Faith stood in the knee-deep swirling waters at the top of the waterfall, just feet from the edge, her wrists zip-tied in front of her. Four feet away, the cold dead eyes of a sociopath stared back at her, one hand holding the Taser, the other a wicked-looking knife with a six-inch blade that was already stained with her blood. It was as if he was trying to come to a decision—Taser her yet again or gut her. Or maybe he was going to toss her over the falls and let the rocks and water do their worst.
She couldn’t resist taking a quick glance at the edge. It was a twenty-foot drop, maybe more. If she did go over, and managed not to crush her skull or drown, she’d probably be swept to the second tier of the falls and go over again. The pool of water at the very bottom was much deeper than up here. It was where the tourist had drowned a few weeks ago. And that tourist’s hands hadn’t been tied. If she ended up down there, it was lights out.
Asher was right. She should have learned to swim a long time ago. Although how she could do that with her hands tied was beyond her, even if she knew how.
Asher. Daphne. The two most important people in her life. Just thinking about them had her tearing up. They would take her death hard, assuming Daphne was even okay. This lowlife had refused to answer her questions about her sister. She’d begged him to tell her if he’d left her alive in the basement. His only response was a cruel smile that chilled her more than the water swirling around her legs.
It took all her strength to remain standing as the current pushed her ever closer to the edge. Her teeth chattered, the water brutally cold this high in the mountains. But Fake Stan, the killer she and Asher had been trying to find for months, seemed immune to it as he continued to watch her.
“What do you want from me?” she demanded, not for the first time.
And just as before, he said nothing. He simply kept staring at her with those dead eyes, making her want to vomit.
At least she had one thing to be thankful for. The gashes in her legs from the Taser barbs he’d yanked out no longer hurt. The freezing water had mercifully dulled that pain. Too bad it wasn’t high enough to take away the throbbing aches in her back and stomach. The slices he’d made weren’t deep enough to kill. But they hurt like hell.
She risked another quick look past the falls to the thick trees lining the steep path below that she’d been forced to climb. Beyond that, around several curves in that path, was a parking lot. But no one had been there when he’d driven into it. No sirens sounded in the distance. No police or friends from Unfinished Business were rushing up the mountain to rescue her. She was going to die, unless she could think of something else to try.
Like somehow freeing her hands so she could put up some kind of defense. The only way she could think of to free them was to cut the zip-ties. To do that, she needed a knife. He was the only one with a knife. Kicking it out of his hands was one option to try. But she’d likely be swept over the falls trying to get the knife. Either way, the end result was death.
As if finally making up his mind about how he was going to kill her, he holstered the Taser. Then he slowly started toward her, fighting the current, his knife firmly in his right hand.
“Wait,” she called out, forced to scoot her feet closer to the slippery edge to keep some space between them. “My sister, please. Tell me if she’s okay. You used her as bait, didn’t seriously hurt her. Right? Please tell me. I have to know.”
He cocked his head like a bird looking at a worm right before it bit its head off.
“The knife usually scares them,” he said. “They scream by now, try to run, get swept over the falls. Why aren’t you screaming?”
Oh, God. This was how he’d killed all his victims? Forcing them over the falls? Revulsion and dread made her stomach churn.
“Will screaming make a difference in what you do to me?”
A cold smile curved his lips, sending a shiver through her soul. “It never has before.” He raised the knife again.
She held up her hands. “Wait.”
He lunged forward, the knife high over his head.
She fell backward into the water, desperately scrabbling away, searching for something to hold on to so she wouldn’t get swept over the waterfall.
He yelled with rage, leaping at her just as the crack of a gunshot filled the air. Faith screamed and scrambled out of his way as he landed with a splash. He immediately pushed up on his knees, knife raised again.
“Faith! Move out of the way!”
She whirled around, astonished to see Asher running out of the woods toward them, gun raised.
“Faith, behind you!”
She twisted to the side, the killer’s arms narrowly missing her as he fell into the water. She scrabbled away, desperately fighting the relentless current as it pushed her toward the edge. But the rocks beneath the surface were slippery and her bound hands so numb she couldn’t grip them.
“Faith!”
Another gunshot sounded as she screamed and hurtled over the falls.
ASHER WATCHED IN horror as Faith fell over the waterfall. He splashed through the water to the edge. A guttural roar had him whirling around, gun raised. But the killer was on him before he could fire. They both fell back under the water, jarring the gun loose. The glint of the knife below the surface came slashing at him. Asher grabbed the other man’s wrist, yanking hard.
Bubbles blew out of his attacker’s mouth as he yelled underwater, the knife coming loose. He kicked at Asher, breaking his hold. They both surfaced, gasping for breath and climbing to their feet. But when the killer ran toward him, Asher ran for the edge of the falls. Faith was down there somewhere, in the water. And she couldn’t swim.
He leaped out over the rushing water and fell to the pool below. He landed hard on the bottom then pushed to standing. It was only waist-deep. And there was no sign of Faith here. She must have gone over the second waterfall to the much deeper pond at the bottom.
Running as fast as he could toward the edge, he leaped again just as a splash sounded behind him. He fell to the deep pool below then quickly kicked to the surface.
“Faith!” he yelled. “Faith!”
He twisted and turned, desperately searching for her, hoping to find her on the edge of the pool. Nothing. No sign of her anywhere. He tried to take a deep breath, but his hurt lung had him gasping in pain. Swearing, he drew a more shallow breath and dove straight down. He pulled himself through the water as quickly as he could, both dreading and hoping to find her. His lungs screamed for air, forcing him to surface. He dragged in several shallow, quick breaths, then dove again.
There, on the far side. A shadow on the bottom. He kicked his feet, using the last of his air, refusing to surface no matter how much his lungs burned as he raced underwater. As he reached the dark shadow he’d seen, long tendrils of golden-brown hair floated out toward him. Faith.
He scooped her up and kicked for the surface.
Something slammed into his back. Fiery lava exploded through his veins. But he didn’t stop. He kept hold of his precious burden and climbed to the surface. He breached into the air and whirled onto his back, pulling Faith into the crook of his arm, face up. As he kicked with his legs for the shore, he breathed air into her lungs over and over. Kick, breathe, kick, breathe.
He was almost there when a hand grabbed his leg and yanked him under the surface. He kicked out violently, smashing his foot against the other man’s face. It broke his hold and Asher again surfaced, half dragging and half throwing Faith out of the water. She landed on her side, still unresponsive.
The water rippled around him, his only warning. He dove back under, grabbing the killer from behind, his arm around his throat. Asher yanked his forearm back in a swift lethal movement, crushing the man’s windpipe. He went slack and Asher shoved him away and kicked for the surface again.
He crawled out of the water, feeling oddly light-headed and short of breath. Sirens sounded in the distance. Help was finally on its way. But was it too late? He reached Faith’s side and rolled her onto her back; her beautiful face so pale and white, his stomach sank. He gave her three quick breaths, watching her chest rise and fall. Then he began chest compressions.
“One, two, three...” He kept counting, thirty chest compressions for every two breaths, as he’d been trained so long ago. Over and over, he pumped her heart, swearing at her, swearing at him, swearing at the man who’d done this to her, all the while pumping, pumping, breathing, pumping.
“Come on, Faith. Don’t leave me. Breathe.”
“Asher, Asher, move. Let them help her.”
He blinked and realized he wasn’t alone anymore. Lance and Grayson were both pulling at him as two EMTs jumped in to take over.
“She drowned,” he told them. “She’s got water in her lungs. I can’t get her heart going. Please, you have to help her.”
Grayson and Lance dragged him back as more first responders came to Faith’s aid.
Asher desperately jerked sideways, looking back, but he couldn’t see her anymore. There were half a dozen people surrounding her on the ground. “Let me go. I need to see her.” He twisted and fought against their hold.
“Stop fighting us,” Grayson ordered. “Let the medics help her. Where’s Strom?”
Asher frowned, still twisting and trying to see Faith. “Who the hell is Strom?”
“Malachi Strom,” Lance told him. “Fake Stan. Where is he?”
“Fish food.” Asher motioned to the pond. “I crushed his windpipe. Do they have her heart going? Is she breathing?”
“They’re working on her,” Grayson said. “Stop moving for one damn minute. Is this Faith’s blood? Strom’s?”
Asher jerked his head back toward Grayson. “Faith’s bleeding? I didn’t notice any cuts. But I was focused on trying to stop the killer.”
“I have no idea.” Grayson glanced at Lance. “I think this is Asher’s blood.”
“The rocks,” Asher said. “Probably cut myself on the rocks. Is she breathing? Let me see her.” He coughed, struggling to catch his breath. “My lung’s giving me fits.” He coughed again, everything around him turning a dull gray.
“Medic!” Grayson yelled. “We need help over here. This man’s been stabbed.”
Lance swore. “You have the worst luck with knife-wielding homicidal maniacs. We need an EMT over here! Hurry!”
“No, no, no. They need to help Faith.” Asher heard himself slurring the words. But he couldn’t see anything anymore. “Faith. Have to save...save her.” Everything went dark.