âWhy do you think someone wants to harm you?â he asked.
âI witnessed a crime.â
They turned a corner and he stopped short.
âWhat?â She looked around him.
A stranger was coming out of Willâs cabin.
âDo you recognize him?â she said.
âNo.â He motioned to a nearby tree. âHide back there. Iâll check it out.â
âIt could be dangerous.â
âOr simply a hiker lost in the mountains. Kinda like you.â Will smiled and nodded toward the tree. âGo on.â
âMaybe you should take this.â She offered him the gun.
An odd smile creased his lips. âThanks, but you keep it.â
She nodded and watched him walk away, shielding herself behind the tree. From this vantage point she could watch the scene unfold, not that she had a great escape plan.
Suddenly, a gunshot echoed across the property.
ONE
FBI agent Sara Vaughn awoke with a start, her heart pounding against her chest. Darkness surrounded her and it took a second for her eyes to adjust.
Panic took hold. No, she was beyond that. Sheâd outgrown it.
She counted to three, taking a deep breath, then exhaled. She clicked on her headlamp. Tall, majestic evergreen trees stretched up toward the starlit sky.
The mountains. She was in the Cascade Mountains following a lead that her supervisor, Greg Bonner, said was a waste of time.
Sara knew better.
The sound of deep male voices echoed from beyond a cluster of trees to her left.
âBe reasonable, David!â a man shouted.
David Price was one of the three business partners who were on this mountain getaway. The other men were Victor LaRouche and Ted Harrington, and together they owned the drug company LHP, Inc.
Sara made her way toward the sound of raised voices.
She was proud of herself for managing to get on the trail guide team hired to lead them up Echo Mountain. This isolated spot in the Cascade Mountains of Washington would surely give the men the privacy they needed to solidify their plan.
Getting a dangerous drug into the hands of unsuspecting consumers.
âWhy do you have to make this so hard?â
She recognized Vic LaRoucheâs voice because of its Southern twang.
She stayed off the main trail, not wanting to alert them to her presence, and made her way through the brush. Edging around a large boulder, she stepped over a fallen branch in silence. She needed to stay invisible, hidden. Something she was good at.
The men were no doubt having this discussion a safe distance away from the lead guide, Ned, so as not to wake him. It didnât take much to wake Sara. Even in sleep, she was always on alert.
âItâs not right and you both know it,â David said.
âIt was an anomaly, a mistake,â Ted Harrington said.
âA mistake that could kill people.â
âDonât be dramatic,â LaRouche said.
This was itâthe evidence sheâd been looking for.
She pulled out her phone, hoping to record some of their conversation. If she could catch them admitting to their plan, it would go a long way to proving she was right, that she wasnât just an âoverzealousâ agent trying to prove something.
She crept closer, shielding herself behind a towering western hemlock. Digging her fingers into the bark, she peeked around the tree. The three men hovered beside a small campfire, the flames illuminating their faces. LaRouche and Harrington were tall, middle-aged men, older than David Price by at least ten years.
âIâm not in business to hurt people,â David said.