“Come on,” she said, standing and stretching out her left arm for him to use as a pull-up bar.
He tried standing on his own. Cursed under his breath. Then he grabbed hold and allowed her to help haul him to his feet. He slammed a palm against the tree to steady himself, his lower lip between his teeth.
She found a place for them to cross the river. It took too much time. She was surprised to find the rain had transformed the shallow water to waist-deep. The air temperature was balmy and warm, so Maggie was shocked to find the river ice cold. Tully didn’t complain. She made him follow close behind with a hand latched onto each of her shoulders. They waddled liked ducks at an excruciatingly slow pace.
On the other side of the river Maggie hunted for a spot to climb up the bank. This side was the state forest, left wild and undeveloped. They had to wade through water lilies and reeds. Finally Maggie found a downed tree, partially submerged in the river. They could walk alongside it, holding on for balance. She pulled herself up the slippery clay bank, then turned around and helped Tully.
Not far from the river they found the perfect hiding place under another fallen tree. The root ball had been yanked out of the ground, providing a nest of twisted roots that snaked and weaved together. From within, Tully would be able to see out. After they smeared his blue FBI windbreaker with mud, it would be difficult to see him inside.
She handed him the ASR canister that she had also taken off Trooper Campos’s belt and stuck inside the cuff of her other sock.
“It’ll slow him down.” She tried to sound convincing.
When she turned to leave, Tully grabbed her arm. He waited for her to look him in the eyes.
“I know you’re going back, aren’t you?”
“It’s the only way,” Maggie said. “If you can’t outrun a killer, you’ve got to outwit him.”
He didn’t look pleased, but she knew he wouldn’t try to talk her out of it. He dug in his windbreaker and pulled out the pen Gwen had given him. It was all he had to offer.
“Put the X-Acto blade into place and slit that bastard’s throat.”
CHAPTER 69
Creed had put Bolo in the front of the two-man inflatable and the dog was working the air, his huge nose making snuffling sounds. He let the dog help, though he knew exactly where he was going. As he rowed he watched the GPS’s screen and followed, taking narrow creeks and winding his way around fresh debris that the rains and wind had set loose.
He’d been up Blackwater River before and was familiar with most of the creeks that forked into it. The river was thirty-one miles long and was one of the best canoe trips in the area. The mist lifted little by little and night lifted into dawn. Streaks of light shot through the trees as daylight broke on the other side of the tall pines. With the sunrise came a fresh hope and renewed belief that anything was possible.
He had changed his cell phone ringer to Vibrate but he had lost all reception miles ago, so he turned it off to preserve the battery.
“Not much farther, Bolo,” he told the dog, who acknowledged him with a wag of his tail, but that was the only thing that moved on his rigid body.
A couple more bends and twists and they would be at the property that John Howard Elliott owned. Creed only hoped it wasn’t too late.
CHAPTER 70
Maggie thought she heard a helicopter in the distance. Was her imagination already playing tricks on her? A part of her wanted to stay with Tully and hide until someone came to their rescue. The sound of the helicopter made her hesitate and reconsider. Then it faded and disappeared. Replaced by the drumming of her heart.
Jack would expect Maggie and Tully to trip over each other. He’d expect them to be frightened, to get frustrated then get angry with each other. He’d want them to become enemies, so that by the time he caught them they would be so enraged with each other they’d be begging him to kill the other first.
Jack would also count on them running as fast and as far away as they could. Using their allotted time to run for help.
What he wouldn’t expect was for Maggie to come back.
When she left Tully she backtracked. It took hardly any time now that she was alone. As the sky continued to lighten and the mist dissipated, she needed to be more careful about taking cover. Crossing the river, she remembered every obstacle and quickly maneuvered around them. By now she was drenched in sweat, and the bone-deep cold of the river actually revitalized her senses.
She was struck by the fact that the cabin couldn’t be seen
from the river. Trees surrounded it. Tall long-leaf pines crowded together with not a shoulder-width between them. Other hardwood trees were interspersed. Scrub bushes, junipers, tall grass, and vines grew so thick it made it impossible to walk without them scraping skin or snagging clothing.
Maggie sneaked back to the live oak that she and Tully had hid behind earlier. She hadn’t climbed a tree since she was a little girl, but within minutes she was perched high above the ground with a perfect bird’s-eye view of the cabin’s only door. And she could see the river all the way to the first bend.
She knew that Otis and Jack had taken both troopers’ service revolvers along with Tully’s Glock and her Smith & Wesson. And Jack already had what she believed to be a Glock. Surely they wouldn’t take all five weapons with them. After all, Jack didn’t like to use guns. He preferred to cut.
She decided to watch them leave. Then she’d wait. How long? She had no idea. She’d depend on her gut to tell her.
By her wristwatch, it had been nineteen minutes since she and Tully had left the cabin. Jack had promised them thirty. At twenty-one minutes she saw the cabin door open. Her body went still, her back pressed against the bark. She did not move a muscle. A breeze ruffled the leaves around her and sent the smaller branches swaying. Her heart had been banging against her chest the whole time she hobbled Tully across the river and into hiding. But now she found herself remarkably calm, her breathing steady and her mind clear.
She watched Jack point to something on the ground.
Footprints
.
Would they be able to tell that she had come back? Or did it simply look like two frantic people, running one way and then another?
Then the men split up. Jack followed the riverbank. Otis disappeared into the forest behind the cabin.
Maggie checked her watch again. She’d give herself ten minutes. Anything more would be dangerous, but ten minutes was all it should take.
CHAPTER 71
Eleven minutes
.
Maggie couldn’t find the guns anywhere. Where would Jack have hidden them?
She crawled along the floor, ducking under the windows and staying low. She had already searched every cabinet and cubbyhole in the cabin. She’d looked under furniture, between the mattress and box spring, under the sofa cushions, even behind the chemical toilet. None of the floorboards was loose. The walls were solid. She had rifled through the only two drawers of clothing and patted down folded towels. She picked apart the wood and kindling crate and shoved her hand into the ice chest beneath the carton of milk and packages of ground beef.
No guns.
Twelve minutes
.
Maggie scooted under the window that overlooked the river and stole a glance out. She’d never see them return in time to escape.
She tried to remember. It was raining hard by the time they got to the cabin. Neither man had gone out. Otis had brought a duffel bag in with him from the boat. Gray, canvas. She still hadn’t come across it. She needed to go through the cabinets again.
Then she heard something. Her body froze and she held her breath. It sounded like a dog barking.
Creed. It had to be Creed
.
Relief swept over her before she caught herself. Grace had never once barked. If Creed had found the bodies in the clearing and followed them here, he would never allow his dog to bark and give them away.
And suddenly Maggie’s pulse began to race.
CHAPTER 72
Maggie’s breath came in quick bursts. All the calm and steady resolve she had built up now threatened to break apart. She started to race from the cabin, then stopped herself.
Was it a trick? Jack claimed to know everything about her. Did he know she was a sucker for dogs? And especially dogs in distress.
Once outside she could hear the barking again. It sounded like it was coming from the same direction she had seen Jack headed. And the dog was frantic.
Instead of following along the riverbank, Maggie stayed back in the forest. Her eyes searched while she darted from tree to tree. The knee-high brush jabbed and poked. It was impossible to walk through the forest and be quiet. Branches snapped. Closer to the riverbank, clay sucked at her boots. Birds fluttered out of her path. Water rushed over a logjam.
And suddenly it occurred to her and she stopped dead in her tracks.
Would Jack have a dog to help track her and Tully? Had the dog already found Tully?
No, the barking came from the opposite direction.
She started walking again, only this time she took careful
steps, watching ahead for movement and frustrated because she still didn’t see any. The ground sloped enough that she needed to climb. She kept a steady pace and glanced over her shoulder. Streaks of daylight created shadows as well as blind spots.
Maggie slowed her pace as she got closer to the barking dog. Just over this next slope she knew she’d be able to see the commotion. She slammed her back against a tree, then dropped into a crouch. Urgency fought a battle with caution. The trees came right up to the edge of the river. Keeping low to the ground, she hid behind the shrubs and fallen branches. Now she could hear the dog’s sharp bark and growls within a hundred feet. But she also heard rushing water. She eased herself up to take a look over the edge of the riverbank.
Down below she could see an inflatable blue-and-white boat pulled up on a sandbar. Two men wrestled and rolled in the sand while a huge dog barked and snarled from its perch inside the boat. The dog had on a bright yellow vest and harness. And then Maggie realized one of the men was Creed. The other was Jack. Her eyes caught a glint of sunlight off the knife blade in Jack’s hand.