gun.
The craziest part of all was that he still felt a compulsion to help her. The urge had nothing to do with her golden good looks, or even with the way she made his body respond to hers. Instead, it had everything to do with the real fear and desperation he had seen in her eyes. She reminded him both of the fox that had been trapped in his cabin and the boy in the courthouse. He hadn’t been able to help the kid, but he could help Madeleine. He needed to help her.
He rubbed his hands over his face and drew in a deep breath, willing the lingering nausea to subside. This wasn’t over yet. His truck was running on fumes, and she didn’t know about his reserve tank. He doubted she’d make it back down the mountain before she ran out of gas. If he headed out now, he could still overtake her.
* * *
C OLTON CAME ACROSS the abandoned pickup truck about three miles down the dirt road beyond the cabin. He checked the cab, but there was no sign of his keys, his gun or her backpack. He fished his flashlight out of the back and examined the area around the vehicle until he picked up Madeleine’s footprints. She was heading down the far side of the mountain, and she was running.
She’d been gone less than an hour. Colton estimated she might have made it to one of the secondary roads, but there was no way she could have made it out to the main highway. With luck, he could still catch up with her.
Reaching under the rear fender, he retrieved his spare ignition key. Inside the cab, he flipped a switch for the reserve gas tank, grateful now that he’d invested the extra money for that added feature, and even more grateful that Madeleine hadn’t known about it. The engine sprang to life, and he roared down the mountain.
Keeping one eye on the uneven road, he reached over and opened the glove compartment, relieved to see his backup revolver was still there. At least she hadn’t discovered that one. He grabbed the handheld radio that was stashed beside the weapon and made a call to the local dispatcher, giving her only the briefest information about what had transpired. Then he waited. Less than five minutes later, his cell phone began to ring. He looked at the caller ID; it was his boss, U.S. Marshal Jason Cooper.
“Deputy Black,” the familiar voice growled without preamble, “would you care to tell me what in Sam Hill is going on?”
“Sir, all I’m asking for is twenty-four hours. Just twenty-four hours to bring this girl in. I went willingly with her from the diner, and I’ve spent the past twelve hours with her. She’s not about to hurt anyone, and I’ll stake my life on the fact she won’t use that gun.”
“And if she does? She’s already committed a class D felony in taking that weapon, Deputy Black.”
“I take full responsibility, sir. But she won’t use it.”
There was a long silence. Colton respected Jason Cooper, who had a reputation for being unflappable and making sound decisions. Jason and he had worked together for over five years, and Colton considered him a friend, but right now, he couldn’t guess which way Cooper’s thoughts might be going. He only knew he had to reach Madeleine before Cooper loosed the authorities on her. If Colton didn’t find her first, she’d get herself killed. He was sure of it.
“All right.” Cooper’s voice was low, and Colton could hear the reluctance in it. “I’ll put a hold on the APB for the next twenty-four hours, but no longer. I’m only doing this because it’s you. If it had been anyone else making this kind of request, the answer would be an unequivocal no. And this doesn’t mean you’re off the hook—I still want answers. Just remember, if you don’t have her in custody within the next twenty-four hours, it’s out of your hands.”
“I understand, sir. Can you do me a favor and run a background check on her? I need to know what she’s involved in.”
“Already in progress. I’ll have it to you shortly.”
“Thank you. She’ll
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