Page 43 of Their Wicked Games

It had been a steep climb but Rowley’s daily visits to the dojo before work kept him in top shape. He stood beside him staring at the bridge. “That’s Dave Kane, her husband. Unless you want to die a horrific death, don’t go there. He’s kinda protective of her.”

Rowley moved closer to the beginning of the bridge and peered down the ravine to the rushing water fed by the waterfall. The old rope bridge had been there for as long as he could remember. It looked rickety and swung gently in the breeze. The slats had many repairs. The gray squares nailed over cracked planks to strengthen them resembled a random line of Band-Aids. He glanced at the sign that warned not to cross if the bridge was damaged and to contact a number to report it. Turning to look at his friend, Rowley smiled. “The turkeys are on the other side, right?”

“Yeah.” His friend had removed his backpack and was rummaging through it. “I’ll need my gloves. That rope looks nasty.”

Nodding, Rowley pulled a pair from his pockets. A habit of carrying them on his person came from years as a deputy. He never knew when he might walk into a crime scene and leather gloves were better than none at all. He pulled them on but his friend was still wasting time. He sighed. “If that’s a delay tactic to make me go first and test if the bridge is safe, it worked.” He smiled at him. “I don’t have a problem with heights.”

After attaching his crossbow to his backpack, he took hold of both sides of the top of the rope bridge and stepped out. The bridge swung almost nauseously back and forth, back and forth, like a ship battling the waves. He took his time, stepping carefully from one rung to the next and sliding his hands along the top rope. By the time he made it to the center the wind tore at his clothes and whipped his Stetson from his head. He watched in dismay as it spun on the air before landing crown up in the swirling water below and surfing down the river. Underfoot moss covered each of the slats in a lacy green design sparkling with diamonds of water drifting from the waterfall with each gust of wind. He looked up ahead of him. It seemed such a long way to the other side. The bridge dipped in the middle, making the climb upward on the slippery slats difficult. He stopped to take a breath and turned to look over one shoulder at the sound of chopping. In horror, he gaped at his friend chopping madly at the ropes.

In a heart-stopping slide, the slats beneath his feet vanished as one side of the bridge gave way. Hanging by one hand, Rowley stared at the man he’d once called a friend. He was grinning at him like a demented monkey and waving the ax as if planning to cut through the other rope. Fear gripped him as his fingers threatened to slip and send him to an agonizing death, crushed on the rocks or drowned in the river. Anger and sorrow at never seeing Sandy and the twins again flashed into his mind. She’d always worried a serial killer would murder him. Maybe she’d been right.

THIRTY-NINE

Tendons and muscles tearing under his weight, Rowley swung like a pendulum, sucking in deep breaths. Terror gripped him and his heart threatened to tear from his chest as he looked down at his dangling feet. The bridge had opened up like a candy wrapper and, arm shaking with effort, he swung his feet onto the wooden edge of the bridge. The moment his boots hit the slippery wooden slats, he stretched out his other hand and grasped the rope. Gasping with effort, he took his weight on his legs, easing the pain from his shoulder. Shocked and confused, he clung to the bridge, resting his arms. If he wanted to survive, he’d need to climb. Dragging in deep breaths to keep his nerve, he stared across the ravine at his friend’s wild expression.

Why did his friend want to kill him? He’d made many friends at the crossbow club and didn’t compete, so he found it hard to believe he’d be a threat to anyone. Hair soaked from the persistent spray from the waterfall, he blinked away the rivulets of water streaming down his face and raised his voice over the roar of water. “Why are you doing this?”

“You should have fallen to your death.” His friend spoke to him through cupped hands. “You couldn’t make it easy for me, could you?” He turned to look behind him, searching the forest as if making sure no one was around.

Fighting rising panic, Rowley sucked in deep breaths. Kane had taught him many techniques for remaining calm and he swallowed his fear. Concentrating on his situation, finding a solution, and setting a goal would calm his terror. Kane insisted it was the key to survival. Sandy and the twins’ faces filled his head. He gritted his teeth against the pain.I must get home to my family.Unless his so-called friend intended to cut through the other side of the rope bridge, it might be possible for him to climb hand over hand along the attached side of the rope to the other side. Brushing the water from his eyes on one sleeve, Rowley stared at the man for some moments, trying to determine his next move. Without warning, his feet slipped on the wet mossy planks and he clung on for dear life, feet hanging over the ravine. His heart picked up, racing in his chest. Right now escape seemed impossible. As he dragged his legs back onto the plank, his friend was watching him closely, ax swinging from one hand.

Fighting rising panic, Rowley glared at him. If his friend cut the remaining rope, he’d send him swinging to the other side of the ravine to crash to his death against the rocks. Trying to keep calm, he turned his head and scanned the area about halfway down the side of the ravine. It might be the best place to land. The area was well-covered with tangled vegetation and not a sheer rockface like some of the ravines in the area. If he looped the rope around both arms and rode the bridge like a swing, the chances of survival would be slim. Bounce off and he’d die on the rocks or drown in the river. He tightened his grip, determined to survive.

The answer came in seconds as the sun caught the glint of the metal ax head. Fighting waves of panic, Rowley braced himself as his friend attacked the rope. He watched in horror as the rope frayed. A twanging sound came across the noise of the falls as it snapped and leapt into the air before falling into the ravine. Legs flying out behind him, he swung in a giant loop, rushing toward the edge of the ravine at breakneck speed. He’d planned his move, and heart in his mouth, he let go with one hand, and as the bridge hit the side in a bone-shattering thump, he wrapped one arm around a sapling and slid off the bridge. The torn wooden structure bounced away from the edge. Seconds later it slammed into his back. In the shock of impact, he lost his grip with one hand and slipped down the sapling. Desperately grasping at wet foliage, he slid and slithered back to his perch. Behind him, wooden slats rained down into the ravine to be carried away on the bubbling river. Someone must have been watching over him, as his boots slid into footholds. Panting, he hung there with the remnants of the bridge behind him.

Teeth chattering with shock, Rowley looked left and right. Above him the ravine bulged out, making climbing impossible. To his left, a narrow ledge maybe ten yards away. Gathering his courage, he moved step by step, gripping the small bushes and other vegetation growing along the side of the ravine. His fingers trembled as he tested each bush. Without warning one came away by the roots, sending loose soil tumbling down the side of the ravine. He cried out as pain shot through his injured shoulder. Legs wiggling like a dying spider over the ravine, he dug deep and dragged up his aching body. He wrapped his other hand around a sturdy sapling and in one last push slid onto the ledge. Trembling with exhaustion, he dragged off his backpack and grabbed a bottle of water. After drinking it down, he pushed the backpack and crossbow to one side. Totally exhausted, he rolled onto his back just as a crossbow bolt bounced off the rock where his head had been. The elation at making it this far melted like snow in summer. Now the jerk was trying to shoot him.

The distance and wind factor would make accuracy difficult, but it wouldn’t take his friend long to adjust his aim. Determined not to make it easy for him. He wriggled into the shadow against the side of the ledge and pressed himself into the vegetation. Water dripped onto him and an icy chill from the soaked rock seeped through his jeans. His hand trembled as he searched his pocket for his phone. He needed help but wanted so much to call Sandy. Swallowing the grief of never seeing her again, he gritted his teeth, determined to get back to her. He had two people on speed dial, Sandy and Kane. He hit Kane’s number and didn’t move as bolts slammed into the ground around him. As Kane answered, a bolt smashed into his arm just above the elbow. He choked back a sob as unbearable pain shot through him. “Kane, just listen. I’m under fire. On the west side of the rope bridge at the top of Bear Peak Falls. Jesse is trying to kill me. I’ve been hit in the arm. I’m stuck on a ledge below the bridge. He’s on the opposite side firing his crossbow.”

“Stay on the line.”Kane was explaining the situation to Jenna.“It’s Jenna. We’re on our way. You said, Jesse? Your friend Jesse Davis? Did you have a fight?”

He could hear running footsteps, Kane issuing orders. Rio responding. More footsteps, doors slamming, and finally the distinct sound of the Beast’s engine roaring. He only needed to survive another hour. He shook his head at the absurdity. That wasn’t possible but he refused to go easy and wiggled backward, getting his head deeper into the vegetation and using his backpack as cover. His right side was exposed and his right arm useless. At least, he wouldn’t bleed to death. The bolt had passed through muscle and protruded out the other side. He could only make out a slight trickle of blood, but from the agony, it had chipped the bone on the way through. More bolts zipped past him. How many more could Jesse be carrying? Surely, he’d run out soon. “No fight, Jenna. I figure he’s the third member of the kill squad and I’m next on the list. Go figure, I thought he was a friend.”

“Hang in there. We’re heading for the chopper.”Jenna sounded out of breath.“Keep talking to me, Jake.”

Before he could reply, a bolt slammed into his calf and he couldn’t bite back a cry. Jesse was using him for target practice. Trembling in agony, he gripped the phone closer to his ear. He so wanted to speak to Sandy one last time, but he’d never put her through the trauma of hearing him die. Dizziness gripped him and his vision blurred. His injuries weren’t fatal, perhaps he was going into shock.

“Talk to me, Jake.”Jenna’s voice came in his ear.“Is he still shooting?”

Taking a deep breath, he pushed out words through chattering teeth. “Yeah, his backpack must be filled with bolts. His shots are getting closer. I’ve taken one in the arm, and one in the leg. It’s only a matter of time before he hits a vital organ, Jenna. If I don’t make it, tell Sandy I love her.”

FORTY

Heart pounding, Jenna took the stairs to the roof of the medical examiner’s building two at a time. With the phone pressed to her ear, she’d listened with horror at Rowley’s desperate situation. In front of her, Kane and Wolfe ran up the steps, arms filled with gear. On the roof Carter was making final preparations for takeoff. The four of them would be going in the chopper. Jo and Rio would be heading to the forest warden’s parking lot. She figured Jessie Davis would eventually return to his vehicle in hope of escaping. She burst from the dim stairwell out into the brilliant sunshine and, suddenly dazzled by the light, paused for a few seconds to get her bearings. Blinking, she hurried to the FBI chopper. “We’re boarding the chopper now. I won’t be able to hear you, but don’t worry. We’ve taken your coordinates from your phone. Hang in there.”

“Copy.”Rowley’s voice sounded weak as he disconnected.

Strapped in, she turned to look at Kane and adjusted her headphones. He was wearing his combat face. Jenna touched his arm. “He is still alive. We’ll get to him on time.”

“I mean to.” Kane checked his harness and pulled on gloves. His determined expression eased some of Jenna’s concern. “Carter, swing over the shooter’s position. If he’s still there, I’ll need to disable him.”

“Copy that.”Carter took the chopper high into the air, and moments later they were flying over the tops of pine trees.

The distinct rock formation known as Bear Peak stood out before them, dark against the brilliant blue sky. Jenna couldn’t make out the falls and the ravine. Beside her, Kane stood and, taking his rifle, stretched out on the floor of the chopper beside the open door. The chopper descended slowly, the wind from the propellers swirling the pines in all directions. The chopper waved back and forth in the wind, sliding Kane perilously close to the open door. She made out Rowley’s orange hunting jacket on a ledge halfway down the ravine and turned to scan the opposite side, searching for any movement.

“I see him.” Kane was using the scope on his sniper rifle to search the opposite side of the ravine. “Hold it as still as you can.”

The shot rang out, loud even with the headphones, and just inside the tree line, a man carrying a crossbow dropped to his knees. Incredulous that Kane had managed to make the shot, Jenna turned back to him. “He’s down.” The man crawled forward and dragged himself up using a tree. “You didn’t kill him. He’s mobile.”

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