Capturing the Huntsman. C.J. Miller

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      Horror washed over her and she gasped in air, doubling over and emptying the contents of her stomach on the ground in front of her.

      As quickly as horror had struck, so did fear. Grabbing Thor’s collar, she dragged him toward her cabin. She stumbled, the heel of her boot once again getting caught in the mud. Scrambling to her feet, she didn’t let go of Thor’s collar. She needed to call for help, but she needed to be somewhere safe.

      Entering her log cabin and bolting the door shut behind her, she reached for the satellite phone on the counter. She dialed 9-1-1 with shaking fingers.

      Calming the fear that pulled her vocal cords tight, she managed to choke out a few words. “I need help. I just found a dead body.”

      * * *

      Nathan Bradshaw caught the call from his police scanner. A body had been found near the Appalachian Trail at a campground called the Trail’s Edge. A woman had called it in to police. A witness? Besides not having an arsenal of resources at his fingertips, the lack of a witness had been one of the most difficult parts of the case. No one had lived to provide a description of the serial killer stalking the trail, and if anyone had seen anything, the person wasn’t coming forward with information.

      A quick internet search revealed the address of the Trail’s Edge campground, and Nathan plugged the location in to his GPS. The body wasn’t as close to the trail as the other victims, most of whom had been found in the backcountry, farther away from civilization. A break in the killer’s pattern or an unrelated murder?

      The only way to find out was to be on the scene.

      Nathan had been tracking the Huntsman for weeks, from Boling Springs, Pennsylvania, to Smithsburg, Maryland. The killer was consistent, which made it more infuriating that no one had caught him. Nathan was growing better at predicting his movements, and it was a matter of time before he got inside the killer’s head and caught him.

      Nathan needed to find justice for his sister. His mother, his former brother-in-law, his niece and his nephew were counting on him to catch Colleen’s killer.

      Nathan arrived on the scene in thirty minutes amid a flurry of activity. FBI agents were combing the area, shouting commands at the park rangers who’d been called to assist. The local police were on the scene, as well. Nathan scanned for a familiar face, irritation flickering when he spotted special agent-in-charge Roger Ford talking to a tall, slender woman. Nothing about her said law enforcement or park ranger. She had to be the witness.

      Roger Ford, Nathan’s former brother-in-law and the current lead investigator on the case, wanted nothing more than for Nathan to disappear. Ford was a good agent, but he was by the book. By the book wouldn’t catch the killer. But Nathan had no bounds to what he was willing to do.

      Ford had ten years more than Nathan on the job and he was using his considerable weight and connections to shut Nathan out. Punishment for what had happened between Nathan and Ford’s sister, or maybe Ford didn’t believe Nathan could be objective, but either way, Nathan had made a promise and he wasn’t backing down.

      Nathan knew the exact moment Ford spotted him. Their eyes connected across the distance, hostility plain on Ford’s face. Nathan gave Ford credit for blatant honesty. They’d never gotten along and Ford hadn’t pretended otherwise. The woman Ford was speaking with turned, as well, looking over her shoulder in Nathan’s direction.

      Nathan hadn’t seen her before, but his gut reaction was strong and swift. Even at this distance, he could see she was beautiful. She was nearly as tall as Ford, her body lithe, her brown hair pulled into a ponytail and her arms crossed over her chest. She wore khaki pants and a blue-and-gray windbreaker, a style he had seen on several hikers he had spoken with during the course of the investigation.

      Approaching Ford was a bad idea, but Nathan needed to speak to the witness. More than finding out what she knew, he wanted to talk to her. The impulse was so strong, he hadn’t realized he’d left his observation spot until he was standing next to her, facing Ford. She smelled of the outdoors, like fresh pine and earth.

      “What are you doing here? I told you to stay away from my crime scenes,” Ford said, annoyance clear in his voice. “You’re worse than the press.”

      “You know why I’m here,” Nathan said. When the FBI had refused to assign Nathan to the case, citing he couldn’t be objective because he was too close to one of the victims, Nathan had taken a leave of absence from the Bureau to investigate on his own time. The killer had proved to be smart and had avoided the FBI’s traps. If they wanted the killer in custody, they’d need to work outside the box. The red tape of the FBI didn’t allow anything outside the box.

      Nathan introduced himself. “Special Agent Nathan Bradshaw.”

      “Stop misleading the witness. You’re not working this case,” Ford said.

      Curiosity gleamed in the brunette’s eyes. She ignored Ford and extended her hand. “Autumn Reed. This is my campground. I am the person who found the body.” Her voice quavered and he shook her hand. It was trembling.

      Ford gritted his teeth. “Why don’t you either enjoy your vacation or go back to work on another case instead of impeding my work on this one?”

      Abandoning this case wasn’t an option for him. Colleen’s killer deserved to pay, and Nathan would see that she and his family had justice. “You know I can’t walk away from this one.”

      Ford’s face didn’t relax even a fraction of an inch. He believed it was most important to follow protocol, and Nathan on the scene flew in the face of the rules.

      “If you won’t walk away, I can force you to stay away. Don’t make a nuisance of yourself,” Ford said.

      Nathan tucked his hands into the pockets of his pants. “I don’t plan to be a nuisance. I plan to catch a killer.”

      * * *

      Autumn rubbed her temples, a massive headache throbbing. Fifteen minutes after she had made the emergency call, park rangers, CSI and local police had converged on her land. The FBI had arrived later.

      The most recent arrival was a man who had taken post next to her. His serious expression and deep-set eyes drew her to him. Whatever his reason for being on the scene, Autumn was glad he was. Though he hadn’t cracked a smile, an air of strength and bravery surrounded him. Her instincts about people were usually pretty good, and her instincts told her Nathan Bradshaw was a good friend to have.

      He was handsome, almost too handsome. She felt a little guilty for thinking about his looks under the circumstances, but it was hard not to notice. His dark hair was cropped close to his head in a look she liked. Broad shoulders tapered to a lean waist, and the tailored cut of his black wool coat suggested wealth and style. Not the best jacket for hiking, but it looked great on him.

      Special Agent Ford continued to talk about the investigation. “The sheriff mentioned you live here with your brother. Where is he?”

      The mention of her brother chilled Autumn to the core. She believed what she had seen in the woods to be the work of the Huntsman. No one had outright said it, but she knew it. Her concern for her brother increased tenfold. “Blaine is hiking the trail. I haven’t heard from him in a few weeks.”

      “The sheriff tells me your brother has been in trouble around here,” Ford said.

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