Mountain abduction, p.1
Mountain Abduction, page 1
“Grace? Is that you?”
April’s voice was frantic. “Grace, are you okay? Where are you?”
The line went dead.
“Oh my God,” she said, looking over at Sean. “Do you think...? That couldn’t have been her, right? But if it was her... She’s alive.”
“Who was on the caller ID?” he asked.
“There wasn’t a name. It was just a location. It says the number was out of Gillette, Wyoming.”
“Call the number back.”
She called the number back, but her call went straight to voicemail.
“Damn it!” she yelled, slamming her hand against the dashboard.
“It’s okay. Don’t get too upset. Maybe it wasn’t even her.”
She glared at him. “It was her. I know it was Grace. You know it was her, too.”
He had to hope it wasn’t. But the odds of it being anyone else besides Grace were astronomical.
“Sean, she’s in trouble. She needs help. She needs us.” She looked down at her phone, calling the number again, but it went to voicemail. “There has to be something we can do.”
Mountain Abduction
Danica Winters
Danica Winters is a multiple-award-winning, bestselling author who writes books that grip readers with their ability to drive emotion through suspense and occasionally a touch of magic. When she’s not working, she can be found in the wilds of Montana, testing her patience while she tries to hone her skills at various crafts—quilting, pottery and painting are not her areas of expertise. She believes the cup is neither half full nor half empty, but it had better be filled with wine. Visit her website at danicawinters.net.
Books by Danica Winters
Harlequin Intrigue
Big Sky Search and Rescue
Helicopter Rescue
Swiftwater Enemies
Mountain Abduction
STEALTH: Shadow Team
A Loaded Question
Rescue Mission: Secret Child
A Judge’s Secrets
K-9 Recovery
Lone Wolf Bounty Hunter
Montana Wilderness Pursuit
Stealth
Hidden Truth
In His Sights
Her Assassin For Hire
Protective Operation
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com.
CAST OF CHARACTERS
April Twofeather—A counselor at Sulphur Springs, an at-risk youth camp, and a woman who’s been broken by her past. When the secrets of her former life are revealed, she finds out her future may hold some scary truths.
Sean McCormack—A firefighter and volunteer member of Search and Rescue in Big Sky, Montana. When the chips are down, there is no one better to have at your side.
Grace Bunchen—An at-risk teen who has been constantly torn down by life.
Detective Ty Terrell—The lead detective in Big Sky, and a man who is willing to take a look at situations from all perspectives.
Andrew Blakely—Grace’s boyfriend and a fellow camper at Sulphur Springs. He’s a kid who is willing to do anything for his first love.
Damon McArthur—April’s ex and a man who is desperate to get back into her good graces.
To Phyllis,
Mama duck’s got you
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Excerpt from Guardian Defender by Jacquelin Thomas
Chapter One
April’s lungs ached and her calves where hot and numb from climbing. Her glutes were burning from the near vertical assent of the last push to the rocky and jagged peak in the heart of Montana. Long ago, she and her group of teenage campers had conquered the zigzag trail that had started just outside Big Sky and led halfway up the mountain—the point where most hikers stopped and turned around.
She tried to control her breathing, not daring to seem wanting for air in front of the bloodthirsty teens, the pubescent sharks who waited to feast on any perceived weakness. One of the girls in her group, Grace, had been kicked out of three high schools for possession of weapons, and while April didn’t believe the girl would pull a knife on her up here in the woods, she held no doubts that Grace would be the first to slash at her with her condemning words. The girl was brutal.
A few hundred yards downhill, Grace was breathing hard. Her mouth open as she pushed to follow April’s path through the loose, rocky scree mountainside. Her green hair was pulled tight against her head, and she was so sweaty that it looked as though she had just stepped out of the shower. There were beads of sweat dripping from her hairline, leaving behind a green tint on her skin thanks to her cheap dye.
When April had been younger, she and her delinquent friends had used Kool-Aid to color their hair, and the results were much the same. It was a strange comfort to see that some things hadn’t changed in the sixteen years since she left high school—left might have been a slight exaggeration, as she’d been more or less kicked out after she’d found out she was pregnant.
Her hand drifted down to her abdomen as she thought about the baby that had once been hers. If she could guide other kids through the woods, maybe she, in some simple way, could help them navigate their lives and lead them to realize that no matter what life confronted them with, they had the power to break through and conquer the nearly vertical assents.
“Push past the pain, Grace,” she called, trying not to sound placating or cloying in her attempt to encourage the girl.
This was Grace’s battle, and only she could find the inner strength to keep going, but April could be there to give her support and celebrate with her for the well-earned and empowering victory that came with conquering the mountain. The mountain was a metaphor for so many things in her life, so many choices, so many mistakes and opportunities that she had failed to grasp.
As much as April wanted to think that she wouldn’t continue to fail in her life—that instead this one personal victory would be enough to change her forever and free her of being the imperfect human she’d become—she held no false hopes. There would forever be more mountains to climb. Though she would like to think she could conquer them all, there would be times she failed. It was only when she stopped trying to press her way to the top—when she gave up and let the challenges beat her—that she would truly lose, and she would be losing a part of herself.
Perhaps that was the lesson she wanted Grace and the three other kids who followed behind her on the mountain to realize. Each kid had their own demons and hardships to overcome, but she’d love to think she could give them the tools and fortitude to keep pressing.
Grace had stopped and was looking up at her from down the mountain. “This had better be worth it,” the girl growled between breaths. “This is the stupidest thing you’ve had us do, yet.”
“If you wanted something easy, you could have signed up for basket weaving.”
“I should have,” Grace said, trying to catch her breath. “At least then I wouldn’t have had to stare at your ass in my face for the last three miles.”
She wanted to be mad at the girl for her rudeness, but something about her fire made April check her laugh. Grace was nothing if not authentic and that had to be appreciated to some degree.
“You know, they make creams for cellulite, now,” Grace snarled. “If you’re going to wear tight pants, you should probably shell out the money.”
Strike that, she thought, the girl is an authentic ass.
Any approbation she had been feeling with the girl blew away on the high-mountain wind. To argue with her would be an admission that Grace had hurt her feelings, but to let the comment go without rebuttal was to give Grace the win in letting her rudeness go without consequence. Yet, on this mountain, there were better things than words to use in this clash.
She considered making the girl pick up one of the rocks at her feet and put it in her backpack to carry as some symbolic weight about the pain that could be left by words. This girl was the kind who would never respond to physical punishments, but she also wasn’t the kind who would follow the rules.
Maybe Grace was April’s real battle, not the hike.
She sidestepped around the loose rock near the top, carefully planting her feet as she moved down the steep hill and reached out for Grace. “Here, take my hand.”
The girl sneered at her hand and pushed it away. “I don’t need help.”
“I know you don’t want it, but learning when to accept help when it is provided is a strength in itself.” She motioned for her to
The other three kids finally came around the corner and into view, looking more tired than even she felt. One of the boys, Andrew, in the back was ruddy faced and he had taken off his jacket and had tied it around his waist.
“I’ve got this,” Grace said quietly, as though she did not want the others to hear.
Grace looked over her shoulder at the group and, instead of taking her hand, she moved farther away and toward an area that was even steeper than where April had chosen to make their final ascent.
With every step Grace took, the rocky crumbling hillside shifted and gave way, the incline too steep to allow for any additional pressure. Grace’s face pinched into a tight, resolved scowl as she grabbed at the rocks and moved her body lower toward the ground to move her weight to her advantage.
She gained a few feet before the rocks she had been standing on shifted and gave way, creating a clacking of granite on granite as the cobbles smacked against boulders and scattered downward.
Yesterday, it had rained on the mountain, leaving the ground saturated to the point where a major slide was very possible, but something like that was rare. Though, a decade or so ago, a family had been killed in a situation much like this on this mountain. She didn’t want to be a headline or a tragedy others spoke about around campfires and wine circles as some cautionary tale.
“Grace, get over here,” she said, trying to sound calm as she watched a rock plummet and explode as it hit a boulder.
The girl didn’t look at her. “I said I’ve got this,” she growled through her teeth.
April moved closer, careful to stay where it was less steep. She reached down to her side where she had a rope tied to her in case of emergencies. “Listen,” she ordered, trying to sound calm but also clear that she meant business, “you need to move toward me, slowly.”
More rocks slipped downhill from Grace’s feet. The entire hillside where she stood was unstable. If they didn’t move quickly, the girl would undoubtedly find herself at the center of a full, earth-shattering rockslide.
Her mind moved to the phone call she would have to make to Grace’s foster mother explaining that her daughter had been killed on April’s watch. She couldn’t make that phone call, not now and not ever.
“I said—” Grace started.
“I don’t care what you think you can do. I’m telling you, right now, if you don’t come toward me and get out of the center of that unstable rock, you will be the next thing tumbling down that hill.”
Grace shot her a look like she was trying to decide which was more important—her pride or her welfare.
The girl started to move toward April.
There were the sounds of clattering stones behind April, and she turned to see the other three kids moving toward her. “Stay back!” she ordered, louder and sounding more frightened than she had intended.
The kids behind her stopped moving, but there was the same sound of clattering rocks below them that had come with Grace’s attempt to climb.
She turned to face the small group. “I want you to start picking your way back to where you came from.”
“But, Ms. Twofeather,” Andrew argued, motioning toward the top of the mountain, clearly unaware of the situation they seemed to be finding themselves in—one she wasn’t about to explain. “I didn’t come this far to give up now.”
“Just follow my orders,” she countered, her heart racing as she watched another rock give way, which caused a little rockslide below her. “Go back. Now.”
Andrew frowned, but then motioned for the group to follow him back. She watched as they moved, but she was careful to stay still in an attempt to mollify the groaning and shifting mountain.
There were old tales of miners who were looking for rich deposits of Montana gold and silver who heard the mountain call to them before tragedies would strike. Often, the miners would hear moans and thumping that they called “Tommyknockers,” and they had become so well-known that miners would rush to evacuate their shafts.
She turned back to Grace as she attempted to get her heart rate under control.
April wanted to move to the girl, to anchor her with the rope so that they would have their combined strengths in case something happened, but adding more pressure to the crumbling slope was foolish. “Come my way, Grace,” she said, speaking softly like to a newborn foal.
There was a moan, but the sound didn’t come from Grace or any human. Her body clenched at the ghostly sound. The mountain was warning.
“Hurry!” April said, motioning toward the girl. “We have to get out of here. The whole hillside is going to give way.”
Grace looked down the mountain. Her hands searched for her next grip as the rock beneath her started to slip.
“Come!” April stood her ground though she wanted to lunge toward Grace and save her.
Grace sprang from the rock and scrambled toward her as the rocks beneath her started to move like sand, sinking and pulsing with each step and pull.
As Grace got near, April grabbed for her, but as she did, the mountain beneath her crumbled.
Neither was safe.
There was no one coming to their rescue, no one who could rescue them. Her feet slipped as she moved to cover Grace with her body.
“Hold on to me. Don’t let go,” she ordered, pulling Grace into her embrace as the world around them fell to pieces.
Grace cried out with fear. It felt as though they were atop a concrete wave. The world spun. Pain rattled through April’s body as she flipped and turned, crashing against the ground. A rock hit her hard in the ribs, making a cracking sound.
The dust created by the granite stones hitting one another, filled with shimmering mica, coated her mouth and skin like wayward glitter.
Falling, Grace’s arms tightened around her, her nails digging into her flesh.
They weren’t going to make it out of this alive.
The mountain they had come to conquer was now hell-bent to destroy.
Chapter Two
Sean McCormack was attempting to sleep. These days, every moment seemed to be filled with either the needs of his job as a firefighter or those of his group at Big Sky Search and Rescue. They’d had three callouts this week, all lost hikers. In the last seven days, Sean had hiked more than seventy miles.
He was exhausted.
Yet, as he thought about the last call—an elderly couple who’d gotten turned around on a trail and found themselves five miles farther into the backcountry than they had intended—he found it nearly impossible to sleep. He pinched his eyes closed, trying.
On his last shift at the firehouse, he’d been up for so many hours that he wasn’t sure he hadn’t seen an Oompa Loompa skipping around in their kitchen—then again, that could have been his buddy Steve who loved acting a fool when they had downtime. The lucky bastard.
Sometimes it felt like he still lived in a frat house, albeit this time there were both men and women. Everything was always moving no matter the time, things were in a constant state of needing repair, there were unidentifiable smells and everyone was always hungry. The biggest difference was the lack of kegs. Many of the younger guys made up for this on their off time, though, and one even prided himself on brewing his own craft IPAs like he was Hank Schrader from Breaking Bad—complete with a few bottles blowing up in his garage and pissing his wife off in the process.
Yep, I’m never going to sleep.
His phone buzzed on the bedside table. He sat up and rubbed his face. The bed creaked under his weight, a victim of too many sleepless nights.
He clicked on the notification on his phone. There was a missing woman and girl, known victims of a rockslide on the back side of Lone Mountain, just outside the ski resort’s boundaries. The peak was more than eleven thousand feet above sea level, and it was a hell of a backbreaker. Most people didn’t make it to the top, as the easiest route up was nearly vertical and so high that the peak was well above the tree line.
He let the SAR group know that he was available and would take the callout.
They’d meet at the trailhead where they’d be briefed about the situation, and each given their assignments.
Do we have an ID on the vics? he texted Cindy DesChamps, the head of SAR.
