Behind the Lies (Montgomery Justice #2)(50)

Zach let out a slow stream of air. How to explain to a five-year-old, when he didn’t understand it himself? He tried for as close to the truth as either one of them could understand. “I was kissing her good-bye, Sam. We’re friends, right? Sometimes you kiss friends good-bye.”

The boy bowed his head. “I guess.”

Zach ruffled Sam’s hair. “It’s all right, but when you’re upset, you need to tell your mom. Don’t let it eat up your insides.”

“Can’t tell. If I’m bad, Daddy hurts Mommy. Then he has to go to time-out until he’s better. It makes me sad.”

Damn it. Zach didn’t know what to say to that one. Jenna would be mortified Sam knew about her husband. How do you explain to a kid who loves his dad that sometimes time-out doesn’t fix everything?

“Let’s get you back to your mom.” Zach cupped his hands. “Jenna, pull Sam up. Slow and steady.”

Inch by inch the rope tightened. The line lifted Sam off the ledge.

“Easy does it,” Zach yelled.

It took several minutes, but soon, Sam hovered near the top. Zach could barely make out his figure any longer. Most of the light had disappeared behind the peaks.

This is where it could get tricky.

Dirt filtered down, hitting Zach in the face. The edge crumbled under the pressure of the rope.

“Sam, see that rock to your right?” Zach shouted. “Can you grab for it?”

The boy reached for the outcrop, but he couldn’t hold on. He swung away.

“Jenna, move to your left. Toward the rock! Sam, you can do this. Grab it.”

Sam reached out his hands and this time clutched it and scrambled over.

“Run to your mom, away from the edge.”

With the flexibility and resilience only a five-year-old could have, Sam disappeared.

“He’s OK!” Jenna yelled, joy pouring from every tone.

Zach bent over, his hands on his knees. He let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. His entire body went slack. The kid was amazing.

A slight movement shifted Zach’s attention. A sliver of remaining sunlight outlined a mountain goat. He stood on the side of the ravine, calm and relaxed, then cocked his head at Zach.

“Show-off,” Zach muttered at the sure-footed animal that scampered across the rocks and disappeared behind a large outcropping and into the night. The animal had the right idea. Zach needed to get off the mountain.

“Untie Sam and throw the rope down,” he called up.

Minutes later the lifeline soared to him, getting caught in the tree that had broken Sam’s fall.

Could nothing be easy?

The rope hung about five feet away. Zach eased to the ledge and reached out his hand. Just a couple of feet too far.

He studied the suspect rock face. Too many opportunities for the surface to crumble away. He glanced up at the tree, grabbed a thin limb, and twisted and tugged until the green wood gave way. After several thrusts, the leaves caught the line and Zach slowly pulled it toward him.

He secured the tubular rappelling device and looked up. He could barely see the side of the mountain. Going by memory, Zach planted his foot against the side and began the climb. His movements careful, he eased up to only a few feet from the top. He squinted, but couldn’t make out his target, consisting of a small island of hard rock surrounded by crumbling sandstone and dirt. Saying a quick prayer, Zach carefully placed his boot.

Rocks poured down like waterfall.

He tightened his grip and shifted his feet to the right.

Wrong choice.

The wall disintegrated beneath his feet.

Zach shoved away from the edge.

Time slowed down.

He couldn’t stop the fall.





* * *





Chapter Ten




* * *





JENNA CRADLED SAM in her arms and stared, unblinking, at the shadowed cliff.

The line leading to the edge suddenly went taut.

She jumped up, her heart racing, the staccato beats thrumming against her chest.

“What’s the matter, Mommy? Where’s the Dark Avenger?”

“I don’t know, baby. Stay there, all right?” Jenna dug into the backpack Zach had thrown next to the pine and pulled out a flashlight. Sweeping the beam across the area, she walked to the line still anchored to the tree. She gave it a small tug. No slack, just scarily taut. “Zach,” she shouted.

“Stay back,” his voice filtered from the crevice. “I’ll be…right up.”

She recognized the strain in his voice. Something wasn’t right. The flashlight caught the line shifting, scraping back and forth against the rock. A rope would have frayed, but Zach’s equipment was clearly high-tech.

Sam hobbled next to her and whimpered. “Where is he?”

She hesitated. “He’s climbing.”

“It’s a long way down.”

An arm reached up and over the rock. Red spots splattered his dusty sleeve. A grunt sounded. The other arm flung up. Muscles strained. Zach heaved himself onto the granite, his chest and waist lying on the stone. He took in a deep breath. A two-inch cut slashed at his temple. Blood trickled down his check.

She started toward him. He lifted his head. “No! Stay away!”

Jenna skidded to a halt, every instinct urging her to go to him, to help him, but she fought the impulse. Sometimes brains had to overcome the heart. Now was one of those times.