Laurel answered immediately. “Agent Snow.”
Abigail pressed the play button. “I can’t do this anymore,” Jason burst out through the recorder. “It’s too much.”
“Jason?” Laurel asked, her voice rising. “I can help you. Let me help you.”
Abigail ended the call but left the phone turned on. She shoved it into her back pocket and patted his head. “It was fun, Jason. Sorry you have to go like this.”
She pushed the seat all the way back, put the truck in Drive, and then shut the door. Taking a deep breath, she walked around to the back. It was good she’d found this flat area. Now all she had to do was give the truck a little nudge. She considered the options and then quickly put two of the gasoline cans in the truck with him—just in case.
Holding her breath, she returned to the rear of the truck and pushed with all her might. The vehicle hitched slightly. Damn it. If he’d stolen a newer truck, the torque converter would most likely propel the vehicle down easier. But not Jason. No. He’d secured this old clunker. She only needed a few inches, and then gravity would take over. Grunting, she set her feet and then pushed hard, using the strength in her legs.
“Jason, you’re a pain in my ass.” She put both gloved hands against the dented metal, grunted, and pushed. The truck finally moved.
The front of the vehicle tipped over, hitting the lower ledge and jumping before continuing to roll.
“There you go.” She gave one more push.
The truck silently coasted off the cliff.
She ran to the edge and looked down into the darkness. A loud bang echoed up and then several glorious crashes beat against the wind. Ooh, it must’ve gone end over end over end. Finally, the truck hit the bottom and an explosion rippled up.
The fire rose high in the sky.
“Wow.” Pretty impressive. Smiling, she turned and broke into a run, heading back to the cabin. It took her about fifteen minutes through the trees. She arrived as the rain began falling in earnest, noting that the drops were already extinguishing the campfire. Shrugging, she reached for the discarded can and quickly squirted more accelerant on the papers. Might as well make sure they burned. Oh, she didn’t mind if anybody found his journals as long as they couldn’t read them.
She tossed the phones from the downed officers against the rocks surrounding the fire.
Reclaiming her weapon, she surveyed the area and then returned to the borrowed car. Time was ticking, ticking, ticking. She slid inside, ignited the engine, and turned around just as a more punishing rain began to fall and the wind whipped up in a frenzy.
Mother nature was on her fucking side. For certain.
She took back roads and made it to Mr. O’Casey’s farm, where she shut off the lights and quietly drove the car beneath his carport. The old guy went to bed at eight every night and rose with the sun. She’d filched a copy of his car keys a year ago, just in case, and once in a while, she borrowed his Cadillac.
He never noticed.
She put all of her possessions in the backpack and made sure the car was exactly as he’d left it before quietly shutting the door and then turning to run.
The distance from the carport to her backyard was only a mile and a half through forest land, so she could easily make it in time to snuggle down in her bed.
Around her, the storm still raged.
Chapter 31
Swirling blue-and-red lights lit up the tumultuous spring storm as Huck rolled to a stop in front of a now-quashed campfire. Laurel jumped out, her gun at her waist, and ducked beneath the crime scene tape, looking around wildly. Fish and Wildlife Officer Monty Buckley strode toward her.
“Where’s the phone?” she asked.
Monty pointed to one of two phones partially resting against the stone ring around the campfire. “It’s there, left on. We were able to trace it easily. A gun, a CZ, is resting against that tree over there.” The wind burst against them, throwing branches around as if having a tantrum.
Laurel ducked and held a hand out to protect her head. Why would Jason leave a weapon outside in the rain? “Have we found anything?”
“No,” Monty said. “Jason Abbott has been living here, from what I can tell from the cabin, but I don’t see a vehicle. We have people out scouting for it.”
None of this tracked. Why would Jason callherto say he couldn’t go on? Why hang up but leave the phone on? The man was smart enough to know that the GPS would immediately be traced.
“This isn’t good,” Huck said.
Monty sighed. “Should you be here?”
