Chapter Eleven

"I didn't even bother to come . . . " Mark repeated the words, self condemnation evident in his tone. His back remained to them as he fixated on the bullet hole. His shoulders slumped at if all of the weight of the world had suddenly descended upon him

Amanda's heart went out to her old friend. He seemed so helpless and frightened. That wasn't a state she was used to seeing Mark Sloan in. He had one of the best intuitive minds that she'd ever had the joy to meet, and she intended to help him in any way she could.

"Mark, you can't say that. You don't know that your presence would have changed things, or even have made them worse."

"How could they be worse, Amanda?" Mark wanted to know. He didn't face them, but he did turn his head slightly to the side to show that he was listening.

"Well . . . " Amanda cast around in her mind for several moments, sending a glance in Jesse's direction, hoping that he'd have some input. At his wide-eyed look, she continued. "Well . . . . How would we know that there was even a problem if both of you had vanished? Who would have called for help?"

"Amanda's right," Jesse jumped in. "This is a really isolated area. You were supposed to be gone for a week. By then any leads that we might have found, any footprints, or other clues could have been washed away by the weather or animals or who knows what. And, then, there's also --"

Jesse stopped speaking mid sentence as Mark seemed to tense, then turned completely, a familiar expression on his face despite the fact that his worry was still evident. "What did you say?" Mark asked.

"I said that any leads might be gone . . . like, um, clues and stuff . They could get washed away if it rained again." Jesse frowned, speaking more as if he was asking a question than making a statement.

"That's right. You did." The beginning of hope began to shine in his eyes. He shot a quick glance at his watch, then back at the two of them. "Do either of you have any paper? Or a pen?"

"I do." Amanda wasn't sure where Mark was going either, but she was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. He had an idea, and pursuing that idea was better than sitting around waiting and worrying. She reached into her purse and withdrew a pen and a small notepad.

"Thanks." Mark quickly scrawled something and then began to look around the room as if he was searching for something. "Jesse. I need you to go in the bedroom and look on the bed where I left Steve's gun."

"Sure, Mark." Jesse looked ill at ease, but he did as he was asked.

Glancing over his shoulder at the note, Amanda frowned. It was his cell phone number. She figured that he was looking for a good place to hang the slip of paper so that the ranger would see it when they arrived. "How about we stick it to the door somehow," she suggested. "That'll be the first thing they see when they get here."

"Good thinking, Amanda. And these should work for hanging it." Mark moved toward a small pile of nails that had evidently fallen out of the box that had been tossed haphazardly to the floor near the kitchen. He grabbed a can of beans to use as a hammer.

Jesse returned, looking a little ill at ease carrying Steve's gun. He watched as Mark nailed the note to the door. "Why did you put your phone number up there?" Jesse asked. "And why do we need Steve's gun?"

"Because," Mark said, turning away from the task of nailing with a grim look. "We're going to go find Steve. When the rangers come, they can contact me on my cell. If it's Steve, he'll know I'm here. If it's not Steve, then . . . "

Jesse's mouth formed an "O". He held the gun toward Mark, who took it just as awkwardly as Jesse had been holding it.

He held it silently for a moment, and Amanda wondered what he was thinking. She imagined that he was pondering whether he could actually use it if need be. When his expression resolved into one of determination, she wasn't sure she wanted to know what conclusion he'd come to.

"What's the plan?" Jesse asked as they stepped outside of the cabin.

"Steve's truck is still here. There is no sign of any other vehicle in the driveway. Or there wasn't. So, unless they took wings and flew, there have to be foot prints around here somewhere. My guess is that one set will be Steve's and then another smaller set."

They all spread out, quickly covering the area. Jesse was the one who found them. "Over here!" He was on the west side of the cabin, moving toward the woods. They all ran to join him.

Amanda stooped beside Mark as he studied the tracks. She was amazed at his accuracy. There were two sets, one larger and one smaller. There was something that struck her a little odd about the larger ones, though.

"Mark . . . " she started. "Steve's . . . " She looked up and caught his anguished gaze.

"He's limping." The words were said very softly with mild shock. "I didn't . . . I was hoping that . . . " He didn't complete the sentence, but pushed himself to his feet and set off into the woods following the trail.

Amanda shared a look with Jesse as they followed him. "Why do I get the feeling that we're running out of time?" Jesse asked under his breath.

"Because we probably are." Amanda replied. It would do no good to continue dwelling on the confirmation of their fears. The limping footsteps confirmed that Steve had been hurt in some way. So, more than likely the blood was his also. The situation had increased in urgency. "Come on, let's catch up with Mark."

*

"Who the hell are you?!"

Steve evidently was too long in responding to the question, because he was plunged back into the cold waters. He inadvertently inhaled, and it went straight into his nostrils, burning a path that seemed to go directly to his brain. For the briefest of seconds, he thought his was going to drown and then his head cleared the water. Coughing and sputtering, he tried to clear his system of the liquid.

"I -- I'll tell . . . It's. . . " He struggled to speak and breathe, his chest heaving. Oxygen never felt so good to his lungs, but the motion was clearly unappreciated by the parts of him that had felt the impact of her booted foot. He was, no doubt, going to have some fantastic bruising there when this was all over with. However it ended.

That thought seemed to give his brain some clarity. He'd managed to stretch the ordeal this long. The sun wasn't quite directly over head. He figured it was starting to get on toward noon. There was no way she would follow him anyplace else. The only other direction to go was outward. Onto the water.

His thought process must have taken longer than he thought, because he felt her grip tighten as she prepared to dunk him again.

"It's in the water!" he yelled, forestalling the motion. Thankfully.

"What?!" she demanded, the edge of malice in her voice increasing. Steve wondered vaguely if she practiced.

"It's in the water," he repeated. "What's so hard to understand about that?" He figured he was due for another smart comment, or she'd never buy his story.

When the blow came, it knocked him over unto his back in the water, splashing water in all directions. With his hands trapped beneath him, there was nothing he could do but wait for her to drag him up so that his head was above water.

"I'm really getting tired of your games, Peterson. I think you need a little first hand knowledge of my abilities. Is it demonstration time, or are you going to tell me where the stuff is?"

Steve stared up into her malevolent gaze. This woman, he decided, was more than a little off center. If she ever found out who he was, his dad would never be safe. He couldn't take the risk of her killing him and then going after Mark. If he had to die, he was going to have to take her with him. There was no other way to save his father.

A sense of unreality overcame him as he began to tell her that he'd hidden the stuff out on the lake. He even believed the story as he told her that he'd used one of the trees as a marker, and then rowed out from it. That he'd submerged a beer can just beneath the surface as a reminder of where to look.

She got right down in his face. "You'd better not be lying to me, Peterson. If you are, you should kiss the ground now, because you'll never see it again." She smiled then, showing even white teeth. "Lake water is wonderful for hiding bodies."

Steve shuddered. He had a feeling that she was speaking from experience.