Every Step She Takes (Who's Watching Now Book 2) Read online

  A hand touched his arm. “What’s wrong?”

  Grace’s green eyes were clouded with concern as her gaze met his.

  “Was I frowning?”

  “You looked the way I feel when I’m trying to figure out one of those brain teaser puzzles. Usually I end up swearing and throwing it across the room.”

  He sighed. “I was just weighing our options. That stretch of open meadow worries me. It makes sense to assume the man who followed us from the lodge is patrolling in this area, waiting for us to show. It’s what I’d do in his position.”

  “Those options you mentioned, what are they?”

  “Run like hell and hope he’s otherwise occupied or wait until dark and then run like hell. Either way, we dump our packs first. I’d rather risk hunger and exposure than the extra time it’ll take to run over two miles with all this weight.”

  Sutton straightened his hunched shoulders and stopped. “I’ve got stuff in my pack I don’t want to lose.”

  “Someone can collect our gear after I have you secured in a safe place. Is anything in your pack worth doubling your odds against survival?”

  “I suppose not.” He scratched a mosquito bite on the side of his neck. “What are those odds—or don’t I want to know?”

  “In the daylight, less than fifty percent. With darkness, maybe sixty-forty in our favor, but we risk a sprained ankle or worse and will definitely lose several hours of travel time.”

  Grace touched his arm. “Why do we have to cross the meadow at all? Why can’t we go a different way?”

  “There’s a steep ravine just through the trees to our right.” His arm swept out. “And a mountain to our left. We don’t have the equipment we’d need to climb it.”

  Sutton’s chest rose and fell on an exhale. “Sounds like I’m going to die no matter what we do.”

  Grace cast him a scornful look. “Don’t be a whiner. Since we don’t have much choice, my vote is for resting and eating now then running later. We can travel in the dark. Without sleeping bags and food, there isn’t much point in stopping for the night.”

  “That’s the way I’m leaning.” Travis couldn’t resist touching her cheek with a soft stroke of his thumb. “You’ve got more guts than anyone I know.”

  She stepped back and fisted her hands on her hips. “Dying in Alaska isn’t an option, not before I write my story anyway. Do you know what pisses me off the most?”

  He crossed his arms over his chest and had to smile. “Do share.”

  “Not knowing who the hit man is, though I’m not counting out Alma. The way that woman orders her sister around like the worst sort of drill sergeant makes me believe she’s fully capable of whacking informants as a side business. She’s a hell of a lot tougher than the frat boy or the fisherman. I can see Russo burying his competition in a business deal but not chasing a hippy wannabe through the Alaskan wilderness.”

  “Hey!”

  Travis’s grin grew wider. “People can surprise you.”

  “I suppose.” She shrugged one shoulder. “Still, I’m a hundred percent certain I can outrun any of them.”

  “Yeah, but can you outrun a bullet?”

  Grace narrowed her eyes on Sutton. “Are you always this pessimistic?”

  “Are you always such a bad ass?”

  Her teeth gleamed. “You bet.”

  Travis grunted. “The last thing I need is the two of you getting into an argument. Let’s move. We still have a ways to go before we reach the meadow.”

  As the afternoon stretched, he couldn’t stop thinking about the woman walking by his side. The tough veneer was a lot thinner than she’d like anyone to believe. Beneath it was softness and vulnerability. He’d guess she’d been hurt in the past—badly—and the tough attitude was nothing more than a protective layer. Getting to know the real Grace would be a lengthy project, one he wished he had the time to tackle. A week of vacation wouldn’t begin to unravel her secrets.

  Still, he could try.

  “You said you were a sophomore the year you came in second. Did you take the gold as a junior?”

  She glanced at him sharply then looked away. “I quit track after that.”

  “Why? You were obviously good.”

  Giving a pinecone a swift, hard kick, she stuck her hands in the pockets of her shorts. “I lost interest.”

  “Because you didn’t win the race?”

  “No, because—it doesn’t matter. My circle of friends changed. I wish I could say I focused on school, but I didn’t.” Her smile held a bitter edge. “Good thing I was smart. I still got into a top college where I studied journalism. I like to have all the facts before anyone else.” She let out a breath. “What about you? What did you study in school?”

  She’d neatly twisted away from any personal revelations. He wanted to press her, but one look at her tight lips and guarded eyes stopped him. “Accounting.”

  The tension in her face dissolved, and a teasing smile peeked out. “You wanted to be a bean counter?”

  “I wanted to major in medieval history then set off on a quest for the Holy Grail.” He grinned back. “Dad convinced me my impractical dreams weren’t going to pay the bills, although the words he used were a little stronger.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “Accounting bored me into a near coma, so I quit school after two years and went looking for a different type of adventure. Lucky for me I survived the BUD/S training program and became a SEAL. Eventually I finished my degree, taking night courses.”

  “Accounting?”

  “Business. By that point, I knew I wanted to be my own boss.”

  “So you started a P.I. company after you got out of the service?”

  He nodded then glanced at Sutton. “Care to share your academic history?”

  “English major with a Spanish minor and not much in the way of employment.” He lifted one shoulder. “What can I say, my grandfather was stinking rich. I’m not afraid to admit I have a fat trust fund. Too bad it couldn’t buy my way out of my current problems.”

  “I imagine having money will make life easier once you’ve relocated.”

  His scraggly moustache fluttered with an exhaled breath. “If I make it out of here alive.”

  The conversation lagged as they drew closer to the meadow. When a gurgle of water caught his attention, Travis left the trail, following Wylie. An underground spring bubbled up behind a rock crevice, forming a small pool before trickling away.

  “We’ll stop here to eat, drink and maybe get a little sleep. The water should be icy cold and uncontaminated.”

  Grace dropped her pack with its customary thump. Kneeling beside the spring and pushing the dog to the side, she scooped up handfuls of water to splash her face before drinking. With a sigh, she moved away. “Nectar of the gods. I wouldn’t trade that for the best champagne.”

  “If our pessimistic friend is right, we may as well celebrate our last meal in style.” Travis’s gaze swung toward a rustle in the underbrush, tensed muscles relaxing when a squirrel scampered up a tree.

  Sutton grunted as he lowered his pack. “Can I help it if I’m a realist?”

  Grace lay back on a bed of fir needles and closed her eyes. “Learn to enjoy the time you have, Casey. You never know when it’ll be cut short. A sniper’s bullet isn’t the only thing that can kill you.”

  “I suppose that’s true.” He turned away to rummage in his pack before pulling out two freeze-dried meals. Sausage gumbo or steak and veggie stir-fry?”

  Grace didn’t bother to open her eyes. “If it’s our last meal, steak, by all means. Maybe Wylie would like the gumbo. What do we have left to add to the feast, Travis?”

  With dark lashes feathered across her cheeks, there was a vulnerability about her that tore at his heart. With an effort, he looked away and searched through their packs. “We have Chinese chicken delight and pork tenderloin sauté.”

  “Both sound good to me since I’m starving. You choose.”

  “We�
�ll share.”

  Eyes opening, she pushed up on one elbow. “Fair enough. Tell me what I can do to help.”

  “Nothing. Just rest. I want you both ready to run faster than you ever have. The moon is damn near full, and it’s coming up about a half hour after sunset, so that doesn’t give us much time. It’ll be a sprint to the woods on the other side of the meadow.”

  Sutton dumped the packet of food into a pan and looked up. “You really think there’s a man with a rifle out there waiting—”

  “Bet on it.”

  Travis lit the stove and cooked their dinner. It actually didn’t smell half-bad. When Wylie sidled over and sat down next to his feet, he pulled out a second packet of chicken and added it to the pot. Might as well let the dog eat it instead of the local wild life.

  “Dinner’s ready.”

  No one said much while they ate, and though Grace had mentioned being hungry, she picked at her food. Travis suspected she was more worried about the night ahead than she let on. He sure as hell was dreading it.

  After the meal, Grace carried the dirty dishes over to the spring to wash. When she returned, she glanced at her pack and frowned. “We’re really leaving everything here?”

  He finished dismantling the tiny stove and nodded. “Make sure all the food is out of your backpack. We’ll hang what we don’t eat, but eventually the raccoons will find a way to get into it. If the packs don’t contain anything but clothing, the animals shouldn’t rip them up, but I’m not counting on it. Wear light layers that’ll keep you warm but won’t restrict your movements.” He shot a glance toward Sutton. “Dark colors only. No tie-dyed or fluorescent shirts.”

  The man scowled. “I’m not an idiot.”

  When Grace turned away, he touched her arm. “Make sure to stick a couple of power bars in your pocket for tomorrow morning. You’ll need to refuel.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “If I never see another nut and oat bar again, it’ll be too soon.”

  “I’m getting sick of them, too, but they’re easy to carry and chock-full of carbs.”

  “You’re right.” Kneeling beside her pack, she pulled out a synthetic jersey, a pair of black nylon running pants and a light jacket. After setting a couple of snack bars and her room key on the pile, she unzipped the front pocket of the pack and placed her mini recorder and notebook next to them. “I’ll change over there.” She jerked her thumb toward the bushes.”

  His brows lowered. “I hope you aren’t thinking of taking that damned recorder.”

  “Of course I’m taking it. It isn’t much bigger than a cell phone, and I don’t have one of those to carry since I left mine in my room. Not much point in bringing it without reception.”

  “And the notebook?” His voice rose.

  She crossed her arms and scowled. “You bet. It won’t slow me down.”

  “Jesus, Grace, I can’t believe—”

  “Believe it. Casey’s story is the reason I came out here. I’ll damn well take it back with me or die trying.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  She snorted. “Nice comeback, but I’m not giving in on this. I bet you’re bringing your Glock, and it’s a heck of a lot heavier than my dinky notebook.”

  He rose slowly, gaze narrowed. Had he misjudged her? Was she more than the reporter she claimed to be? “What do you know about my weapon?”

  “Nolan, the detective I used to date, carried one.” She scooped up her clothes and gave him an eye roll. “Relax, Travis, I’m not some kind of double agent.” Without a backward glance, she disappeared into the bushes.

  The tension drained out of his shoulders. There was no question he needed to relax. If he weren’t so terrified they wouldn’t make it back to the lodge alive… He shuddered. Should something happen to Grace, he’d never be able to live with himself.

  With shaking hands, he collected the remaining food and swung the half-full bag over a stout tree limb. After piling the camping equipment together, he changed his shirt for a warmer one, pausing in mid-motion as Grace returned. Her hair was pulled back in a single braid, and she wore the slim-fitting clothes with the beauty and sleek symmetry of a jaguar. He prayed she’d run like one.

  Dragging his gaze away, he glanced toward Sutton. “If you’re ready, I suggest you get some rest. It’ll be dark in another hour. In the meantime, I’m going to have a look around.”

  “I’ll try, but I’m too wired to sleep.”

  “Relax and make sure you’re hydrated, but don’t overdo it.” Travis stuck a couple of power bars, the water purifier and an empty bottle in a fanny pack to take. Even with the extra weight, he could easily outdistance the others. If—when—they made it out, they’d need clean water. Going without food was one thing. Hiking with nothing to drink wasn’t an option. His hand hovered over the first aid kit, and with a shrug, he added it to the collection. If they needed medical attention, chances were a gauze patch and some ointment wouldn’t help much, but he’d take them anyway. After checking the safety on his weapon, he tucked it into the holster in his pants, pocketed a pair of binoculars then turned to leave.

  “Travis.”

  He glanced over at Grace. Lines of strain bracketed her mouth, and her eyes were shadowed. His chest tightened, and he wanted nothing more than to kiss the worry off her face. Instead, he offered an encouraging look.

  “We’re going to get out of here. I promise.”

  She nodded once. “Be careful, okay.”

  “Always. I’ll be back in thirty minutes. Rest.”

  With a second nod, she sat down next to Wylie. One arm hugged the dog to her side, and he could feel her gaze following him as he slipped into the trees.

  Darkness blurred trees and bushes when he returned to camp a half-hour later. There’d been no sign of their pursuer on this side of the meadow. No indication anyone had been in the area since he and Grace arrived. He’d sat perfectly still just inside the edge of the forest, scanning the woods on the far side of the meadow with the binoculars. Not one shadow moved. Not a single bird squawked in annoyance at an unwanted intruder. Either no one was there, or the guy had the patience of a cat sitting at a mouse hole.

  On that encouraging thought, he entered their makeshift camp. He’d wait another half-hour, until the last hint of daylight had faded from the sky, then move. Sutton appeared to be asleep over near the spring. Only Wylie raised his head as he crossed to Grace’s side and dropped onto the ground. Leaning back against the bole of a spruce, he closed his eyes.

  “Anything?”

  His lids snapped up. “No, I thought you were asleep.”

  “Too tense.” She stretched on the sleeping pad she’d rolled out and propped herself up on one elbow. “When do we leave?”

  “Not long, just as soon as it’s fully dark.”

  She patted the spot next to her, and he moved over to lie beside her. Wrapping her in his arms, he tucked her head beneath his chin. Slow, even breathing pressed her breasts against his chest, but he wasn’t tempted to start something. Not much, anyway. Just holding her close was enough.

  “I want you to know last night meant more to me than a quick tumble in the sack.” Her breath hitched. “We haven’t known each other very long, but I really do care.” She let out a long sigh. “A lot.”

  He kissed the crown of her head, soft hair caressing his lips. Warmth filled him. “I care, too. Once this is over, we’ll work something out to see each other.” His arms tightened. “If you want to.”

  “I do, but I’m a realist. San Francisco is a long way from Seattle, and we both have demanding careers. Maybe we’ll try for a while, but then one month will become two. You’ll meet someone else, or I will. Guilt will eat at us, but we’ll shrug it off. Life will pull us in opposite directions, and all that’ll be left is a memory.”

  He didn’t respond as an ache settled in his chest. He didn’t want to lose Grace, didn’t want to watch her walk away without even trying.

  “It doesn’t have to be like that.”<
br />
  “Chances are it will be.” She reached up to stroke his cheek. “I don’t want to be the girl sitting by a phone that doesn’t ring. I don’t like getting my heart broken.”

  “More likely, it’ll be the other way around.” Framing her face in his hands, he kissed her. “Can we at least try? If it doesn’t work, we’ll give it up.”

  She pressed her lips to his throat. “My track record with men sucks. I want to be upfront about that. I don’t imagine a long distance relationship will improve the odds of success.”

  “My life has always been about taking risks. I’m willing to embrace this one.”

  She touched his hair, her fingers lingering at the back of his neck. “Why?”

  “Because you’re worth it.”

  Chapter 11

  Adrenaline rushed through Grace in a raging torrent as she ran flat out, headed toward the dark blur in the distance that marked the edge of the meadow. Her mind emptied of everything but putting one foot in front of the other, focusing on her breathing, arms swinging in an efficient rhythm. Wylie trotted close, never veering from her side. Vaguely, she was aware of Sutton behind her, gasping for air. After the first mile, he’d dropped back some, and Travis slowed to run with him. They didn’t dare talk; the risk of sound carrying in the night was far too great, but she knew his mere presence would encourage the other man to keep up the excruciating pace. God knew she was willing to do just about anything for one of Travis’s smiles. Except leave the recorder behind. It was tucked in her zippered jacket pocket beside the notebook, slapping against her side with each step. The key to her future success.

  The dark blur of trees grew closer, maybe a quarter mile away. She blinked when a pinpoint of light appeared, a tiny red beam in the near blackness.

  “Get down!”

  Travis’s shout echoed a split second before the crack of a rifle. Grace dropped and rolled, heard a muffled groan. Heart pounding so hard she was sure it would burst, she flattened to the ground, one arm clamped around Wylie.

  “Travis?”