Beyond the Shadow (Above & Beyond Book 1) Page 20

  Lake decided to find out. “Hello?”

  “Lake? Lake, is that you?” It was Hawk’s voice. Hawk’s surprised voice. “Where are you? I told you to stay in the house and wait. It’s getting dark. You can’t be out wandering—”

  Lake interrupted him. “I am in the house . . . in Monica’s living room. This phone was in . . . her jacket pocket, here by the door. Whose phone is this? Who did you call?”

  There was an extended silence.

  “I called Monica’s number. I thought I’d see if I could locate her phone on the hillside. See where she’d been.”

  “Wha . . . that doesn’t make any sense. She lost her phone in the trees . . . on the hillside. She said so. This was . . . in a pocket of her jacket.” Lake told him, confused.

  “Yeah—uh—evidently, she didn’t,” he said, his tone flat. Then, with a sudden urgency to his voice, “Lake. Listen to me. Where’s Monica?”

  “Getting some air, out on the porch,” she answered, her confusion growing.

  “Lake, I’m on my way down. Listen, something’s not right here. My keys are in my truck. Drive it to the main road. Don’t tell her about the phone. Say you’re going to talk to Sam. Just leave. I’ll meet you on the road. Go—now!”

  Confused, Lake slipped the phone in her pocket and turned to do to as Hawk requested—just in time to catch a glimpse of a piece of firewood coming at her head. Lake ducked—but not in time. It caught her on the side of the face, sending her sprawling across the hardwood floor.

  “Not exactly the way it was supposed to turn out, but still—”

  Dazed, Lake touched the side of her head. Wet. Her fingers—red. Blood. She blinked hard, trying to make sense. On hands and knees, she skidded toward the side of the room, away from Monica.

  “Wha . . . what are you doing? Why? I . . . I don’t underst—”

  “I was beginning to think I’d never get to make him pay for my Joey. My sweet boy. It was all Hawk’s fault—all his fault. I waited . . . thought he’d never get married … have a son of his own. But then you came along—with that child. Worked out pretty well . . . Hawk fell for both of you.” She croaked. “Now Hawk Matthews will get the payback he deserves.” Monica’s head tilted crookedly at Lake. “Except, you weren’t supposed to find out—were supposed to think Colter made him disappear—and I could’ve just watched it all happen.” She squinted. “Now, what to do—with you?”

  Intent on getting out of the cabin, Lake scrambled to her feet and toward the door, but not in time. Monica reached up and grabbed her rifle from the wall rack.

  “Whoa . . . No you don’t . . .” She looked around. “Let’s go for a ride.”

  “I’m not going anywhere with you,” Lake answered firmly.

  The sound of booted footsteps running up the porch steps turned their attention to the door. Monica turned the rifle and motioned Lake to the door. “Outside.”

  “Now! Everybody . . . Out . . . Out in the yard,” Monica ordered. “This is Matthews’s payback. No need for all of you to get hurt—but don’t think I won’t.”

  Hawk winced at the sight of the blood on Lake’s face and started toward her.

  “Get away from her. Throw your keys over here. I will shoot you. I don’t want to, but I will if I have to. You should have years of suffering . . . but don’t think I won’t end you—or maybe just a kneecap for now. Now move!”

  In the yard, she kept the rifle trained on them and ordered. “Okay boys, empty your pockets. Real slow. I can shoot an eyelash off a grizzly . . . Ask Hawk . . . Nothing funny, now.”

  The guys looked to Hawk and at his nod, emptied their pockets on the ground. Monica ordered them to backup. After she gathered up the keys, she headed for Hawk’s truck. She kept the gun trained on them as she maneuvered herself into the truck.

  “Lay flat on the ground.” She shot a round into the dirt when the dogs headed in her direction. They yipped at the gravel sprayed their way and stopped.

  “Stay Elle. Stay Slug. Monica . . . Tell us . . . Where’s River? Monica . . . Take me with you. Shoot me right now—either way—just don’t take revenge on an innocent kid.” Hawk tried to convince her.

  “Innocent? My Joey was innocent. I could have shot you years ago. Too easy. Now . . . all of you . . . down . . . the rest of the way. You’ll never find him. An eye for an eye. That’s the way.”

  They all laid on the ground.

  “Now you’ll suffer like you deserve. Like I suffered.” She spat the words and shot another round into the dirt beside them, then peeled out, racing down the lane in Hawk’s truck.

  ***

  As soon as the truck started moving, they were up and scrambling to find any keys she’d missed in the dirt, trying to reorganize. Not more than a minute later, the sound of a siren wafted in their direction.

  “That’s Sam . . . Must’ve caught sight of Monica.” Hawk stated with a frown as they all turned in the direction of the sound. Another siren now.

  “Not far . . . mile? What’d ya think?” asked Randy.

  “I’d say,” answered Hawk.

  Then—the sound of screeching and crashing.

  “Anyone have keys?” Hawk asked desperately.

  “I think there’s still a spare under my fender,” from Randy, followed by a “Got it.”

  Hawk, Lake and Randy loaded into the big, black four by four and raced the quarter mile down to the main road. They rounded the bend to the sight of Sam and two deputies looking down into the ravine. From the looks of the brush, it was obvious someone had gone over the side.

  Monica couldn’t have gone off road in a worse spot. They located her body a few minutes later. She had been thrown from the truck about halfway down.

  Sam explained what they had gathered in town. “Eddy Blake spilled everything when threatened with arrest. Strictly a small-time hood—didn’t want to go down for kidnapping. Told us Colter had paid him to scare Lake. Colter bragged to him that he was, “egging the old Barnes woman on”—about Joey’s death being Hawk’s fault. Colter thought he could get her on his side—put more pressure on Hawk to sell out. I was on my way back up here to question Monica when she comes flying around the corner in Hawk’s truck.” He shook his head. “About ran me off the edge.”

  ***

  Lake stood beside Sam’s Explorer and clung to Hawk. It was dark now and their best chance at finding River had just gone over the side of the mountain.

  Amid the eerie scene, lit by flashing emergency lights and floodlights pointed off down the hill, Hawk took hold of Lake’s shoulders and pushed her gently back from him. The expression on his face was one Lake had never seen before—grim in the strange light. It matched his tone.

  His hands dropped from her shoulders. He touched the blood on the side of her face. Voice like gravel, shoulders slumped, he turned his head away, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “I’m sorry . . . so sorry . . . What I’ve brought down on you and River . . . didn’t deserve this . . . any of this . . . God . . . Why? His face turned upward, but his eyes remained closed, when they met hers again, his torment was evident.

  Lake felt his pain . . . and hers . . . and River’s—wherever he was. Pain, but pain that was not of Hawk’s doing. It was her turn to take his shoulders.

  “Hawk,” she pleaded. “Hawk. Listen to me . . . None of this is your fault . . . it’s all on Monica . . . not you. Her choices—all her.” Lake squeezed his arms—the tears running freely down her cheeks. “You helped me—showed me—there was hope.” She swallowed hard. “I believe in you. You can find River.” Her grip on his arms tightened. “Go. Do what you do. What you’ve trained to do. You know how to do this Hawk.”

  Lake couldn’t prevent the catch in her voice as she ended her plea. “I need you in my future . . . need both of you in my future.”

  ***

  Hawk rubbed an arm across his face and pulled Lake to him again. He laid his cheek across the top of her head for the briefest of momen
ts, then, set her back from him.

  He wiped at the tear stains on her cheeks.

  “I love you.” He kissed the top of her head and, with renewed resolve, said, “We’ve got work to do.”

  He rested her back against the car and headed back to the GRRR group.

  “What are we missing guys?” Hawk asked the group. “The dogs clearly showed River’s scent at the lane . . .”

  With the words, the seed of an idea began to germinate.

  “Monica had a little over an hour. She couldn’t have gone far. She wanted revenge . . .”

  He rubbed his head. Looked to Sam.

  “Revenge,” Sam echoed.

  “The mine.” they said simultaneously.

  “Let’s get over there,” Hawk added.

  “But the dogs—they indicated the road,” Cal interjected.

  “A couple of our trucks were parked across the old track that leads to the mine. Could we have misinterpreted?” Randy questioned.

  “Let’s go.” Hawk said.

  Sure enough, when the dogs followed the scent further, past all vehicles, the trail veered off in the direction of the old mine, not the highway.

  “We were so sure it was Colter or his goon—we assumed they were headed for the highway.” Sam shook his head.

  They regrouped and geared up for the mine. The rest of the guys, their keys still somewhere down the ravine with Hawk’s wrecked truck, loaded into the back of Randy’s pickup and they headed for the mine.

  After a ten-minute drive on the washed-out, abandoned road they unloaded the dogs—who immediately ran for the mine. They circled—barking, waiting for more orders—when told to stay by the entrance.

  “It’s dangerous in there. I can’t believe she chanced it,” said Sam.

  “I’ll go. I can’t believe any of this. But in the state of mind—or out of mind—Monica was in, I don’t think she was worried much about that,” Hawk added.

  “You sure you’re okay for this?” Sam frowned.

  “I’m fine.” Hawk lied, burying the pain that had flared up when he and Lake searched the hillside. Nothing was going to stop him now, from going in that nightmare of a death-trap he’d been avoiding all these years.

  Hawk gave the agitated Elle a sharp “Quiet!” and led her into the mine. Slow going—didn’t want the whole place coming down on them.

  “River! Can you hear me? River!” He called the boy’s name every so often, but got nothing except a showering of powder from the ceiling. One good sneeze could bring the place down, but there was no avoiding it. He had to call. He and Elle listened for any response. Nothing.

  About ten minutes in, Elle got excited.

  “Yeah, that’s it Elle. Find him girl. Find River.” Hawk spoke as loud as he dared, the amount of powder showering from overhead was becoming more and more alarming. Heart hammering, his hopes skyrocketed at the dog’s excitement.

  The dog led a few feet off the main trunk into in a side chamber, where the beam of his flashlight caught the object of her excitement.

  A black tennis shoe with red stripes. River’s. He’d seen the boy wear them many times. Hawk frowned and shined his light around the chamber. There were footprints—looked to be about the size of a woman’s boot.

  But, no child’s tracks? A lone tennis shoe? The realization hit him. Why—the warped, old hag.

  Timbers above creaked and moaned as Elle barked a warning.

  ***

  The distant rumbling first silenced, then set the group outside the mine to yelling. “Back up!” and “Get back!” filled the air as the group scrambled for safety.

  Lump in throat, and after a yank from Sam Lake ran too—.

  A dirty cloud belched from the mouth of the mine. It blocked everything for a few moments. The dusky powder choked out Lake’s desperate cry. “Hawk! River!”

  ***

  Seconds later came the bark, then a man and dog emerged at full run from the cloud, just ahead of a ground rattling whump and an even bigger cloud that covered them all.

  Lake coughed and stumbled toward Hawk, thankful he was alive, eyes searching his arms for River. The stunned realization hit—no River. She dropped hard to her knees—all her hope crushed as the collapsed mine.

  Hawk struggled to control a fit of coughing from the dust and his tender ribs. “Sam.” More coughing. “Randy. Cal. Work the hillsides—both sides of the mine.” He straightened up, fighting the coughing, brushing himself off. He peered off into the darkness. “She left him out here someplace, I’m sure of it. All I could find inside were her footprints and one of his tennis shoes. More coughing. “I think she meant to throw the dogs off—wanted me to go deeper in there. But I spotted a couple of woman-sized boot prints, just before—” He coughed again.

  A somber Sam considered the collapsed mine. “Sure hope you’re right.” he added quietly.

  Hawk grabbed Lake’s hand and pulled her to her feet, his only word, “Pray.”

  Hawk, Elle and the other men fanned out into the darkness.

  Pat bandaged the scrape on her face and made a small fire. They sat and waited, listening to the searchers calls for River become fainter as they worked their way farther out.

  Please protect River . . . Be beside him —let him enjoy this warmth soon.

  Twenty minutes of angst and fervent prayer later, Pat’s radio crackled to life. It was Cal.

  “We . . .” the radio crackled and buzzed.

  “We—what?” Lake jumped to her feet, emotions of hope and fear mixing together.

  The crackling finally cleared.

  “We’ve got him! We found the boy.”

  Lake grabbed Pat’s arm in anticipation. “Thank God! Is he all right?”

  “What’s his condition? Is he all right?” Pat asked.

  “Yes. Cold. Gonna need warming up. Back in fifteen.”

  Lake choked back joyful tears and thought a fervent prayer of thanks. Pat gave a whoop of celebration which was followed by the others. Hugs were exchanged all around. They made cocoa in the big, yellow GRRR truck and waited impatiently, expressing astonishment at the events of the day.

  Fifteen minutes later, a commotion at the tree line signaled Hawk’s emergence into the circle of flashing lights, carrying River, the little boy bundled in Hawk’s GRRR jacket. Hawk’s teeth shone white through all the mine dust covering him as he beamed at Lake.

  She’d never seen a more wonderful sight than the two people she loved most in the world emerging from those trees with the big dog at Hawk’s side. She stumbled over the dark, rock-strewn ground to get to them. Once there, she hugged River tightly, burying her face, tears and kisses on the top of his mussed hair.

  River’s little boy voice sounded weak and confused, but relieved. “Monica said we were going to meet you guys out there. That you decided for us to have a picnic,” he told Lake. “I’m sorry. She was lying, wasn’t she? She took my shoe and ran away from me. And I lost my cap . . . but I stayed . . . I didn’t wander . . . Hawk said not to wander, if you’re ever lost . . . I stuffed grass in my jacket too, to keep warmer, just like Hawk said . . . but I’m still kinda cold . . .

  “We’ve got hot cocoa sweetie, and, don’t worry, we found your Cub’s cap.” Taking River from Hawk’s arms, she dropped to her knees in front of the little boy. Gathering him to her with the biggest of bear hugs, she planted kisses on the top of his head—moves that normally would have drawn instant objection in public—but not tonight.

  “Love you,” River said.

  “Love you more,” Lake answered and renewed her hug to him as she lifted her gaze to the face of the man she had tried so hard to hate, but had instead come to cherish.

  “I’ll always love you.”

  Hawk’s answering smile nearly outshone the campfire. He hoisted River onto his back and tucked Lake to his side. Then, the three, entwined in a kind of walking embrace, with Elle dancing around them, made their way toward light and warmth
—and the promise of their future.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  JULEE BAKER writes and paints from her home in South Dakota, where wide-open spaces and starry skies that spill out into forever, give her room to wander and dream big. When not at her keyboard or easel, you might find her attempting to turn her urban landscape into a forest.

  Author’s note: I hope you enjoyed Hawk and Lake’s story. Don’t you think Sheriff Sam deserves his own book? It’s up next in the ABOVE & BEYOND series. To receive notification of this and future releases-visit: www.juleebaker.com and sign-up.

  Thanks for reading!