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She gripped the wheel tighter and sped up. “I can’t go much faster, or we’ll bounce off the road.” The SUV jumped and jolted, and every bend in the road was an adventure—would they jump off the inside or outside of the turn? The car shuddered, skidding around another corner. A plume of dust to her right betrayed their pursuit, but that vehicle must have an even rougher ride.
“Aviss, Mills. They started a cattle stampede to drive us out. One vehicle in pursuit. We’ll have to hit the highway soon, from the south ranch access. They’ll be waiting for us.”
Sam yelled, “Trevor got shot!” He’d never tell, and Aviss needed to know.
“I’m fine. It’s a crease. Go ahead.” Trevor scowled at her in the rear-view mirror. “Okay. We’ll go south if possible, then west. We’ll stay on back roads and head north eventually. Or find a hiding spot. Copy that. Mills out.”
Sam grimaced. “Another fun night of camping?” They pulled ahead of the chase car, but she had to slow for the next bend.
“Better than dying. Block your right ear. I’m firing.” The rifle boomed. “Got ‘em!”
Letting go of the wheel hadn’t been an option. She winced, and the high-pitch tone in her ears increased. They were nearing an intersection; a sign directed them left for the highway north, right for south. “Highway or long way around?” She raised her voice so he’d hear.
“Do you know this area?”
“Yes.” Sam had visited an elderly client to the southeast. Finding the house had been challenging, and she’d gotten lost several times.
“Turn right! That’s the opposite way.”
Sam turned right, driving southeast. They’d cross the highway, take some rough back roads, and end up near the East Fork of the Bitterroot River. Or they could drive straight east over Skalkaho Pass and go to Phillipsburg or Anaconda. There were plenty of hiding places along the way, plus it was unlikely anyone would look for them in Anaconda. Although the shattered windows and headlights of the SUV stood out.
Trevor leaned forward between the seats. “Can we circle to the north, eventually?”
“Only by going to Phillipsburg, then Missoula and south.”
He nodded. “Okay. If there’s an intersection that can take us back to the highway, stop there and I’ll contact Aviss again.” He sat back.
“All right.” Sam desperately wished she was in her office, working on a simple document. A life of danger wasn’t her thing. She had a classic case of “be careful what you wish for.” She longed for boring and stable—adventure brought little but terror and exhaustion. They jolted over the washboard road, and she pulled over at the next intersection.
“Don’t turn the car off.” Trevor returned to the passenger seat, his phone in his hand. He dialed and put it on speaker. “Aviss, Mills. Took out the pursuit. We can go east or south or return west. No option for north on the back roads.” He opened the map book. “Copy that. Will do. Mills out.”
Sam grimaced, anticipating Aviss’s orders. Probably another night of camping.
Trevor turned toward her. “She suggests we head east and approach our new safe house from the north.” He peered out the windshield. “Doesn’t look like there’s much snow in the mountains yet, so we should be safe to get across the pass, right?”
She’d suggested it, but what if the highway department had already shut the gates for the winter? “Can we check Montana DOT safely?”
Trevor shrugged. “Sure. We’ve already used a cell signal, if they’re tracking us that way. I’ll shut the phone down when we leave. Which we need to do soon.” He brought up the browser and the website. “Still open. Let’s go.”
She put the SUV in drive and pulled on to the road, heading east. But Trevor’s phone rang, so she stopped again in the middle of the road. Traffic was non-existent, and the rushing wind from the broken windows was too much to hear over.
“Mills, Aviss. You’ve both got an appointment with the bank tomorrow at eleven in the morning. I’ll make sure you get appropriate clothing, and I’m bringing in a protective detail, but they won’t be in place until tomorrow. Check your email for details.”
“Copy appointment at eleven.” Trevor looked at Sam and shrugged.
“Aviss out.”
He disconnected and turned the phone off. “Is your phone still on?”
“I think so. Sorry.” Sam grimaced. She’d forgotten. “It’s in my backpack.”
Trevor reached between the seats and pulled the pack into his lap. “No worries. Drive.”
“Sure.” She put the SUV back in drive, turning left on the road that would take them to Skalkaho Highway. “Pretty sure this road is the southern border of the ranch we were just on.”
Trevor pulled her phone out and powered it down. “I’ll watch for pursuit.”
Her life had become so strange. She’d gone from legal work, where the most excitement was an angry spousal confrontation, to being chased through the Rocky Mountains. They left the ranch lands behind, crossed Skalkaho Creek, and turned east on the paved highway. Fifteen miles later, the road turned to dirt again, and nearing the waterfall, she slowed. Even after tourist season, people often stopped to take pictures, sometimes in the middle of the road. As predicted, cars parked on both sides of the narrow highway, and people crossed without looking.
