Page 55 of Crossroads of Betrayal
Grace lifted her hands to shield her face as the cart crashed against a tree. She was thrown forward. The steering wheel slammed against her chest and stole her breath. Pine needles poked through the shattered windshield and jammed against her skin.
But she didn’t have time to sit and assess her injuries. Joan would come looking for her. Grace needed to escape the cart and figure out how to stay away from the dangerous criminal with a loaded gun.
With the cart on its side, she crawled over the passenger seat toward the opening. Pain shot up her hip. Trickles of blood dripped from her forehead into her eyes. Slashes from the protruding branches burned her face, and a sharp thud pounded inside her head. She gripped the edge of the cart and pulled herself up until she spilled onto the ground. Dried leaves and broken twigs scraped against her palms.
She leaned against the cart, using it as a shield from the top of the ravine, and studied her surroundings. A shallow river gurgled a few feet further down the hill and a cluster of trees dotted the landscape.
The sound of footsteps crunching through leaves reached her ears and she stilled. Joan. Staying where she was made her a sitting duck. She needed to move quickly, and as stealthily as possible, if she was going to survive. Holding her breath, she rounded the side of the cart. She stayed low to the ground and darted for the closest tree getting lost in the sappy needles. She got as close to the rough bark of the tree trunk as she could.
“I know you’re down there,” Joan said, her sing-songy voice sending shivers of terror down Grace’s arms. “No one is around to help, and you can’t hide forever. Might as well make things easier on the both of us and show yourself.”
She bit back a scoff. Did this lady really think she’d just step out and accept the bullet Joan planned to bury in her skull? Holding her breath, she willed Joan to keep talking—keep giving away her location. Chances were Joan would head straight for the wrecked cart, which meant she needed to get as far away from it as possible.
Spying a rock on the cluster of brown needles on the ground, she picked it up and tossed it as hard as she could on the other side of the cart. As long as Joan didn’t see her throw the damn thing, maybe she’d believe Grace was somewhere else and buy her a chance to escape.
Joan laughed. “Do you think I’m stupid? That you could just toss a little rock and I wouldn’t know who threw it?”
Damnit.
Needing to move quick, Grace hurried to the next tree.
Bang!
Wood splintered from the nearby trunk, a bullet lodging into the bark inches from her head. Grace swallowed a scream and pressed her hands over her ears as she hunched forward, making herself as small as possible as she kept moving. Kept running as agony clutched her hip and shot down her leg. Her thigh muscle cramped and she gritted her teeth, pushing forward.
“You’re making this way too easy,” Joan called out, her voice sounded too close.
Staying as hidden by the underbrush as possible, Grace lunged uphill. She clawed at the ground, dirt and mud smearing on her hands. Moisture seeped into the knees of her leggings. She needed a better plan. No one knew where she was and the only path toward freedom was blocked. She couldn’t trick Joan. Not now that her location was compromised.
Unless she went downhill. Climbing was too difficult, but she could scoot on her butt toward the river. She might find a better hiding spot, and definitely a bigger rock that could be more beneficial than the pebbles dotting the forest floor.
“Hello?”
An unfamiliar male voice sounded from the top of the ravine.
Grace stilled, waiting for Joan’s response to the unexpected stranger.
The rustling of leaves ceased, as if Joan stopped and pivoted toward the newcomer. “Oh, hey, Darrin. What are you doing?”
Graced sucked in a sharp breath. She could jump up and wave her arms in the air. Alert Darrin to her distress. But Joan was a trained officer. If Darrin wasn’t armed, which there was no reason to assume he would be, she could take them both out in a matter of seconds.
“I was out for a run and heard gun shots. I wanted to make sure everything’s okay, then I saw the golf cart. Did you get an accident? Are you hurt?”
Grace pressed her back against a maple tree. She peered around the side for a better glimpse at Joan. The older woman was twenty yards to her left, Darrin straight above her.
Joan hid the gun behind her back and grimaced. “I’m so glad you found me. Between the rain and the mud, the cart slid off the trail. I couldn’t control it and wound up down here. I hurt my ankle pretty bad. I could use some help getting back up.”
The tremor in the other woman’s voice boiled Grace’s blood. She was a damn good actor, and if Grace didn’t do something, Darrin could be the rouge cop’s next victim.
“No problem,” Darrin said, making his way down the ravine. “Stay where you are, and I’ll get ya. Last thing we need is one more person getting hurt.”
Shit. There went her plan to sneak away while Joan was distracted. She searched the ground for anything she could use as a weapon. A fallen limb caught her eye. Grabbing it, she snapped the thin twigs from the top, leaving a thick branch with plenty of length to keep a little bit of distance between her and Joan.
Not like the distance would matter if she wasn’t fast enough and Joan put a bullet in her.
“Thanks,” Joan called out, casting a glance in Grace’s direction.
She pressed her back to the tree trunk and squeezed her eyes shut, saying a quick prayer that she hadn’t been spied.
