“Hard to say. Suzette’s been pretty shaken up. Says they’ve been here since yesterday evening.”
Sierra nodded, pulling out her medical kit. “What happened? How did you get hurt?”
Suzette’s eyes focused on Sierra’s face with obvious effort. “We were hiking. Following the trail toward the creek. Then we heard—” She shuddered. “A gunshot. Close. Really close.”
“Where exactly?”
“Maybe a quarter mile from here? We were near that old ranch house when we heard it. Roland said we should go back, but then we saw someone in the trees. A man.”
Sierra’s blood turned to ice. “What did he look like?”
“I don’t know. Like a hunter, maybe? He had a rifle. He was with another man. They were arguing and…then when he saw us, one of the men took off. And so did we.”
“Why’d you run?”
“Too many movies?” Suzette made a face. “Instinct, maybe. When we heard the gunshot, Roland grabbed my hand and we took off through the trees. But the terrain was so rough, and it was getting dark. Roland tripped on a root and went down hard. I heard his leg snap.” Suzette’s voice broke. “I managed to get him here, but he’s been in and out of consciousness all night.”
Sierra processed this information while splinting Roland’s leg.
“This man you saw,” Jackson said. “Did he follow you?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. I kept looking over my shoulder, but it was getting dark. Every shadow looked like someone watching us.”
Sierra keyed her radio. “Base, this is Sierra. We need immediate helicopter extraction for one broken leg, possible concussion. Also requesting law enforcement support. Hikers report encountering armed individual in the area.”
“Copy, Sierra. Sheriff’s deputies are en route to your location.”
They worked to stabilize Roland for transport.
“What house is she talking about?” Jackson asked.
“Oh, it’s the old Wallace house,” Sierra said. “It’s on Jenkins land, but near the creek that forms the boundary between the Jenkins land and the national forest. And our land is right next door. Paige, help me get him on the stretcher,” Sierra said. “We need to move before that weather hits.”
Dark clouds were building over the western peaks, and the wind was picking up. They had maybe two hours before the storm arrived.
As they carried Roland down the mountainside, Suzette walking beside them, Sierra couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched. The hair on the back of her neck prickled every time they passed through a stand of trees or around a bend in the trail.
“There.” Suzette suddenly stopped, pointing to an opening in the pine trees. And through them, across the river, Sierra spotted the road that ran between her property and the Jenkins place. “That’s where we saw him.”
And the old Wallace place. The house commanded a clear view of the entire valley below, including the trail system and the distant ranch lands. The yellow single-story frame house sat in a clearing surrounded by towering cottonwoods and scrub oak, weathered but still solid after decades of mountain winters. A covered porch ran across the front, supported by simple wooden posts, while a lean-to addition stretched along one side. The metal roof showed patches of rust, and several windows were boarded up with plywood, but the structure looked sturdy enough.
The place had that abandoned look of a homestead where the family had simply walked away one day and never come back.
Really, they had, according to…
“Yeah, no one lives there now,” she said, and made a mental note to ask Detective Martinelli to swing by. Not that trespassers mattered—no one was coming home to claim it.
The ambulance was waiting just ahead, in the trailhead parking lot. Jackson greeted his coworkers, then helped load Roland into the ambulance.
“You okay?” Jackson said as the ambulance drove away.
She’d been staring at the house, of course. She’d only visited once, and that had…that had gone badly.
“I’m fine. I need to get into town and pick up Huck.”
Paige walked up with her German shepherd, Rex, at her side. The K-9 handler’s radio crackled in her hand. “Police want to debrief you and your team. Can you come in?”
Sierra keyed the mic, her eyes still fixed on the hills above her ranch. “Copy, base. We’re on our way.”
