Page 3 of Mountain Captive

Her mother’s silence was all the answer she needed. Jedediah and the others hadn’t forgotten about Chris. That hadn’t been her name back them, but that wouldn’t matter to them.

“Would you really remember what he looked like after all these years?” April asked finally.

It wasn’t the man’s features that had been so familiar to her, but the look in his eyes. So full of hate. “He sure acted as if he recognized me.”

“How could he?” April asked. “You changed your hair and had that nose job. And you were twelve years old. You were a child when he saw you last.”

“I know.” She swallowed down the rising panic and forced herself to stop and breathe deeply. “I just... The way he looked at me.”

Harley stood and leaned against her. She bent and rubbed behind the dog’s ears, finding solace in his solid presence.

“He’s just a creep,” April said. “There are plenty of them out there. If you really think he’s a threat, tell the sheriff. Didn’t you tell me he’s a decent guy?”

“Yes. I mean, I’ve only interacted with Sheriff Walker on search and rescue missions, but he has a good reputation.” Still, how would he react if she told him someone she had last seen when she was twelve had been glaring at her? And did she really want to reveal that whole sordid story to anyone here?

“You know you’re always welcome to stay with me for a while if it makes you feel better,” April said.

“I know.” But Chris had already hidden out at her mom’s place three times in the past two years. And at least one of those times had been a false alarm. She had heard the talk from other search and rescue members about how often she was out of town. Everyone seemed understanding, but that was probably because they thought her work as an artist was taking her away for weeks or months at a time. “I’m tired of running away,” she said.

“Oh, honey.”

The tenderness in April’s voice might have broken a weaker woman. But Chris had had years to develop a hard shell around her emotions. “I was just wondering if you had heard anything about Jedediah. If you knew if he had a reason to be in this area.”

“No,” April said. “I try to keep tabs on people, but I have to rely on the few friendly contacts I still have, and they’re understandably reluctant to reveal too much. But Colorado and Jedediah have never come up in our conversations.”

Chris nodded, even though she knew her mother couldn’t see her. “Okay, that’s good. I guess.”

“I’m sorry this happened to upset you,” her mother said. “But I don’t think it has anything to do with what happened all those years ago.”

“You’re right.” Chris let go of the dog and turned to stare at the suitcase, into which she had apparently packed a dozen T-shirts and eight pairs of socks but no underwear or pants. “I’ll just...keep my eyes open, and if I see anyone suspicious or threatening, I’ll tell the sheriff.”

“That sounds like a good plan,” April said. “But know you can come stay with me anytime.”

A knock on the door set her heart racing. Was it Jedediah? Had he managed to find her? “I have to go now, Mom.”

“I love you,” April said.

Harley was already moving toward the door. He hadn’t barked or even growled, but the ridge of hair along his spine stood at attention.

“I love you too,” Chris whispered. She slid the phone into her pocket and tiptoed toward the door, careful not to make a sound. Holding her breath, she peered through the peephole with Harley pressed against her side, his body taut.

Chris exhaled in a rush as she recognized the man on the other side. She unfastened the security chain and dead bolt and eased the door open a scant two inches. “Hello?”

“Chris Mercer?” The doctor who was now working with search and rescue asked. She couldn’t remember his name, but she wasn’t likely to forget his face anytime soon. Blue eyes, curly dark hair, cleft chin—he had definitely made her look twice when she had first seen him.

“What do you want?” she asked.

He held up her day pack. “You left this behind on the trail. I thought you’d want it back.”

“How did you find me?” She didn’t like the idea that a stranger—no matter how good looking or well intentioned—could walk right up to her front door.

“There’s a card for the gallery downstairs in the outside pocket of the pack,” he said. “I asked and the woman at the register told me you were upstairs.”

Chris frowned. She would have to have a talk with Jasmine. “Thanks.” She opened the door wider and reached for the pack. Thoughtless of her to have left it, but that showed how shaken up she had been.

Harley shoved forward and stuck his head out the door. He glared at the doctor, a low rumble vibrating the air.

The doctor took a step back. “Hello, there,” he addressed the dog.

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