Behind the Lies (A Montgomery Justice Novel) (20 page)

Anna Montgomery didn’t want to leave the darkness. The lack of light soothed her, made it easy to forget. She breathed in, then out. She knew that smell. Anna hated the scent of hospitals. This was where Patrick had died, where her son Gabe had almost slipped away.

She opened her eyes and stared up at six sets of concerned gazes. She blinked. She should never have let the light in. It pummeled her mind. She squeezed her eyelids tight. Why did her head feel as if she’d been pounded with a meat tenderizer?

Memories beat through her, swirling, circling, like lumpy cake batter, incomplete and confusing.

A man. Not Patrick. Holding her.

A kiss.

She blushed.

Fiery visions exploded in her mind.

And she remembered.

“John,” she whispered. “Where’s John?”

“Don’t talk, Mom,” a voice choked.

Gabe. Her baby.

Someone squeezed her hand. “Open your eyes. Please, Mom,” Caleb said, without any of the reserve his medical training had pounded into him.

His words, laced with worry, drove Anna to try again.

She forced her heavy eyelids open and blinked several times. The light made tears erupt, but she didn’t give in. Not this time. She blinked again, her vision clearing. Her gaze moved from face to face. First to Jasmine, her daughter by marriage, a woman who had survived more hurt than Anna could fathom. Then Luke, who had healed Jasmine’s soul with his love. Her second youngest was a good man.

Gabe, Seth, Caleb, Nick…

“Zach?” she whispered. “Where’s Zach?”

Gabe’s expression grew dark. “I’m sure he’s fine,” he said, patting her shoulder. “Don’t worry about Zach. Focus on you.”

Anna clutched the blanket in her hand. “He’d be here if he could,” she said, wrinkling her forehead with an expression Patrick had called her stubborn face. “Make sure he’s all right. Please.”

Seth stepped forward. “I’ll find him, Mom. I have ways. You rest.”

Anna studied Seth. Everyone believed his job to be the most dangerous. He’d seen too much, and she recognized the torment he should never have known—too much like Patrick. But Zach, Zach had his secrets, too, and they rivaled Seth’s.

She let out a sigh. “Please, find him.” Her eyes drifted shut. “John saved my life. Tell him…thank you.”

A small sniffle sounded. Anna refused to give in to the frisson of apprehension. John Garrison would come to her. She wouldn’t consider any other alternative.

Jenna raced after Zach; the pine needles crunched under her feet. He jumped over a moss-covered stone and she stumbled after him. He grabbed her elbow but didn’t slow down. With the imager tight in one hand, he tugged her after him.

“What did you see?” she panted.

He didn’t answer, and Jenna’s heart rammed into gear like a souped-up roadster. Her muscles pumped as the terrain flew under them. “Sam!” she couldn’t stop the scream from escaping her lips.

This time Zach didn’t hush her.

Oh God.
What had he seen?

Zach skidded to a stop when he reached a small thatch of aspens. Darkness had begun settling over the mountain. The
shadows made everything murky and indistinct. She squinted. “Is he here?”

“I hope so,” Zach muttered, pushing through the thicket. He slowed down.

“Sam!”

She clutched Zach’s hand. “Tell me,” she whispered, her entire being shaking.

He turned to her and cupped her face. “Sam vanished off the screen.”

Jenna’s knees buckled. “No. This can’t be happening. I’m supposed to keep him safe. That’s why we left.”

Zach grabbed her arms. “Listen to me. This is my mountain. There are holes and caves nearby. The cliff isn’t for another fifty feet. Sam’s here somewhere.”

“Sam!” Jenna yelled. “Sam, can you hear us? Please, baby. Answer me.”

They stilled, listening for any sound that didn’t belong. Crickets chirped; chipmunks chattered; an owl hooted. A tree shuffled nearby.

But no voices save their own.

“Sam!” Zach shouted. “If you can hear me, call out.”

A hole where Jenna’s soul had been grew dark and empty, a void spreading that threatened to swallow any hope she ever had.

And then a sound filtered toward them over the chilling breeze.

“Heeelllppp!”

A boy’s voice. Sam’s voice.

Jenna closed her eyes, focusing everything within her on the direction.

The sound faded away before she could tell. She looked at Zach, his frustration mirroring her own.

“Sam, where are you?” she called.

“Mommmmmmy?”

His voice sounded strange, echoing and far off. She strained to pinpoint the location, circling around and around in the small grove. “Where is he?”

“Get him to call out to you,” Zach said.

She cupped her hands around her mouth. “Keep yelling, Sam. Don’t stop, baby.”

“Mommmy…Mommmmmy…Moooommmmmmyyyy.”

Zach shifted to his right, Jenna trailed after him. Little by little they followed Sam’s oddly muffled voice. His calls grew louder and more distinct, and more scared.

“Pleeeaassseee. Save me, Mommy.”

Jenna could barely keep a whimper from escaping.

Zach squeezed her hand tight, and she drew from his strength and his certainty. “This way.” He pushed past a throng of pine trees and stopped.

A narrow ravine sliced through the landscape. Jenna swallowed down the bile rising in her gut. “Mommmyyyy!” Sam’s voice rose from the chasm in the earth.

She lurched forward, but Zach shoved her back. “The ground has eroded,” he said, pointing to the upturned dirt. “The earth just gave way, and Sam slid down. We can’t get caught in the same trap.”

With one hand clutching a long tree limb, Zach stretched out and peered into the crevice. “Sam?”

“I’m here!” he said, his voice cracking. “Where’s my mommy?”

“I’m with Zach, baby. Don’t worry. We’ll get you.”

Zach stepped away from the edge and slipped off his backpack. “Sam’s down about twenty feet, but it doesn’t look too bad. Some trees broke his fall. He’s sitting on a ledge.” Zach raised his gaze to the barely lit sky. “I’m going down.”

He unzipped his pack and pulled out a long length of climbing rope and a rappelling device.

“What can I do?” she asked.

“Be ready to pull him up.”

Jenna watched as Zach used an elaborate tie to secure the rope around a large tree with no hesitation whatsoever.

“You’ve done this before.”

“I’ve climbed these mountains more than once.” He tugged at the two lines. “Ready. Don’t go past this point, Jenna,” he said, indicating a boulder. “The ground’s unstable.”

She nodded.

“I’ll yell when I have Sam secured. You pull him up.”

“What about you?”

“Untie the rope from around him and toss it down to me. I’ll climb up. Piece of cake.”

He quirked a smile, but the clenching of his jaw and the intensity in his gaze spoke the truth.

Jenna clenched her fists and straightened her back. “I’ll be ready.”

He touched her cheek. “I know.”

With a quick clip on his belt, he secured the line and eased toward the edge. Dirt sifted into the ravine.
Oh God
, now she understood the extent of the danger. The rim could give way at any time. He shifted his weight off the crumbling soil and planted his foot on solid rock. Picking his way, he maneuvered over the side, his silhouette framed in the reddening sunset.

“Red at night, sailor’s delight,” she whispered. She prayed the old saying would be true.

One last time Zach’s gaze met hers. He winked, then disappeared over the side.

The climb was going to be a bitch. Zach couldn’t believe he’d forgotten about the wide ravine. He avoided it on his hikes. He planted his foot on the crumbling side of the gorge. The dusky conditions made it difficult to see every nuance of the rock face. The soft sandstone crumbled under his touch.
Hell.
He balanced his weight between the rope and his feet and eased down.

With a quick glance over his shoulder he gauged the distance. Another fifteen feet.

Sam lay on a ledge, sitting up, staring wide-eyed at Zach. The boy’s face was scratched, but he shifted his legs. At least he could move.

A tree growing straight out of the side of the ravine canopied Sam. The limbs must have broken his fall.
Otherwise
…Zach wouldn’t let the thoughts go further. Sam was alive. That’s all that mattered.

He tested the next foothold. His boot sent a wall of rock crumbling down.

“Cover your head, Sam!” he yelled.

The boy hunkered, and dirt sprinkled him, the biggest chunks missing the ledge altogether.

“What’s wrong?” Jenna yelled from above.

“We’re fine. Almost there,” he yelled back. He hoped he wasn’t lying.

A few more precarious feet and Zach hovered above the ledge. He studied the outgrowth. Granite, and not crumbling, thank God.

Zach lowered himself, giving enough slack to kneel beside Sam. “How are you doing, buddy?”

“I hurt my ankle,” Sam said quietly, refusing to meet Zach’s gaze.

Streaks of dirt and tears marked the little boy’s cheeks.

The kid didn’t need a lecture. He’d learned his lesson, all too well. “I’m going to get you back to your mom.”

The boy nodded. Zach unhooked the rope and created a cradle for Sam to stick his feet through.

With a quick tug he secured the double figure-eight fisherman’s knot. “OK, Junior Avenger, your mom’s going to pull you up. Just hold on tight. We won’t let you fall again.”

Sam nodded his head, then lifted his gaze to Zach. “I’m sorry I ran.”

“You were mad, huh?” Zach said.

“I didn’t want to leave, then I saw you kiss her.” Sam bit his lip. “You shouldn’t have kissed her. She belongs to me and my daddy.”

Zach let out a slow stream of air. How to explain to a five-year-old, when he didn’t understand it himself? He tried for as close to the truth as either one of them could understand. “I was kissing her good-bye, Sam. We’re friends, right? Sometimes you kiss friends good-bye.”

The boy bowed his head. “I guess.”

Zach ruffled Sam’s hair. “It’s all right, but when you’re upset, you need to tell your mom. Don’t let it eat up your insides.”

“Can’t tell. If I’m bad, Daddy hurts Mommy. Then he has to go to time-out until he’s better. It makes me sad.”

Damn it.
Zach didn’t know what to say to that one. Jenna would be mortified Sam knew about her husband. How do you explain to a kid who loves his dad that sometimes time-out doesn’t fix everything?

“Let’s get you back to your mom.” Zach cupped his hands. “Jenna, pull Sam up. Slow and steady.”

Inch by inch the rope tightened. The line lifted Sam off the ledge.

“Easy does it,” Zach yelled.

It took several minutes, but soon, Sam hovered near the top. Zach could barely make out his figure any longer. Most of the light had disappeared behind the peaks.

This is where it could get tricky.

Dirt filtered down, hitting Zach in the face. The edge crumbled under the pressure of the rope.

“Sam, see that rock to your right?” Zach shouted. “Can you grab for it?”

The boy reached for the outcrop, but he couldn’t hold on. He swung away.

“Jenna, move to your left. Toward the rock! Sam, you can do this. Grab it.”

Sam reached out his hands and this time clutched it and scrambled over.

“Run to your mom, away from the edge.”

With the flexibility and resilience only a five-year-old could have, Sam disappeared.

“He’s OK!” Jenna yelled, joy pouring from every tone.

Zach bent over, his hands on his knees. He let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. His entire body went slack. The kid was amazing.

A slight movement shifted Zach’s attention. A sliver of remaining sunlight outlined a mountain goat. He stood on the side of the ravine, calm and relaxed, then cocked his head at Zach.

“Show-off,” Zach muttered at the sure-footed animal that scampered across the rocks and disappeared behind a large outcropping and into the night. The animal had the right idea. Zach needed to get off the mountain.

“Untie Sam and throw the rope down,” he called up.

Minutes later the lifeline soared to him, getting caught in the tree that had broken Sam’s fall.