in her arms, she scolded herself for losing focus and thinking about such trivialities. Yet with danger barreling down on her, she was haunted by her biggest fear: she would never experience romantic love.

      Because her childhood illness had left her so damaged that no one would want her.

      Knock it off, she mentally scolded herself. This kind of thinking would not keep her alive.

      She made it to the trail and clenched her jaw with determination, thinking what a great story she’d be able to tell her friends when this was over. When she was safe.

      Towering trees reached for the sky on either side of her; the trail was well worn and easy to navigate. Which meant if she could navigate it, so could Shovel Man. She glanced over her shoulder. Didn’t see anything.

      She turned back to the trail. Increased her speed.

      A few minutes later he called out to her. “Hey! Stop!”

      He knew she was there, running for her life. She skidded as she took a sharp turn, but caught herself and managed not to slide over the edge into the abyss below.

      She peeked to her right, down into the steep drop, and it gave her an idea. If she could find a way down at the next turn, her pursuer might think she’d continued on the trail. Yes, that’s it.

      Somehow she needed to disappear, and quickly. She uncoiled her scarf from around her neck and wrapped the dog in it, then secured him against her chest. Thank God he was a little guy, probably seven pounds soaking wet. This was not something she could do with a golden retriever like Fiona, her sister’s dog.

      “Let’s go, Dasher.” Cassie peered over the edge. She needed to stay out of sight only until police arrived. “Emergency, this is Cassie McBride,” she said, speaking into the phone, still in her shirt pocket. “I’m climbing down the mountain to a safe spot, out of view.”

      “Is the perpetrator following you?”

      “Yes, I think so. I’m about a quarter of a mile south of the cabin. Send help.” She eyed the perfect spot to grab a tree root and lower herself.

      “Deep breathing, doggie,” she coached, as if the dog understood her. She grabbed the tree root jutting out from the mountainside, and lowered herself until she found a firm rock on which to plant her feet. The next step would be landing on a small ledge, about ten feet below.

      “Just like REI,” she said, referring to a rock-climbing class she’d taken months ago.

      She took a slow, deep breath. She could do this.

      With a grunt, she edged her right foot onto a thick tree branch sticking out from the mountain wall. She reached for another branch to hold on to.

      The branch beneath her foot snapped.

      And she dropped.

      * * *

      Police Chief Nate Walsh had a firm grip of one end of the stretcher, and Eddie Monroe had the other. As a search-and-rescue volunteer, a sense of satisfaction gave Nate the added strength necessary to make the final trek down the mountain carrying the injured woman.

      It was a good thing they got to her when they did, since it would be dark soon. Darkness would have made the mission more challenging, even though her injuries weren’t life-threatening.

      Although some folks in town had expected him to give up his SAR work when he was named police chief last year, helping people, saving them from the dangers of the wild, gave Nate a sense of control over the random chaos of life.

      Random, like his partner’s death nearly four years ago on the Chicago PD. Perhaps if Nate had known where Dean’s head was at he’d still be alive, along with the witness Dean had been protecting.

      The witness Dean had fallen in love with.

      If Nate had only known, he would have convinced his partner to not let something like love cloud his judgment and ruin his career. Which was probably why his partner decided not to share.

      Sometimes people considered Nate’s firm opinions as judgmental, yet he was about protecting family and friends. Besides, Nate wouldn’t be arrogant enough to pass judgment, since he was far from perfect.

      These days he’d strive to be as close to perfect as possible for the citizens of Echo Mountain. Volunteering for SAR kept him connected with his community, even if some of these folks wondered how he had the time given his chief duties.

      He СКАЧАТЬ