Cold Pursuit
A prominent ambassador is killed in a suspicious hit-and-run in Washington, D.C. Hours later, his stepdaughter vanishes in the mountains of northern New England. Back in her hometown of Black Falls, Vermont, to do damage control on her career, Secret Service agent Jo Harper is drawn into the search. But her efforts face an unexpected challenge: Elijah Cameron. With his military training and mountain rescue experience, Elijah knows the unforgiving terrain better than anyone.But he and Jo have been at odds forever–and Elijah believes the missing teenager isn't just lost…she's on the run. Forced to work together, Jo and Elijah battle time and the elements in a race into the unforgiving mountains. The twists and turns awaiting them will take them closer to the explosive truth…and into the sights of a killer.
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Praise for
New York Times bestselling author Carla Neggers
âWhen it comes to romance, adventure and suspense, nobody delivers like Carla Neggers.â
âJayne Ann Krentz
âFans of romantic suspense will be charmed.â
âPublishers Weekly on The Angel
âSuspense, romance and the rocky Maine coastâwhat more could a reader ask? The Harbor has it all.â
âTess Gerritsen
âNeggers keeps the reader guessing âwhodunitâ to the end of her intriguing novel.â
âPublishers Weekly on The Widow
âNeggers has created yet another well-matched pair of characters and given them a crackerjack mystery to solveâcomplete with a seriously creepy villain.â
âRomantic Times BOOKreviews on Abandon
â[Neggersâs] skill at creating colorful characters and deliciously twisted story lines makes this an addictive read.â
âPublishers Weekly on Stonebrook Cottage
âA keen ear for dialogue and a sure hand with multidimensional characterizations are Neggersâ greatest gifts as a storytellerâ¦. By turns creepy and amusing.â
âRomantic Times BOOKreviews on Breakwater
âCarla Neggers is one of the most distinctive, talented writers of our genre.â
âDebbie Macomber
CARLA NEGGERS
COLD PURSUIT
To my brother-in-law Bill Ochs
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Special thanks to Lieutenant Jocelyn Stohl of the Vermont State Police and to Susan Bayley and Kenneth Thibodeaux of the White River Junction (Vermont) Veterans Affairs Medical Center for your help, as well as for the remarkable work you do. Once again I want to thank Paul Hudsonâjudge, scholar, friend and a Vermonter with deep roots in this incredibly beautiful part of our country.
And, as always, many thanks to Joe, Kate, Conor and Zack. We do have fun together!
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Prologue
Drew Cameron slipped and went down on one knee in the heavy, wet spring snow, but he forced himself back up again, propelled by a sense of urgency he had never known before.
Not Elijah.
Please, God. Not my sonâ¦.
Drew took another step, then another, pushing against the fierce wind. Sleet cut into his face and pelted onto the snow-covered trees and juts of granite on the steep terrain. The mid-April storm was worse than was forecasted. In the valley, daffodils were starting to pop up out of the ground. It was mud season in Vermont. If anything, heâd worried about causing more erosion on the trails, still wet from the melting winter snows.
He hadnât bothered strapping a pair of snowshoes onto his pack in case conditions warrantedâa mistake, he realized now.
But he refused to turn back.
He had gone off the main trail hours ago, but he knew every inch of Cameron Mountain. By now, the snow would have covered any footprints heâd left. If anything happened to him, heâd be lucky if searchers found his body for his family to bury.
âI donât care.â He spoke in a ragged whisper. âTake me.â
Take me instead of my son.
How many fathers through the millennia had cried out those same words?
Drew coughed and spat, catching his breath as he came to a lull in the upward sweep of the mountain. The summit was another thousand feet up, but he had no intention of going that far. In all his seventy-seven years, he had never operated on such blind instinct. He couldnât stop himselfâhe had to be here, now, at this moment, asking questions, searching for answers.
He wasnât an emotional man, but he couldnât shake the fear that had gripped him since dawn.
He couldnât shake the images.
The certainty.
Iâm an old man.
Let me die in my sonâs place.
As he eased among a dense grove of tall spruce trees, their branches drooping under the weight of the clinging, wet snow, he saw young men huddled, battling an unseen enemy.
He saw their blood oozing into the ground of the faraway land where they fought.
He heard their moans of pain amid the rapid, nonstop gunfire.
An ambushâ¦
The vision wasnât born of books and movies, and it wasnât a nightmare to be chased off with daylight and coffee. It was real. Every second of it. Drew didnât understand how the vision of his son in battle had come to him, but he trusted itâbelieved it.
It wasnât a premonition. The attack on Elijahâs position wasnât imminentâit was happening now.
Drew stood up straight, out of the worst of the wind. The ice had abruptly changed back to snow. Fat flakes fell silently in the white landscape, but he saw, as clearly as if he were there, the bright stars of the moonless Afghan night. Elijah never talked about his secret missions. He had joined the army at nineteen, without discussing his decision with anyoneânot his two brothers, his sister, his friends.
