James forced his eyes closed, trying not to think about the root jabbing at his back through the thin pad he’d laid his sleeping bag on. Trying not to think about his conversation with Cassidy. He’d never tell her how his parents had blamed her, hated her, after Hallie’s death. He’d never tell Cassidy how his parents had cursed the day she’d walked into their lives.
But thinking about Cassidy wasn’t the only thing keeping him awake.
The noise earlier—the falling rock—had surely been caused by an animal. James had bundled their food and tied it on a branch a good hundred yards away, just in case it was a bear that had stalked them all afternoon.
Black bears weren’t usually dangerous to humans. They could be if they were hungry, but there was plenty of vegetation on this mountain to feed them. And if they’d spooked a mama bear and her cub earlier, the animals would have stayed as far from him and Cassidy as possible.
Could’ve been a bobcat. Thing was, he couldn’t imagine a bobcat inadvertently sending a rock careening down the hill. They were stealthy, careful on their feet. Unlikely to accidentally dislodge a rock and give their position away.
Honestly, if they weren’t so secluded up here, James would suspect a human had done it.
And since they were, theoretically, on the trail of a human—a kidnapper and murderer—the idea wasn’t so farfetched.
All his years of spurning God, and now, with Cassidy’s life in danger, he recited Psalm four, verse eight, reminding himself that God did indeed make them dwell in safety. Despite all his losses and disappointments over the years, he believed it. Old habits? Or had he always believed and only pretended not to, insulating himself from more loss?
Either way, God’s promises weren’t far from his mind now.
He reminded himself of Psalm ninety-one, which promised protection from danger. He’d memorized those scriptures as a child. After Hallie’s abduction and murder, he’d quit believing God was listening. Now, though… He needed God to be listening. Needed God to protect and guide them.
If someone was out there, someone who recognized Cassidy, someone who might believe she would recognize him…
If the killer knew she was here, she wasn’t safe.
It was that simple.
He was an idiot for bringing her up here. Except, if he hadn’t come with her, she’d have continued the search alone. If James thought she was vulnerable now, he didn’t want to think about what could’ve happened to her if she were by herself.
A third victim of the same killer?
Assuming the recent kidnappings were related to what happened to Hallie and not a copycat.
And assuming Cassidy was telling the truth.
He finally drifted to sleep only to awake with a start. There’d been a noise. Not one of the natural noises of the forest. Those he was accustomed to. This had been sharper, like the snap of a branch.
In the tent beside him, just inches away, Cassidy’s breaths were low and steady. Seemed she’d finally fallen into a deep sleep.
Except for that snap, he’d think they were alone.
A bobcat wouldn’t be so heavy as to snap a twig. A bear, then. He closed his eyes, listened for the heavy whuffing of a bear’s breaths. Only silence greeted him.
Maybe James had dreamed—
Snap.
The sound came from the hillside above. Above and to the east. Somebody was there. Moving.
Silently, James climbed out of his sleeping bag and put on his hiking boots. He grabbed his pistol, disengaged the safety, and got to his feet, staying low.
Scanning the forest in every direction, he listened.
He stood there five minutes, ten. Not moving, allowing the moonlight and shadows to define the forms around him. He wouldn’t leave this spot unless he was sure where he was going and what he was looking for. He wouldn’t leave Cassidy exposed.
If he were a stalker, where would he hide? Their campsite was on a flat bit of ground on an otherwise steep slope. Below, trees and brush and nothing else. Above, the hill was rocky. Behind them, the stream was close enough that, before the wind had picked up, he’d been able to hear the trickling water. Ahead of them, all he could see was forest. Who knew what else was out there?
Slowly, slowly he gazed at trunk after trunk, searching for a hidden form. Movement. The reflection of metal. Something.
He saw nothing, and the longer he looked, the more the shadows tried to trick him.
It was too dark to see if there were any indentations on the forest floor where a person could hide.
He watched a long time, but nothing moved.
“What is it?” Cassidy’s whisper came from inside the tent. “James?”
“Yeah. Sorry. It’s nothing.”
The sound of the zipper warned him she was coming.
“Stay in the tent.”
“Because of nothing?”
“Probably nothing. Just stay down.”
The zipper moved again. He glanced and saw it was opening, not closing.
“Cassidy. Please.”
“Either you get in or I’m getting out.”
Exasperating woman.
She crawled out beside him. Her hair was pulled up in a messy ponytail. She held her handgun pointed at the ground. “What happened?”
“I thought I heard something.”
“From what direction?”
He nodded toward the hillside and, together, they peered into the darkness.
“What should we do?” Terror laced her words. “Should we leave?”
It was too dark, the hill too steep. To hike an unknown trail—not even a trail—in the dark would be dangerous. One wrong move could prove fatal.
They were better off staying put, though the longer he stood there, the more exposed he felt.
“Get in,” he said.
“But what if he comes?”
“We’re both armed. If he comes, we’ll protect ourselves.”
She crawled inside. He snatched his sleeping bag and followed. The tent was just wide enough for two people to lie side by side.
She scrabbled into her sleeping bag, and he did the same, only then registering the chill of the night.
“Tell me what happened.” Her whisper was low.
“It was probably nothing.”
“Is that what you really think?”
He didn’t know what to believe. “If someone wanted to hurt us, we just gave him a very good opportunity.”
It was too dark to see anything in the tent, so he stared up at the cloth above their heads.
Chirping crickets. A bullfrog’s croak. The hoot of an owl.
Something slithered over dry pine needles.
“All day,” she whispered, “I felt like we were being followed.”
He should probably say something to make her feel better, but how would that help? “Yeah. I’d hoped I was imagining it.”
“Someone’s watching us.”
He wished he could take the fear out of her voice.
Moonlight shone on the treetops and sent shadows creeping across the tent.
“Let’s just… start the day,” she whispered.
The glowing hands on his watch told him it was three-thirty. “Sun won’t rise for an hour and a half.”
“But we can’t just lie here. And we can’t go back to sleep.”
“I know.”
“Who do you think it is? You think it’s—”
“Shh.” He lowered his voice until it was so low, he wondered if she could even hear it. “Let’s not talk about it. Let’s not talk about anything related to… all this. In case he’s listening.”
Her shudder was perceptible despite the thick sleeping bags between them.
He faced her, propping his head on his hand. “You live in a city or a suburb?”
“I can’t make small talk when—”
“Just… try, Cassy. Let’s just not think about it.”
She turned his direction. “City.”
“Expensive city, or—?”
“Pretty expensive, but…”
When she said nothing else, he asked, “But what?”
“Are we really going to lie here and chitchat like we’ve just met for coffee?”
“What else is there to do?” As soon as the words were out, his mind conjured a few images. Cassidy in his arms. Cassidy’s lips against his.
He’d spent a decade trying not to think about this woman, and now she was lying beside him in the dark. But they weren’t alone.
She fell onto her back and stared up. “There was a home for runaways in this city, a pretty good home. At eighteen, I was considered an adult. But I had to change my name anyway, so why not fudge my age? I told people I’d just turned seventeen. That bought me almost a year to build a new identity.”
“How did you do that? Was it hard?”
“It’s simpler if you’re a minor. Nobody expects a minor to have a photo ID. All I needed was a birth certificate and a social security number. It took me months to earn enough money to buy those. When I did—”
“Wait. How did you work without a social security number?”
“There are lot of places that don’t look too closely. How do you think illegals do it?”
He’d never thought about it.
“Anyway, I saved enough money, bought myself a forged birth certificate and a social security card with my new name on it. Then, when my fake birth certificate showed I’d turned eighteen, I got a driver’s license. That was all the ID I needed to build a new life.”
“Smart.”
“Still, it was hard. People with families don’t understand the challenges for those without. Did you know that twenty percent of kids who age out of foster care become instantly homeless? Twenty-five percent suffer PTSD. Sixty percent of men will be convicted of a crime, and seventy percent of women will get pregnant before age twenty-one.”
“You do public speaking or something? That sounded rehearsed.”
Her chuckle was low. “I guess it was. We’re always looking for donors.”
“But you managed to thrive.”
“I got lucky. I repeated my senior year and graduated from the local high school with my new name. The home where I lived… The people were good to me. They have this program for adults who need a leg up, former runaways and foster kids who are trying hard to support themselves and stay out of trouble. Very few of the people they help get in, but I did. God’s grace. I lived there while I went to college. They helped me with the tuition. They… they saved my life.”
“It’s why you do what you do.”
“Yeah. And I’m good at it. I’m good at connecting with kids who are afraid to connect.”
He couldn’t imagine the goth girl with the high walls pouring her heart into at-risk girls. The Cassidy he’d known and loved in high school had been closed off and afraid, at least at school. When she was at his home, with his family, she opened up and let him see the girl beneath the mask. So unlike the teenage version, this woman was open and fearless.
“You’ve changed so much.”
“Also God’s grace,” she said. “He taught me to hope for better. Taught me that, if my hope was in Him and Him alone, I would never be disappointed.”
Sounded both faithful and cynical.
“You’ve stayed in that same city all this time?”
“Yeah. I’d love to move farther out where the rent isn’t so high, but cars are expensive. People without cars have very little choice but to stay in the city.”
“You have a car now, though.”
“It’s rented through one of those online car sharing services—like that Air B and B but for cars. On the off chance somebody runs the plates, they’ll lead back to a guy who doesn’t have my real name. Or… my real fake name, anyway. Seemed safer than going with Hertz.”
“So,” he said, going for casual, “back in this nameless city, is there someone who would mind you and me sharing a tent?”
“Like, a husband?”
“Or a boyfriend?”
“No.”
That surprised him. Cassidy had always latched onto people, never felt comfortable alone. “Was there, ever?”
“Besides you?”
He rolled onto his back. He shouldn’t have started down this road.
“I’ve made some mistakes in that department,” she said. “Since then, I’ve learned to be alone, to be content in—”
Something slapped against the tent, and she gasped.
He sat up and grabbed his gun, looking for the silhouette of a man. A bear. Something. All he saw was a dark spot on one side of the tent fabric about the size of two hands, spread wide.
She sat up beside him. They both watched.
The wind whipped, and the dark spot lifted, blew away.
“A leaf?” she whispered.
“A twig, I think, with a few leaves attached.”
She lay back down, and he did the same, though now his heart was racing.
They’d almost done it. Almost gotten their minds off the danger outside the tent. But, distraction or no, the danger hadn’t gone away.