Page 16 of Manhunt in the Narrows
The 200-foot cascade was tucked in a small branching canyon off the main trail and created a trail in its wake, silencing the torturous memories in her head. This. This was why she’d fallen in love with Zion, why she’d applied to become a ranger with no experience, no outdoor skills and meager survival know-how. But she’d been a fast learner. From the very first time she’d stepped into the Narrows, she was reminded of the woman she used to be. The one who trusted herself, who had goals and dreams, who’d figured out the solution to any problem. Staring at this waterfall, she’d remembered who she’d been before her ex had taken over. Strong but a little bit wild. Carefree yet caring for those who deserved her love. From mere minutes of studying this exact waterfall, something had clicked into place. She’d become obsessed, learned everything she could about the park and the skills needed to become a ranger in a matter of weeks. She still wasn’t sure why Risner had offered her the job based off her nonexistent résumé, but she would always be thankful he’d given her the opportunity. Even if it meant suffering through his pitiful attempts to raise the bar on sexist pigs.
“We can rest here for a couple minutes.” Her body relaxed into that space where the past didn’t exist and all that matteredwas the next step forward as she splayed her hand into the waterfall. Cold water slapped into her palm, kept her from disappearing completely. “My ex was very good at reading people. Always seemed to know the exact right thing to say. He could win any argument, despite evidence contrary to his perspective. If he hadn’t made a career with the FBI, I think he might’ve been a great lawyer in another life. I think it’s how he was able to convince so many people that he was the victim in our relationship. That he was being emotionally abused and isolated and controlled. Not the other way around.”
Elias stepped up into her, unaware or unconcerned with the spray of water coming off the rocks. “The police had to have something on you to show a history of abuse.”
“They did. Turns out those friends I thought could see what he was doing to me—people I’d invited into our home for dinners and holidays and barbecues—had provided testimony on my ex’s behalf.” Her stomach soured. They’d been her friends, too. Once. Only now she realized just how deep her ex had his claws in them. “The GPS in my car told police I’d been following him to those motels where he met up with women, keeping track of who he was with. There were texts sent from my phone to his colleagues but later deleted showing how much control I had over his life. He lied to his partner about arguments and punishments and financial abuse I held over him. But it was all a lie.”
“But you were the one being abused,” he said.
“Not physically. He never hit me, but some scars aren’t visible.” Sayles pulled her hand free from the crashing water. Back to reality. Back to chasing a ghost in hopes of keeping him from hurting anyone else. “I’d wanted out. A few days before I was arrested, I asked for a divorce, and in return, he faked his death.”
“That kind of planning takes time.” Elias didn’t retreat from the waterfall, squinting up at the source 200 feet up. His expression relaxed as if he were soaking up every moment, memorizing it, enjoying it. In the short amount of time they’d been partnered, she hadn’t seen him look so…free. Very unlike an FBI agent who might turn on her, and something released from around her rib cage. “You can’t just frame someone in a day. Or without a body.”
She’d figured that out while sitting in a jail cell. Somehow her husband had known her intentions. Or maybe he’d just always had an escape plan designed for moments he didn’t get what he wanted. She’d never know. Sayles directed her attention back to the main part of the river. “No. You can’t. Somehow, my ex had gotten a hold of a body roughly the same size and weight as him. It’d been…burned beyond recognition, but his wedding ring, the one I’d had engraved for him, was recovered with the remains. Neither fingerprints nor DNA could be recovered to make a positive identification, and the teeth had been damaged. Based on his wedding ring and his friends’ testimonies, police arrested me.”
Elias unwrapped a banana that wouldn’t last him an hour calorically considering his size and muscle. “How’d you find out he was still alive?”
“One of the friends he’d asked to perjure himself had a change of heart.” It was the first domino to fall in a long line of lies unraveled over several months. Months wasted in a prison cell that she’d never get back. “He came forward and gave up my ex’s plan. Texts and voicemails he’d kept just in case. After some dealing with the DA’s office, he gave up my ex’s location. My darling husband had paid for a death certificate, bought a new identity, became someone else—all while I rotted away behind bars. I was released after eight months.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t begin to imagine what you’ve been through.” Those dark eyes pinned her in place. Held her up with invisible arms like nothing else had since her release. “But I give you my word, I will not fake my death and frame you for my murder as long as we’re partners.”
Maybe Elias Broyles wasn’t so bad for an FBI agent, after all.
“That would be greatly appreciated.” Spatters of rain hit the brim of her hat, and she turned her face up to the sky. The cloud had taken over the thin sliver of blue in the past few minutes, and her stomach lurched. The chances of surviving—outrunning—another flash flood were slim. They had to go back. “Another storm is moving in. Come on. We have to get out of here.”
Sayles didn’t wait for his response as she headed downstream. Back toward that sliver of rock they’d taken solace on last night. There was no telling if it would be enough, but there was no flash flood escape in this corridor. They would die if they pushed through.
“What are you doing? Our killer is this way.” Elias pointed upstream. “He’s close, Sayles. The bag he dropped is proof. We can catch him. We can stop him.”
“Not if we’re dead.” The rain picked up, stinging her face as the winds barreled down the canyon as though in warning. She studied the rapids. Waited for the debris and the mud and the roar she couldn’t forget. “There’s nowhere to run—”
A loud boom filled her head.
Elias’s mountainous body collided with hers.
Dragging her beneath the river’s surface.
Chapter Twelve
He slammed into Sayles.
Elias caught the slight exhale of air crushed from her chest a split second before the river consumed them with cold, watery teeth as sharp as knives. Using his full weight against her, he held them beneath its surface.
Sayles dragged her nails down his arms, over his face. Drawing blood. Fighting against his hold. Fighting for her life. Her kicks missed their targets and failed to dissuade his hold around her.
Someone had shot at them.
Pressure built in his chest as oxygen burned out of his system. He couldn’t give the shooter a second chance of hitting his mark, but they wouldn’t last long in the river, either. He had to make a choice.
Elias fisted her uniform collar and hauled her above the surface. Water dripped into his eyes, compromised his vision. Her gasp infiltrated his concentration a split second before strong hands shoved against his chest.
Sayles’s hat was gone. Lost to the river. She didn’t seem to notice as he hauled her behind his back, corralling her into the branching slot canyon they’d stopped in a minute before, his front to hers. Dark hair streaked down her face in rivulets of water. “Get off me—”
“Someone just shot at us.” He pressed his hand against her mouth. Pain sliced through the numbness brought on by their swim. Despite the frigid temperatures of the river, her warmth seeped past his soaked clothing and gear. His heart thundered hard, loud enough to drown out the clapping of the waterfall at her back and the roar of the river at his. They were at a disadvantage here. He couldn’t hear a damn thing as thunder rumbled overhead. The slot canyon they’d taken shelter in seemed to vibrate along with the storm. Rain only added to his distress. Could they survive another flash flood? Did they have a choice? His training clicked into place, and he ran through their options. None of them great. “Where does this waterfall trail lead?”
“West for about three-quarters of a mile, but it’s a dead end and difficult to navigate in places.” She shook her head. “There’s no way you’d be able to fit through the slots, even if you took off your gear.”
They were cornered. Damn it. Elias risked getting a visual of the shooter, but where he’d caught movement on a ledge above the river a few minutes ago, there was nothing but a flash of lightning. The killer was on the move. Aware he wasn’t alone. They’d lost the element of surprise, and Elias wouldn’t risk Sayles’s life to get it back. He spun her around, shoving her down that too-small branch off the main trail. Water kicked up as she stumbled forward. “Then that’s where we hide.”
