27. Twenty-Seven

"Can't see a damn thing in this rain," Wattson mumbled as we crested another ridge.

He was right. The storm was the worst thing that could've happened. It'd washed away any tracks, and the risk that we'd lame the horses was even higher since it was dark. The thunder and lightning had spooked the dogs more than once, and the rain had probably washed away Dante's scent. Tracking him at night in a storm was impossible, but I had to try.

"A little rain's not the end of the world." Bowie passed me the night vision binoculars he'd paused to look through. "See anything?"

I took the binoculars and peered out at a world bathed in shades of green and white. From the top of the ridge, I spied a stream below, but there was nothing else except trees and leaves as far as I could see.

"They'll be searching for shelter," I said and passed the binoculars back.

"We should too." Wattson yanked his glasses off and tried to clean the rain from them for the fifth time. "We should wait for the storm to pass, or at least for daylight. "

"No. We have to keep going." I urged my horse down from the steep ridge.

"We can't save Dante if we're dead!" Wattson shouted after me.

I didn't listen. Every minute we sat up on that ridge arguing about what to do was another minute Dante was in danger. Another minute Oscar had him. My fists tightened around the reins and I let myself imagine it was Oscar I was choking the life out of.

Bowie caught up with me first. "Slow down."

"They've already got a sizeable lead. We need to close that distance as soon as possible."

As we reached the stream, Bowie brought his horse in front of mine, blocking the path forward. "I know you want to find him, Church. We all do. But if we rush this, we're going to miss something. In this weather, the only chance we have of finding him is if we pay attention to our surroundings."

I sighed and scanned the opposite ridge, helplessness threatening to choke me. We'd lost the ATV trail shortly after it turned into the woods. The underbrush was too heavy and the rain didn't help. For a while, we followed the dogs, but it'd been a half hour since they'd indicated they had the scent. Now Trixie and Morticia just trotted around, noses to the ground, whining occasionally. I didn't know what signs Bowie thought we might miss if we moved faster because I didn't think there were any signs to miss. We must've gone the wrong way.

I was about to tell him as much when a shot rang out. Wood splintered on a nearby tree trunk as the bullet hit. On instinct, Bowie and I dropped from the horses as fast as we could and hit the mud, hugging the ground as low as possible.

"You okay?" I whispered to Bowie.

He nodded and adjusted his hat. "You? "

"I'm not hurt." I glanced behind us. "Where's Wattson?"

There was no sign of him on the ridge or on the hill headed down toward us, but I didn't think Oscar's shot had hit him. At least, I hoped not.

"Don't come any closer!" Oscar shouted from up on the ridge.

I lifted my head, hoping to catch sight of him, but another shot thundered through the trees and dirt erupted just inches from my hand.

"I'll shoot you! I'll fucking do it now! I've got nothing to lose!" Oscar's choked sobs echoed down the hill.

Nothing to lose? My stomach turned. He couldn't mean… No. Dante was alive. He had to be. I couldn't believe anything less. I wouldn't.

I swallowed my fear that the worst had already happened. "Where's Dante, Oscar? He's all we want."

There was a beat of silence before Oscar let out a choked sob. "All I wanted was for us to be together. I never wanted to hurt him. I never wanted this…"

I lifted my head from the dirt and a chill went through me as I watched Oscar put the gun to his head. I shot to my feet and screamed for him to stop. If he shot himself, we'd never find Dante, but I was too far away to stop him, even if I ran at full speed up that hill.

Lightning flashed. Behind the growl of thunder booming through the sky above came the gallop of hooves in the dirt. Wattson appeared on the opposite ridge next to Oscar. The horse reared. The gun went off and Oscar stumbled back a step, but I couldn't tell which had happened first until I reached the top of the hill. By then, Wattson had already dismounted. Oscar was bleeding from the side of his head, and he was dazed, but he was still alive. He blinked when he saw me and rolled, reaching for the gun he'd dropped .

I stomped my foot down on his wrist, pinning it in place. "Where is he?"

"Fuck you!" He tried wildly to pull his arm free, but I was too heavy, and he couldn't swing his other arm over far enough.

Wattson grabbed the gun from where it fell and stepped back.

"Nice moves, doc," Bowie offered as he took the gun from Wattson.

I lifted my foot and Bowie helped me haul Oscar up. He howled in pain as we twisted his arms behind his back, tying them in place with a zip tie. The one I'd been standing on was broken, but I didn't give a damn. We needed to find out what he'd done to Dante.

As soon as he was secure, I grabbed him away from Bowie and shook him hard. "Where is he? Where is Dante?"

Oscar just hung his head and shook it. "I invoke the fifth amendment!"

"Nice try, fuckwit!" I slammed his back into a nearby tree trunk, making him hiss in pain. "I don't give a bloody rat's arse about the damn American constitution. You're going to tell me where he is and what you've done or I'm going to start breaking pieces of you off. Do you understand me? Now where is he?"

Wattson grabbed my shoulder. "Look at him, Church. He's soaked."

"Of course he is. It's raining."

"He's right," Bowie added. "We're all wet, but the trees have kept a lot of it off of us. His jeans are so soaked, they're practically falling off of him, and he's lost his shoes. He's been somewhere else."

I grabbed Oscar by the hair and yanked his head back. "Where did you take him?"

Oscar gritted his teeth. "You'll never find him. He's gone."

I couldn't think. I couldn't even breathe. All I knew was that this monster had done something to Dante and that if he didn't talk, I'd never see him again. No more of his teasing, or his crooked smiles. No more soft songs played just for me. No more tea with pleasant company or any of his constant overblown flattery when it came to my cooking. I'd never hear his laugh again, or that exasperated sigh. He'd be gone forever, and I wouldn't even have a body to mourn.

Before I knew what I was doing, I had my hand around Oscar's throat and I was screaming in his face. "Tell me where he is! Tell me, dammit!"

It took both Bowie and Wattson to pull me off of Oscar, and by that time, his face was blue. Oscar collapsed, gasping in the mud while my brothers in arms held me back.

"You'll never get anything from him if he's dead, Christian!" Wattson shouted, stepping between us.

I glared past him at where Oscar was sputtering in the mud. He was right, but that didn't make me want to murder Oscar any less. You're wasting time, Church. Finding Dante is more important than killing Oscar. Think. There has to be another way.

I blew out a breath, trying to calm myself, and turned to Wattson. "You call back to base camp and see if they've found anything useful on Dante's phone. Bowie, take the dogs and scout ahead, see if there's any cabins or caves nearby where they might've taken shelter."

Wattson nodded and stepped away, bringing the satellite phone to his ear.

Bowie was a little more hesitant. He put his hands on his hips and frowned at me. "You sure you can handle him by yourself?"

I gave Oscar a hard glare. "I can handle him."

Bowie nodded and held my gun out to me. "Just in case he gets any stupid ideas about running."

While Bowie found his horse and Wattson called back to the base camp, I checked Oscar's restraints. Part of me wanted to go with Bowie to find Dante, but there was also a part of me that was afraid of what we might find. The image of Dante lying dead at the bottom of a ravine kept flashing through my mind, haunting me.

Trixie trotted off after Bowie, but Morticia had stayed with me. She circled Oscar, ears back, emitting a low growl every time he moved.

"You should just kill me," Oscar mumbled.

"If anything's happened to Dante, you might get your wish." I stopped in front of him, wiping rain from my face. "Tell me where you took him, Oscar. There's still a chance we can save him."

His jaw trembled, and he looked away.

I grabbed his face and turned him back to me. "Just tell me the truth, Oscar. Did you…" God, I couldn't even get the words out. "Did you hurt him?" When he didn't answer, I slammed my fist into the tree trunk beside his head and shouted, "Did you hurt him?"

"Untie me and I'll take you straight to him," Oscar finally said.

Bad idea. If I untied him, he might attack me again, or run off, but he was the only one who knew where Dante was. We could search the forest for days and never find him, even in ideal conditions. With the rain, the mud, and my throbbing head, the chances that we'd find Dante alive without Oscar's help were slim at best.

"Tell me where he is and then I'll untie you," I offered.

He shook his head. "No deal. Even if I told you, you'd never find it. I have to show you."

I glanced over my shoulder at Wattson, trying to decide what to do. It was a second, maybe two, but that was long enough. Oscar took off running through the forest.

I spat a curse and raced after him, shouting for Wattson to follow. Oscar ran along the ridge, incredibly nimble for a guy with a broken arm and his hands tied behind his back. He charged through tree branches, sending them snapping back into my face. Morticia raced past me and lunged with a growl. I thought for sure she had him, but he somehow evaded the dog's jaws. Morticia let out a pained whine as she lunged again and got caught in a thorn bush.

I stopped by the dog. Dammit, Boone would kill me if anything happened to his precious mutt, but Oscar was getting away. I winced and did my best to pull the thorny branches away from Morticia while trying to track the direction Oscar was running in.

Wattson slid to a stop next to me. "Go," he shouted. "I'll get her loose!"

I left the dog in good hands and ran after Oscar.

By the time I caught up to him, I was breathing hard and sweat stung my eyes. I stumbled through a veil of vines. The forest abruptly ended on the other side, and I slid to a stop atop a flat sandstone rock. The roar of a nearby waterfall filled the air. Oscar stood on the edge of a cliff, looking down over a drop that was easily over a hundred feet into a shallow pool of choppy water.

"Oscar," I said and extended my hand. "Come away from the ledge."

He looked back at me and the look on his face said he wasn't coming back. "It's the only way we can be together."

"Don't do this," I said and took a step forward.

Without another word, Oscar turned and threw himself off the cliff into the rocky pool below. I raced to the edge to look down, but there was no sign of him on the rocks. There was only the churning white water far below.

"Jesus," came Wattson's voice from behind me. "Did he…?"

I stepped back from the cliff. "There's no way he could have survived that, but just to be safe, call back down to base and get someone out to search downriver for a body. I'm going to go find Bowie. Now that we've lost the only lead we had, he's our best chance to find Dante."

"Wait." Wattson put his hands out to stop me. "He wasn't the only lead. Leo and Xavier were able to brute force their way into Dante's phone. It's paired to another device, one they believe he might be wearing. Did he have on a watch?"

I closed my eyes and tried to remember. I'd seen him with one of those smart watches on when he first got off the plane, but not since we'd arrived at the cabin. He'd complained it was useless since there was no Wi-Fi. Maybe he'd put it back on when we were getting ready to leave.

My eyes snapped open, and I grabbed Wattson by the shoulders. "Can they use it to track his location?"

Wattson nodded. "Within a few meters, yes. If he's wearing it, that is."

"It's the best lead we've got. Tell them to get those coordinates to us ASAP!"

"Already done," he said, but the way Wattson said it, it sounded like there was more.

"What?" I asked, lifting my hands. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"The coordinates are static, Church. Wherever he is, he's not moving."

I knew what he was trying to say. There was a chance that Dante was gone. Maybe Oscar had killed him and then thrown himself off the cliff so they could be together in death.

But I couldn't believe that. Dante had to be alive, and I was going to find him.