Page 26 of Manhunt in the Narrows
“Didn’t take you for the vengeful type.” Elias dragged his feet through the chilled waters rising to their calves, flashing her that smile quickly highlighting her days. “I like it.”
“Thanks. I think.” Her self-critic—moderately created by the man who’d framed her for murder—fought against that compliment. If that was what it was. Sayles shut down the inclination to shrink. Elias liked something about her, and the comment hadn’t come with a hint of sarcasm. She…believed him. Maybe her willingness to watch her ex go down in flames of his own making wasn’t the only thing, either. Wow. He’d really screwed her up, hadn’t he? Convinced her she wasn’t worth complimenting, that she was nothing without him. How was it even months later she was fighting against all these little mechanisms and habits she’d picked up to cope throughout hermarriage? Why couldn’t she just let it go? And why the hell couldn’t she give herself a break and accept it would take time?
“You good?” Elias tapped the back of his hand against her arm. Bringing her back to the moment. Pulling her out of the spiral with mere touch. Just as he had in the tent, dragging her body against his. Giving her permission to use him in whatever capacity she’d needed to get through what they’d suffered.
It’d been enough. She’d dropped into unconsciousness within seconds with him pressed against her. That was all it’d taken. Because she’d felt…safe. For the first time in a long time, she hadn’t even thought about putting a weapon beneath her pillow or triple-checking the zipper on her tent. She hadn’t startled awake in the middle of the night at the slightest sound that didn’t fit her surroundings. There’d only been Elias, who’d held her throughout the night as though he’d needed her as much as she’d needed him. And it’d felt right. Like a puzzle piece she’d been missing for months had finally clicked into place. “I’m good.”
And it wasn’t the same lie she’d been telling her fellow rangers or Risner or anyone else who’d bothered to check in out of a warped sense of obligation. The heaviness she’d adapted to since leaving Colorado didn’t have the same hold on her as it had a few days ago. Because of him. “Thinking about what happens after you catch this killer.”
“What do you mean?” Elias made a good effort to focus on the path he carved through the river.
“I mean you kissed me yesterday.” Tightening her grip around her pack’s straps, she tried to counter the ball of anxiety in the pit of her stomach. It was no use. “Do you normally go around kissing your partners during an investigation?”
“Grant hasn’t complained.” His laugh charged through her, sweeping the last remnants of apprehension from her veins. He shook his head. “No. I don’t just go around kissing people oncases. Though, can you blame me for wanting to kiss you? You’re freaking formidable hanging off the edge of a cliff. Anyone else in your position would’ve given up, but you fought.”
She didn’t have an answer for that, but the beaten-down ghost of her past self preened. Hell, she needed a life. Friends, hobbies, dreams—all the things her ex had systematically cut her off from. Lila, her roommate, didn’t count, and could she really consider hiking the Narrows every weekend a hobby if it was technically her job? As for dreams… It’d been a long time since she’d considered what would come next. Since she’d allowed herself to hope it wouldn’t be taken away. “Oh. Well, I haven’t…um, kissed anyone since…before I was arrested. Or dated anyone. Or just generally given anyone the impression I am a nice person, but I want to know what you think it meant.”
“You mean if I want to kiss you again.” Elias halted right there in the middle of the river. The mere words out of his mouth—the idea of his mouth on hers again—coiled something low in her belly. “Yeah. I think I do.”
“Why?” She hadn’t meant to ask, but there it was. All of the doubt and self-hatred and disappointment in herself that’d built up since two officers had shown up at her door to arrest her for her ex’s murder. Doubt that she’d make it through, self-hatred for staying with the bastard as long as she had and the disappointment for not seeing who he’d really been before it was too late. A rawness spread through her. Why? Why did a man like Elias—tough-minded, accomplished and honor-bound—want anything to do with the hot mess in front of him?
He closed that short distance between them, looking far too put together than he deserved after what they’d survived. “You want to know what I see in you?”
Did that make her needy? Wanting to know who in their right mind would look at her and see something other than a brokenthing that had no chance of living a normal life again? Her mouth dried.
“I see a woman who isn’t afraid to express her very strong opinions.” His smile cracked another layer of armor she’d relied on over the past couple of years. “You never seem to run out of energy, which makes me think you’re some kind of witch sent to put my outdoor skills to shame.” Elias skimmed calloused fingertips along her forearm, then over the pulse in her wrist. The contact was enough to shove those fears back into the box at the back of her mind where they belonged. “Despite the front you put on, I think you feel more than anyone else I’ve ever met. You’re the kind of person who will never forget or forgive the slights against her, and I admire that about you. I admire your outright determination to become someone you’re proud of, who will never take abuse or manipulation again and who will put herself at risk to protect others from suffering what you went through.”
Six years of marriage and her ex had never bothered to really get to know her, but this man had somehow worked past her defenses. She couldn’t dislodge the swell of emotion in her throat. “You see all that after only two days together?”
“I saw it the moment I met you.” Dropping his hand from hers, Elias waited for her to make the next move. Choice. It was always a choice with him.
They were coming up on the four-mile point, a marker that should’ve taken no more than three and a half hours to reach on a good day, but the park itself seemed to be turning against them. Not to mention the killer determined to escape. Wynopits Mountain demanded attention over the wall of the canyon to the east. One mile more and they’d reach Big Spring, where the Narrows officially ended. Where the Hitchhiker Killer had wanted her to take him, but her instincts told her there was something more to his final destination. Not that he’d justwanted out of the park, but that there might be something there he needed.
“The killer—Patrick—wanted me to get him to Big Spring before the FBI could catch up with him.” Sayles swiped at her face with a renewed energy singing through her. Of possibility and hope. “I think we should get there first.”
Chapter Twenty
He could still taste her.
On his tongue, in his soul.
Sayles Green had barged into his life without mercy and taken him for everything he had. She’d picked up their pace after he’d agreed to her plan to head the Hitchhiker Killer off, but they still had to fight the river’s current with every step. She never faltered. Each foot strike more sure than the last. It was a testament to her determination to prove she was more than the woman who’d been conned by someone she believed had loved her, and he couldn’t help but follow in her footsteps. To think he had a chance of escaping the past as she had. Of fighting back.
His body ached, particularly the tops of his thighs as he battled against the upstream current. Floodwaters had spread out and down the trail, but the river still parted around his waist. It was a fight, plain and simple, and they had no idea how far ahead the killer had gotten in the time it’d taken him and Sayles to recover since yesterday. Every second counted. They couldn’t waste a single one of them.
They’d navigated through Wall Street Corridor and lived to tell the tale on the other side. If another flash flood hit, they had an actual chance of making it out alive. It was the threats he couldn’t predict that simmered beneath his skin now. His entire career centered on seeing all the ways an investigation could go south and giving himself the advantage in the end,but he couldn’t discard the possibility he’d missed something here. Potentially putting Sayles back in the killer’s sights. Not an option he could live with.
“You’re awfully quiet for once.” Sayles dared a glance back in his direction, her face slightly flushed, out of breath. She was exerting herself, burning through whatever energy she had left over after the attack from yesterday. While they’d both managed to get to sleep in that cramped tent last night, she’d tossed and tensed throughout the night. No matter how tightly he’d held her.
They’d packed supplies for three days, and neither of them wanted to acknowledge what would happen when they ran out, though he didn’t doubt it was one of the main concerns on her mind. Always planning ahead. Always looking for the escape.
“Is that your way of telling me you don’t enjoy my company?” The retort slipped from him easily enough, but he’d left his humor a few hundred yards back. “Something about this case isn’t sitting right.”
“What do you mean?” She’d turned forward again, never one to lead them off the path or put their safety at risk. He’d been the one to make that choice, to prioritize catching a killer above both of their lives. A mistake he wouldn’t make again. If it came right down to it, he’d make sure Sayles got out. He owed her that.
“The killer’s motive.” It was the key to this entire case. He could feel it, but nothing they’d gathered so far during this investigation hinted as to what drove the Hitchhiker Killer. “He murdered four motorists between California and Utah. Then a random hiker here in the park. Nothing connects any of the victims. They’re a mixture of male and female, married and single, with no common backgrounds. Not even the same makes or models of vehicles. He wipes down every car he’s in to make sure he doesn’t leave his prints behind. Our forensic techshaven’t been able to collect any DNA to identify him. What’s he running from?”
“What if he’s not running from something?” Sayles chanced another glance over her shoulder, giving him a glimpse of brightness in her gaze. “What if he’s trying to get somewhere?”
