“There’s Powers. Hurry up, for God’s sake.” A man’s voice, harsh, rough, coming from around the turn on the trail ahead.
She stopped in surprise. What the hell? It couldn’t be a camper in this time of crisis, but it could be one of the engineers or scientists who had been examining the remains of the dam. She slowly moved closer.
“That’s it. Let’s go.” Another voice, deeper, guttural.
“Keep your flashlight on to guide him in.”
The helicopter was louder, descending, almost overhead. Still no lights.
Something was definitely not as it should be.
She edged into the trees as she rounded the bend. Two men were standing in the clearing where Ken had dropped her, their flashlights held shoulder-high. A helicopter was now hovering close to the ground.
As it landed, a bright light pierced the darkness. Her gaze flew to the sky. Ken’s helicopter. The other helicopter had been so close she hadn’t noticed the sound of Ken’s approach.
But she saw it now. Ken’s lights beamed down on the helicopter and the men on the ground, lighting the glade with daylight clarity. It illuminated not only the men’s features, but the rage and the fear in their expressions.
One man was shouting at the pilot. She couldn’t hear the words, but she saw the pilot lift a rifle.
My God, he was pointing—
A fiery explosion lit the sky as the bullet hit Ken’s helicopter’s gas tank.
“No.”
She didn’t know she screamed the word until the taller man whirled to face the trees where she was standing.
She ran.
She heard an oath and then a crashing in the bushes behind her.
She zigzagged through the trees.
Don’t go up the trail. She’d be trapped on the pinnacle.
Down the slope toward the flooded valley.
A bullet whistled by her ear.
They were closer.
Her chest was heaving as she struggled for breath.
The slope was steep here, and she lost her footing and slid ten feet down the incline.
“We don’t have the time. Powers wants us out of here. Get back to the helicopter and let it bury the bitch.”
She risked a look over her shoulder as she got to her feet. They had turned and were climbing back up the slope. Then they were out of sight.
She couldn’t believe that they’d just abandoned the hunt and gone back up the slope. She had to get to the bottom of the hill and try to get across the flooded valley.
But why had they left? Why had they run out of time?
Let it bury the bitch.
Bury.
Let it bury
—Jesus.
The ground rumbled and then moved beneath her feet. She glanced up at the top of the hill. Huge rocks were tumbling toward her down the hill.
Landslide.
It would be on her in seconds. No time to get out of the way.
Bury the bitch.
Bury the bitch.
She’d be
damned
if she let those bastards bury her. Screw them.
She tore off her backpack and dropped it to the ground. She ran to the edge of the slope and jumped the thirty feet into the floodwaters below.
St. Joseph’s Hospital
Denver, Colorado
She knew where she was the moment she opened her eyes.
Lord, she hated hospitals. They reminded her of that night when her father—
“Hey, it’s about time you woke up.” Sarah Logan smiled down at her. “How do you feel?”
How did she feel? She hurt all over and she was seeing Sarah through a haze. “Dizzy.”
“You should be. You got clunked by some debris that washed up on that roof you were clinging to and got a dandy concussion. You’ve been unconscious for almost twenty-four hours.”
“Water?”
“You don’t remember?”
She tried to concentrate through the pain. Swimming. She had been swimming. Dirty water. She had tried to climb to the top branches of a tree jutting out of the flood, but the branch had broken. She vaguely remembered managing to clamber to the roof of one of the housetops. “Some of it. I don’t remember being hit on the head. Is that all that’s wrong with me?”
“Bruises everywhere. Exposure. You must have been in that water for hours before they spotted you on the roof. You’re a mess.” She took Alex’s hand. “And you’re going to have to explain to the authorities how you got that way. Ken Nader’s helicopter blew up and crashed in a glade across the dam. Do you know anything about it?”
A rifle lifting, aiming at Ken’s helicopter. A fiery explosion that lit the sky.
“They shot him.”
Sarah stiffened. “What? Who shot him?”
“There were three men. I think . . . it was the pilot who shot him. They did it. . . . I couldn’t believe it.” She closed her eyes. Running. Slipping and sliding down the slope.
Bury the bitch.
Her lids flew open. “Landslide. There was a landslide, wasn’t there? Was anyone else hurt?”
Sarah shook her head. “But the entire area is buried under a mountain of rock.”
“They wanted it buried. They did something . . .”
“What?”
“I don’t know. Dynamite? No, it wasn’t an explosion. I heard a low rumble and then the rocks—I don’t know what they did.”
“No one heard an explosion. Not after the helicopter crashed.”
“They did it. I know they did it.”
“I’m not saying they didn’t. I’m saying no one heard it.”
“You believe me?”
“I’m scared to believe you. I hope you’ll go back to sleep and when you wake up you’ll tell me this was a bad dream. If you don’t, then, yes, I’ll believe you.” She patted Alex’s hand. “I’ve got to go back to the site. It’s time for my shift. You get some rest. After this is over, I want you to come home with me and recuperate. You’ll like our place. It’s on the ocean and it’s very peaceful.”
“How’s the rescue operation going?”
“Okay. Three more canine rescue teams arrived yesterday, and they’re a big help.” She paused. “We found Janet Delsey’s parents. They’re both dead.”
“Damn.” She felt the tears sting her eyes. “God, I’m sorry.”
“We all are.”
She swallowed hard to ease the tightness of her throat. “I need to get back. When can I get out of here?”
“A day or two. You’ll have to talk to the police first. They want to make out a report on the helicopter crash.”
“Murder. It was murder.”
“Then tell them that.” She leaned forward and brushed a kiss on Alex’s forehead. “I’m glad you’re still in one piece. You scared me.”
“I want to see the police now.”
“I’ll call them when I leave. Though I think you should give it a few hours.”
“It’s been too long already.” Her lips tightened. “Ken would be alive now if I hadn’t asked him to take me over that gorge and pick me up. I want those bastards caught. I can’t let them—” She inhaled sharply as a thought occurred to her. “If they set that landslide, couldn’t they have started the other one that buried the entire town?”
Sarah nodded grimly. “A very nasty possibility. But no one’s found traces of any sabotage. I hope to hell you’re wrong.”
“I do too. Why would anyone . . .” She shook her head. “I can’t think. Nothing makes sense.”
“Rest. You’re still pretty woozy. Just tell the police what happened and let them put the pieces together.”
She didn’t know if she could do anything else, Alex thought wearily. Her head was pounding and all she could see was Ken’s helicopter exploding. . . . “Thanks for coming, Sarah.”
“Hey, we’re friends. You’d have been here for me. May I do anything else for you?”
“Camera . . . Lost my camera . . . Could you get me a replacement and special lenses until I’m able to choose one for myself?”
“Sure. I know what you use. And I may do such a good job of choosing one for you that you’ll decide to keep it.” Sarah moved toward the door. “Now, I’ve got to go collect Monty from the security guard in the gift shop downstairs before he’s spoiled rotten. Everyone in the gift shop was giving him belly rubs.” She glanced back over her shoulder. “I’ll be back tomorrow morning. If you need me, call me on my cell phone.”
“I know what kind of pressure you’re under. You don’t have to come back here.”
Sarah grinned. “I don’t have to do anything. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
BODY OF LIES
A Bantam Book
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
PUBLISHING HISTORY
Bantam hardcover edition published April 2002
Bantam export mass market edition published September 2002
Bantam domestic mass market edition / March 2003
Published by
Bantam Dell
A Division of Random House, Inc.
New York, New York
All rights reserved
Copyright © 2002 by Johansen Publishing LLLP
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 2002052800
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eISBN: 978-0-553-89716-6
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