Page 14 of Manhunt in the Narrows
The weight crushing his chest wasn’t normal, and Elias blinked against the soft light coming through the canvas protecting them from the outside elements. He blew long dark hair off his mouth, realizing the weight belonged to the woman passed out on top of him. She’d escaped her sleeping bag sometime in the middle of the night and invited herself into his.
The hand and foot warmers lay around them. Discarded in favor of his body heat. Elias settled onto his back, not sure what to do next. The sun was up, and if they had light, so did the killer. They had to get moving. “Sayles.”
A moan slipped free of her throat, and she buried her face deeper against his chest. Wetness pooled against his shirt directly beneath her mouth. How long ago had she climbed on top of him? And why wasn’t he inclined to maneuver her back to her side of the tent?
Oh. Maybe because the last time he’d considered getting close to a woman, she’d asked him to marry her on the first date. But this one was off-limits. While they didn’t work for the same agency, they were partners. And he had no inclination to climb into a single-person tent with Grant. As soon as they caught up with the Hitchhiker Killer, he and Sayles would part ways. She’d stay here in Zion, and he’d get sent back into the field on a new assignment. Apart from that, she had a deep-seated hatred of theFBI thanks to her bastard of an ex, and he wasn’t excited about the possibility of being suffocated in his sleep.
Who the hell ever thought the woman in his arms was capable of murder? Elias shook her small frame gently. “Sayles.”
Another moan—more frustrated—filled the tent. “Five more minutes.”
Yep. She wasn’t aware she’d climbed him like a tree. “Sayles.”
Her head shot off his chest. It took a moment for her gaze to clear enough to recognize the position she’d put them in. Swiping at her mouth, she shoved against his chest to put as much distance between them as possible. Except there really wasn’t anywhere else for her to go. The tent had been made for a single person. It was a miracle they hadn’t tipped it moving around in the middle of the night. “This is your fault.”
“Oh? I’m pretty sure I wasn’t the one playing musical sleeping bags in the middle of the night.” The instant loss of her heat gutted him, and he wanted nothing more than to drag her back. But they had a job to do. “Though I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it.”
Her face heated, which was a vast improvement over the blue tint it’d taken on after he’d pulled her from the river yesterday afternoon. Sayles extracted herself from his sleeping bag and shoved to stand. Her head hit the top of the tent. “Pig.”
“Blanket hog.” He swallowed the laugh aching for release as she shot him a look that would certainly put a less confident man in the grave. Elias didn’t waste time waiting for her instructions and slipped free of the too-hot cocoon. Grabbing for his pack, he pulled his water bottle free and finished off the contents, then shoved two protein bars down his throat. They were already trying to make up for lost time to catch up to the killer. Any more mistakes and the bastard would escape. “Does the end of this trail lead anywhere else?”
Sayles bit down on the toothbrush in her mouth as she pulled her slightly curly and frizzed hair into a ponytail between hershoulder blades. The shirt she’d changed into last night engulfed her from shoulder to mid-thigh, her sweats at least one size too big. Choosing comfort over style. He liked that. “The Narrows trail officially ends at Big Spring, about three miles from here.”
“And unofficially?” Elias folded his sleeping bag in half and rolled it as tight as his Boy Scout leaders had taught him as a kid. It’d been a pain in the ass then, and it was sure as hell a pain in the ass now, but he saw the merit in keeping his gear accessible and organized after nearly getting washed downriver.
Sayles dropped to her knees, dragging her pack closer. She went for the front pocket and pulled a thin brochure from inside. A detailed map of the Narrows. Leaning into him, she ran her finger along the switchback-like trail. “This is us at Mountain of Mystery.” She pointed to a section that looked more like a contortedSthan a trail, then slid upward to the top of the foldable map. “The river continues north with several branches leading west.”
Elias made a mental note of each landmark and theNo Flash Flood Escapewarnings peppered up its length. “All right. Is it possible the guy we’re hunting can escape the trail off the beaten path?”
“If he knows the area.” Handing off the map, she pulled a couple more supplies from her pack, including a fresh uniform. She scrubbed at her teeth as though punishing them for making the decision to crawl into his sleeping bag. “If he doesn’t, I can’t imagine he’ll last long in the backcountry on his own. Some people spend years training to survive out there, rangers included, but most have no clue what kinds of threats are out there. It’s one of the reasons all national parks require permits and gear lists. People have died from exposure, animal attacks, starvation. You name it.”
The Hitchhiker Killer—it was just easier to give him a moniker than keep referring to him as their killer or the guy theywere hunting—had murdered a hiker at the base of the trail. But why? What had made him a target? He could only think of one motive: supplies. Which could mean they’d underestimated his knowledge of the park and the killer’s experience. “Can I borrow your radio? I need to get in touch with my partner.”
“The canyon blocks radio signals.” She swallowed the toothpaste in her mouth, washing it down with water from her bottle. “We’d have to hike pretty high to get through.”
“Are there any open areas a signal might reach the visitors’ center?” They had to know what they were dealing with. A man relying on his survival brain or a methodical killer who’d chosen this trail for a reason. Time could tell them, but Elias was never one to jump without a plan. And he had Sayles to worry about. If anything happened to her… No. He couldn’t let himself get worked up about nonexistent scenarios. That was how mistakes were made.
“Not for another couple of miles. The trail reaches around 5,600 feet in elevation once we hit Wynopits Mountain.” Storing her toothbrush, she closed the distance between them, crouching at his side. Her hair slid over her shoulder and brushed against his arm. Raising goose bumps in its wake. She turned the map in his lap, fingers grazing his sweats, and he was instantly reminded of her body pressed up against his chest when he woke. Craving shot through him. Want. “There’s a chance we may be able to get something if he hikes high enough there, but it’s two miles north. It’ll take time.”
Time they didn’t have for a detour.
“We need to assume whatever reason the killer targeted your hiker was to get extra supplies.” Elias refolded her map and took the liberty of reaching around her to slip it back into the same pocket she’d found it. “I’m starting to think Zion was his escape plan all along.”
Confusion drew her eyebrows over the bridge of her nose. Over her map or their proximity, he wasn’t sure. “What makes you say that?”
“How many people would you say can survive a surprise flash flood and live to tell the tale?” he asked. “I’m pretty sure we would’ve seen a body by now if he’d gotten caught in that storm.”
“Very few. Especially if they’ve never experienced one before or know the signs on an impending flood.” Sayles stared at him, her eyes widening slightly. “You think he’s using the park to stop you and your partner from catching him.”
“It’s not the dumbest idea.” Though the Hitchhiker Killer had already killed four motorists and a hiker. What was a couple FBI agents added to the tally? “I’m sure you can tell I have no idea what I’m doing out here.”
She shoved to stand, turning her back to him as she stripped out of her oversize shirt. Muscle flexed around her bare rib cage and between her shoulders. Flawless skin, peppered with just a few moles here and there, surged a wave of heat through his chest, and Elias turned away to give her some semblance of privacy. A good amount of color had come back into her skin. No signs of hypothermia hanging around her face and lips. “But he had to have known NPS would get involved, and wedoknow what we’re doing.”
He’d been lucky. If he’d found her a mere minute later… He swallowed that thought with a tendril of acid.
“Good point.” So where did that leave them? Pursuing an amateur or a far more dangerous criminal? What were they headed into? Elias made quick work of changing his shirt, back facing Sayles, and repacking his gear. His head brushed the top of the tent for the hundredth time. He’d forgo the jeans today, opting for the sweats he’d slept in last night. They didn’t have time for him to hold them back. Clawing from the almost claustrophobic one-person tent, he grabbed for the clothing he’dhung to dry outside while Sayles had changed out of her wet uniform and rolled them into manageable pieces. His boots had dried. Less chance of more blisters.
Sayles pulled her first aid kit from her pack as she stepped onto the thin, rectangular rock that’d kept them dry last night. “I need to change your bandage before we go.”
