Taking Aim (2 page)

Each woman carried a rifle in her scabbard, for hunting or warding off dangerous animals. They also carried enough ammo for a decent round of target practice in case they didn’t actually see any game on the trail, which they hadn’t up to this point. Tracie had the added protection of a nine-millimeter Glock she’d carried with her since she left training at Quantico.

“Whatever you say.” Tracie grimaced at her. “My rifle’s loaded and on safe.” She patted the Glock in the holster she’d worn on her hip. “Ready?”

“I don’t like it, but let’s follow. Maybe we can talk them into returning with us.” Jacie squeezed her horse’s sides. That’s all it took for D’Artagnan to leap forward and start down the winding trail to the base of the canyon.

“Hey, guys! To make it back to camp for supper, we need to head back in the next hour,” Jacie called out to the men ahead.

Either they didn’t hear her or they chose to ignore her words. The men didn’t even look back, just kept going.

D’Artagnan set his own pace on the slippery slope. Jacie didn’t urge him to go faster. He wanted to catch up, but he knew his own limits on the descent.

The two men riding ahead worked their way downward at a pace a little faster than Jacie’s and Tracie’s mounts. At the rate they were moving, they’d have a substantial lead.

Jacie wasn’t worried so much about catching up. She knew D’Artagnan and Tracie’s gelding, Aramis, were faster than the mare and gelding ahead. But there were many twists and turns in the canyon below. If they didn’t catch them soon, they stood a chance of falling even farther behind. It would take them longer to track the two men, and dusk would settle in. Not to mention, it would get dark sooner at the base of the canyon where sunlight disappeared thirty minutes earlier than up top.

As Jacie neared the bottom of the canyon, the two men disappeared past a large outcropping of rock.

D’Artagnan stepped up the pace, stretching into a gallop, eager to catch the two horses ahead. The pounding of hooves reverberated off the walls of the canyons. Tracie and Aramis kept pace behind her. If the two clients had continued at a sedate rate, they would have caught them by now.

The deeper the women traveled into the canyon, the angrier Jacie became at the men. They’d disregarded her warning about drug traffickers and about entering the national park with firearms, and they’d disrespected the fact that the horses didn’t belong to them. They were Big Elk Ranch property and belonged on the ranch.

At the first junction, the ground was rocky and disturbed in both directions as if the men had started up one route, turned back and taken the other. In order to determine which route they ended up on, Jacie, the better tracker of the twins, had to dismount and follow their tracks up the dead end and back before she realized it was the other corridor they’d taken.

Tracie stood guard at the fork in case the men returned.

Jacie climbed into the saddle muttering, “We really need to perform a more thorough background check on our clients before we let them onto the ranch.”

Her sister smiled. “Not all of them are as disagreeable as these two.”

“Yeah, but not only are they putting themselves and the horses in danger, they’re putting the two of us at risk, as well.” Jacie hesitated. “Come to think of it, maybe we should head back while there’s still enough light to climb the trail out of the canyon.”

Tracie sighed. “I was hoping you’d say that. I don’t want you to get hurt out here.”

“Me? I was more concerned about you. You haven’t been in the saddle much since you joined the FBI.”

“You’re right, of course.” She smiled at Jacie. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Agreed. Let them be stupid. We don’t have to be.” Jacie turned her horse back the way they’d come and had taken the lead when the sharp report of gunfire echoed off the canyon walls.

“What the hell?” Jacie’s horse spun beneath her and it was all she could do to keep her balance.

Aramis reared. Tracie planted her feet hard in the stirrups and leaned forward, holding on until the gelding dropped to all four hooves.

More gunfire ensued, followed by the pounding of hooves, the sound growing louder as it neared them.

Tracie yelled, “Go, Jacie. Get out of the canyon!”

Jacie didn’t hesitate, nor did her horse. She dug her heals into D’Artagnan’s flanks, sending him flying along the trail. She headed back the way they’d come, her horse skimming over the rocky ground, his head stretched forward, nostrils flared.

Before they’d gone a hundred yards, Rocky, the gelding Mr. Jones had been riding, raced past them, eyes wide, sweat lathered on both sides, sporting an empty saddle, no Mr. Jones. Rocky hit the trailhead leading out of the canyon, scrambling up the slope.

Jacie dared to glance over her shoulder.

Mr. Smith emerged from the fork in the canyon trail, yelling at Ginger, kicking her hard. Both leaned forward, racing for their lives.

The distinct sound of revving motors chased the horse and rider through the narrow passage. An ATV roared into the open, followed by another, then another until four ATVs spread out, chasing Mr. Smith, Tracie and Jacie.

Jacie reached the trail climbing out of the canyon first, urging D’Artagnan faster. He stumbled, regained his footing and charged on.

Tracie wasn’t far behind, her horse equally determined to make it out of the canyon alive and ahead of the ATVs.

Mr. Smith brought up the rear on Ginger.

As Jacie reached the top of the slope, she turned back, praying for Tracie to hurry.

Her sister had dropped behind, Aramis slipping in the loose rocks and gravel, distressed by the noise behind him. Just when Jacie thought the two were going to make it, shots rang out from the base of the canyon.

One of the ATVs had stopped, its rider aiming what appeared to be a high-powered rifle with a scope up at the riders on the trail.

Another shot rang out and Mr. Smith jerked in his saddle and fell off backward, sliding down the hill on his back.

His mount screamed and surged up the narrow trail past Tracie and Aramis.

Three of the ATVs raced up the path, bumping and slipping over the loose rocks.

From her vantage point at the top of the ridge, Jacie stood helpless as the horror unfolded.

Aramis reared, dumping Tracie off his back. She hit the ground and rolled, sliding down the slope back toward the base of the canyon.

Jacie yanked her rifle from its scabbard, slid out of her saddle and dropped to a kneeling position, aiming at the man at the base of the canyon.

The man was aiming at her.

Jacie held her breath, lined up the sights and pulled the trigger a second before he fired his gun.

His bullet hit the ground at her feet, kicking up dirt into her eyes.

For a second she couldn’t see, but when her vision cleared, she saw the man she’d aimed for lay on the ground beside his ATV, struggling to get up.

One down, three to go.

Ginger topped the rise, followed by Aramis, spooking D’Artagnan. He pulled against the reins Jacie held on to tightly. She didn’t let go, but she couldn’t get another round off while he jerked her around.

When he settled, she aimed at the closest rider to her. He was halfway up the hill, headed straight for her.

She popped off a round, nicked him in the shoulder, sending him flying off the vehicle. The ATV slipped over the edge of the trail and tumbled to the bottom.

The other two riders were on their way up the hill. One split off and headed back down the side, straight for where Tracie lay sprawled against the slope, low crawling for her Glock that had slipped loose of its holster. The other rider raced toward Jacie.

Jacie aimed at the man headed for Tracie.

D’Artagnan pulled against the reins, sending Jacie’s bullet flying wide of its target.

She didn’t have time to adjust her aim for the rider nearing the top of the hill. He was too close and coming too fast.

Jacie let go of D’Artagnan’s reins, flipped her rifle around and swung just as the rider topped the hill. She caught him in the chest with all the force of her swing and his upward movement. Jacie reeled backward landing hard on her butt, the wind knocked out of her.

The rider flew off the back of the vehicle and tumbled over the ridge.

Jacie scrambled to the edge and watched as the rider cartwheeled down the steep slope, over and over until he came to a crumpled stop, midway down.

The last rider standing had reached Tracie before she could get to her gun. He gathered her in his arms and stuck a pistol to her head.
“Pare o dispararé a mujer!”

Even if she couldn’t understand his demand, Jacie got the message. If she didn’t stop, he’d shoot her sister.

Two more ATVs arrived on the canyon floor.

Jacie had no choice. She didn’t want to leave her sister in the hands of the thugs below, but she couldn’t fight them when they held the trump card—her sister.

She eased away from the edge of the ridge and scoped her options.

D’Artagnan and the other horses were long gone, headed back to the safety of the Big Elk Ranch barn.

The ATV she’d knocked the rider off stood near the edge of the ridge. If she hoped to escape, she had to make a run for it.

Jacie ducked low and ran for the ATV, jumped onto the seat, pulled the crank cord and held her breath.

The two new ATV riders were on their way up the hill. The man holding Tracie fired off a shot, but his pistol’s range wasn’t good enough to be accurate at that distance.

The ATV engine turned over and died.

Jacie pulled the cord again and the engine roared to life. She gave the vehicle gas and leaped forward, speeding toward the closest help she could find. The Raging Bull Ranch.

She had a good head start on the other two, but they didn’t have to know where they were going; they only had to follow.

Jacie ripped the throttle wide open, bouncing hard over obstacles she could barely see in the failing light.

The sun had completely dipped below the horizon, the gray of dusk slipping over the land like a shroud. Until all the stars twinkled to life, Jacie could only hope she was headed in the right direction.

After thirty minutes of full-out racing across cactus, dodging clumps of saw palmetto, lights appeared ahead. Her heartbeat fluttered and tears threatened to blind her as she skidded up to a gate. She flung herself off the bike and fell to the ground, her legs shaking too badly to hold her up.

Dragging herself to her feet, she unlatched the gate and ran toward the house. “Help! Help! Please, dear God, help!”

As she neared the huge house, a shadow detached itself from the porch and ran toward her.

On her last leg, her strength giving out, Jacie flung herself into the man’s arms. “Please help me.”

Chapter Two

Zach staggered back, the force with which the woman with the long brown ponytail hit him knocking him back several steps before he could get his balance. He wrapped his arm around her automatically, steadying her as her knees buckled and she slipped toward the floor.

“Please help me,” she sobbed.

“What’s wrong?” He scooped her into his arms and carried her through the open French doors into his bedroom and laid her on the bed.

Boots clattered on the wooden slats of the porch and more came running down the hallway. Two of Hank’s security guards burst into Zach’s room through the French doors at the same time Hank entered from the hallway.

The security guards stood with guns drawn, their black-clad bodies looking more like ninjas than billionaire bodyguards.

“It’s okay, I have everything under control,” Zach said. Though he doubted seriously he had anything under control. He had no idea who this woman was or what she’d meant by
help me.

Hank burst through the bedroom door, his face drawn in tense lines. “What’s going on? I heard the sound of an engine outside and shouting coming from this side of the house.” He glanced at Zach’s bed and the woman stirring against the comforter. “What do we have here?”

She pushed to a sitting position and blinked up at Zach. “Where am I?”

“You’re on the Raging Bull Ranch.”

“Oh, dear God.” She pushed to the edge of the bed and tried to stand. “I have to get back. They have her. Oh, sweet Jesus, they have Tracie.”

Zach slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her to him to keep her from falling flat on her face again. “Where do you have to get back to? And who’s Tracie?”

“Tracie’s my twin. We were leading a hunting party on the Big Elk. They shot, she fell, now they have her.” The woman grabbed Zach’s shirt with both fists. “You have to help her.”

“You’re not making sense. Slow down, take a deep breath and start over.”

“We don’t have time!” The woman pushed away from Zach and raced for the French doors. “We have to get back before they kill her.” She stumbled over a throw rug and hit the hardwood floor on her knees. “I shouldn’t have left her.” She buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

Zach stared at the woman, a flash of memory anchoring his feet to the floor. He remembered his partner, Antoinette Gutierrez—Toni—in a similar position, her face battered, her hair matted with her own blood, begging for her life.

The room spun around him, the air growing thick, hard to breathe.

Not until Hank ran forward and helped the woman to her feet did Zach snap out of it.

“We’ll help,” Hank promised. “Where is your sister?”

The woman looked up and blinked the tears from her eyes, her shoulders straightening. “Wild Horse Canyon.”

“Joe.” Hank addressed one of his bodyguards. “Wake the foreman and tell him we need all the four-wheelers gassed up and ready to go immediately.”

Joe jammed his weapon into his shoulder holster and ran out the open French doors.

Hank turned to the other bodyguard. “Max, grab the first aid supplies from the pantry, along with one of the blankets kept in the hall closet. Meet us at the barn in two minutes.”

“A woman needs our help.” Hank turned to Zach. “Are you coming or not?”

The woman in question’s eyes narrowed as she stared from Hank to Zach. “I don’t care who comes, but we need to get there fast. If they take her hostage, the longer we wait, the harder it will be to find them.”

“Understood.”

Zach stared at the woman, his pulse pounding against his eardrums, his palms damp and clammy. “I’ll come.” The words echoed in the room, bouncing off the walls to hit him square in the gut. He’d committed to helping an unknown woman when he’d failed to help the partner he’d been with for three years.

Hank steered the woman toward Zach. “Find out what you can while I call the sheriff and let him know what’s going on.”

When Hank left the room, the woman glanced at Zach. “Are you coming or not?”

Having committed to the task at hand, Zach hooked the woman’s arm, ready to get the job over with as quickly as possible. “It would help if we knew who you are.”

“Jacie Kosart. I work on the Big Elk Ranch. It’s a three-hundred-fifty-thousand-acre spread bordering the Raging Bull and the Big Bend National Park.”

“Jacie.” He rolled the name on his tongue for a second, then dove in. “What were you doing out this late?”

“My sister and I were leading a big-game hunting party for my boss, Richard Giddings. The two men who’d commissioned us didn’t want to hunt on the normal trails the deer like to travel.” Jacie explained how they’d come to the canyon, the subsequent shootings and her escape. “We have to get back. I think they killed the two hunters. If not, they need medical help.” She gulped, tears welling again. “Tracie has to be all right. She just has to.”

“We’ll do the best we can to find her and bring her home.” Zach tried to sound confident when he felt nothing like it. If the men in the canyon had anything to do with the drug cartels, Jacie’s sister was as good as dead.

The sound of engines revving outside signaled the end of their conversation and the need to move.

Zach cupped Jacie’s elbow and led her through the French doors and out to the barn where five ATVs idled in neutral. The man Zach assumed was Hank’s foreman sat astride one of them giving the engine gas.

Hank, dressed in jeans, a denim jacket and cowboy boots, jogged down from the house flanked by his two bodyguards, each carrying an automatic assault weapon. Hank carried two, one of which he tossed to Zach. “In case we run into some trouble.”

Zach dropped his hold on the woman’s arm and caught the high-powered weapon, slipping it into the scabbard on one of the four-wheelers.

“You all right?” he asked Jacie.

She nodded. “Yeah. I just want to find my sister.”

The two bodyguards mounted a four-wheeler each and Hank took another, leaving only one left.

“The girl can ride with you. I don’t want her falling off and injuring herself. This way you can keep an eye on her and lead the way.”

Zach frowned but mounted the ATV and scooted forward for Jacie to climb on the back.

She balked, staring at Zach and the space allotted to her. “I can take the one I rode in on.”

“We don’t know how much gas it has in it, and given that you’ve passed out once, you’re better off riding with one of us.”

Zach sucked in a deep breath and let it out. “Get on.”

Jacie flung her leg over the back and slid in behind Zach, her thighs resting against his, her chest pressing into his back.

He revved the engine and shot out of the barnyard headed south.

With Jacie looking over his shoulder, directing him, he raced across the dark earth, dodging clumps of prickly pear cactus and saw palmettos.

The woman held on lightly at first, her grip tightening as Zach swerved in and out of the vegetation with nothing but the stars shining down on him from a moonless sky.

As they neared the edge of the canyon, Jacie pointed and yelled over the roar of the engine. “There!”

Zach pulled up short of the edge of the canyon. On the slim chance the assailants were hanging around at the bottom of the canyon, he didn’t want to provide them with a target at the top. He cut the engine.

Before he could dismount, Jacie was off the back and scrambling toward the edge.

He caught her as she lunged for the trail, yanking her back from the edge and out of line of sight from the bottom. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“My sister was down there. We have to save her.” She struggled against his hold.

“For all we know they could still be down there.”

She fought to free her arm. “Then let’s go.”

The other riders had pulled to a halt and dismounted.

Zach dragged Jacie over to Hank. “Hold on to her while I check it out.”

“Take Joe with you in case you run into trouble.”

“I do better on my own.” Zach crouched low and dropped over the rim of the canyon, slipping down the trail as quietly as possible. In the light from the night sky, he could make out where the trail was disturbed, one edge knocked free. Probably where a horse, a motorcycle or a four-wheeler had run off the side.

The bottom of the trail was bathed in shadows, making it hard to distinguish the boulders from crouching thugs waiting to pounce.

Careful not to fall off the edge himself, Zach moved swiftly down the trail, reaching the bottom. The shadows proved to be boulders and one wrecked ATV, crumpled among them. Nothing moved. Zach explored among the boulders to the other side of the ATV and found the body of a man laying at an awkward angle, facedown, his leg bent, probably shattered in the fall. The ground beside him sported an inky-black stain.

Zach didn’t have to guess that the stain was a drying pool of this man’s blood. This guy hadn’t died from the fall, based on the dark bullet-sized circle in the middle of his back. If Zach turned him over, he’d likely be a mess on the other side where the bullet exited his body.

Zach searched the area around the base of the cliff and shouted up, “Clear!”

Five four-wheelers inched down the narrow trail, lights picking out the way.

Joe led the pack followed by Hank, Max, the foreman and Jacie.

Zach frowned and met her as she cleared the trail. “You should have stayed at the top.”

“Did you find her?” Jacie glanced around, her eyes wide, hopeful. Then her shoulders sagged and she slumped on the seat of the ATV. “That’s Mr. Smith, one of the two hunters we were escorting.” She sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Tracie’s not here, is she?”

“Believe it or not, that’s a good thing.” Hank left his four-wheeler and crossed to Jacie. “If she’s not here, it’s a good chance that she’s still alive.”

Jacie’s jaw tightened. “Then come on, let’s find her.”

Zach shook his head. “It would be suicide to continue searching in the dark. If the attackers are in the canyon still, they would have the advantage and pick us off from above.”

“We can’t leave her out there.”

“Zach’s right. We have to wait until daylight.” Hank stood beside Zach. “Going in at night wouldn’t be doing your sister any favors.”

“Then I’ll go on alone.” As she pressed the gas lever, Zach grabbed her around the waist and yanked her off the bike.

“You’re not going anywhere.” Zach slammed her against his chest, his arms wrapping around her waist. “One captive is enough. We don’t want to risk another. Besides, your sister most likely wouldn’t want you to risk it.”

Jacie struggled against him. “Let go of me. My sister is my responsibility.”

“Then take your responsibility seriously and do what’s smart. We need to wait until daylight before we risk going into that canyon.”

The woman stopped. “I guess you’re right.”

When she quit struggling and seemed to settle down, Zach released her. In the next second, she shot across to the four-wheeler she’d left running, hopped on and took off on the trail leading into the canyon.

“Damn, woman.” Zach ran after her, catching up as she entered the narrow trail flanked by high cliffs.

As she slowed to negotiate around a boulder, Zach jogged alongside her and jumped on the back. “Stop, damn it!”

“Not until I find my sister.” She goosed the accelerator lever on the handle and nearly unseated him.

Zach grabbed around her middle and held on.

They slid around a corner, the starlight barely reaching them at this point.

About the time Zach steadied himself, Jacie hit the brakes and jerked the handles, sending the machine sliding sideways, and the tail end with Zach slipping around to the right.

* * *

J
ACIE
COULDN
’
T
LET
the search end. Not when her sister’s life hung in the balance.

When she saw the cowboy boot, she slammed on her brakes. In a random patch of starlight, a jean-clad leg peeked out from behind a large boulder.

Her heart skipped several beats and then hammered against the wall of her chest. Jacie threw herself off the four-wheeler and scrambled up from her hands and knees to run toward the leg, sobs rising from her throat, echoing off the canyon walls.

Footsteps crunched behind her. Probably Zach, but she didn’t care. If this was Tracie...
Oh, dear God, please be okay.

The other four-wheelers entered the canyon at a more moderate pace, coming to a halt behind Jacie’s.

She dropped to her knees beside a body, relief washing over her as soon as she saw it was a man.

“It’s Mr. Jones.” She felt for a pulse, her hand still for a long time before she glanced back at Zach, a glimmer of hope daring to make an appearance. “I have a pulse. It’s weak, but I have a pulse.” She leaned into the man’s face. “Mr. Jones, can you hear me?”

Nothing. Her hopes dying, she tried again, patting the man’s cheek gently. “Mr. Jones, please. Can you hear me?”

A muscle twitched in the man’s leg.

Encouraged, Jacie spoke louder. “Mr. Jones, we’re going to get you some help, but can you help us?”

The man’s eyes fluttered open. “Set...up.” He closed his eyes again.

“Mr. Jones!” Jacie wanted to shake the man but was afraid to add to his injuries. “Please, did you see where they went? Where did they take my sister?”

His eyes never opened, but his lips moved.

Jacie leaned in closer, tilting her head to hear what he whispered.

“Not Jones.”

Jacie leaned back. “What do you mean?”

The man whispered again.

Leaning close, Jacie caught what sounded like letters.

“D...E...A.” As if it had taken everything he had left, the last letter ended on a raspy exhale.

Mr. Jones, or whoever he was, didn’t draw another breath.

Jacie felt for a pulse. Not even a weak one thumped against her fingertips. “No pulse. He’s not breathing.” She clamped his nose with her fingers and breathed for him.

Zach dropped to his knees on the other side of him and leaned the heel of his palms into the man’s chest five times. “Now breathe,” he instructed.