Close To Danger (Westen #4)(81)
A whimper sounded at his feet.
Leaning down, he patted W?den on the head and scratched behind his ears. “I know. I’m an arrogant ass and you’ve been the one hurt. I’m sorry, big guy.”
Opening the bag of jerky Chloe had left near the bowl of water, he gave the wolf-dog a few pieces, then pulled one big one out for himself. W?den looked out the door that Chloe had exited, then stared up at him as if saying, “You sent her out there all alone?”
“I know. I put her in danger, sending her into the woods she doesn’t know, looking for help that may or may not be there, but what choice did I have? Her only chance of survival is not being here when Hannah starts shooting the place up.”
Lifting the top tray of medical supplies out of the bin, he pulled out the extra magazine for his Glock and set it on top of the bin. Not a ton of ammo, but hopefully enough. He knew Hannah had a sniper rifle. She’d have to in order to make the shots she’d made earlier. Question was, did she also have a sidearm? Next, he pulled out the two fixed-blade combat knives he’d stored in the tub and checked their sharpness. Satisfied, he placed all his arsenal within reach. He wasn’t wasting time hunting them once the battle started. Keeping Hannah focused on trying to kill him was the key to Chloe making good her escape.
A crack sounded south of the deer blind.
W?den’s ears picked up and he growled, showing his teeth.
Wes grabbed the binoculars in one hand and his gun with the other.
“Come get me, bitch.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“Sure. Send the city girl out into the frozen woods with a compass to get help. Makes perfect sense to me,” Chole muttered as she stomped through another pile of snow-covered underbrush.
“Uhmf,” she grumbled as her leg sank knee-deep into the cold mass. “I just hope he’s alive when I get back. I’d hate to revive him just to kill him for doing this.”
Grabbing onto the tree trunk beside her, she hauled her leg out of the drift and onto what she hoped was a solid log. A quick glance at her watch told her she’d been out there fifteen minutes. She could run a mile in less than ten minutes on a good day and pave road. How far had she come?
“Would’ve been nice if Wes had told me exactly how far this Harriett’s place was.”
“One thousand three hundred and twenty feet.”
“Ahh!” Chloe jumped and turned to where the slightly husky voice had come.
A short, older woman wearing dark-rimmed glasses, a mouth pressed in firm lines of disapproval and bundled like an Eskimo stood about six feet to her left. She reminded her of the character in one of those NCIS shows, only taller.
“You must be Harriett?” Chole said, catching her breath and willing her heartrate to slow to somewhere near normal.
“You’re Bobby’s sister, Chloe,” the other woman stated.
“Yes, I am.” She wanted to ask how Harriett knew that, but figured it was unimportant at this moment. “Wes sent me to find your cabin and call for help. If you could take me there?”
“Nope,” she said, moving away from the tree and held out a backpack. “Put this on.”
Chloe took the pack and slipped it over her shoulders. “What’s in it?”
“Supplies.”
“But we have to get help for Wes. There’s a crazy woman trying to kill him.”
“Hannah.”
“You know who it is?”
“Kept an eye on her when she hit town.” Harriett started walking in the direction Chloe had just come.
“Wait. You’re heading the wrong way. We have to go to your place and call my brother-in-law. Wes needs help.”
“Already on its way.”
Chloe took long strides to catch up to the other woman. “What do you mean help is on the way? You and me? He needs more help than two women.”
Harriett paused to look over her shoulder with one arched brow.
Chloe suddenly felt like she was back in the seventh grade, standing in front of the principal’s desk after punching Cindy Seacort’s nose for picking on Dylan.
“Never underestimate the strength of two good women,” Harriett said before heading south.
Once again, Chloe found herself having to hurry to catch up. For someone half a foot shorter than her, Harriett moved through the snowy forest as if she were an Olympic speed walker.
“Wes was very specific. He wanted me to call for help. Us showing up there will only distract him. He has a plan.”
“Sacrificial lamb plans always suck.”
Chloe opened her mouth to argue just as gunfire sounded ahead of them.
*
Gage stood hunkered down behind Wes’s SUV. Someone had shot out the front wheel tire. By the looks of it they’d used a high-power rifle like the one Earl said he’d seen Hannah carrying.
Staying pressed against the side of the vehicle, he studied the cabin in front of him. The front door was ajar and no movement seemed to be coming from inside. The only noise was the low hum of a generator. The front window has been shot out.
Snow crunched behind him.
“Found tracks to the west of here, leading up to the house, boss,” Cleetus said, coming to rest behind him.
“Looks like Hannah made a sniper’s nest about five hundred yards back,” Daniel said, joining them. “Found her white truck off the road in a copse of white oaks and evergreens. Wouldn’t have found it if I hadn’t been looking for it.”