What Doesn't Kill Her (Cape Charade #2)(36)

The burned spot was, as Dakota said, three miles up the road. Max pulled up at the spot the van had been parked and started searching the ground. He found pink glitter and a melted princess doll that made him want to cry and a glittery trail that led toward the creek that flowed under the road and up into the forest. Kellen’s footsteps dug deep into the gravel, as if she’d been running, and joined smaller footsteps that pressed into the creek sides and then up toward a clearing surrounded by trees where—

Max had his head down, following the tracks, intent on knowing where his daughter and his woman (not his, not yet) had been.

When he looked up, he saw the man’s body, bound to the tree, slumped against the trunk, throat cut, blood spilling down his chest...

With that one glance, Max identified him. This was the guy who had picked up Kellen in the white van and driven her and Rae away to an adventure that could very well be the death of them. And this guy, whatever his name was, was now dead in a brutal bloody murder.

Max had to get to Kellen and Rae before it was too late.

He backtracked to his truck and drove on to the parking area fast enough to make his jaw snap when he hit a bump. He parked and consulted his map. He had already made his decision. He would make no attempt to report the murder. The guy was already dead and if Max had contacted the authorities, he would have been there for hours, possibly detained as a suspect. Weighed against the threat to Kellen and Rae, the legalities were unimportant.

Kellen had to know the danger she was in.

Would she try to get Rae to the ranger station?

Or would she head for the Restorer’s home base?

If she headed for the ranger station, Max knew she and Rae would be safe with them.

Max put the map away, shouldered his backpack and started the rough climb up to Horizon Ridge and the Restorer. If for some reason, Kellen headed that way, their chances of survival lessened considerably. Maybe he was headed the wrong direction, but they would need him there.



17


At about an hour, Rae had apparently forgotten all about the guys who had stood outside their huckleberry thicket and talked with apparent pleasure about killing them.

Kellen wished she could forget. The way that man sounded—he wanted the head, and he wanted to hurt them even more.

Oh, Max, I’m so sorry. By now he knew Rae had stowed away. By now he’d spoken to Nils. He must be worried to death.

Rae was bored with hiking. She wanted to stop and play in the stream, build a dam, fall in again and get cold, wet and covered with dirt.

Kellen wanted to keep moving, avoid being captured and stay alive. Trying to explain why made no impression on Rae, and Kellen knew it behooved her to keep her child entertained and walking. After all, Kellen was the adult, the mature human being, the parent. She knew without a doubt Max could do it. How hard could it be? All she needed to do was talk to Rae about something that interested Rae, preferably something that wasn’t loud enough to attract the attention of the headhunters or the Mercenaries. Even better, she wanted to talk about something that didn’t involve chanting, “Groin, groin, groin,” like a primitive song from an early Star Trek episode.

Cheerfully, Kellen asked, “What do you think you could find out here and use for a weapon?”

“A weapon?” Rae sat down on a log. “I don’t want to wear my boots anymore.”

“Okay. Take off your boots.” Kellen already knew who was going to have to carry them. “If someone was hurting you, what could you grab real fast and use to hurt them back?”

One boot half off, Rae looked up at Kellen in dismay. “Everybody likes me!”

“That’s true.” Kellen took the first boot. “Everybody who knows you likes you. But maybe someone is on drugs and sees you as a threat. You know about people on drugs, right?”

“They taught us in school.” Rae got very solemn. “Drugs make people do bad things.”

“Right. Some people have problems in their minds, even without drugs, and they might be afraid of you and strike out.”

Rae frowned at Kellen. “Like in baseball?”

“No, I mean hit you.” Kellen accepted the second boot and used a nylon zip tie to fasten them to her backpack. “Grab you and try to take you somewhere you don’t want to go. What could you do to get away?”

“Run?” Rae jumped to her feet.

“That is a great answer!” Kellen took Rae’s athletic shoes out of the bag and knelt down beside her. She straightened Rae’s socks, made sure her athletic shoes were tied tight, and while she did, she listened to the sounds of the forest. Birds chirped. Small creatures scurried. An occasional breeze made the high branches creak. To her, it sounded normal, without threat or ambush.

She knew better now.

Again she thought, Oh, Max, I’m so sorry. Max took responsibility for the safety of everyone in his family. She remembered when she had saved his niece from kidnapping, everyone in the Di Luca family had toasted her, but it was Max who swore his allegiance to her. Even if they had never become lovers, she still had no doubt he would have protected and cared for her.

What would he do to keep his daughter safe?

“Come on,” she said to Rae. “Let’s keep walkin’ and talkin’.”

Rae put her hand in Kellen’s. “I like talking with you, Mommy.”

“I like talking with you, too, Rae.” Kellen looked at the little hand in hers. How did the child get so grubby so fast? “How about this? Let’s say someone knocked you down and sat on you and you couldn’t kick them. Do you see anything around here you could grab to poke in their eye?”