Monroe, Melody S. - Verdict (Siren Publishing Classic) (25 page)

“Nice.”

“Come on. Let’s get back to the camp.”

They put the sleeping bags together and shoved them under the tarp.

“I guess we can’t have a fire, huh,” she asked.

“That would be a no. We might as well have a loudspeaker announcing where we are.”

“Too bad.”

He would have liked one, too. Nothing was more romantic that a hot fire, but tonight wasn’t for love. It was for survival.

She took a sip of her water, crawled into the sleeping bag and flicked off the flashlight. “We should take turns standing watch. I’ll take the first shift.”

He placed his weapon on the ground behind them. “You ever shoot a gun before?”

“As a matter of fact, I took lessons after my father was killed by someone he prosecuted.”

“Christ. And you still wanted to practice law?” The woman had less sense than he did.

“Now you sound like my mother, brother, and ex-husband, except Carlton liked the paycheck too much to complain a lot.”

Her bitter tone sent his body on alert. “What was he like?”

He couldn’t tell if her eyes were open or closed because she’d laid her arm across her forehead.

“A deadbeat and a cheat. I left him after he turned violent.”

He swallowed hard, and his fists balled at his side. The image of anyone hurting her tore at his gut, but before he could dwell on her history, a rustling in the woods echoed down the path. He sat up and froze. “Shh.” He wanted to learn more about her, her disappointments, her dreams, but that priority dropped when the noise filtered into his conscious.

“What is it?” she whispered.

He snatched up the gun and slithered out of the bag. “Wait here.”

Chapter Nineteen

Using his years of hunting experience in this forest, Stone crept through the woods without making a sound. From the moans and curses coming from the direction of the river, he prayed the person he’d trapped wasn’t an innocent bystander who’d been at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Instead of following the path directly to the spot, he climbed a small hill and cut along the ridge, careful not to give away his position.

Looking down from above, he spotted a man in a beige jacket struggling to get free from the trap. Moonbeams reflected off his blond hair. Bingo. He appeared to be the man with the knife. One down, one to go.

Stone sliced off a few sapling branches to use as makeshift cuffs. He headed toward the river, his weapon fixed on the man’s head. With the moon behind him, he bet the trapped man wouldn’t recognize him right away.

“Need help?” he said, trying to gauge the seriousness of the injury.

The guy fell back onto his elbows. “Oh, thank God. I thought I’d never see another human. I think I broke my ankle.” His breaths came out rapidly. “It hurts like a son of a bitch.”

Stone turned on the flashlight and instantly spotted the man’s sniper rifle next to Blondie. “You come out to hunt?” No respectable hunter would use such a weapon, especially with the attached night scope.

Blondie looked up, pain creasing his forehead. “It’s you.”

Before his captive could reach the weapon, Stone kicked the rifle away. “Yeah, it’s me.”

“Watson, you got to help me. I’ll die out here.” His voice didn’t ring true. His partner in the plaid shirt had to be near.

“Pity. You planned on me dying out here.”

The man had the decency to look away. “What do you want for your help?”

“Some answers.”

“Fine.” His mouth dropped open, and he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “Ask.”

“Who hired you?”

Blondie tugged again on his leg, and his foot lifted out of the hole. Stone backed up, cocked his gun, then lowered his arm when he saw the foot at an odd angle. Definitely broken. The guy wasn’t going anywhere.

Blondie took several breaths, his lips in a grimace. “Dom hired me.”

“Dom who?”

“Francisco.”

His body stiffened at the familiar name. Maria’s brother and possibly Peter Caravello’s future brother-in-law. “Why would Francisco want me dead?”

“Not you. The girl.”

“Woman. Why does he want her dead?”

The Caravellos and Franciscos were sworn enemies, like two pit bulls fighting for the same bone, or rather the same humans. Revenge for Caravello’s death wasn’t a motive. Joseph Francisco probably threw a party the day his archenemy was executed.

“She’s a loose end.”

“How?”

Before he got his answer, a muffled scream came from the direction of the campground. Susan. Stone snatched Blondie’s rifle and ran the best he could back toward the camp. Blood dripped down his thigh. Shit.

“You can’t leave me here, Watson. Come back. I’ll tell you more.”

He disregarded Blondie’s pleas. Susan was in trouble. She needed him.

Leaves rustled, enough to indicate a struggle. He dashed up the incline to the camp, ignoring the searing pain stabbing his wound. He’d failed to save his mother when she needed him. He wouldn’t lose Susan too.

When he reached the rocky overhang, the tent was empty as was the camp. Dammit. He stilled, willing his heart to slow so he could hear the sounds of the forest. Susan let out another sound, softer and more muffled than before. Adrenaline fueled him. He had to get to her before the bastard harmed her, or worse, killed her.

Both were high on the ridge above the campsite. He pictured the nearby fork on the path below and how it wound back to the other side of the ridge. Instead of taking the direct route upwards, he charged down the ridge and headed away from the river. He hoped to attack from the far side to surprise whoever had Susan. If Blondie could be trusted, that someone was Dominick Francisco, one mean son of a bitch.

He was halfway around the bend when all noise stopped. Stone stilled, every sense on high alert. Leaves blew in the wind but little else. No animals scurrying, no overhead planes, nothing. With care he moved onward, hoping Dominick would be too distracted by his captive to notice the approach. He debated using the light so he could move faster, but decided it might give away his location.

He neared the incline and stopped, wanting to get Dominick’s exact spot before he continued up the path. He tucked the Glock into his jacket, deciding to use the rifle instead. At night, the red sniper beam would illuminate his mark. When he’d served in Desert Storm, he’d used the same kind of gear. Lucky he knew the weapon by touch.

“Don’t move.” The command came from fifty feet above to his right.

Stone’s muscles locked.

“Go ahead and kill me. That’s what you came here for.” He was thrilled she was alive but wished to hell she wouldn’t bait the bastard.

Like a cat stalking its prey, Stone moved forward a step, stopped, then continued, in the hope the random noise would blend in with the surroundings.

“Where is he?” Dom whispered, his voice floating down the hill.

“I don’t know.” She was convincing. Good.

What followed sounded like gunfire to his heart, but the impact was more of a slap than a shot. She didn’t whimper or beg, and his pride bloomed.

Inch by inch he moved toward them. The clouds separated and cast Francisco in moonlight. The moment Stone was high enough to take aim, Susan jerked her head toward him. Crap. He lifted his finger to his lips. If she said anything, he’d lose his surprise.

Dom twisted around, his gun raised. “Watson, that you?”

Before he could decide whether to answer, Dom fired a shot. On instinct, Stone fired back—right after the red dot found its sniper’s mark.

Francisco stumbled backward and collapsed after taking a bullet to the chest.

Susan let out a small scream and he raced toward her, thankful Francisco’s aim was off. His leg buckled as he reached her, but he managed to right himself.

“Oh, God. Stone, are you hit?”

“No. I’m okay.” He stood and grabbed her shoulders. “What about you?”

“Now, I’m fine.”

Brave woman. He pulled his Leatherman from his pocket and cut the rope binding her hands. The moment he freed her, she wrapped her arms around his neck. Nothing ever felt so good. He kissed her forehead, then her salty lips. He thanked God he’d reached her in time.

“Where did he hurt you?” He stroked her hair.

“Just on my face, but I’ll live.” She looked in Francisco’s direction. “Is he dead?”

Stone stepped over to the man and clicked on the beam. The whites of his eyes glowed. “He ought to be. I shot him in the heart.”

To make sure, he nudged him with his foot. His prey didn’t move. Knowing two of the pursuers were out of commission boosted his flagging energy.

“What about the other man?” She clung to Stone’s arm.

“He won’t be going anywhere soon.”

“Do we know who they are or who they work for?”

“This fellow,” he said, nodding his head toward the dead man, “is Dominick Francisco.”

She sucked in a breath. “Joseph Francisco’s son?”

He was surprised she knew the name, but one of her colleagues might have tried the SOB at one time. “The one and only.”

“Why would he want to harm me?”

“That’s the mystery of the day.”

“And the other man? Who was he?”

“Never did ask his name, but he said Dominick, here, hired him to take you down. You screamed before I got to extract any more information. When I knew you were in danger, I ran.”

She dragged a hand down his shoulder. “My hero.”

“I like the sound of that, but a true hero wouldn’t have gotten you into this mess in the first place.”

She leaned her head against his chest and shivered. “You didn’t do anything to cause this mess.”

He rubbed her back, trying not to get sucked into believing she’d be willing to stay in his arms. “I should have anticipated someone would figure out I used to stay at the Traynors’ house every summer.”

“We’re safe now. That’s all that matters.” She stepped out of his embrace. “What’s our plan?”

“Get the hell out of here.” He wasn’t convinced the enemy stopped with these two, even though Dominick Francisco was one of the heavy hitters.

“Are we going back to the cabin?” She snuggled closer to him.

“No. It’s shorter to go to the highway than hike back. Let’s stop back at our campsite though.”

“I don’t think I can sleep knowing that crazy person is by the water.”

She was ever the tender-hearted one. “I meant, we need to collect our gear and head out.”

She looked around. “Are you going to leave that man out in the woods alone?”

What did she take him for? “No. Even if the guy did try to kill me, I couldn’t willingly let him freeze to death. That’s part of the reason why we need to leave now and get help. I’ll wrap him in one of our sleeping bags to tide him over.”

“Don’t you need to rest?” she asked.

She needed the rest more than he did. “I’d like a week vacation on the beach, but that ain’t going to happen.” He tugged on her waist. “Come on.” He prayed he wasn’t pushing her too hard.

* * * *

Richard stilled, the freezing air cutting through his jacket. “Was that a shot?”

Harrison raised his weapon. “Sounded like two back-to-back rounds to me. One from a rifle.”

At least the man proved useful for something. Had they not brought flashlights, Richard didn’t think Harrison would have made it this far since he kept stumbling over roots and rocks. He doubted the man had ever been in the woods before.

“Can we slow down?” Harrison clutched his chest.

“Stone might be in trouble. You can wait here, but I’m going ahead.” Richard hoped the let’s-save-Stone card would work.

“I’m coming.”

Damn.

“How far away do you think the shot was?” Harrison asked.

“Hard to tell in the woods. Could be a mile or two.”

“Okay.”

They hiked in silence. Richard listened for voices, footsteps, anything out of the ordinary. They came to a fork in the road and stopped, which was the third so far.

He turned around to Harrison, who was hanging onto a tree limb. What a sorry sap. “You want to take a guess the direction of the shot?”

If they guessed wrong, they’d miss Watson and the woman.

Harrison came along side him, his breath ragged. “I think the shot came from over there.” He pointed to the right branch.

Richard thought so too. He took three steps and halted. “I think I hear someone.”

Without getting confirmation from his partner, he took off at a faster pace. Less than a quarter of a mile later, he spotted a man down in the path, but waited for Harrison to catch up before he approached. It could be some kind of trap.

“You see something?” Harrison whispered.

Richard nodded and pointed to a large rock for his partner to crouch behind. He didn’t want him to muck things up. With his gun ready, Richard eased his way across the stream. The man in the path didn’t move. Richard clicked on his light. No movement. He gave him a small kick to see if he was alive.