Deadly Promises (Tracers #2.5)(73)

She let her gaze scan the area again, without any luck. She glanced at her watch and saw that it was nearly midnight.

Kelsey tipped her head back to look at the stars. It was amazing how many you could see out here. It was something she forgot during the rest of the year, then reminded herself of every summer.

“You hear that?”

She jumped and whirled around. “Omigod, you scared me!”

Gage was a giant shadow right beside her—so close, she now felt his body heat. And yet she hadn’t heard a sound.

“Hear what?” she asked.

“Just listen.”

She listened, but all she heard was the whisper of wind through the scrub brush and the quiet hum of crickets.

“I don’t hear—”

“Shh.”

And then she did hear it, a faint engine noise, growing nearer by the second.

“It’s coming this way.” Gage scaled the side of the creek bed with one big step, then turned and gazed north. The engine noise grew louder.

He dropped back down into the dried creek. “Come on,” he said, taking her arm.

“Where are we going?”

“The mine shaft. It’s this way.” His hand was firm on her arm as he pulled her toward the entrance to the mine, which she couldn’t even see in this darkness.

“Why are we hiding?”

No answer. He helped her out of the creek, practically lifting her off her feet when she missed a step. He was in a hurry.

“Gage?”

“They’re driving blind.”

“Blind?”

“No lights.” He towed her into the even darker shadows of the mine shaft that was carved into the hillside. He seemed to know precisely where he was going without the aid of a flashlight.

She jerked her arm loose and halted. “I still don’t see why—”

“You know any law-abiding citizens who drive around the border zone at night with their lights off? Either they’re up to no good or they’re looking for people up to no good. Either way, I bet they’re armed, and I don’t want to surprise them.” He took her by the elbow and pulled her into the inky darkness of the mine where the air felt cool and damp. “You got your Ruger?” he asked.

“Yes, but—”

“Good. Now stay here.” He reached down and switched on the radio clipped to her belt. “And keep this on. I’ll be right back. Try not to shoot me.”

Then he disappeared.

Kelsey huffed out a breath of annoyance. But she stayed put.

The engine noise drew closer and closer until it was almost on top of them. It sounded like a truck, and it was moving fast. She heard the skid of tires on gravel as it took the bend in the road.

The noise faded and Kelsey waited for Gage to reappear. Something fluttered behind her. Bats? Oh God, she hated bats. Spiders, snakes, bugs, no problems, but bats she could not abide. She closed her eyes and tried to push away the fear. Whatever bats lived here were probably out feeding. She’d probably just heard a bird. She took a deep, calming breath, which didn’t work because she recognized the pungent smell of guano. And then a high-pitched squeak, like fingernails on a blackboard. She squeezed her eyes shut as she imagined millions of bats lurking behind her in the dark.

Her radio squawked to life and she snatched it off her belt. “Where are you?” she demanded.

“I’m almost there. Holster your weapon.”

She’d never unholstered it. “Hurry. I’m starving and I want to get home.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She detected the sarcasm in his voice. Maybe he thought she was a pain in the butt. It was late, and Joe Quinn’s spoiled niece was getting cranky without her dinner.

Kelsey didn’t care what he thought. She just wanted out of this damn mine shaft and away from these bats.

“Hi.”

His warm, low voice brought a wave of relief.

“What was it?” she asked.

“I’m not sure.”

He took her by the arm and led her into the open air again. It felt dry and warm and smelled like mesquite trees instead of bat droppings.

“So you didn’t see it?”

“It was a truck,” he said, releasing her arm. “I saw it and then it disappeared.”

“What do you mean it disappeared?”

“One second it was there. Then a cloud passed in front of the moon and poof, nothing.”

“Poof? You mean like Harry Potter poof or is this some SEAL term I don’t know about?”

“It was just gone,” he said, and she heard the wonder in his voice. “It was the damndest thing.”

He got quiet then, and for a few moments all she could hear was his breathing. It had been a long time since she’d been this close to a man in the dark. And then it was back again, the question that had been dogging her since this afternoon. The same question that had been in the back of her mind as she’d directed students and talked to Sattler and sat alone in her camper, hunched over the mandible with a magnifying glass. The question of the decade, or at least of the summer.

Just where, exactly, was Gage Brewer planning to sleep?





Four

Gage awoke with a crick in his neck and a rumble in his gut. He squinted at the light streaming through the windshield and checked his watch. O640. He looked at Kelsey’s camper. If he guessed right, she’d be up shortly, getting ready to crack the whip on her soon-to-arrive students.