Idaho. Home. Mountain Country K-9 Task Force member Selena Smith gripped the steering wheel, took a deep breath and sighed. The blessing of coming home to Sagebrush and seeing the snowy peaks of the ski resorts was tinged with a sense of melancholy. It was here she had grown up, become a sheriff’s deputy, learned to partner with her Malinois K-9, Scout, and built a good life. It was also here that she had fallen in love with the man who broke her heart, had lost her only sister to the aftermath of drug abuse and had buried both their parents.
And now? Here she was escorting the van that held the very man she’d loved, Finn Donovan, from a court appearance. His legal team was officially requesting a retrial, and then he’d go back to prison, where he was serving a sentence for murder.
A gray sky mirrored her mood as she followed the van in her MCK9 SUV. She’d done her best to avoid this assignment, yet unforeseen circumstances had conspired against her. So had her former boss.
“I’m sorry,” Sheriff Unger had told her that morning. “I wouldn’t ask if we weren’t so shorthanded. There were bomb threats at all three Bearton County ski resorts, and I had to split my force. I don’t have anybody else to drive escort.”
He’d explained that it wouldn’t take more than a couple hours, which suited Selena because she wasn’t back in Idaho to work her old job. She was here to find a missing K-9...and to catch a serial killer.
The Rocky Mountain Killer had shot three young men in Elk Valley, Wyoming, ten years ago on Valentine’s Day. And a couple months ago, also on Valentine’s Day, he’d murdered two more. All the victims were former members of the Elk Valley Young Rancher’s Club. All had been shot at close range in a barn, and slugs with the same markings were found at the crime scenes, tying the deaths together. The killer was back. And Selena intended to find him with help from other members of the Mountain Country K-9 Task Force, which included law enforcement officers from across Rocky Mountain states.
“I spoke with the FBI agent in charge of your team... Chase Rawlston? He gave permission,” her old boss had explained earlier. “You already interviewed the witness who spotted the missing dog, so you have nothing pressing, right?” Her heart had twinged at the mention of the missing dog, a Labradoodle named Cowgirl. She’d been gifted to the task force as a compassion K-9 but had since been stolen. It was a sighting of the missing pup that had brought Selena back to Sagebrush. A witness had seen the dog, who had a telltale dark splotch on her ear, and Selena had been sent to her hometown to investigate. Cowgirl had been dognapped from Elk Valley, Wyoming, but had been seen in Idaho. That was a long way. Maybe another Labradoodle had the same splotch. But the description was a perfect match.
All that should’ve been enough to put her off the sheriff’s latest request. But the biggest shock came when Selena had scanned the form and had frozen on the name of the prisoner being transported. She’d paled. Her hand trembled slightly in spite of her training and expertise. The convict she was escorting was her ex, Finn Donavon.
Despite her best efforts to get out of the assignment, even explaining the conflict of interest, Sheriff Unger wouldn’t budge. He’d handed the orders at her again, saying again that they were short-staffed and there was no one else. And that’s how she’d ended up where she was now, driving along a winding mountain road behind a white prison transport van containing the former love of her life.
Icy rain began to fall. Perfect, Selena thought. The weather was matching her mood swing, from sunny spring to dark and cold and miserable in a matter of a few hours.
It had been tempting to approach the van and get a peek at Finn, to see if time and prison had changed him. His hair would still be sandy brown and his eyes that inviting blue, of course, but they were both older, more mature. Instead of approaching the van, she’d held herself in check. It didn’t matter what Finn looked like or how he acted, he was a convicted killer and totally out of her life.
Except he wasn’t, was he? Something inside her kept insisting that the Finn she’d known and loved could not possibly be that kind of evil person. He’d had a difficult past, yes, and had surprised everyone by claiming that a wealthy local rancher, Zeb Yablonski, was his father, but why would he kill the man? Granted, there had been witnesses to an argument he’d had with Zeb, but a lot of people argued without poisoning or shooting each other. A man like Finn—a tenderhearted, gentle giant like Finn—wouldn’t have done that.
And yet, a jury had convicted him. Was it because those twelve men and women remembered the kind of wild youth he’d been before his Christian conversion? Selena knew that many residents had doubted Finn’s newfound faith, but she’d believed it because she’d seen such a positive change in him. What she never had understood was why he’d broken up with her after she’d entered police training.
Windshield wipers of Selena’s SUV were catching and spreading the rain in a slightly opaque layer, hampering her vision. Thankfully, the prison van ahead was slowing so she could, too. A horn sounded. Headlights of a delivery truck flashed behind her. Most of the time, civilians gave police vehicles a wide berth, so there was a good chance that the driver honking at them didn’t notice the K-9 unit lettering on the back of her SUV and wasn’t aware who he was challenging.
Selena considered giving the truck a signal with her colored lights or bumping the siren, then changed her mind. This road was dangerous enough without scaring some foolishly impatient driver into making an error. He’d just have to wait until they got to a safe place to pass because she and the prison transport were not going to speed up.
Selena reached for her radio and prepared to report the potentially unsafe situation. As she leaned forward, she saw a bright flash in her side mirror. The box truck was passing!
With no discernible shoulder beside the narrow road on her right and nothing but a cliff side rising to her left, Selena had no escape. She tapped her brakes cautiously and trusted the four-wheel drive to keep her vehicle stable.
In a heartbeat, the truck was past her and closing on the van. It was impossible to see far enough ahead on the winding road to tell if there was oncoming traffic. If there was, there was going to be a terrible pileup—with them at the core.
Stoplights on the prison van pulsed. The driver had obviously seen the threat and was preparing to give ground. Trapped by the narrow road, that was all either of them could do.
The box truck suddenly braked, swerving into the side of the van, and for the first time Selena perceived a deliberate threat.
She keyed the mic. “Mountain Country K-9 Task Force. Under possible attack. Reckless driver has just hit the van I’m escorting.” Pausing, she took a breath. “We’re heading west toward Sagebrush, Bearton County Road Seventeen. Exact location unknown.”
“Copy,” the dispatcher said. “License number?”
“I can’t make it out through the rain,” Selena replied. “It’s a white box truck, two axles, duals in the rear, no discernible logo.”
“Copy that. We’ll send a unit ASAP.”
“You have someone available?” She could only hope and pray.
“Negative. I’ll do what I can to shake somebody free. Are you positive it’s an attack?”
“No, I’m...” Her eyes widened. The truck had slowed to match their speed and swung left as far as possible before whipping across the lane and smashing into the van’s left rear corner with its heavy black bumper guard. Taillights splintered. Metal bent and squealed. The chrome bumper of the van bent in and hit the tire, causing it to come off the rim and start to shred.
The van slued sideways, fishtailed for about three seconds, then headed for the berm. It bounced once, twice, and almost righted before leaving the roadway.
“The van! It’s off the highway, rolling down the side of the canyon,” Selena shouted. “I’m pulling over. My unit is blocking traffic but I have no choice. I’ll leave all my lights on and hope for the best.”
Grabbing a handheld radio she peered into the canyon and felt sick. The white van had come to rest several hundred feet down. Parts of it reminded her of a crumpled ball of aluminum foil. “This looks bad. Really bad,” she broadcast.
“Can you see signs of life?”
“Not from here. I’ll have to climb down.”
“We can get you a state chopper. Is the canyon wide enough where you are for a rescue drop?”
“Not sure.” Selena let her Malinois K-9, Scout, out of his kennel and donned a waterproof jacket and hat before assembling more gear. Rain was stopping though drops still splattered her gray uniform pants as she left her car and headed for the wreck.
Boots kept her feet dry and allowed her to move through the brush and around boulders fairly easily, considering the weather conditions and steep canyon walls. Pockets of mud caused her to slip repeatedly while rough rock outcroppings caught and kept her upright.
The prison van lay at the bottom of the ravine. Tumbling end over end had broken every window and beaten it up as if a thousand vandals had attacked with baseball bats. Dirt and vegetation clung to torn metal. A lump of emotion blocked her throat. How could anybody have survived a plunge like that? How could Finn?
Losing him to the justice system had hurt, but nothing like this. This was permanent. Like her parents, like her sister, Angela. If she found the greatest love of her life dead or dying when she reached the wreck, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to function—now or ever again.
There was no time for fancy prayer or even something simple. All Selena could do was cry out to God in her heart and hope that was enough.
Besides wearing a normal seat belt, Finn Donovan was handcuffed to a chain that was fastened to the van. When he’d felt the first hit, he’d grabbed the chain with both hands and held on as tightly as he could. His arms ached, his fingers were bruised and, in spite of the seat restraint, his head had collided with the bars on the windows at least once. Still, he was in pretty good shape, considering how injured and groggy the ride-along guard seemed to be.
It took tremendous effort to reach and unfasten his safety belt. Shaking himself loose, Finn managed to find footing and stand inside the inverted van as he called out to the driver. Not getting an answer was a bad sign. The man in the rear with him, however, moaned.
Although Finn couldn’t touch him because the chains hindered his reach, he did manage to nudge him with the toe of his boot. “Hey, buddy. You okay?”
The guard partially righted himself, then grabbed his own arm. “Nope.”
“Should have been wearing your seat belt. Uncuff me and I’ll help you.”
The guard moaned again. “Nice try. I’m not turnin’ you loose.”
“Somebody needs to check on the driver, and you’re in no shape to crawl around and do it.”
“Shut up and let me think.” Another positional shift brought more groans. “We had an escort. She’ll report this and get us some help.”
“She? Terrific. What we need is a half dozen big guys with pry bars to get us out of this tin can.”
“Yeah, well, I’ll settle for a smart officer with a radio.”
“Guess I will, too.”
Finn hadn’t seen who their official escort was, but as long as she got them help in a timely manner, he wasn’t going to gripe. Much. In view of the strong possibility of a new trial, he was willing to put up with just about anything, including a ride down a mountain side that had felt like being trapped inside a cement mixer.
The van’s engine had quit by the second flip, meaning they were probably not going to spark a fire, although the odor of spilled gasoline was strong. One of the rear doors had sprung partway open during the crash, so the guard could escape if necessary. Finn, however, was chained in place. He decided to at least mention his concerns.
“Look, buddy, I understand you’re just doing your job, but if we catch fire I’ll be burned alive. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”
“I wouldn’t want you to escape, that’s what I wouldn’t want.” The guard clenched his teeth, clearly in pain. “If I smell smoke I’ll unlock the cuffs. Not before.”
“Suppose you pass out? Or worse? There’s no word from our driver, and we don’t know how long it will be before backup gets here.”
“Will you shut up and let me think?”
Finn was chagrinned. “Sorry.” He watched the injured man pale and begin to perspire as he tried to immobilize his broken arm by sticking his hand in the front of his uniform shirt and making a sling with his necktie.
By the time he was done, his sleeve was soaked with blood, and he looked close to passing out. Before Finn had a chance to plead his case again, there was a hard thump against the side of the van. A dog barked. A woman’s voice called, “We lost the driver. How about you in the back?”
If Finn hadn’t been suspended on a chain like a junkyard dog he might have fallen over from shock. Selena? Could it be? The last news he’d heard about her was that she’d left Idaho to work with a murder task force in Wyoming. How could she be here?
Footsteps outside circled in a hail of loose rock that clinked against the bent metal. A face peeked in through the sagging rear doors. It was her. Selena, of all people. “What in the world are you doing here?” Finn asked without censoring his words or his tone. He’d had enough criticism and unearned blame to last him his whole life. He didn’t need more from Selena Smith.
Tendrils of her auburn hair looked almost black in the rain. Water dripped from her hat brim. Her hands were muddy and her hazel eyes squinting to see better. She looked worn and weary and...more beautiful than he remembered.
Her first priority was the injured guard, which Finn understood. At least she took the time to look him up and down and ask, “You all right?”
“I’ll live, as long as this hunk of junk doesn’t catch fire and roast me.” Pausing, he waited for her to react. She helped the guard sit up, then fished in his shirt pocket and held up a key. “This one?”
“Yeah,” he was nodding, “but you shouldn’t let a prisoner loose. ’Specially not a convicted murderer.”
She straightened. Lifted her chin. Stared at Finn. “Promise me you won’t try to escape?”
“Promise.”
The guard made a sound of disgust. Selena smiled at him. “Mr. Donovan and I go way back. If he says he won’t try to escape, I believe him.”
“You believe in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny, too, I s’pose.”
“Not anymore. Finn may have made mistakes in the past, but he’s right about the possible danger. Smell the gas? I need his help to get you moved, so I’m going to release him. It’s that or take the chance you’ll both go up in flames.” Finn saw a familiar arch of her brow. “You don’t want that, do you?”
“No.”
Because the floor of the van was now the ceiling, Selena had to stand on tiptoe to reach the handcuffs and unlock them. Finn froze. He hadn’t imagined for a second that being this close to her again was going to make his gut clench and upset his equilibrium, but it did. Fortunately, three years in prison had strengthened his nerves and hardened his heart, so he never flinched.
Once he was free, he rubbed his wrists and flexed his shoulder muscles.
“All right?” Selena asked.
“Fine. Tell me what you want me to do.”
Any notion he’d had that she trusted him completely was erased when she pointed at him and ordered her K-9, “Scout, guard.” Apparently, his surprise showed because the injured prison guard managed a wry chuckle.
“Support his shoulder as best you can to protect the break in his arm and bring my first aid gear. It’s in that pack. I’ll support the other side. If he can stand, start for the doors and be careful to not jostle him. I don’t want to make his arm bleed worse.”
“Yes, ma’am.” To Finn’s disgust, he’d sounded sarcastic, and the expression on Selena’s face showed him she’d picked up the clue. Well, too bad. He’d done the right thing in regard to her once, and he wasn’t about to undo all that good by being too nice to her now. After all, she could have argued against the breakup when he’d suggested it. As it had turned out, time had proven him right. If they had still been a couple when he was arrested for the murder of his birth father it could have ruined her career. Rumor ruled in a small town like Sagebrush. People were quick to believe the worst, especially about a former bad boy, and no amount of denial was going to prove him innocent in the eyes of most of the citizens.
It mattered to Finn, though. A lot. He’d been the son of an unwed mother who had eventually married a good man and had a legitimate child, his brother, Sean. The fact that James Donovan had adopted Finn and given him his last name didn’t change history. In Sagebrush, he’d always be the wild son, the one least likely to turn out well.
For a time, he’d hoped Selena would stand up for him, but she was away at the police academy when the crime he was blamed for occurred and had wisely stayed out of the case. He couldn’t blame her. She had an image to preserve, a career to pursue. She’d wanted to uphold the law for as long as he’d known her, but the death of her sister, Angela, from an overdose had apparently clinched her decision. She’d needed to make amends in some way, and being a cop was providing that.
Finn fisted Selena’s heavy go-bag, slipped his other arm around the guard’s waist and supported his torso while Selena ducked beneath the uninjured arm. Clearly, she trusted him, because she’d left their weapons holstered where he could have easily grabbed either of them if he’d wanted to. That was a good sign. A very good sign.
The guard struggled to walk. They managed to get him out of the van and were just rounding the mangled rear door when Finn stepped in a depression in the ground and nearly fell. He momentarily loosened his grip on the guard to catch himself.
A loud bang echoed in the ravine. The guard never made another sound. He simply dropped like a rock. Finn tried to catch him and realized immediately that the man had been shot.
Selena crouched behind the crumpled door, drew her gun and fired up the slope at a shadowy figure on the road. Her target spun around with a sharp cry and disappeared from view.
Checking the guard, Finn realized his wound was fatal. He shook his head in answer to Selena’s silent query. “Sorry. He’s gone.”
She gestured at the road above. “Who was that?”
Finn bristled. “How should I know?”
“Is somebody trying to break you out?”
“Me? You’re blaming me for this mess?”
“Who else?”
Only the possibility of being shot stopped him from standing and waving his hands overhead in protest. Reality about their situation was starting to creep into his consciousness, and he was seeing plenty of other possibilities. If he had not tripped when he did, that bullet could easily have hit him.
“What if they were trying to kill me instead of free me? Huh? Have you thought of that?”
“Who would want to?”
“How should I know? Maybe I made enemies in prison because I was too honest. All I do know is I’m not responsible for this fiasco. Call for backup and let’s get out of here before that shooter comes back with friends.”
“How do you know he’s not doing this on his own?”
Finn wanted to shout in protest. Instead, he calmed himself and looked directly into Selena’s hazel eyes, willing her to see his sincerity and actually trust him.
“One thing is certain. You and I are the only survivors, and we’re sitting ducks down here. Cuff me again if it will make you feel better, then let’s get out of here.”
“Scout, guard,” she ordered her K-9 again as she fisted her radio, got no reply and switched to her cell phone.
“No signal?” Finn asked. His answer was her scowl.
“We’re not going anywhere,” Selena said flatly. Another scan of the road, then, “The shooter is gone and I reported the accident before I left my unit. Now that the storm is passing, they’ll send ground units and probably a chopper. We need to sit tight.”
Finn’s gaze followed hers when she looked toward the highway. Colored lights from the patrol car reflected off the wet ground and cliff, silhouetting two figures appearing at road level. He pointed. Shouted, “Get down!”
The singing whine of a rifle bullet echoed. One of the figures started down the incline toward them.
Finn grabbed Selena and threw himself behind the chassis of the wrecked van. The K-9 lunged for his arm.
Selena yelled a command unintelligible to Finn and the dog backed off.
She fired twice at the approaching figure, then turned to Finn. “Okay. You win. Let’s go.”
Finally. His answer came from the bottom of his heart. “Yes, ma’am.”