Damn, she wished she had that shotgun now.
“Come on, sweetheart. You know you don’t really belong here. These people are nut-job idealists. They don’t understand how the world works.”
He was using his courtroom voice on her, laying the charm on thick. She used to think he sounded smart and trustworthy, but now she saw him for what he’d been all along. A slimy slickster who wouldn’t know the truth if it bit him in the ass. Jesse’s gruff but honest rumble was music to her ears. Cade and his frustrating Atlas complex was so much more lovable and true than Patrick. She took a deep breath as her hand sank into her voluminous bag. Where was it?
Lipstick. Snack-size bag of almonds. Notepad. God, why did she have all that crap? How many pens did one woman need?
“Do you know who owns Tremon? Martin Tremon. But who is his biggest stockholder?”
Gemma stopped. Senator Allen Cameron was the largest stockholder. Senator Allen Cameron, who was about to run for president on a green energy platform. He was ahead in all the polls. He was the perfect blend of conservative and forward-thinking businessman. She’d heard some interesting rumors about the senator’s personal life. There were rumors of one son who didn’t speak to him and another who he’d swept under the rug long before, but nothing that would cost him the election.
A company he was heavily invested in polluting a town to the point that children were dying. Oh, yeah, that would do it. Cameron hid his investments under cloaks of anonymous corporations, but someone could untangle that web and likely would. If he wanted to win the election, Calvin Township had to be clean.
Patrick had to kill her. He had to. Then he had to kill Nell and Henry and anyone else who might know something about this.
“Sweetheart, you know he’s going to win the election. And I’m going to end up working at the White House. You can come with me.”
In a coffin.
“You know we can get out of this,” Patrick continued. “All you have to do is tell that idiot sheriff about how your boyfriend out there was screwing around with the dipshit activist and how her husband killed them both and then turned the gun on himself.”
So that was supposed to be his out. Nate would never believe it. But Patrick was arrogant. He thought he could get away with anything. Air horn. Why was she carrying that stupid air horn that, according to everyone, would just piss off the bears?
And there it was. Finally. Pepper spray. She flipped the safety button off and waited.
“We could rule Washington, babe. You and me. Leave Giles and Knoxbury behind and ride Cameron’s coattails all the way to the Supreme Court.”
She couldn’t tell where he was. The sound seemed to bounce off the trees, making it sound like his voice came from everywhere all at once. And then there was the sound of her heartbeat. It seemed to pound out of her chest, an alert to anyone and anything close that she was here and waiting to be taken down. Despite the cool evening air, she’d broken into a sweat. Her hand shook as she clutched the little vial of pepper spray. She’d never used it before. Even in New York, she’d felt fairly safe.
“Or I can just kill you here and frame the dumbass myself.” Patrick moved from behind the tree. The darkness couldn’t mask the self-satisfied smile on his face. “Guess your smarts don’t win over my ambition after all.”
But her pepper spray beat his gun because she didn’t hesitate. She did exactly what the instruction manual had said. She sprayed, moving her hand back and forth in a waving motion.
Patrick screamed and the gun went off, narrowly missing her.
Gemma took off because he was firing blind now, and he didn’t seem to care. She ran as fast and hard as she could, looking back to see if he was coming.
And then the world tilted on its axis. Or at least that was the way it felt. Gemma’s foot hit a rock and she fell, her hands going out to catch herself, but she didn’t hit the ground. Water filled her world. Cold and rushing fast. She hit the water and started to go under.
So freaking cold. She’d never felt cold permeate her skin the way the waters of the Rio Grande did. She tried to kick up. Her hand broke the surface all the way to her elbow. She could feel the air.
But she couldn’t get to it. Her left foot moved freely, but her right foot had jammed when she fell. She was caught in a fallen log, her foot tangling in its branches, holding her under.
Panic swamped Gemma’s every sense. Jesse was dying and so was she. How would Cade survive?
She pulled and pulled and tried to get her foot free. The sandal was stuck. And no one would know where she was. She would drown so close to the surface.
Air horn. It might not scare the freaking bears but it could do what it had been made to do—alert someone to where she was.
It might be Patrick. Or it might be Henry.
A bullet or a savior. Anything was better than dying like this. Cold and alone.
Live. Her one new mandate. She wasn’t going to break it now. She dug into her bag, items she no longer needed floating away with the river.
She grabbed the air horn and let the rest go.
With one final hope, she thrust her arm up and pressed the button.
Cade shot out of the truck the minute Nate hit the brakes.
“Goddamn it, Cade!”
He could hear Nate yelling, but he didn’t care. In the distance, he saw red and blue flashing signals. Either the night shift at the sheriff’s or Ty.
“We’re over here.” Nell was on her knees over a prone figure.
Jesse. Oh, his heart nearly stopped as he saw Jesse lying there on the ground. His best friend. His brother. Why the fuck had he left? It had been easier than staying. Easier than just trying to be a better man. And now Jesse’s blood soaked the ground around him.
Someone plowed through, shoving him to the side. Caleb Burke. He set his kit on the ground. “Baby, I need some light. Alexei, you keep anyone who fucking comes close off me.”
Holly Lang immediately stood over Jesse’s body and shined a flashlight down, while Alexei tugged on Cade’s shirt. “Come and allow doctor to work on friend.”
“He’s unconscious. GSW to the abdomen. I need an ambulance. He needs surgery.” Caleb turned his eyes up to Cade. “He’s strong. Nell stopped a lot of the bleeding. I just need to dig the bullet out and make sure he didn’t nick any vitals. Ty was five minutes behind me. Go find Gemma.”
With a deep sigh of relief, he turned to Nell, who was talking to Nate and Cam.
“I think they went to the backwoods. By the river.”
The river. Every muscle in his body stiffened, and his brain threatened to stop functioning. The river. It would always come back to her. Flashes of the night hit his brain. The cold. The dank air that filled his lungs before nothing could. His sister’s eyes as she died.
And none of it mattered. All that mattered was Gemma.
He very calmly worked his way around the building as Nate and Cam planned a strategy. His strategy was to find Gemma and take any bullet that came her way. And to keep her away from the freaking river.
He heard a flurry of bullets and took off. Nate was suddenly on his heels, and Cam managed to get in front of him. Cam ran like a freaking running back, sprinting ahead, his gun in his hand. Nate grabbed at Cade, forcing him to stop.
“You will not get killed while I’m on duty.”
Panic threatened to overtake him. “Please. God, Nate, I love her. What would you do if it was Callie out there?”
“If I wasn’t trained? I would let me do my goddamn job. That man has a gun and he’s using it.” Nate’s face was fierce. “You stay here or I’ll use mine on you and I will put your ass in jail for obstruction of justice.”
Cade stopped. What was he doing? Charging in when he didn’t even have a gun. Hadn’t he fucked up enough? Did he just have to keep on doing it?