How would she get there to pick it up?

  Without putting someone at risk for having been associated with her?

  And then it hit her. She needed to call the sawmill. She could disguise her voice, just ask for the production manager. Perhaps pose as a lawyer, with the threat of a lawsuit. Or a doctor. Some kind of call that Kyle would definitely want to take.

  Or make someone at the mill more apt to give Kacey a number where she could reach him if he wasn’t there to come to the phone.

  She doubted Kyle was at work. But her brother was always available to the mill by phone.

  Always.

  Feeling energized, purposeful, she stood on the boulder, on top of the world, albeit hidden by the leafy six-foot ground cover in front of it, and dialed.

  There was hope in her voice as she tipped it up an octave, gave it her rendition of a Southern accent and asked for Kyle Ashland.

  Only to be told that her brother was no longer working there.

  Phone off again, Kacey sat.

  Alone in the desert wilderness, with late afternoon turning into early evening, she had no time to get back to Devon’s before darkness fell and the desert’s live creatures came out for the night’s hunt.

  Not that she was going back to the cabin.

  Or to Devon.

  She had to take care of herself. Rely only on herself.

  There was a solution to every problem. It was up to her to solve, not need.

  So why was her heart crying out in such a desperate way for a man who couldn’t trust her?

  One who’d taken her in, tended to her ankle wounds, provided her with clothes, given her a gun and a phone, driven her to call her brother, helped her identify—through bar surveillance footage—at least one of her abductors...

  She couldn’t go back there. That look in his eye when he’d told her about Kyle’s blood on the knife...if Devon was convinced that she’d stabbed a man, he’d turn her in to the police. And do all he could to see that she was treated fairly.

  The man had a code of honor like none other.

  Not only would she then be in the custody of the people who very likely betrayed her when she’d turned in the bloody weapon to begin with, but if she were to be charged with a felony, she’d lose her job.

  Her career.

  She could lose her home next door to her mother. Her insurance benefits...

  Panic swirled, making her light-headed...

  Or was it the heat?

  She had to drink. Took a sip. Then another.

  She had to find a place to spend the night. Maybe if she climbed a tree. And drifted off to sleep and fell out?

  Under some brush?

  Prey to any animal that happened upon her?

  If she could find a small mountain cave...the early settlers in the area had lived in them. Centuries ago.

  Standing again, using her boulder to peruse the mountainous landscape rather than the river side, she sought out the most likely source for an overnight dwelling.

  Saw a couple of ground level indentations in the distance. There was no way to know if they’d suffice until she reached them. But she had a plan. A step to take.

  And so she started taking them. One at a time. One foot in front of the other.

  With one thought in mind.

  She was not going to die.

  * * *

  Kyle Ashland was nowhere to be found. He hadn’t been to the mill where he worked since the day Kacey had witnessed the argument outside her bedroom window. Was no longer employed there.

  His residence on-site still appeared to have his possessions in it, but no one had seen him there in days.

  His wireless number had been disconnected, by him, the day Kacey had called him.

  Devon didn’t ask how Sierra’s Web had come by the information revealed to him during a phone call as he drove, but he knew that whatever the means, no laws had been broken. The integrity of Sierra’s Web was one thing he knew he could trust.

  He also suspected Kacey’s twin was going off-grid. Maybe forever.

  Which left Kacey—and eventually her mother and little sister, too—hanging out to dry.

  Most particularly if Kacey was going with him.

  Or was murdered because of him.

  As the sun moved dangerously closer to the horizon, giving him only a few hours left to find any sign of his missing houseguest before darkness fell, Devon debated going to the local police for help. If she was hurt, or...

  What?

  She was a free woman. She’d obviously chosen to leave his place of her own accord. No one else had been on the property to shut off the security system.

  Stopping back by his place on his back-and-forth grid search across the desert, he grabbed more water for himself—leaving the extra he’d already thrown in the cooler in the event that he found her hurt out in the desert—and grabbed some fruit, too. Turning back to the cupboard when he remembered her granola bars. The woman couldn’t get through a day without one of them.

  The box wasn’t there.

  It was empty, in the trash.

  There’d been at least six bars left that morning. He’d grabbed one for himself, but, thinking of how they’d left things the night before, had put it back.

  On his way out, passing his bedroom door, he hesitated. Glanced in, remembering the hours they’d spent on that bed before Sierra’s Web had called with the news about Kyle’s blood on the knife.

  The rug he’d thrown on the bed...ruined the memory. With the water balanced with one hand and arm against his chest, he grabbed the edge of the rug. Threw it to the floor. Just like he needed to do with the myriad feelings he couldn’t seem to escape where Kacey was concerned.

  Something fluttered on the bed.

  A piece of paper.

  He grabbed it.

  Read the two lines.

  I apologize for shutting down your security system. Thank you for all that you’ve done for me.

  It was signed simply, K.

  A goodbye letter.

  Clearly.

  He had to let her go.

  Chapter 24

  The second cave worked. It took Kacey a couple of hours to get there and get settled. She’d turned on her phone only for a few seconds to use the flashlight to scope out the small crater space, making certain that the enclosure ended at the six feet or so in, as it had appeared, and that she wasn’t sharing it with any critters. Next had been finding and hauling in the soft brush and leaves she’d used for a cushion to sit on. Then setting up piles of rocks under a randomly running perimeter of brush set haphazardly around the opening. Nothing would get close without her hearing stones move. And finally, pulling part of a fallen tree, and breaking other taller branches from ground plants to create a door in front of her.

  Satisfied that she’d done all she could, she stood at the entrance where she’d be more likely to have service and turned her phone back on only long enough to try Kyle one more time.

  For all she knew he’d taken his SIM card out of his phone and was putting it back in only when needed. She had no idea how those things worked, in terms of a wireless phone with a no-longer-in-service message. Hadn’t ever had cause to care.

  Receiving the same message a third time, she turned off her phone midway through the verbiage. Battery was at seventy percent. She needed to conserve. Had no idea what the next days would bring.

  The lack of phone left her with nothing but shadow inside the cave to keep her company. And an imagination that kept her picking her feet up and putting them down, brushing the area around her little makeshift mat with a big leaf on a twig. Sweeping up her area, she told herself. All in an attempt to make certain that no spiders or scorpions were getting close to her.

  When she started thinking about rattlesnakes, she stood up. Nearly hit her head. Went out and grabbed more twigs, searching until she found a few logs big enough to fit across the front of the cave, dragged them over. Put some pebbles in her two empty water bottles and balanced them on top of the makeshift half door. If nothing else, a slithering ground animal would inadvertently topple the bottles, alerting her, were she to have a trespasser during the night.

  About an hour into the darkness, early enough that she could see still the light of deep dusk outside, she heard the snort.

  Knew it from the night she and Devon had met up with the pack of javelinas. Remaining completely still, she hardly dared breathe. The forty-pound smelly animals didn’t hunt humans. She wasn’t in their path. She should be fine as long as she didn’t somehow make them feel threatened.

  When she felt pretty certain that the danger had passed, she cried a little. Only a few tears. She wouldn’t waste the liquid.

  But, damn. How had life gotten so completely out of whack? She’d gone to bed a regular daughter, sister, first-grade teacher. Had woken to ugly voices out her window.

  And everything had changed.

  In that blink.

  And Devon?

  She’d never in her life slept with a man without going on several dates, first. And she’d never fallen in love.

  Not that she was saying she had with Devon, either.

  But she’d come close.

  She missed him.

  Wondered what he’d done when he’d seen her note.

  If he’d seen it yet.

  He could still be with Rachel at the bar, for all she knew. She hadn’t seen him all day. Another few hours and it would have been a full twenty-four since she’d laid eyes on him.

  So, what, she was going to count the hours with him, now? Or the hours after him?

  Shaking her head, she nixed that idea.

  Had it really been three mealtimes ago since he’d slid hungrily on top of her? Inside her?

  Was she going to sit there all night and torture herself?

  Something touched her ankle. Jerking back, she slapped her hand against the skin. Felt nothing but...herself. No bug. No bite.

  Kyle, where are you?

  Thoughts she’d been fighting so hard to keep at bay were caving in on her.

  Was her brother dead?

  He couldn’t be. She’d know. Right?

  Twin thing.

  She didn’t know.

  Whether he was alive.

  Or if he wasn’t.

  And her mom and Lizzie? They’d be gone at least a week. But after that? Since it was summer, and Lizzie wasn’t in school, had Kyle booked them longer?

  She missed them both.

  Tears sprang to her eyes again as she thought of her little sister’s sweet blue-eyed face, with the soft long blond hair falling around her. She still had a bit of a baby face, with cheeks not quite matured into their final shape.

  Lizzie was bright. And funny.

  She hated that everyone in the family had known Steve Ashland but her.

  And loved having her big sister at school with her. Every chance she got, she visited Kacey’s class on her way to recess or during lunch. Rode to school with her. And came down to Kacey’s room and waited for Kacey to take her home, too.

  Outside had grown as black as the interior of her refuge. Shadows lurked everywhere. The moon’s glow hadn’t yet come over the mountain to bathe anything in light.

  She needed the light. Turned her phone on long enough to see the time. And then, walking just short of the opening of the small cave, turned and surveyed her abode. To check more carefully for any little live creatures. The light helped. She’d burn a little battery.

  Checked her ankle. Scratched at it again.

  Grabbed a granola bar, sat back down, unwrapped the top, took a bite, but practically choked trying to swallow it.

  She sipped water to wash it down. Quickly recapped the bottle. She had no idea how long she was going to need to make it last.

  Turned off her phone.

  She’d head to the river in the morning. Swim downstream until she came to some form of civilization. Or could flag a boat on the water.

  She had a plan.

  She was not going to die.

  * * *

  Devon was just finishing up frying some fish for dinner when his phone buzzed a 911 from Sierra’s Web. They’d identified the man Kacey claimed was one of her kidnappers. He was a well-respected man from a small Utah town. And the CEO of the mill in Arizona where Kyle Ashland had been employed. He was also CEO of two other sawmills. One in Utah. One in Colorado.

  The man had money. Not enough to be famous, but enough to live well. Owned a home in a well-to-do neighborhood in his hometown. Had a summer ranch house. A houseboat.

  And took his family vacationing in the Caribbean every winter, based on their social media accounts. He was a family man.

  Not a kidnapper.

  There was also no physical evidence of him being in Bullhead City. In Arizona.

  Or in a bar in a marina anywhere on the Colorado River.

  No credit card usage. No gas receipts. No flight records.

  The one thing that rang true from any information he’d had on the kidnapper, was that the man was on a fishing expedition with a couple of his friends.

  Except that Eli Sanders was in northern Colorado. Staying at a friend’s cabin. Off the grid.

  A yearly sabbatical they’d been taking since high school.

  The next piece of information he and Hudson discussed in more depth was equally unsettling.

  They’d known Kyle Ashland no longer worked at the mill, his place of business since giving up his football career to help his family.

  But had the man been fired, become a disgruntled ex-employee?

  Had Kacey been trying to get her brother to see sense and things had gotten out of control?

  Or, more likely, had her brother been trying to make up the money he was missing from his lost job by peddling cheap drugs via porno flicks?

  His mind was racing so fast he almost missed Hudson saying, “that burner phone you wanted us to trace. It has to be on long enough for us to pinpoint a tower.”

  So if she’d talked to her brother, she’d known not to make the call too long.

  “It was just on long enough,” the man told him. And Devon turned off the oil cooking his fish. Ready to rip into the man for not giving him that information, first.

  Not that Hudson would have any reason to know which piece of information was more important to Devon. On the face of things, the Kyle information was... “And?” he asked as he slowed himself down.

  “It’s connected to Wi-Fi so as soon as it stayed on long enough, we were able to triangulate the number to a small tower out in the desert. Only has a range of about two miles. Apparently, it was put there for a fairly sizable RV park by the mountain. The park’s only open during the wintertime so activity on that tower is pretty much nil.”

  A closed RV park? Any that he’d been in had public restrooms. Showers. Even with the water off, it would offer shelter.

  A hiding place.

  “How close can you get me to the phone?”

  “It’s off again, so I can’t do that. But I can tell you the coordinates, within six feet, of where it was when it was on.”

  Grabbing his keys, Devon was still on the phone when he headed out into the night.

  * * *

  She wasn’t going to lie down. Kacey had made that determination from the beginning. She was sitting up with her back to the end wall of the cave. Facing the entrance, with her gun beside her.

  After she’d settled in, telling herself she had to get some rest, she’d sat there practicing with the gun’s location. Closing her eyes and reaching for it. Moving it an inch and trying again.

  Before she was allowed to sleep, she had to be able to pick up the gun, having it pointed at the entrance, with her finger on the trigger, all in one move. In one second.

  No fumbling.

  She’d ended up with the side of the butt of the pistol up against her leg.

  The weight of it there gave her comfort. Almost like it was a live companion. A gift from Devon.

  And she could use her leg to hold the gun steady as she grabbed it.

  Satisfied, she’d just closed her eyes, panicked that sleep wasn’t going to come, when she heard the unmistakable sound of rocks tumbling outside.

  Her makeshift security system.

  Just the one crunch and tumble.

  And then total silence.

  That couldn’t be good.

  Had Devon turned her in? Given the police her phone number to track? Reported his gun stolen?

  Were they coming to arrest her?

  Or worse, had her kidnappers somehow found her? Because she’d called Kyle’s phone so many times?

  Could they track that kind of thing?

  There were apps...she knew a little bit. Not nearly enough.

  The gun in her hand, pointing at the entrance of the cave, happened in one move without her even being aware of trying. She’d never shot a living organism in her life.

  But if some fiend thought she was going to be found floating facedown in the river...she’d shoot.

  She was not going to die.

  * * *

  He’d found her. A mile closer to his place than the deserted RV park. Devon stopped when his tennis shoe, set carefully down on a leaf, crunched pebbles on a bigger rock which rolled. He’d been watching every step. Not well enough.

  He’d located the makeshift wall. Had been heading toward it. And missed the perimeter of random brush.

  Over pebbles.

  He’d gotten ahead of himself.

  And Kacey Ashland was one smart woman.

  Was she in there alone?

  Or still in there at all?

  He was more than half an hour behind the phone’s ping. Surely she wouldn’t have set up a structure and then gone out alone into the pitch-black night.

  He listened for talking.