Page 100 of Captivating Anika

“I assume from Monique’s place. Anika said something about her place backing onto the park and the river.”

“A few big houses along that stretch, but I don’t think she could afford one of those on a hairdresser’s salary, so I’m guessing one of the River View mobile homes?”

River View is a good-sized, well-maintained mobile home park where Annie—Sumo’s wife—used to live.

“Probably.”

The Hampton Inn is coming up on the left, so Evans gets ready to turn right onto Animas View Drive, which runs parallel to the river. We fly past Mild and Wild Rafting Tours and the next turnoff is one of a few in the mobile home park.

“If her unit backs onto the river, it’s probably one of the ones on the far side,” I suggest, even as my eyes are already scanning for the truck.

“Not a lot of visitor parking here,” Evans notes. “Maybe we should check the public parking lot by the play area first. We can always backtrack.”

It’s not hard to spot the Suburban, she was smart enough to park it under one of two lights illuminating the parking lot on either side. One other vehicle is on the lot, closer to the houses on the far side.

As soon as Evans brings the cruiser to a stop beside my truck, I jump out and try to peer in the windows. Other than a couple of containers of strawberries and what looks like some other fruit on the passenger seat, I don’t see anything out of order.

“Here,” Evan says, handing me a flashlight.

He’s holding a second one himself. Smart, because it’s getting dark and the light from the parking lot doesn’t quite reach beyond the railroad tracks. But when he starts walking back to the mobile homes, I stop him.

“She mentioned they were going to watch the sun go down over the river.”

“Unless they never made it out there,” Evans brings up.

For a moment we stand there, undecided. Then he pulls out his cell phone and starts walking toward the railroad tracks. I rush behind him.

“Ramirez, how far out are you?”

Evans had put a call in for backup from the cruiser. Tony Ramirez is another of Durango’s finest who took the call.

“Okay, we found the Suburban in the play area parking, and we’re heading along the river, you focus on the mobile homes at River View. You’re looking for the house of one Monique Winters. It’s supposed to back onto the river, we think on the north side, closest to the play area.”

We cross the tracks and take the trail toward the river’s edge. In an effort to see better in the fading light of dusk, I flick on the flashlight as we approach the fast waters of the Animas. The river is loud here, a constant rush that blankets any other sounds.

The path narrows and Evans takes the lead, as the trail steers us away from the river and into the cover of the trees. Only a hundred feet in or so, he comes to an abrupt halt, and aims his flashlight at the ground in front of him.

“What is it?”

When he steps aside, I see a paper bag on the ground with fruit spilling out. Cold settles into my veins.

Evans steps over the bag, but I stand here for a moment longer, trying to lock in on something I thought I heard up ahead. The detective stops and turns around, but I hold up a hand to stop him from talking.

There it is again, it’s faint and almost washed out by the water, but it sure sounds like someone calling for help. It’s coming from somewhere to my right. Forfeiting the trail, I duck into the undergrowth and follow the direction I think the sound is coming from. I make so much noise I have to stop again to listen, noting Evans is following me.

“Please…help…”

Urgency has me barreling through the brush, when suddenly two sharp cracks sound.

Gunshots.

We’re so close to the churning water, I can see the white caps through the thick growth when I’m abruptly yanked back by the collar.

“Stay put,” Evans growls, as he edges in front, his flashlight replaced by a gun in his hand.

Stay put, my ass. He’s veering off to the left where the gunshots seemed to come from, but I’m positive I heard the call for help from straight ahead.

Another shot rings out, just as I push out of the trees. The river is right in front of me, but I turn to the left where the shots came from. I catch sight of Monique—her blond hair standing out—who looks to be aiming a gun at something in the water downriver.

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