Tracing a fugitive, p.6
Tracing a Fugitive, page 6
Through the haze, and the sound of rushing water, he heard a man curse. The guy named Smitty grabbed Noah by the jacket collar and pointed a gun in his face. “Give me a reason not to kill you right now.”
Noah closed his eyes. At least he’d die in a beautiful place.
Suddenly he was released.
“What—uh,” Smitty grunted.
Noah struggled to focus. He saw what he thought was Thomas in hand-to-hand combat with Smitty. It couldn’t be Thomas, they weren’t in Afghanistan, his friend wasn’t fighting an insurgent to save Noah’s life.
“Thomas.” Noah collapsed on his back, staring up at the trees bordering the river.
Moments later his view was blocked by Thomas’s concerned frown. “Are you hurt? Did you break anything?”
The sound of barking dogs grew louder. Thomas cast a worried glance over his shoulder. “You didn’t see me, buddy. Please, just go home, go back to Virginia.”
And then he was gone.
“Thomas,” Noah groaned, and passed out.
* * *
Rose wished they would have let her bring Oscar along on the search. He might have found Noah by now. Since the coltriever hadn’t been properly qualified, and wasn’t an official member of the team, the SAR leader wouldn’t approve the last-minute canine addition.
It had taken a lot of persuading to convince the detective to let her come along. With support from Simon, T.J. finally agreed not to send her away when she showed up to join the search.
They’d been following the phone signal until a half an hour ago when they’d lost it, probably due to spotty reception.
Rose was surprised when Beau joined the search, and appreciated the gesture at first. Then she wondered if he was tagging along to protect Rose from herself. Her big brother wasn’t an SAR regular, but periodically offered help tracking someone or bringing an injured hiker down from the mountains.
“Last known location is about—”
“Over there, look!” Simon interrupted T.J.
Rose glanced to where he was pointing.
Two bodies lay on the riverbank.
“That brown jacket, it’s Noah,” she said, looking for a way to cross.
“Rosie, stop,” Beau ordered.
“Base, we’ve spotted two bodies by the Grant River, about two miles south of Spring Falls. Send emergency, over,” T.J. said into his radio. “Get your sister out of there,” he said to Beau.
Rose was already crossing the river by carefully stepping on a bank of rocks that bridged to the other side.
“Rosie!” Beau said.
“Don’t disrupt my concentration.” One foot in front of the other. Well-placed steps would get her safely to the other side.
To Noah.
Please, God, let him be alive.
Beau’s words haunted her. Was she too attached to Noah, a stranger? Was she trying to prove something?
Her motivation didn’t matter. A man needed her, a fragile veteran.
She hesitated for a second, inhaling the fresh mountain air.
“What’s wrong?” Beau said. He was right behind her.
“Clearing my focus.” She glanced around, and realized a few more team members, including T.J., were following her route to the other side, while the two K-9 handlers stayed on shore.
“I’m surprised you followed me,” she said.
“Gotta look out for my baby sister,” Beau said.
“Right.” She refocused on crossing the river, shutting out the seeds of resentment from his comment. “Be careful, the rocks are slippery,” she warned.
“I know that,” he said.
A few seconds later, she heard a splash and glanced over her shoulder. Beau was waist-deep in water.
“I was hot anyway,” he said, wading to the other side.
At this rate he’d get there before Rose, which was potentially a good thing. He could assess the bodies, determine if Noah was okay and if the other guy was still a threat.
Give me strength, Lord.
Although she didn’t know Noah well, they’d made a connection, probably due to the traumatic manner in which they’d met. Or was it something else? Had God brought them together for a special purpose?
A few more steps...
Give me courage.
When she stepped onto the rocky shore, Beau was beside the stranger feeling for a pulse.
“He’s alive,” Beau said. “Beat up pretty bad.”
Sure, Noah’s kidnapper was alive, but what about Noah?
Simon joined her and they approached Noah, who lay on his back, his eyes partially open. Was he...?
Suddenly, he blinked. She bit back a gasp and kneeled beside him on the cool rocks.
“Thomas,” he said, blinking again.
“No, it’s Rose. Remain still until we can assess your injuries.”
“Rose?” He turned his head to look at her.
His blue eyes watered. With pain? Or relief to see her?
“Yes, it’s me.” She placed her hand over his.
He turned his palm up and clasped her fingers. “You’re here.”
“I’m here.”
“Where’s Thomas?”
She glanced at Simon, then back at Noah. “He’s not here. We’re in Montana, remember?”
“Your dog...found me?”
“No, I had to leave Oscar at home. He’s not qualified for SAR and the team thought he might go willy-nilly and distract the other dogs.” Once again she was rambling, but the words kept coming out because she was so relieved.
“Willy-nilly?” Noah repeated.
“Yeah, crazy, all over the place, wonky, off-the-wall. You know how Oscar is.”
“Yeah.”
Simon kneeled on the other side of him. “Sir, I have medical training. Can you tell me where you’re injured?”
“My head.”
“How about your neck, back, anything else?”
“My arm.” He nodded toward his left arm. “I fell from up there.”
That’s when Rose noticed blood seeping through the jacket. She redirected her attention to Noah’s face. He studied her, making her slightly uncomfortable.
“Okay, Rose, we’ll take it from here,” T.J. said, approaching.
Noah clung to her hand, so she didn’t move.
“The other guy...” Noah said.
“Seriously injured and unconscious.” T.J. kneeled beside Noah. “Did you do that? Did you assault him?”
Rose held her breath.
“No, sir. I can barely stand.”
“Could have sustained injuries from the fall,” Simon offered.
Another team member tended to the unconscious man.
“Who is he?” T.J. pressed.
“One of the guys that took me from the hospital.”
“What did they want?” T.J. said.
“To find Thomas.”
“And you were leading them to Thomas’s location?”
“No, sir. I don’t know where he is.” He turned away, as if ashamed.
Perhaps ashamed by his confusion when he regained consciousness and thought Rose was Thomas.
“Then why bring the men out here?” the detective asked.
“To get them away from...” He looked directly at Rose. “From innocents.”
“What can you tell me about them?” T.J. pressed.
Rose wished he’d leave Noah alone, but understood his need to work this case.
“They claimed to be with the US government.”
“And they want to find Thomas because...?”
Noah shook his head.
“I could charge you for obstructing an investigation.”
“C’mon, T.J.,” Rose said. “He’s wounded.”
T.J. ignored Rose and addressed Noah. “The sooner you shed light on any of this, the better equipped I’ll be to protect you and our community.”
“I understand, sir. But I don’t have clear answers for you, and I’m a little dizzy.”
T.J. nodded. “We’ll talk more later.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Rose nodded at T.J. as he stood. He went to check on the other man.
She felt Noah squeeze her hand and she looked at him.
“Thank you,” he said.
“T.J.’s just doing his job.”
“I meant, for finding me.”
“You’re welcome.”
“But don’t do it again. Stay away from me, Rose. Far away.”
* * *
The rest of the day had been fraught with tension and frustration. Sure, Rose had heard Noah’s request, but she couldn’t bring herself to comply.
He was so alone, and needed an ally. He was pushing her away, a behavior she’d perfected in her own life. Deep down, a part of her wished someone would have pushed their way through her carefully erected walls and offered help, compassion.
When they had brought Noah down from the mountains, he refused to be admitted to the hospital since the bad guys had found him there, and he didn’t want to risk putting others in danger again.
Bad guys. Who were they? She wished he would confide in her. Since they’d returned to town, he’d barely looked at her, much less spoken to her. It was almost as if he was ashamed.
None of this was his fault. He’d done nothing wrong.
Not easy to believe when you’ve been a victim of brutality. She sighed and continued to pet Oscar as they sat in her truck outside the police station.
Brutality. Or in her case, assault that she’d convinced herself she’d recovered from. Being around Noah had somehow triggered the hidden pain.
But this wasn’t about Rose and her mistakes.
It was about a traumatized soldier who needed help.
Helping others seemed to ease one’s own pain. She’d learned that when she offered to bring Oscar into the nursing home in Seattle for pet visits. Rose always felt better, her trauma smaller, after seeing the elderly residents’ eyes light up when Oscar approached, tail wagging, offering unconditional love to each and every person.
She hadn’t had much time for volunteer activities when she’d returned to Montana. She dedicated herself to helping her family grieve the loss of her sister and assisting with getting the guest ranch up and running again. Once they started welcoming guests, Rose wasn’t quite ready to leave, but didn’t want to slide back into old habits, unhealthy behaviors of letting her family think they could manage her life better than she could. There were moments when her family still treated her like the baby of the family, like a silly, irresponsible kid.
Rose decided to rent an apartment in town to set her boundaries because Mom, Dad and Beau didn’t believe her smart or clever enough to make good choices.
Was helping a man in danger a good choice? It definitely had been the right choice in the moment, and she hoped on some level it might finally make her parents proud: their daughter had saved a man’s life. She’d also hoped they were proud of her for starting her own business as a dog trainer and property manager when folks were out of town. In a matter of weeks, she had multiple inquiries from locals needing help with their pets and their homes. With God’s help, she’d grown her business into a self-sustaining enterprise, one she could close whenever she felt it was time to move on.
She picked up burgers and fries for both Noah and the deputy who was on duty tonight, hoping to convince the deputy to let her see Noah. She wanted him to know she hadn’t and wouldn’t abandon him.
Even though he’d ordered her to stay away.
As her mind was still processing that proclamation, her gut held firm: he needs you, like you needed someone in your darkest days.
Dark days that haunted her every now and then. If she’d learned anything from her struggles with depression, it was that being alone made things worse. She’d forced herself out and joined a self-help group that discussed sadness and depression in a safe space. In time, between the group meetings and volunteer visits with the elderly, she began to feel much better.
Being alone with your pain was not the answer.
Too bad Noah didn’t realize that. He seemed the type to embrace his isolation, to have surrendered to it. She could not live that way.
She eyed the police station and took a deep breath. If T.J. was inside, she knew she’d get an earful, another lecture from another person in her life who saw her as a flighty woman needing help, needing direction.
Well, she had direction all right. She would help Noah one more time by letting him know he was not alone, and he wouldn’t be as long as he was in Boulder Creek. Her determination to offer her assistance felt good, like she was on the right course.
The Lord had opened this door and she was walking through.
“I’ll be back, Oscar.” She grabbed the white bags of food and headed for the entrance to the building.
“I hope this doesn’t backfire on me,” she said. Would Noah refuse to see her, be angry and say hurtful things? She would brace herself for the possibility. All she could control was her actions, not how he responded to them.
Besides, she suspected his words would be born of fear: fear of Rose being pulled into this violence and getting hurt.
She hit the buzzer, glanced at the camera and held up the food bags. “Food for you and Noah Greene.” She flashed a hopeful smile.
A moment later the door clicked open, and she went inside. She ambled down the hallway past a dark office and conference room, to a lit office on the left.
“Hello?” She stepped into the office.
It was empty. Papers were scattered across a desk, and the swivel chair was pushed back.
It was like someone had left in a hurry.
She placed the bags on the desk. “Hello?”
The muted sound of Oscar barking from her truck shot chills down her spine.
“Nooo!” a man cried.
She snapped her head toward the source of the sound: the doorway leading to lockup. She crossed the room and cracked it open.
“Don’t kill me! Please don’t kill me!” Noah pleaded.
FIVE
Heart pounding, Rose shut the door and stepped back. She wanted to run but didn’t want to abandon Noah.
She darted behind a file cabinet, out of view of the door. Took a few deep breaths and processed who could get here the quickest to help Noah.
She instinctively called T.J.
Moments later, his ringtone echoed from across the room.
T.J.’s phone was here, in this room. Which meant...
Someone had hurt or killed T.J. in their effort to terrorize and kidnap Noah?
She called Emergency.
“9-1-1, what is your emergency?”
“T.J.—Detective Harper, sheriff’s office...someone’s here. They’re trying to kill Noah,” she whispered.
“Ma’am, what’s your name?”
“Rose. I’m at the station. Someone’s trying to kill—”
The door to lockup swung open. Rose stopped talking, ended the emergency call and prayed.
Seconds ticked by like hours. She heard the sound of paper rustling.
“Rose, Rose, where are you?”
She stood and saw T.J. analyzing the bag of takeout. “You’re okay?”
“Sure, what did you...what are you doing back there?”
“I heard shouting, Noah pleading for his life.”
“He’s having another episode.”
She approached his desk. More muted cries of an emotionally tortured man echoed through the door. She must have looked horrified because he said, “I called someone to give him a sedative.”
“I can help.”
“No, Rose. Let a professional handle it.”
“When is the doctor coming?”
“Not sure.”
Another angst-ridden cry made them both look at the door.
“You seriously think you can help?” T.J. said.
“I know Oscar can. Be right back.” She went to her truck and got the dog. “Noah needs you, buddy.”
She and Oscar entered the station and T.J. led them back to Noah’s cell. His breathing was quick and shallow, and his back was pressed against the wall.
“Let us in,” she said.
T.J. opened the cell door. “Go on, boy,” she said to Oscar.
The dog slowly approached Noah and stopped about a foot away. Whining, he looked back at Rose. She joined him in the cell, kneeling beside Noah.
“Right here, Oscar.” She gently tapped Noah’s thigh.
The dog edged closer.
“Hey, Noah. Look who came to see you. Remember Oscar?”
His glassy eyes were unfocused, his breathing still labored.
“You’re safe now. Oscar’s here. I’m here. Take a breath with me in—” she took a breath “—and out. Slow and steady.”
Her words didn’t seem to pierce through his trauma.
She tapped Noah’s thigh again, and Oscar placed his chin there. She took Noah’s hand and held it against the dog’s side. “Feel his breath, Noah? Feel how slow it is?”
Not that Oscar’s breath was super slow, but it was slower than Noah’s, who she suspected was having some kind of an anxiety attack.
His fingers twitched against her dog’s fur. Something was getting through.
“Slow and steady,” she said. “Inhale on the count of four.”
He blinked and looked at her. She nodded encouragement. “Count to four, inhale.” She illustrated. “Hold for four. Exhale on four. Inhale.” She counted to four, held her breath and nodded four times. Then blew out her breath.
Noah seemed to follow her lead. A buzzer echoed from the other room.
“Must be the doctor,” T.J. said, and left them alone.
Rose continued the breathing exercise with Noah. After doing this a few times, his pained expression softened, the rise and fall of his chest slowed, and his eyes seemed more focused.
