Chapter 13

THIRTEEN

STEPH CRASHED through the underbrush with a quick glance behind her. The man who’d taken her was familiar, but she couldn’t place him. The mask hadn’t helped, but his voice...

It was the same man who’d spoken to her when he’d broken into her home. Definitely not Stan. And not Benji. She let her gaze bounce from tree to tree, desperately searching for something. Anything that would give her shelter from the man chasing her.

“Stephanie, stop! You’re making this so much harder than it needs to be!”

She almost laughed through her terror. Should she apologize that she was making him work to snuff out her life? The ridiculous question flitted through her mind—a testament to her borderline panic.

Gulping a deep breath, she finally emerged from the trees and came to a wooden fence. She threw herself between the rails and beelined to the barn fifty yards away. She looked back and didn’t see her pursuer, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t see her. Pulling on all her reserves, she put on a burst of speed and rounded the side of the structure. She paused, hands on knees while she thought. He’d expect her to go in. The structure was falling down, with rotting boards on the ground and the door hanging by one hinge.

And there were probably rats inside. And bugs and snakes and...

She shuddered.

Footsteps from around the corner hitched her breath in her throat, and she scurried around the opposite side, opting to stay out of sight and pray he thought she went in to hide.

“Come on, Stephanie,” the voice said. “You don’t want to be in here. You might get hurt. Just come on out and let’s talk.”

If she didn’t get her pulse under control, all he was going to have to do was follow the thud thud of her pounding heart. And then she spotted the deer stand just beyond the barn and inside the tree line. If she climbed up and he spotted her, she’d be trapped, but she had nowhere else to go or hide. She was at a ranch that spanned at least thirty acres. But the deer stand was attached to the tree trunk and an idea took shape.

While he was busy looking for her in the barn, she raced across the open field and grabbed the ladder. It tilted back at her, and she gasped, then managed to steady it and scrambled up to sprawl across the wooden flooring. Gulping air, she peered through the rectangular gap that ran from one side to the other.

And saw him heading her way.

No, no, no.

She bit her lip. Okay then. She waited. Watched him get closer and closer. She climbed through the open space on the wall next to the tree, gripped like a true tree hugger, and inched down until she was between the open area and the bottom of the stand. Her long sleeves protected her forearms and her jeans her thighs, but she had no idea how long she could hold on because her biceps were already complaining.

Thank goodness for her twice-weekly workouts at the gym. She bit her lip and listened. When his feet hit the wood floor of the deer stand, he cursed. “Steph! Where are you, you brat? I don’t have time for this.”

His voice. She knew that voice. But who did it belong to?

She inched down the tree, whispering prayers, knowing he was looking out, searching for her. Thankfully she landed on the ground beneath the structure so he wouldn’t be able to see her. She crept over to the ladder and knocked it over. His scream of rage followed her as she took off once more through the woods.

TATE AND COLE stomped through the underbrush, following the trail left by Steph and the person after her. At least Tate didn’t need a degree in tracking to know which way they went.

“Left,” Cole said.

Tate was already heading that direction. “You think it’s Benji?”

“That’s the way I’m leaning.”

“He had help.” Tate ducked under a low-hanging branch.

“Yeah. Stan.”

“No, this has to be a whole ring. Brenda indicated she thought it was a whole group of people who worked at Bolin’s that were involved.”

“I’ll admit that it occurred to me. Embezzlement, money laundering. What else?”

“Stan liked to grow things,” Tate said. “What if he was growing more than veggies and herbs?”

“You mean like pot?”

“Yeah. It’s still illegal here, but the demand is high.” He paused. “No pun intended.”

Cole snorted and Tate let his gaze roam the area. Come on, Steph, where are you? “There,” he said, pointing, “through those trees.”

Cole pulled up. “Wait. Look. That deer stand.”

He hurried over to it and Tate followed. Cole nudged the ladder. “That’s been recently moved. Look at the ground.”

“Yeah, and footprints. Two sets leading away from here heading that way.” He pointed to the tree line just beyond.

“Let’s go.”