Page 22 of Canyon Killer
“Stay in the car and stay down,” Aaron ordered.
His radio crackled, and he said something she couldn’t make out. Bethany sat with her body twisted awkwardly and folded forward, her head pressed against the steering wheel. She tensed, waiting for a gunshot or a shout or anything but the ticking of her car’s engine as it cooled.
“I think whoever was up there is gone,” Aaron said.
She turned her head and saw that her brother had emerged from behind the SUV, so she started to straighten up. “Stay down!” he barked.
Ian scrambled from beneath the Jeep and moved, crouched down, to her side. “What are you doing here?” he asked.
“I came to see you.” She glanced toward her brother, who was talking on the radio again. “What’s going on?”
Aaron was off the radio now. He moved toward them. “Bethany, what are you doing here?”
“I came to see Ian. What is going on? Why areyouhere, Aaron?”
“Ian and I were talking. Someone took a shot at us.” He looked over his shoulder. She followed his gaze and saw the shattered window on Ian’s trailer.
That had her up and out of the car. “Are you okay?” she asked Ian.
“I’m fine.”
“I’m fine, too,” Aaron said.
“I can see that,” she said. “And at least you’re wearing a ballistics vest.” She turned back to Ian. “Who was shooting at you?”
“We didn’t see them,” he said.
“They had to have been up on the other side of the canyon,” Aaron said. “Though I don’t know how they could get up there.”
“There’s a dirt road,” Bethany said. “Just a track, really. We used it to get to the cliff top to rescue that climber. You have to park and walk about a hundred yards.” Fear jolted her. “I may have seen the person who shot you. Or seen their truck.”
“What?” Ian asked.
“Who was it?” Aaron asked.
“I didn’t see the driver, but as I was coming up here, a white pickup truck came shooting out onto the road from that dirt track. He was going so fast, he lost control for a minute, then straightened out and flew by me. I wondered why someone would be driving so recklessly on that rough road.”
“Can you describe the truck?” her brother asked.
She frowned, trying to remember. “It was just a truck. White. Two doors, I think.”
“Ford, Chevy, Dodge or Toyota?”
“I don’t know.” She gave Ian an apologetic look. “I’m not a car geek. I don’t notice them much.”
“Someone’s coming,” Aaron said as the crunch of tires on gravel reached them.
Ian stepped in front of Bethany. “Stay behind me,” he said.
The car turned out to be another sheriff’s department SUV. Deputy Jamie Douglas parked next to Aaron’s vehicle and got out. “I got your call about the gunshots,” she said. “Is everyone okay?”
“Just one gunshot,” Aaron said. “And we’re okay. It took out a window.” He indicated the shattered glass. “I’m pretty sure they’re gone now. Bethany just got here, and on her way in she was passed by a white truck driving erratically. She said it came from a dirt road that leads up to the other side of the cliff. That’s the direction the shooter was firing from.”
Jamie moved over to the window and examined it. “Can I go inside?” she asked Ian.
“Of course.”
She went into the trailer and emerged a few moments later with a plastic evidence bag. “I found the bullet. Remington .223.” She showed it to Aaron.
