Page 108 of Deadly Target (Rocky Mountain Courage 2)

FORTY-FIVE

Wilson parked behind a warehouse at the edge of town. Nathan hung back and watched him with binoculars. Wilson pulled a big backpack out of the trunk of his car, donned it, then climbed down an embankment to old railroad tracks. He disappeared into the abandoned train tunnel.

Nathan sped forward and parked next to the red sedan. He hopped out and slid down the embankment, following Wilson, letting moonlight guide the way. Pulling his weapon out, he crept slowly toward the tunnel entrance. A flashlight beam shone around in the tunnel.

Wilson could be keeping the women against their will. Or protecting them. Nathan didn’t know. His heart jackhammered as he quietly entered the tunnel, hoping his eyes would quickly adjust to the darkness barely illuminated by Wilson’s flashlight. Nathan kept close to the walls so he wouldn’t be so easy to spot at the tunnel entrance. He was almost walking into this situation blindly.

“Celia,” Wilson called out. “Where are they?” he mumbled quietly, though his voice echoed in the tunnel. “I don’t understand. She said to meet her here if...”

Wilson stood near the wall, his face awash with confusion, frown lines carved deeper by the shadows.

“Police.” Nathan flicked on his own flashlight and lifted his firearm as he slowly crept forward. “Slowly place your hands on your head.”

Wilson’s eyes widened, and he dropped his flashlight. “No, wait.”

“I said, place your hands on your head.”

The man dropped to his knees. Nathan hadn’t asked him to do that. Wilson’s face twisted up—grief? Regret?

Nathan approached, trying to suppress his anger. “Where are they?” He ground out the question.

“What?” Wilson opened his eyes and glared up at Nathan. “You think I know?”

“What are you doing here, then? You came here for them. You called out Celia’s name.”

“But she’s not here, is she?”

“You know something, Mr. Wilson. Something you didn’t tell the police. I want to hear the whole story and now. They’re in danger, and I have to find them.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Wilson climbed back to his feet. “Can you stop pointing that thing at me? I’m not a criminal.”

“Fine. Slowly remove your backpack and toss it to the side. Then put your hands against the wall. I need to make sure you don’t have a weapon.” Nathan didn’t think he had anything to fear from Wilson, but he couldn’t afford to take that chance, especially considering Wilson’s strange actions.

He frisked the man, patting down his outer clothing with one hand, then stepped back and lowered his gun, though he kept it warm and ready in his hand.

“Look, man.” Wilson stepped over a railroad tie. “I ... I’m just the neighbor. I was helping them.”

“Why didn’t you tell the police that when they asked you?”

“They asked me what I saw, and I told them. I answered their questions.”

In other words, the police hadn’t asked him the right questions.

“And I didn’t open the door when you knocked because I was pretending I wasn’t home. I couldn’t wait any longer. I had to leave.”

“You’re withholding information that could help find Erin and Celia. So tell me everything, and make it quick.”

“Okay, okay. Celia shared a secret with me that she hadn’t shared with anyone and commissioned me to dig a tunnel that led away from her home in case she needed to escape. All I had to do was dig to the steam tunnel that runs under the town, and from there, she would make her way here.”

“Escape from whom?”

“Some bad people after her. She said she’d been running from them most of her life and had to prepare for the day they would catch up to her.”

This confirmed what Nathan had pieced together, though he didn’t know the exact connections. Celia was the woman in the article, the crime boss’s daughter who had disappeared. And Erin—had she known any of this? If she didn’t know before, she definitely knew now.

“And that escape plan included you meeting her here?”

He nodded. “She texted me that they had found her and told me to meet her like we’d planned. But I’m here and ... well ... she isn’t.” He scraped his hands through his hair.

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