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“Maybe it’s locked,” Mike stated.
“We’ll assume it is,” Mason agreed. “Let’s stick with the original plan just in case Pixie’s still inside. Peter may have foiled her attempt at escape, or gone after her and brought her back.”
Keeping to their initial strategy was the smart thing to do, but Doug wanted like hell to storm the damned place. He had to force himself to maintain his crouch, and it took every bit of his fortitude.
“Briar, you’re up,” Mason finally barked.
Doug watched as his teammate approached the cabin. He held his breath. The woman was actually armed to the teeth, but if Peter started shooting, she was almost a sitting duck. Briar had laughed off those concerns, saying that if she sensed things about to go sideways, she’d drop and roll away faster than any of their sorry asses would have been capable of.
Luckily, she made it to the door without any problem.
Briar knocked.
When there was no answer, she knocked again and raised her voice. “Hello? I’m lost and I need some help.”
Still, there was no answer, so the intrepid officer, instead of trying the knob and going in blind, scooted over to the side of the cabin where the window was broken. She moved swiftly with her back against the siding, and when she reached the open hole, she turned, then stood on tiptoes to peek in, and… She grabbed the sill and hoisted herself inside.
The minute she ditched her covert posture, Doug and everyone else knew the place was either empty, or their perp was incapacitated. They all stormed in behind her.
Within seconds, half of them had vaulted through the window, Doug included, to see…nothing. Well, not nothing. There was a bed beneath the window, and a hammer on the floor which Pixie had probably used to smash the window. Smart girl. He was proud of her, but…where the hell was she now?
“The door isn’t locked,” Quint stated, opening the portal which showed three deadbolts that could be locked from inside or out. “Since there’s no blood to indicate Pixie overwhelmed her captor, my guess is that earlier, our man left the property for some reason, then came back and found her missing. He’s left the cabin and is clearly in the woods, in pursuit.”
“Brazos,” Mason snapped at Amos. “You’re up. Talia, you and your squad will stay on Brazos’ six, the rest of you, scour the woods in all directions. We’re looking for any clues.”
They all knew their expert tracker would attempt to find Pixie’s trail. The dog-team of Harvé and Muddy had stayed back at the wedding venue once it had been determined they had a location for Pixie. It was an oversight not to have brought them along, but that couldn’t be helped now. Regardless, Doug had every faith in Amos. The man was a magician.
As everyone began to disburse, Amos immediately began studying the ground just outside the cabin as Talia’s people gathered around. The squad consisted of Talia, Doug, Jessop Nadirm, Azis Connaret, and Barry Guilfoyle. Quint also chose to accompany them.
“See these?” Amos pointed to a spot near his feet. “These are impressions from Pixie’s heels.” He didn’t hesitate, but walked directly to the tree line as if an arrow had been drawn in the dirt and pine needles in that direction. Ten feet into the forest, he bent and ran his hands over a slightly disturbed spot that Doug would have attributed to a squirrel.
“She took them off.” Amos grunted.
Which meant…
Doug squatted down on his haunches and quickly spotted the shoes in question. “There.” He jumped up and snagged the footwear from under a bush. As he clutched them to his chest, he couldn’t believe it had only been a few hours since he’dadmired her in the sexy-as-fuck heels when she’d emerged onto the Sothard’s front porch.
He sent up a quick prayer that he’d get to see them on her again. What a fool he’d been, not telling her exactly what she meant to him.
Amos nodded, acknowledging that Doug had found the first clue, but the tracker’s attention had already turned to the north, and he was pointing. “She’s headed this way, and it looks like our perp is following.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Pixie was out of breath, but had she run far enough? Leaped enough rocks? And if she had, would Peter still find her? And what about Doug? She was certain, by this time, that he and his team would be looking for her. But would they even know where to start? Without the information that it was Peter who’d stolen her away, and without a clue where tobegintheir search, locating her, she knew, would be next to impossible.
Which meant her original assessment was correct. It was up to her to find a way out of this.
Wanting nothing more than to sit down and give up, Pixie kept trotting onward. Despite the cold seeping into her body, the dress that was now dirty and in tatters, and her bruised and bloodied feet, she kept her shoulders squared. She wasn’t a quitter, and she wasn’t about to start crying over her circumstances, now. She hoped there’d be time for that, later.
Pausing for just a moment to catch her breath, Pixie’s head came up. Was that…?Yes.She heard running water, and her heart thumped with anticipation. She knew what a stream meant. It was a lesson she’d learned from her father on one of the many fishing trips she’d taken with him. If you followed ariver downstream, you’d almost always came to some kind of civilization.
Yes! A plan. It’s what Pixie had been lacking, and what buoyed her spirits, now.
With a goal finally and firmly in mind—as well as the possibility that Peter might still be on her heels—she took off once again in the direction of the sound she hoped would lead her to the nearest town.
An added bonus? Once she made it to the body of water, the cold liquid would feel damned good on her abused feet.
Doug had been watchinghis teammate’s head which had been on a constant swivel, up and down, side to side, alternating between mimicking a tracking-hound and an air-sniffing-canine. Approximately two miles into the woods from where the cabin stood, Amos, a few steps ahead of Doug, stopped dead.
