Page 9 of Manhunt in the Narrows
A hint of annoyance flashed in her expression as the outcome took shape. It was a good look on her. The doubt. He wouldn’t mind seeing it a few more times before this manhunt was over.
Ranger Green tossed the rest of her cards onto the middle deck. “You cheated.”
“I’m not sure it’s possible to cheat at go fish.” It was, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. “Maybe you’re just really bad at it. Either way, deal’s a deal.”
The hard set to her jaw warned him she might back out, but sooner or later, he would figure out why she’d rather throw herself into that raging river than sit here with him for one more minute. “My ex-husband is a federal agent. FBI, same as you. He worked mostly serial homicide cases. I told you before things didn’t end well. It’s childish and immature of me to assume you’re like him, but I’ve spent the better part of the past five months avoiding anything and anyone who reminds me of him.”
That, he hadn’t expected. Elias busied his hands by reshuffling the deck, processing what little she’d given him. He could let her offer more information—as she had concerning his latest admission—but curiosity got the better of him. “That’s why you’re familiar with case terminology and protocols?”
“No.” Her voice shook on that single word. “That came later.”
“What’d he do to make you want to divorce him?” he asked.
She didn’t answer right away, but they had all the time in the world on this rock. “What makes you think he wasn’t the one to leave me?”
“Because you’re the one in hiding.” He didn’t miss the slight widening of her eyes. The mask she wore was good. Probably forged over the years she’d been married. But experience had given him the tools to break through the thickest of lies.
Her breath shook from her. If the temperature had been a few degrees cooler, he was sure he would see crystallized puffs around her mouth. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not going to give him the chance to do it again.”
That didn’t sit well. Elias wasn’t sure why, other than an undercurrent of blame that shadowed her words. In his career, he’d met a lot of bad guys. Except sometimes those bad guys convinced everyone around them they were actually good. Had badges and federal credentials and the respect of neighbors, partners and family. He dealt her another ten cards. He’d play as many rounds as it took to bring back that smile from earlier. “Whatever he did, it wasn’t your fault.”
“You don’t know that.” She ignored the hand he’d offered, those pretty eyes on him. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know you’re running. I know while you do everything you can to convince people otherwise, you’re probably scared.” He’d seen it enough times during his tenure with the FBI. Hell, even before that. As much as he didn’t like to think of his childhood, there’d been days he’d blamed himself for earning that disappointed look on his mother’s face. It wasn’t that he’d done anything wrong—he knew that now. He’d simply existed, and she couldn’t find a way to get rid of him that didn’t have her ending up behind bars. If he’d just been good enough, done his homework better, cleaned the house instead of going to his friend’s house, maybe—maybe—she could’ve loved him. It’d taken years for him to realize he’d deserved more than that permanent scowl on her face any time she looked at him. “Anyone who uproots their lives to move to the middle of nowhere and tells themselves the world can’t possibly be as cruelas they remember isn’t to blame for what happened to them. They’re a victim.”
She didn’t seem to have any response to that. At least not for a few minutes as they quietly exchanged cards in another round of go fish. “The witness you said you got killed. Do you blame yourself for that?”
“Yes.” There was no point in denying it. He could practically feel the stain of guilt on his skin. Surprised she couldn’t feel it, too, when she’d bandaged his thigh. Elias threw down a card to hand over. “She was a kid, really. No older than twenty-one. A corner boy got shot one night, had his whole stash stolen right out from under him. Problem was, it wasn’t his stash. It belonged to the cartel he was running for. Girl had been at the bodega behind him, working the late shift so she could attend classes during the day. Saw the whole thing, could identify the car he drove off in. Smart girl. Had her whole life going for her. My superiors wanted me to let her go. Said we had better ways of getting to the cartel, but I had this feeling she could get us what we needed. She was scared. She was worried the shooter would come back and kill her if she said anything, but I kept pushing. Finally, she agreed. I got her to come in and identify the shooter. Next thing I know, she’s the one laid out on the sidewalk. Bullet holes in her chest.”
Talking about it didn’t do a damn bit of good. No matter how many times he’d told this story, the nightmares wouldn’t stop. His hand shook as he discarded the next card. “I pushed her into identifying the killer against my superiors’ orders, and the bastard came back to make sure she’d never see court. My mistake lost the FBI the element of surprise. The cartel packed up and vanished, and the man who put a bullet in her disappeared with them. Along with my career.”
A hand landed on top of his cards, pulling his attention to Ranger Green’s softened expression. No longer guarded by themask she worked to keep in place. “If you didn’t feel guilty, you wouldn’t be trying to be better. That’s what mistakes are for. To show us what to do next.”
His throat worked to argue, but there wasn’t anything he could say now that would change the outcome.
The touch was too brief as she extracted her hand, taking the playing cards with her. She repacked and shoved to stand. “The flash flood is over. It’s time to move.”
Chapter Seven
No signs of their killer.
Sayles gauged her every step as they descended back into the Virgin River. Debris and muddy waters heightened the chances of losing their balance and being washed downstream, but they’d missed their opportunity to turn back. The river reached the middle of her thigh, pushing against the limited energy she had to spare. Clouds hovered over the slice of canyon above, cutting the temperatures even more. The flash flood warning was still too high for her comfort zone, but she’d managed to get them through. It was another mile to Orderville Canyon Junction—the location she intended they’d set up camp. Anything could happen between then and now.
Agent Broyles pushed through as the waters at her back kept rhythm with her steady heart rate. The bandages on his thigh were doing their job, making it easier for him to keep up while staving off infection. He’d surprised her back there. Admitting his mistake in costing a young woman her life. The federal agents she’d known—her husband, his friends and colleagues, all wrapped around her ex’s manipulative finger—would’ve taken a bullet before accepting responsibility for their screwups. Guilt didn’t exist in their worlds. But it did in Agent Broyles’s. She hadn’t expected that.
She supposed not all FBI agents were willing to give false statements, fabricate evidence and commit perjury in the court of law for a friend.
Sayles pushed ahead, maybe a bit too fast for this portion of the trail, as dark memories she’d ignored these past five months caught up with her. It was as if a dam had set up residence in her head. Building, poking, prodding. Every slip cost her a hold on her control, and the bet Agent Broyles had instigated only made it worse. Sooner or later, the dam would break altogether, and not even Zion National Park could save her. Until then, she had to keep it buried so deep she could convince herself that it had been someone else’s life instead of hers. “Watch your footing up here. The rocks get smaller, and the flood is making everything else hard to see. Don’t need you twisting an ankle.”
“You sure you wouldn’t want to see that?” He spread his arms wide to keep his balance.
She could hear the smile in his voice but forced herself to keep her attention up front. She had to hand it to him for making it this far. More people than she cared to count failed to survive flash floods. Elias Broyles had found himself three steps back on the ladder of his career, but he was still here. Chasing a killer neither of them was prepared to face at the moment thanks to the flash flood.
The river protested his quickening pace until he caught up with her. His breathing deepened, but he held his own against the current. There were a few rangers who couldn’t handle these waters after a flash flood like that. “Kind of seems like you’re secretly hoping I slip up.”
“That would get you killed.” She’d never had an issue keeping her emotions on lockdown around her fellow rangers. Not even Lila, her roommate. The less she revealed about herself, the less chance her ex could use it against her, but Agent Broyles seemed to make it his own personal mission to get under her skin.“Despite your lack of respect for boundaries, I don’t want you dead. It’s too much paperwork.”
His laugh echoed off the red rock reaching for the thunderous sky. “Oh. Isthatthe only thing keeping you from letting me die? Here I thought I’d impressed you with my go fish skills.”
