Secret Mountain Hideout. Terri Reed

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       TWO

      The air swooshed out of Chase’s lungs. If he hadn’t been sitting, he’d have fallen to the floor. His mind raced and his blood pounded. The man posing as Detective William Peters was a fake. The real detective was dead.

      Jane was in danger.

      Kidnapped. And Chase had let it happen.

      Guilt reached up to throttle his windpipe. He’d made a horrible mistake by not stopping the fake detective. Now Jane would pay the price.

      “Whoever this woman is, she could be a potential witness to the real Detective Peters’s murder,” Chief Macintosh continued.

      Chase’s stomach sank. “She claims she can ID a killer.”

      Excitement buzzed in the chief’s voice. “Did she give a name?”

      “No, sir.” She’d been too afraid. He could only imagine how terrified she was now. She’d tried to warn him not to trust anyone. Chase had lost control of the situation. A rookie mistake. He wasn’t a rookie anymore. Self-anger burned in his gut.

      “You need to find this phony detective before he kills her,” Chief Macintosh said, his tone grim.

      “I will.” Chase hung up with knots in his stomach.

      The man said they had a plane to catch, which meant they were headed to Denver. He needed the state patrol’s help. He jerked to his feet. “Carole, can you get the state patrol on the line?”

      “Chase?” Deputy Kaitlyn Lanz rose from her desk. “What’s wrong?”

      “The real Peters is dead. The man posing as him most likely is an assassin sent to silence Jane. We have to find them.”

      Eyes wide with a mix of worry and surprise, Kaitlyn said, “Yes, of course.”

      Carole hurried from her desk. “Sheriff, the phones are blowing up again. A speeding black SUV nearly ran down Brady Gallo. Others are reporting the vehicle heading up Bishop Summit.”

      Chase was familiar with the forestry road on the backside of Eagle Crest Mountain, which led to the ski resort at the top. It was a dangerous, twisty climb with lots of cliffs on one side. The assassin wasn’t taking Jane to Denver but to a remote area to kill her.

      “Also, Lucca Chinn is here, wanting to know what’s going on,” Carole said.

      Groaning aloud, Chase jerked his gaze to the sheriff. The last thing they needed was The Bristle Township Gazette’s publisher, reporter and custodian—the man was a one-person operation—sticking his nose into the situation. Even a small town had someone who insisted the public needed to be kept informed, and Lucca Chinn had appointed himself the resident news source.

      “I’ll take care of Chinn,” the sheriff stated. “You go.”

      Galvanized into action, Chase ran out the door with deputies Daniel Rawlings and Kaitlyn Lanz on his heels.

      “I’ll be right behind you.” Kaitlyn peeled away and ran toward her own vehicle.

      Chase didn’t stop to question why she needed to drive her own truck pulling a horse trailer as he slid into the driver’s seat of one of the department-issued vehicles while Daniel hopped into the passenger seat. Chase lifted a prayer that he would get to Jane before it was too late.