Freefall (17 page)

“Don’t lie to me,
cabrón.
I know you were planning to leave.”

He didn’t respond.

They were in a basic white room, probably underground. Other than two chairs, a rectangular table and a large flat-screen television, the space was empty. Gonzales picked up a remote control and turned on the screen.

Faith was lying on a bed, her hands and ankles bound. Her gag had become a blindfold. Javier could see the pulse flutter at the base of her throat as a man reached out to her. It was Gonzales.

“This was shot earlier,” Gonzales said, fast-forwarding.

She tossed water in his face and they had a rapid conversation. At one point, he touched her cheek. Gonzales paused the video there, glancing at Javier for a reaction. Javier didn’t give him the satisfaction.

He skipped through the next few minutes of Faith tearing apart the room. She sat down to eat and then headed to the bathroom, where there was another camera. The angle switched suddenly, and her body was a rainy blur behind a frosted glass shower door. When she stepped out of the stall to dry off, Gonzales reduced the speed to slow motion. The footage left nothing to the imagination.

Javier’s muscles tensed with fury. He hadn’t thought it was possible to hate Gonzales more than he had before.

Gonzales pressed a button to show a different feed. “This is live.”

Faith was sleeping in a bed. The sheets were tucked under her arms, revealing a portion of her slender back. When Nick entered the room, Javier saw red. “I’ll fucking kill you,” he said, tugging at his tied wrists. The chair scraped across the tile floor, shuddering from the force of his struggle.

“Relax,” Gonzales said. “She looks like the type of woman who enjoys rough play. Alexia did.”

“Hijo de puta,”
he growled, unable to take his eyes off Faith. As soon as she woke up, she tried to flee. Nick chased her across the room and threw her down on the bed. He got right to business, unfastening his pants.

Javier had been at his breaking point since Gonzales killed Alexia. Witnessing Faith’s attack pushed him right over the edge. Although Alexia hadn’t deserved to die, she was far from innocent. She’d sought out dangerous, powerful men and slept her way to the top. Her family had cartel connections. She’d known what kind of monster she was marrying.

Faith’s situation was different. She hadn’t courted danger. Javier had brought this violence to her, and he was devastated by the result. He might as well be in the room instead of Nick, because he’d set these events in motion.

“Let her go,” he said through clenched teeth. “I’ll do whatever you want!”

Gonzales continued to watch the scene unfold. Faith managed to hit Nick a few times, but only because he let her. If anyone enjoyed rough play, it was him.

“I’ll talk,” he promised.

Nick stopped toying with Faith and held her trapped underneath him. He shoved her legs apart and positioned himself against her.

“Please,” he roared, tears of rage filling his eyes.

Gonzales took a cell phone out of his pocket and pressed a button.
“Ya,”
he said.

Enough.

Nick removed himself from her at once. While he stood by the bed, zipping up his fly, Faith curled up into a little ball, sobbing.

Javier was going to kill him. He was going to kill Gonzales, too. Tamping down his bloodlust, for now, he pulled his watery gaze from the screen. “I wasn’t sleeping with Alexia. She approached me once. I refused her.”

“When?”

He paused, reluctant to go into detail. “On your wedding day.”

Gonzales must have already known that, because his reaction was sedate. “I was told otherwise.”

“By who?”

“Martin. He said you were meeting her in private.”

“He’s a fucking liar.”

“So are you.”

“Where’s his proof?”

Gonzales didn’t have any. If he’d seen photographic evidence of this alleged affair, Javier would’ve been dead six months ago. “There are pictures of her going into a motel room, but none of the man inside.”

“Bring Martin in here.”

“I can’t. One of the park rangers killed him.”

“Ask Nick. He knows something.”

Gonzales spoke into the phone again.
“Ven.”

When Nick joined them, his neck was flushed. He had a flesh-colored bandage on his eyebrow and Faith’s slap mark on his face. It turned Javier’s stomach just to look at him. “Did you ever see me with Alexia?”

He hesitated, but only for a second. “No.”

“Martin was the one sleeping with her,” Javier said, making an educated guess. “You ordered him to follow her, or maybe you ordered him to kill her.”

Gonzales didn’t confirm or deny the charge.

“She seduced him to survive.”

“Is that true?” Gonzales asked Nick.

“I have no idea,” Nick said, dumbfounded. “He didn’t confide in me. I would have come straight to you with information like that.”

“Where is she?” Gonzales yelled, clenching his hands into fists.

“I don’t know,” Javier said.

“Why did you shoot my pilot and run, if not to reunite with her?”

“I ran because I wanted out, and I shot the pilot because he got in the way.” Javier realized that they’d both been wrong. Gonzales hadn’t killed Alexia. He’d tried to, and she’d escaped. “This whole time, I thought she was dead. You let everyone believe that because you were too proud to admit she left you.”

And now the only man who knew the truth was gone.

“Cara de mierda,”
Gonzales roared, upending the table. He grabbed the only empty chair and threw it across the room. Alexia had cheated on him and lived, robbing him of the satisfaction of punishing her.

After a few moments of cursing and kicking the chair around, Gonzales quieted. There was nothing left to say.

“What should I do with the girl?” Nick asked.

Gonzales studied Javier, his nostrils flaring. He couldn’t reach Alexia or Martin, but he wanted to make someone pay. “Get rid of her.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

H
OPE
WOKE
AT
dawn.

Her muscles were stiff, but she felt alert and well rested. Despite her fears about Faith, she’d fallen asleep easily. Sam had screwed her into oblivion.

He was good at that.

She sat up, raking a hand through her mussed hair. He was sprawled out on his back beside her, eyes closed, chest rising and falling with deep breaths. The sight of his peaceful slumber made her heart swell with emotion. With his mouth relaxed, and his forehead smooth of worry lines, he looked younger.

The sheet rode low at his waist, tangling around one leg. His other leg was bent at the knee, naked and exposed. He had plenty of muscle, but not quite enough fat. His body was sharp-edged and rawboned, all cord and sinew.

Her eyes wandered south, between his legs, to the only soft place on him. The only hint of vulnerability, other than his face. Most of his pubic hair was showing above the thin sheet. She could see his size and shape beneath it.

She thought about tugging the expensive cotton down and rousing him with her mouth. The idea made her pulse throb and her sex tingle with anticipation. She moistened her lips, fantasizing about pressing kisses along his flat stomach and delineated hip.

He’d groan and lace his hand through her hair, murmuring...

Another woman’s name.

Hope pulled her gaze away from him, her throat tight. She slid off the edge of the bed and gathered her clothes, tiptoeing into the bathroom. As soon as she was dressed, she snuck out into the hall, careful not to wake him.

She couldn’t make the mistake of sleeping with him again. It hurt too much. If she didn’t break the cycle of getting involved with the wrong men, she’d never find happiness. She’d never start a family.

Her cell phone showed a few messages, but no news about Faith. She’d called her parents yesterday evening to explain the situation to them. They’d wanted to start driving from Ojai last night, but she convinced them to wait until morning. Although she appreciated their support, there was nothing they could do to help.

After grabbing a pastry and a coffee in the lobby, she climbed into her Jeep. Faith’s disappearance had sunk in. Hope was clearheaded now, and more determined to find her sister. Yesterday, she’d been a mess. The interrogation had gone on for hours, giving her no opportunity to form her own questions.

Hope wasn’t familiar with large-scale investigations, but the entire process had seemed arduous and chaotic. Dixon had barely made an appearance.

What had Owen been doing alone on the trail, anyway? All of the other rangers had been working with teams of sheriff’s deputies.

She took a sip of coffee, pondering. Although she wasn’t supposed to be on duty, it couldn’t hurt to poke around. Owen was probably in park housing, asleep. As she drove toward the employee cabins, her mind raced with possibilities. The drug smugglers had been able to respond to her radio transmissions. Maybe they had a partner in local law enforcement or among Long Pine’s residents.

She parked outside the men’s housing facility and glanced at the mailboxes. Owen Jackson lived in complex eight with half a dozen other workers. A sleepy young man answered the door in his underwear.

He seemed confused by her casual clothes and unannounced visit. “Ranger Banning?”

“I need to speak with Owen.”

Pointing down the hall, he beat a hasty retreat to his own quarters. She headed the direction he’d indicated, pausing at a bedroom door. It was ajar, so she peeked in, asking for Owen. None of the men in the bunks were him.

“Storage room,” one of them mumbled, rolling over.

Frowning, she continued to a door at the end of the hall. After her hesitant knock, Owen opened the door. Like everyone else in the house, he’d been asleep. He was bare-chested, wearing a pair of unbuttoned jeans.

Hope did a double take. Maybe she was still riding high on sex endorphins, because the first thing she noticed was his physique. Then the disturbing tattoos registered, including one of a burning cross over his heart.

“Sorry,” he said, stepping away from the door. Leaving it open for her, he grabbed a shirt and covered up. “I didn’t know it was you.”

She entered his room, curious. It was more of a big closet, with wooden cubbies for miscellaneous items and sports equipment. The narrow cot he’d been sleeping on took up most of the floor space. In the mornings, he probably folded it away.

He sat down on the cot, gesturing for her to join him.

“Do they make you sleep in here?” she asked.

“No.”

She wondered if the other guys gave him guff about his tattoos. If they did, that was his cross to bear. So to speak.

“I have a few questions about yesterday.”

His eyes were wary. “Okay.”

“Why were you on the trail alone?”

“I came from Mineral King.”

She understood what he meant. The station was manned by a single employee, and located in such a remote area that it didn’t always make sense to wait for a partner. “On whose order?”

“No one’s.”

“You made the decision to start hiking by yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“The teams were taking too long to get organized. It seemed like the different law enforcement agencies were...tripping all over each other.”

Hope agreed with this frank assessment, although she knew better than to voice it aloud. The National Park Service often collaborated with sheriff’s deputies, but murder was a state crime, and the FBI investigated kidnapping cases. Drug trafficking fell under the DEA umbrella. It was a multijurisdictional nightmare. Many mistakes had been made, starting with Meeks’s failure to retrieve the cargo.

“Mineral King is the closest station to Crystal Cave,” he added. “I thought you might have taken shelter there.”

“Did you ask permission?”

“No. They wouldn’t have given it.”

She rubbed her forehead, where a tension headache was forming. “Have you been reprimanded?”

“Not yet.”

NPS didn’t always reward employees for taking initiative. “Tell me everything that happened yesterday.”

He began with his run-in with Javier Del Norte, flushing as he recounted the order to take off his clothes. Apparently Del Norte had intended to steal his uniform, but changed his mind when they heard gunshots.

“He wanted to help Faith?” she asked.

“That’s what he said.”

Owen also claimed that Del Norte had assisted him in fishing an unconscious Sam out of the river. Hope hadn’t known this detail, either. She couldn’t believe Sam had climbed up Angel Wings with a concussion.

“He didn’t tell you,” Owen guessed.

“No.”

With a slight shake of his head, he continued the story. Owen had seen the men take Faith aboard a helicopter, but he didn’t get a good look at their faces.

“Describe the helicopter.”

“It was black, and seemed too small for the number of people inside.”

“How many?”

“Four. Maybe five, with the pilot.”

She wondered how far an overloaded helicopter could travel, and where it might have landed. Even a small aircraft would require a large, flat area on a remote property. There were a number of options close by.

“You gave this information to the FBI?” she asked.

“Yes.”

Hope stood, pacing the narrow space. She felt as though she was missing something obvious, like a word on the tip of her tongue, or an important detail slipping through her fingers. “What did you think of Del Norte?”

“I thought he was...scary.”

“But you ran after him anyway.”

He just shrugged, as if he’d done nothing special.

She marveled at how easily Del Norte could have killed Owen and kept going. The forest worker had shown remarkable courage in the face of danger. He’d set out on his own, saved Sam’s life and tried to help Faith. If Owen hadn’t come along to rescue Sam from drowning, Hope would be dead right now.

She owed her life to Owen, and to Del Norte, in a strange way. “Thank you,” she said, touching his shoulder.

He froze at the contact. “You’re welcome.”

She dropped her hand, aware that he was uneasy. “Have you thought about training for one of the law enforcement positions?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I have a criminal record.”

“It doesn’t necessarily disqualify you.” Bill Kruger had been in trouble with the law a few times for domestic violence, and he was a head ranger. “I can put in a good word for you with Dixon.”

Instead of accepting the offer, he changed the subject. “I hope you find your sister.”

“So do I,” she said.

He stood and walked her to the door. She promised to keep him updated before she left, squinting in the bright sunshine. It wasn’t even seven o’clock yet, but the sun had already burned through the morning clouds.

She climbed behind the steering wheel again, reaching into the glove compartment for her sunglasses. Her fingers closed around Faith’s instead. She took them out, examining the sparkly frames.

The sight brought tears to her eyes.

Just three days ago, she’d hugged Faith goodbye, promising everything would be fine. She’d left her sister scared and alone. Hope wished she could go back in time and make a different choice.

Story of her life.

* * *

J
AVIER
ROCKED
HIS
chair back and forth until it tipped over.

He landed hard on his injured shoulder. The wooden chair broke under the strain, but he couldn’t free his wrists or ankles. Pain reverberated down the length of his arm, tingling in his fingertips, making him nauseated.

Gonzales came forward and kicked him in the stomach.

Javier gritted his teeth, his muscles quivering. Nick was killing Faith right now and he couldn’t do anything about it. He couldn’t beg, or plead, or retaliate. Gonzales turned on the live feed again, seeming bored.

Faith was still lying on the bed, sobbing. Nick didn’t enter the picture. On the contrary, he reappeared in the doorway, startling Gonzales.

“Did you forget something?”

“This.” Nick raised a handgun and shot Gonzales in the chest.

He stumbled to his knees, a stunned expression on his darkly handsome face. Blood blossomed across the front of his rumpled white dress shirt. He careened forward, collapsing on a woven rug.

Dead.

It was a perfect kill shot. Almost no mess.

Nick tucked his gun away and stepped into the room. After checking Gonzales’s pulse, he removed the boss’s weapons and his money clip. Then he rolled the oval floor rug around his body, wrapping him up like a burrito.

“Who do you work for?” Javier rasped.

“Somebody else,” Nick replied.

Javier didn’t consider this new development a personal boon. He expected to be executed in short order. “I’ll pay for the girl.”

“With what?”

Unlike Gonzales, Javier wasn’t rich. He hadn’t been able to amass millions before his escape attempt. There was twenty grand waiting for him in a locker at LAX. It was the most he could save without attracting attention. “Fifty thousand.”

“I don’t want your money,” Nick said, leaving the room.

Javier lay there, staring at the bundle of Hector Gonzales. His nemesis was dead, and he felt nothing. On the screen, Faith sat up in bed, clutching the sheet to her chest. When Nick walked in, she tried to get away. He grabbed her ankle.

“No,” Javier shouted, horrified.

Nick held a syringe in his hand. He stabbed her in the thigh, holding down the plunger. After a short struggle, she went quiet.

Javier squeezed his eyes shut, crying silently, his shoulders racked with sobs.
“Perdóname, Padre, porque he pecado,”
he repeated, over and over again. He was praying for her life, his death. Any salvation.

When Nick reentered the room, he crouched down next to Javier. “A cleanup crew is coming over. We need to leave.”

“We?”

“If I untie you, can you carry the girl? She’s drugged. Sorry, I can’t have her recognizing this place.”

“I’ll carry her,” Javier said, although he wasn’t sure he could even stand.

“Good. I’m going to drop you off in the woods.”

“Why?”

Nick answered the broader question. “You could’ve killed me at the falls, but you didn’t. Now we’re square.”

Javier couldn’t agree. They’d never be square.

“I didn’t rape her,” Nick said, taking a knife from his pocket.

“I saw you.”

“I was faking.” Before he cut Javier’s bonds, he squinted at him. “You’re dispensable. I’ve been instructed to spare the girl, not you. Do you understand?”

“I’ll do whatever you say.”

Nick freed him.

“Help me with this piece of shit,” he said, gesturing at Gonzales.

Javier staggered to his feet and grabbed one end of the rug. They heaved the body up a set of stairs and loaded it in the back of a white van. When that was finished, Nick showed him to Faith’s room. He rushed to her side, almost weeping with relief. She really was alive. Her chest rose and fell with steady breaths.

Keeping the sheet tucked around her, he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the garage. He set her down next to Gonzales and climbed in, lying flat next to her. Nick drove for about five minutes before he parked behind a group of trees along a deserted road. He opened the back of the van, letting them out. “I don’t want to see you around.”

The feeling was mutual. Javier moved Faith to a bed of pine needles.

“If I were you, I’d take off now,” Nick said.

“I want to talk to her first.”

Faith moaned, her eyelashes fluttering.

Nick studied her for a moment. Rape or no rape, he’d terrorized her, and his expression showed a hint of remorse.

“Why didn’t you kill Gonzales sooner?” Javier asked.

“I had to wait for the order.” He pulled his gaze from Faith to Javier. “Maybe I’ll see you in the ring someday.”

Javier wasn’t interested in another matchup. It wouldn’t settle the score between them. “I’d rather hold you down and let her beat you.”

“I might enjoy that,” Nick mused.