Page 26 of Hunted By the Mountain Man

“Ted Bundy seemed harmless, too,” I counter, turning on my heels to leave.

“Wait! Don’t you want me to speak to Emily?”

“That can wait. Goodbye.”

I run to my truck, jumping in, backing out, and dialing Will on my hands-free device.

He answers in half a ring. “Forester, have you heard the latest?”

“What I could get through the small-town grapevine. But fill me in on what’s going on.”

“Four hikers came in mid-morning, scared out of their minds. Swore up and down their acquaintance, Ralph Wade, bragged about murdering two missing hikers after getting drunk last night. Even showed them the fingernail scratches on his back. No one knows about fingernail scratches except for our investigators and the coroner. And he also acknowledged knowing the hikers were buried alive. We haven’t even released the official autopsy report yet, and those details were redacted for investigative purposes.”

Buried alive?Bile rises in my throat, and urgency tightens my muscles. “Why didn’t the hikers report this last night?”

“They had to sober up … nurse hangovers and eventually remember the conversation.”

“Goddammit!” I curse under my breath. “And Brynn didn’t know any of this when she picked him up?”

“No. So, you’re familiar with Ms. Lovelace?”

“Yes. Tell me about the CLEAR Alert.” I drive as he talks, getting a rundown on her last whereabouts with Wade. The buffoon of a hiker seemed downright goofy and inept. Talk about the perfect cover.

“Motherfucker,” I curse, my mind spinning with next steps.

“What’s wrong, Forester?”

“Brynn Lovelace is my girl.”

“Your girl? I didn’t know you did relationships.”

I grumble, “Yeah, neither did I until the first time I saw her face. Fuck, I have to find her.”

“I’ll keep you posted on everything we hear. But your best bet is to start at the Silver Ridge Trailhead, where a few people saw them together late in the afternoon.”

“Thank you. By the way, I’m sending you contact information for Logan Caples and Jess Steele. They had dealings with Craven in Gold County on the night of his death. You should speak with them. They may have additional information that could help with the case.”

“Will do. What are you contemplating, Forester?”

“Hunting.”

As I jump out of my truck at the Silver Ridge Trailhead, grabbing my backpack and slinging my recurve hunting bow over my shoulder, I raise up a silent prayer. I’m ready to do whatever it takes to find Brynn and make the copycat murderer wish he’d never been born. I just hope I’m not too late.

Suddenly, my phone vibrates. Pulling it out, I open a text from an unknown number. I notice the same area code as Henry Lovelace, Northern Idaho, staring at images of the forest and brush. Realization slams into me.

Brynn is sending me breadcrumbs, and despite the randomness of the spot, I’d recognize it anywhere. She’s a half mile up Silver Ridge Trail, where the main route forks off into a game trail.

The wildlife trail is used by hunters in the fall, and if she takes it, she’ll lose her cell signal completely. If I were a copycat serial killer, looking for the isolation to offend again, it’d be the perfect location to lead a victim.

My stomach roils. I can’t spare a moment as I sprint into the woods at top speed. I can’t let anything happen to Brynn, no matter what it takes.

ChapterThirteen

BRYNN

Icontinue to snap pictures, arms raised and heart racing, though I can’t put my finger on why.

“Ralph, come get in the picture,” I invite, suddenly compelled to send his photo to Beau, too.What in the world is wrong with me?

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