Idiot. Stupid, cowardly idiot.
Her hands fisted at her sides. To be fair, she couldn’t have reached her car. He was standing in the way, and there really had been nowhere else to go. Self-recriminations weren’t helping. She was in deep, deep trouble and had no clue how to fix it, or even whether it could be fixed. But she at least needed to try. Standing here, waiting, wasn’t accomplishing anything. It certainly wasn’t finding her missing friend or saving an officer who might be in trouble.
She took a hesitant step toward the curve, then another. Her hand itched for the security of her pistol. But, of course, the one time she actually needed her gun it was locked in the safe in her apartment. That decision, at least, she couldn’t feel bad about. There was no way she could have predicted what would happen when she drove up here in response to Tracy’s text. That she might be in danger had never entered her mind.
When she reached the curve, she squatted down by the wall of rock and peered around the edge. Her stomach sank, as if she’d plummeted down a steep roller-coaster drop. McKenzie no longer had his gun. Instead, he stood about twenty feet away from her, hands in the air. And directly in front of him was another man pointing a pistol directly at McKenzie’s chest.
The man McKenzie had handcuffed was still cuffed. But he was leaning against a tree another ten feet beyond the ranger and the other gunman. His face bore an angry, impatient expression as he watched the standoff.
McKenzie shifted slightly, revealing some bloody cuts on the right side of his face. She drew a sharp breath. All three men jerked their heads toward her. She pressed a hand to her throat, belatedly realizing she must have made a sound.
“Nice of you to join us, Jody,” the handcuffed man called out, his earlier cocky grin back in place. “Stay right where you are. Remember what I told you.” He half turned, looking over his shoulder at the other gunman as he flexed his hands. “Owen, just get the dang keys already and get these things off me. Officer Mayberry can wait.”
Jody swallowed, his earlier threats running through her mind. Somehow he’d gotten it into his head that she had something he wanted. And he was using Tracy as leverage. It stood to reason that she could do the opposite, couldn’t she? Leverage whatever he thought she had in return for Tracy’s safety? If she helped McKenzie, wouldn’t the bad guy have to keep Tracy alive until he got what he wanted?
She curled her nails against her palms. Why was she even debating with herself? It wasn’t like she could just run away. No matter what, she couldn’t ignore the fact that Adam McKenzie was right here, unarmed and outnumbered, with a gun pointed at him. He needed help. She had to do something. But what could she do?
The man named Owen had keys in his left hand now, keys that he must have taken from McKenzie. His gaze stayed on the ranger as he trained the pistol on him and backed toward the tree.
McKenzie’s gaze locked on Jody. He glanced to the right, toward the curve of rock wall and subtly jerked his head. Clearly, he wanted her to run up the path, to escape while she could.
She shook her head, even though she really, really wanted to give in to her cowardice and do exactly that—retreat, run, hide. But she’d just had this particular argument with herself. And lost.
His jaw clenched. He obviously wasn’t happy with her response. He jerked his head again.
Ignoring his unspoken command, she studied the other two men. The one with the gun was fumbling with the set of keys. Their attention was temporarily diverted. McKenzie must have realized the same thing. He edged toward her. One foot. Two feet. When he was about ten feet away, he took off running toward her.
A shout sounded behind him. He grabbed Jody’s arm and yanked her around the corner as more shouts and curses sounded.
“The cuffs, the cuffs! Hurry!” The handcuffed guy was apparently ordering Owen to remove the cuffs before they took off in pursuit.
“Go, go, go!” McKenzie’s fingers tightened around her upper arm, pulling her up the trail. When a downed tree blocked their way, he lifted her up as if she weighed nothing and leaped over the tree. He set her on her feet and they took off again.
The clomp-clomp of boots pounding up the path sounded behind them. She looked over her shoulder. The first gunman didn’t have his hands cuffed anymore. The short delay of removing them had given her and McKenzie a head start. But their lead was dwindling.
“Come on.” McKenzie pulled her around rocks, over branches, at an impossibly fast pace.
“I’m trying,” she gasped, struggling to match his long strides. She already knew she couldn’t outrun the man behind them going uphill. She’d tried once and failed. Keeping up with the tall, long-legged McKenzie was impossible.
“Stop or we’ll shoot!” the man named Owen yelled at them.
She started to look over her shoulder again. But McKenzie tugged her forward.
“Don’t look back. It’ll only slow you down.” He yanked her around another curve in the trail.
A shot rang out. Jody instinctively ducked. But McKenzie was already pulling her under some thick branches from another downed tree. He came out the other side, hopped over more branches, then lifted her over.
A bullet whined past them. She let out a startled gasp and pressed a hand to her galloping heart. Good grief, that was close. McKenzie didn’t react at all. Was the man used to getting shot at? He pulled her behind a huge boulder that was clustered with several others and pushed her down. He scanned the area around them, up the trail, out toward the open vista of mountains that alternated between blackened bald spots and new spring greenery poking up through the ashes.
The twin peaks of the Chimney Tops, two of the higher mountains in the park, stood out in stark relief from the destruction around them. She’d never even been in the park before, other than sitting in a car looking out the window as her adoptive father wheeled and dealed for yet another parcel of land. The only reason she recognized that particular landmark was because a new client had shown her pictures of them a few weeks ago and was considering hiring her to take new ones for a tourist brochure. What she didn’t understand was why McKenzie was looking at the Chimney Tops. It wasn’t like they had a helicopter and could magically fly to them and escape.
His gaze flicked back to her. “I need to know whether I can trust you.”
The cuts on his face had guilt flooding through her. “I could have run when you told me to. But I didn’t leave you behind. Isn’t that proof enough?”
He seemed to consider that, then shrugged. “For now, you’re going to have to trust me.”
She gave a nervous laugh. “Well, I certainly don’t trust the guys shooting at us. Where are they?” She tried to peek around the largest boulder. He stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.
“Don’t. They’ve hunkered down behind the last tree we jumped over, about forty feet back. I imagine they’re waiting to see if I’m going to pull a weapon from my backpack, since they made me toss my pistol into the ravine and took Tattoo Guy’s pistol away from me.”
Hope unfurled in her chest. “Do you? Have a backup gun?”
He shook his head. “I’ve got a hunting knife. But you know the saying about bringing a knife to a gunfight.”
“I’m really good with a knife. I could throw it at them. All I’d need is some kind of diversion to get one of them to stand up and give me a clear target.”
As soon as she said it, she realized she’d made a mistake. He was looking at her with open suspicion again.
“In college,” she rushed to explain, “I hired a guy who ran a gun range to teach me to defend myself. He taught me to shoot. But he also taught me how to throw a knife.”
“Ever thrown a knife at a real, live person?”
“No,