Part 28 (1/2)

”I'm going to feed your skull to my bugs. No time for more. Just your skull.”

With a thrill of exhilaration, she picked up what she thought was her weapon. Was only a rock. Her fingers clasped around it tightly. And then she waited. Barely daring to breathe.

”Ah.” She could here him moving on the forest floor of the roof of the cave. ”Hurt yourself, didn't you? I warned you, but you didn't listen. They never do.”

She huddled in a ball, just inside the entrance of the cave. A few feet inside so she'd have the shadows for cover. Then he was blocking the entrance, crouched down to peer inside, the shotgun in one hand.

When he caught sight of her, he smiled. ”I promise I'll take the best of care with your skull. You'll be my new favorite.”

She lunged. Swung the rock with all her might and struck him across the bridge of the nose. He howled, backed away frantically but slipped on the icy floor of the cave. Cait dove for the shotgun, and felt the shape of her weapon beneath her body. Reached for it.

When they fired, the two shots sounded as one.

Zach stared out at the d.a.m.n rain moodily. The rain p.i.s.sed him off. The mud he'd slogged through up the drive to his house p.i.s.sed him off. His mood, not the sunniest to begin with, had taken a decided downturn within minutes of entering JD's when Joanie Barton had lasered her sites on him.

Normally the woman was too busy to toss him more than a casual hi. But despite the throng of people crowded inside the place, she'd had the time to march right up to him and read him the riot act.

About Caitlin Fleming, of all things.

Apparently his was guilt by a.s.sociation, and Cait's sins, according to Joanie, were numerous. Supremely aware of the avid ears and sympathetic gazes all around him, he'd tried his best to soothe the woman, who'd been as close to hysterical as he'd ever seen her.

And when he'd figured out her outrage centered on Del being taken in for questioning, he could understand her wrath.

Barton? He was a c.o.c.ky little s.h.i.+t, no doubt about it, but he'd rank about dead last on the suspect list in Zach's book. He couldn't imagine the man climbing a boulder, much less hiking up Castle Rock in the dead of night with a set of bones on his back. And since he'd been on the receiving end of one of the sheriff's miscalculated interrogations himself recently, he'd been ready to empathize with Joanie and her husband.

Until she'd started in on Cait.

He s.h.i.+fted uncomfortably in the recliner. Well, h.e.l.l, he could hardly stand there, could he, while the woman called Cait names he'd never heard come out of a female's mouth before? Apparently coming to Cait's defense made his a graver sin than hers had been.

He'd told her a few hard truths, and now he was banned from JD's for life. Or until Joanie got over her mad, whichever came first. The way the woman could hold a grudge, he was betting on the former.

His cell rang and he considered not answering it at all. There wasn't a person in the world he felt like talking to.

That thought was immediately revised when he checked the caller ID.

Cait.

Resisting the urge to rub his suddenly damp palms on his jeans, he answered. ”Okay, I screwed up last night, but I'm guessing after the last hour I've had, we're even.”

He waited for her response. ”Cait?” He knew the call hadn't been disconnected. He could hear her breathing. Thready and weak.

”Funny you were . . . the first I called. Funny, huh?” He frowned, straightening a bit in his chair. Had she been drinking? Her voice was slurred. ”Should've . . . called Andrews. Told her. But wanted you. Should have had . . . you with me. Thought that. Before.”

”Where are you?” He was on his feet, heading for the mudroom for a rain slicker. ”Are you okay?”

”Hurts. G.o.d it hurts.” Was that a laugh or a sob? Panic unleashed, galloped through him. ”He's dead, though. He's dead. Both dead. Gibbs.”

”Gibbs is dead?” What was going on? He ran out the door. Down the slick board that served as a walkway. Yanking the hood of the slicker over his head, his boot slipped. Landed in the mud. ”Where are you?”

”Sawyer's. Ice. I 'membered.” Her voice was fading. And the fear inside him roared through his system. Thundered through his veins until it was a living breathing beast. ”Fell. But I thought . . . of you. Why is that, Sharper?” He had to strain to hear the words as he turned the key in the ignition and flipped the Trailblazer into gear. ”Why's my last . . . thought of you?”

”You're at Sawyer's Ice Caves?” Fear made his voice rough. What the h.e.l.l would she be doing there? ”I'm coming to get you, baby. Just tell me. You're at the caves?”

But there was no answer. No matter how many times he yelled her name, there was no answer.

And this time he couldn't hear her breathing.

”You stay the h.e.l.l clear of there, you hear me, Sharper?” Andrews sounded like she was issuing the order through clenched teeth.

Zach peered out into the night, between the swipe of the wipers on the winds.h.i.+eld. ”f.u.c.k that. I'm going after her.”

”I've got men in the area, and I redirected them as soon as you called in. But you stay put. There's an armed suspect in the region, and I don't want you in the crossfire.”

”Then tell them to keep out of my way.” He clicked disconnect and dropped the phone to the seat. Clenched the steering wheel until his knuckles ached. And did the one thing he hadn't done since coming back from Afghanistan.

Prayed.

”Cait!” The sweep of the Maglite was little help in the utter darkness of the forest. The wind blew the rain sideways, tiny needle p.r.i.c.ks of bone-deep chill. The canopy of trees provided little protection as he went farther into the interior of the forest. ”Cait!”

He checked the biggest of the caves first. And his bowels went to ice when he saw the body crumpled in the entrance. With his heart a hard knot in his chest, he pulled the figure over. Shone his light in what was left of the man's face.

”Jesus.” He took a hasty step back. Jodie Paulsen? What the h.e.l.l did Jodie have to do with this mess?

”Cait. Dammit.” Dread was trickling down his back to pool nastily at the base of his spine. Frantically he swept the area with the beam of the light. Took two steps away before comprehension slammed into him and he bounced the beam back to the small figure leaning against the base of a nearby pine.

”Cait!” Her lack of response was like having a spike drilled into his gut. He ran to kneel beside her, setting the Mag next to him so it bathed her in its beam. Her face was white. Deathly so. And her hands, when he lifted them to feel for a pulse, were frigid.

Her pulse was a mere flutter, but his relief was nearly overwhelming. That emotion dampened immediately when he noticed the blood covering her. Paulsen's? Or her own?

His hands shook as he ran them over her, halting when she moaned. And when he saw the blood cover his palms, he felt true fear for the first time in years.

Her eyelids fluttered. ”Sharper.” And miraculously she smiled a bit. ”I knew . . . you'd . . . find me.”

Rapidly he shed his slicker, pulled his s.h.i.+rt over his head and began ripping at its seams for makes.h.i.+ft bandages. ”That's right, baby, I found you. I'll always find you.”

Fear lodged in his stomach like molten lead as he pressed the cloth against her wounds to stanch the blood loss. He just hoped like h.e.l.l that he hadn't found her too late.

Epilogue.

ONE MONTH LATER.

”So you've got all the remains identified?”

Cait c.o.c.ked an eyebrow at Adam Raiker, who was roaming the length of the lab, the head of his heavily carved cane clasped in one scarred hand. ”All but one. I told you that on the phone yesterday.”

He turned to look at her with his lone eye, the patch over the other making him look like a modern-day pirate. ”It's been twenty-four hours since we spoke. What have you been doing?”