“A friend from Greenville.” Wayne looked over, his smile nasty. “Charlene thought she was setting you up for a surprise party.” He reached over and roughly tugged on her hair. “Surprise, Emma.”
She pulled away, banging her side against the door again. “What’s this all about, Wayne? What did you mean, you’re ‘taking me out of the equation’?”
The rough road drew his attention and she didn’t get an answer. She banged her head against the rifle in the gun rack behind her. A few strands of her hair caught on it, and she barely stifled a whimper when they hit another bump and it pulled the snarl out by the roots.
They finally reached the spot in the road where Emma and Mikey had found the tire tracks almost two weeks ago. Wayne suddenly let loose a curse. Emma followed his gaze and saw that the ground around the mud puddles was wet.
Which meant someone else had been there this morning.
Wayne looked past her to the mountain above, his eyes assessing. He opened his door, grabbed the rifle from behind her head, then hauled her out his door by her bound hands, driving her hip into the steering wheel and pulling on her wounded shoulder.
He relentlessly pulled her down the road, scanning the forest as he walked. Suddenly he stopped and hunched down by a puddle, trying to read the tracks. “They’ve left already,” he said, standing and dragging her into the forest.
Taking advantage of the fact that Wayne was paying attention to his surroundings, Emma tripped him when he ducked under a branch, jerked free of his grip, then ran back through the path they’d made.
Emma heard snapping branches behind her as he scrambled to his feet in pursuit. Her bound hands made it nearly impossible to balance herself as she pushed through the snagging bushes and stumbled over roots. Wayne tackled her just as she made it to the road. He landed heavily on top of her, driving her into the ground, and Emma cried out in pain. Wayne grabbed her hair, growling with frustration.
“Why are you doingthis!” she cried.
He got to his feet and pulled her up by the hair again. Emma kicked him, and he smacked her side with the butt of his rifle, making her draw back against the pain.
Still without speaking, he took her deeper into the forest again, shoving her ahead of him, using his rifle to prod her in the back whenever she stumbled.
It seemed forever before he jerked her to a stop. Emma looked around and realized that they were standing at the exact same spot she and Mikey had found. Only now the earth was well trodden, the leaves and pine needles scuffed in places. Wayne also looked around, and realized his secret place had been invaded.
He shoved her hard, and Emma fell back with a scream.
“This is your fault,” he growled. “I had the environmentalists stirred up enough to pass the no-clear-cutting legislation.” He waved the gun barrel at the forest. “This would have remained untouched. Everything would have stayed safe.” He pointed the gun back at her. “Your snooping ruined everything.”
Emma scooted back out of his reach. What he was saying didn’t make sense. Wayne would want the clear-cutting legislation to be defeated, not passed. His livelihood depended on cutting down trees. “You’ve been the one fueling this war all along? Why?”
He hunched down in front of her, sitting on his heels and balancing against his rifle. “This section was marked for clear-cutting next summer, which means there would have been men and large machinery all over these woods. I couldn’t have that.”
“Because it would have ruined your drug-running operation? You could just find another drop point.”
He looked startled, then suddenly barked in laughter. “Drug running! Is that what you think?”
Confused, Emma nodded.
He laughed again. “You’re dumber than your slut of a sister, you know that? I’m not running drugs.”
Emma didn’t like the sound of his laughter. Wayne wasn’t just trying to cover his tracks; he truly was insane.
“Then what’s this all about?”
He jumped to his feet, lifting his hat off, then resettling it into place. He repeated the ritual several times, and began pacing in front of her, a sweating ball of nervous energy, his eyes pinpoints of madness. He pulled the handgun from his belt, still holding his rifle in his other fist.
“Kelly wouldn’t stop probing, either, until she found out my secret.” He stopped and pointed the handgun at her. “When I tried to explain it had been an accident, she still didn’t believe me. She went ballistic and said she was going to tell Ramsey.”
Emma felt the blood drain from her face. “What did you try to explain to her?”
He stopped pacing and stared at her with a surprised expression on his face. “That I killed Charlie.”
Emma stiffened in shock. “Wha … ?” Her mind reeled as images of her father’s body suddenly surfaced; beaten and battered by the force of the water carrying him down the valley below the dam. And more images: of Kelly’s melancholy and the months of pregnancy that followed, of Wayne’s public decree that the environmentalists were responsible, and that Benjamin Sinclair had led the terrorist act.
“ Youblew up the dam?” Emma stared back at him as her anger began to surface. “But why? Why did you kill my father? “
He started pacing again. “I blew the dam to make it look like Charlie got caught in the flood, but he was already dead. He blamed me for getting Kelly pregnant.” Wayne stopped pacing again, the handgun hanging in his hand. “When I told him his slut of a daughter had slept with Sinclair and that it was his kid, Charlie exploded. We fought. It was an accident, I tell you! So I blew up the dam to cover my tracks.”
“And then you blamed Ben.”
His eyes ignited with hatred. “The bastard should be rotting in jail.”
“Kelly didn’t run away, did she, Wayne?” Emma said, as things slowly began to fall into place.
“You’ll find out soon enough, Emma Jean. Assuming there really is an afterlife.” He pulled back the hammer on the revolver and aimed it at her.
Emma picked up a handful of dirt and threw it at him just as a blur of brown fur suddenly raced in from the left, landing on Wayne with an ungodly snarl of outrage. Wayne screamed in surprise. Beaker grabbed his arm with deadly precision, and the two of them tumbled away.
Emma didn’t wait to see who won. She jumped up and ran up the mountain, since he had the truck keys in his pocket. She had also noticed the two-way radio had no microphone; Wayne must have hidden it before he’d ambushed her.
Her only hope lay in the forest.
Emma flinched at the explosion of gunshot behind her but didn’t look back. She couldn’t let Beaker down by getting caught again. She heard no yelp of pain, only Wayne cursing and the breaking of twigs as Beaker ran away in the opposite direction.
Could a dog be that smart? Could he actually be trying to divide Wayne’s attention?
Emma dashed up the mountain. Wayne couldn’t effectively pursue her while staying on guard against Beaker, so her odds of surviving had improved immensely. But the going was difficult, and her bound hands made progress slow. Winded, Emma finally stopped behind a tree to work at the ropes with her teeth.
Wayne was a good woodsman, and the knots were stubborn. She heard a noise coming up the mountain, and leaned over to see Wayne picking his way toward her. He spent just as much time looking behind himself, and Emma smiled. Beaker had escaped and Wayne was worried. She definitely had a chance.
She began moving again, this time in a more deliberate direction. There was a large, deep chasm between here and the beaver pond where they’d parked the plane almost two weeks ago. If she could get across it and then destroy her route, Wayne would have to walk two miles out of his way to get to her.
With every step she took, Emma knew she was putting more distance between herself and Wayne. She was in excellent shape despite her wounded shoulder; a lifetime of hiking had made her legs strong and her mind sharp.