The Severed Pines Page 13

  Reese wanted to ask her why. But, he knew it wouldn’t matter. Something had jumped into her brain to make her want to kill this innocent woman and child, and no answer would satisfy him.

  And Reese had to say a silent apology to Ben, because whatever emergency Ben was having back in the park, Reese wasn’t going to be able to rush back there to help him anytime soon.

  Chapter Thirty

  The bullet from Avery’s gun whizzed past Ben, zipping out into the night air and disappearing in the blackness. Ben ducked and surveyed his options. Avery was fifty feet away, near a bend in the future hallway. He needed to reach Avery, but if he tried to close the distance between them, Avery would have a better shot.

  “How did you know?” Avery said, shouting it over the echo of the gun blast.

  “Your shoes, mostly,” Ben said. “You left scuff marks on my floor.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “It was the only thing that made any sense — you’re the only one of us who wears shoes like that.”

  Avery’s frown threatened to swallow his face. Ben couldn’t tell for sure, but it looked like he was crying. “I never wanted this.”

  “Why did you do it, Avery? How did this happen?”

  Avery opened his mouth to respond, but then he dashed to his right, down the hall, away from Ben. If he moved past the building, there were several paths he could take into the hills behind the construction.

  Ben took off, gripping the tire iron in his hand. Heart pounding, feet slipping and sliding on the snow-dusted concrete floor of the shell of a building, he raced toward the bend in the hallway. Then, as he neared it, a thought appeared: what if Avery was hiding right on the other side of the bend, waiting to shoot him?

  He slowed. Had to think this through.

  At the edge of this hallway, just before the turn, he paused and raised the tire iron. He readied himself to swing it. The grip was cold in his hands, harsh, and heavy. The sudden realization that he might be seconds away from bashing in someone’s head dawned on him, and it wasn’t a pleasant concept to ponder. Ben had never considered himself a violent person.

  But tonight, out here in the snow and cold, he would either become one, or he would die at the hands of this crazy, money-laundering assistant superintendent of Rocky Mountain National Park.

  Avery had seen him. Maybe he was running away for now, but he would come to his senses and realize he needed to kill Ben. If he was capable of killing William, he was capable of doing it to Ben, too.

  Ben jumped around the edge. No Avery there to greet him.

  Ben squinted and saw a figure dashing along the concrete, then take a jump off the far end of the building, landing in the dirt beyond it. He had a thirty second head start.

  Ben gritted his teeth and sprinted after him. All the while, he tracked Avery as he fled. Behind the construction, a small hill led to a massive valley on the other side of it. Surrounding that valley was a ring of several mountain peaks, but Ben couldn’t recall any of their names at the moment. Wild Basin was an area of the park he wasn’t too familiar with.

  That meant if Avery slipped into the backcountry, Ben might never find him. Avery would have a long slog ahead of him, but there were plenty of ways to exit the park that didn’t involve the main roads.

  By the time Ben reached the edge of the hallway and leaped down to the ground, Avery was already nearing the top of the hill. For a moment, Ben did consider letting him go. The cops would be here soon. They had William’s body back in the unfinished building.

  But it wouldn’t necessarily prove Avery to be the killer. If he got away, that changed everything. William needed justice.

  Ben raced across the dirt, which was quickly turning into muck from the continuing snowfall. A million trees lined the hill in front of him, and he huffed and puffed as he climbed the slope, headed in the general direction Avery had vanished from.

  When Ben reached the top, he paused. Held his breath. No sign of Avery. Before him, the valley spread out, seemingly endless. Pine trees like fat needles pricked the sky and lined the ground in every direction. If Avery had made it down there, he could be lost forever.

  He blinked a few times and listened. Avery hadn’t had that much of a head start. He had to be nearby. There had to be some sign of the man, but the more Ben concentrated, the less sure he felt. It was as if his target had vanished into thin air.

  For the next few minutes, Ben kept low to the ground, practically crawling along between the trees as he slowly descended the hillside into the valley. He kept the tire iron high and tried to ease his breathing as much as possible. The falling snow made detecting Avery by sight nearly impossible, so he focused on his ears. If Avery was sprinting through the trees, Ben would hear it.

  With the number of downed logs and broken sticks on the ground, something would give way. Patience and focus. Patience and focus.

  He pressed on, around each tree, pausing and listening. For two or three minutes, he skulked around like this, hoping for something to break.

  And after five full minutes of searching, a twig snapped nearby. Ben spun to see a brown bear two hundred feet back up the hill, its nose pushing into a thicket of tree limbs on the ground and then stumbling away from the tree. Paying no attention to Ben, the beast wandered in the valley below him. It was paying him no attention now, but Ben knew all too well how quickly that attention could swing in his direction.

  Ben eyed the creature, at the dusting of white snow highlighting the beast’s frame. Breaths pushing from the bear’s mouth rose as steam into the night air. Like a furry chimney. Ben’s mind raced, playing back a memory from a time half a decade ago.

  A bear. A cub. My father. My brother.

  He shuddered. He’d spent plenty of time since that fateful morning working with grizzlies, plenty of time working to overcome his fears. He’d been in this exact position before, been standing here before.

  Scared. Still. Adrenaline pumping.

  Then, Ben heard a gasp. Not far from the bear, Avery turned, one hand wrapped around a tree.

  His other hand held the pistol.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Avery was standing two-hundred feet away, on a parallel level with Ben. Not that far. Far enough that a shot from a pistol, even from a man who wasn’t terribly well-trained, had a decent percent chance of hitting its target.

  And Ben wasn’t excited about anything above zero percent.

  Avery’s eyes locked onto the bear, and the bear lifted its head. The beast let out a single, curious grunt, and Avery dropped the gun, turned back up toward the hill, and ran.

  He dropped the gun.

  Rather than worrying about a crazed gunman, Ben now had to contend with the fact that he was the closest thing to the bear, who was now very aware of their presence. Ben didn’t hesitate. He raced toward the spot Avery had vacated. The bear, confused, cocked its head and wandered off, back down into the valley. Not interested in these odd little human games.

  Ben reached the gun in ten seconds. He scooped it up and forced his legs to pound the ground as hard as he could. Going uphill, his leg muscles bellowed and cried, but Ben made it up to the top of the hill while Avery was already past the construction site down below, leaping toward a terrified Taylor. The two of them grappled, becoming a mess on the ground as they rolled and wrestled.

  Why hadn’t Taylor swung the tire iron?

  Avery pulled Taylor to his feet as Ben finished his descent of the hill and came to the flat first parking lot area. Three hundred feet away. Chest pounding, ears ringing from the effort.

  Avery, now behind Taylor, wrapped a hand around his neck. Somewhere in the last few seconds, he’d unsheathed a knife, which he placed against Taylor’s throat.

  Ben, revolver hoisted, continued toward them. Too far away to shoot, but maybe Avery would give up now, given the disparity in weapons.

  “Stay back!” Avery shouted, his voice near a fever pitch.

  Through the trees, Ben
saw the faraway red and blue lights of approaching police cars. The faint sounds of sirens echoed and bounced off the surrounding hills.

  “Do you hear that?” Ben said as he took tentative steps in that direction. Snowy dirt shuffled over his shoes. “It’s over. The cops will be here any second, and I saw you trying to move William’s body. I’ll bet your fingerprints are all over it.”

  “Shut up!” Avery was vibrating, shaking, the knife point close enough to Taylor’s throat that it drew a bead of blood. “I can’t think!”

  Ben, still pacing slowly, looked down the revolver’s sight. Avery was holding Taylor close enough to block most of his body. Taylor, frozen, stared at Ben with wide eyes and all the color drained from his face.

  Ben had options. He could try to shoot for Avery’s arm, or his leg, or his head, but he knew his chances were slim. Odds were, he’d hit Taylor, and ruin everything in the process. Killing Taylor was not a good way to come out of this.

  He had to get Taylor away. No way he could safely take the shot at some exposed extremity. He wasn’t a military marksman.

  “You had to get nosy,” Avery said. “All of this is your fault, you know that? William had to go, because he found out about the construction. But you could have stopped anyone else from getting hurt if you’d just left it alone. If you’d only gotten the damn message, then nobody else would’ve had to get hurt.”

  “It doesn’t matter any more,” Ben said as he took smaller and smaller steps. Closer now. Another twenty feet, and maybe he’d be close enough to take the shot. But not until his chest stopped pounding. He didn’t know if he could even aim the thing, as tired and wired as he was.

  “This is your fault,” Avery said, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Do you think I wanted this? That I wanted any of this?”

  Ben took a few more steps. Now, shuffling his feet a few inches at a time.

  Avery seemed to snap awake in that moment as his eyes fell to Ben’s feet. “That’s enough! Stop walking. If you come another step closer, I swear to God I will cut his throat.”

  Taylor whimpered, and Ben now noted the tire iron was sticking out of his front pocket. Avery hadn’t noticed it yet.

  The police lights came into view. Their sirens wailed louder and louder. Maybe thirty seconds away.

  Too far. Too much time.

  Ben needed a plan. Something that would get him and Taylor out of there without getting shot, stabbed, or mauled. He deliberated, straining for anything at all that he could use to —

  “Taylor,” Ben said, suddenly realizing. He straightened up. “Taylor, listen to me.”

  The superintendent looked up, his bleary eyes vacant and hollow. He seemed more like a ghost than a man.

  “Taylor. What’s in your trunk?”

  For a second, both Avery and Taylor looked confused. Cocked their heads. Avery frowned. “The hell are you talking ab—”

  “Maybe we can iron this all out later,” Ben said, his eyes still on Taylor.

  And then, something in Taylor’s face changed.

  He understood.

  Come on, Taylor, Ben thought.

  Now, if he would only take action. Ben stared at him, intent, trying to will him to do the thing he wanted him to do.

  Taylor gritted his teeth.

  With his free hand, he snatched the tire iron and slammed it down onto Avery’s knee.

  Avery howled and relaxed his grip on the knife.

  Ben shouted, “go!”

  Taylor dove forward, headfirst in the dirt. Avery lunged after him, and Ben put both hands on the gun and howled, “don’t move!”

  But, Avery wouldn’t stop. He raised the knife, aiming to jab it into Taylor’s back. Ben lifted the revolver, with only a split second to aim. He centered Avery’s chest down the sight and drew in a breath.

  He squeezed the trigger.

  The blast knocked him back a half step, jarring him. Much louder than he’d expected, only twenty inches away from the shot. Like firing a bottle rocket from his hand, only bigger and more ferocious. His nose itched.

  The night air lit up in a wave as the bullet raced across the space between them. As soon as he’d pulled the trigger, Ben knew what was about to happen. Someone was about to die, at his hand.

  Avery clutched his stomach and stepped backward. Blood immediately coated his hand. His eyes shot wide open, his mouth gasping and his face a pained grimace.

  He sank to his knees just as the police car rounded the bend and threw dirt mixed with snow up underneath its spinning tires.

  Avery and Ben made eye contact, and Avery blinked a few times, then he sat back. Ben also collapsed, out of breath, unable to hear the cop car sirens any longer.

  Avery took his hand off the wound and put both of his hands in his lap. As the police left their vehicles and raced toward them, Ben dropped the pistol in the dirt and raised his hands over his head. The cops encircled the group of men, and shouted and pointed weapons at all of them.

  The next few minutes happened in a blur. Ben stood silent, stoic, waiting for orders. He was told to get down on the ground, then handcuffed, then yanked back up again. He was pushed around, asked a few questions, but mostly ignored. They’d apparently not deemed him a threat, though there were a few eyes on him at all times.

  One of the pairs of eyes belonged to one of the officers he’d noticed earlier — the hot female cop — but she was somehow more distant than the others as she watched him. She wasn’t paying attention to her comrades, or their work. She focused on Ben, and Ben alone. She didn’t seem real, didn’t seem as though she was truly part of the scene. Finally, after ten minutes of staring and watching, she turned and walked toward her car.

  He frowned. There was something about her —

  He recognized the woman now. Or rather, he recognized something about her.

  She had a certain gait about her, something about the way she was walking. It wasn’t quite a swagger, but there was a forward-leaning confidence to it that he would have recognized anywhere.

  A sister of one of the thugs who tried to kill me back at William’s cabin? he wondered. Or maybe she was one of the thugs?

  Before he could make up his mind, the cop disappeared into her squad car and shut the door.

  Ben stared down at the implement of destruction as a fresh dusting of snow immediately turned it white.

  Epilogue

  Ben opened the door to the visitor center with one hand, the other hand clutching his Rocky Mountain National Park uniform, tucked under his armpit. Susan the cashier in the gift shop smiled at him, but it took her a second. Maybe she didn’t recognize him in jeans and a hoodie at first. He was almost incognito, blending in with all the other civilians wandering around the building.

  But he wasn’t here to watch the park movie or browse the exhibits. This would be his last day on the job, and the last time he would grace this building as an employee. Maybe the last time ever. Who could say if he would make it back to Colorado again.

  Reese was manning the tourist information desk, standing tall with a bandage over his ear. He lifted a hand in a wave, and Ben crossed the room to greet him.

  “When can you take that thing off?” Ben said, nodding at the bandage.

  “Couple days. Glad you won’t be here to see my new mangled ear?”

  “From what I hear, you won’t be here much longer, either.”

  Reese nodded. “Dry Tortugas National Park. But I only found out this morning. How did you know?”

  “Word travels fast. It’s hard to keep secrets in Rocky Mountain.”

  Reese gave a pained smile, spreading his lips flat. “That’s the truth.”

  Ben knew how he felt. Everyone missed William, now that they’d had the chance to actual find his murderer and begin the process of grieving. Before, amid the chaos, grieving didn’t even seem like an option.

  “Anyway,” Ben said, “Congratulations on Dry Tortugas. Sounds like a great gig.”

  Reese nodded and stuck out a hand. “
It was good to know you, Harvey Bennett. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to get back to the park the other night when you… you know.”

  Ben reseated his uniform in his armpit and shook Reese’s hand. A good, solid grip. He wondered if, like Colorado, he might never see Reese again, either. “You were doing something a lot more important that night. It was good to know you too, Reese.”

  They lingered a moment longer, and then Reese pressed the button to open the back admin hallway door for him. Ben offered a little salute and then slipped into the hall. It felt so much smaller to him than it had before, like revisiting a place you’d only ever seen as a child.

  After a pause to catch his breath, he knocked on Taylor Snell’s door. A gruff voiced advised him to enter.

  When Ben opened the door, Taylor smiled at him and waved him toward one of the chairs opposite his desk. “Have a seat.”

  “No thank you, sir. I won’t be here long.”

  “I understand.” He then held out a hand, gesturing toward the uniform clutched in Ben’s arm. “I can take that for you.”

  Ben approached the desk and set the folded park uniform in front of him.

  “Yellowstone is getting a great volunteer returned to them,” Taylor said.

  “Thank you for saying that. But I also hear you had something to do with Reese’s new assignment.”

  “He’ll be on his way,” Taylor said, “once he’s done with his ear surgeries. It’s the least I can do for him for saving the life of my wife and son.” Taylor’s face changed as he winced. “I owe not just him, but also you a debt of gratitude, in more ways than one. I made a terrible mistake when I got mixed up with that Kathryn girl. I knew it was wrong, but I did it anyway.”

  Ben lifted his hands, palms up. He wondered how much Delilah Snell knew about the situation. If she would leave him or if she would take him back. But, he knew better than to ask. “That’s none of my business, really. We all make mistakes.”

  “So young and so wise,” Taylor said, with a sad smile. “I appreciate how far you’ve been willing to go to keep a lot of these details quiet. Looks like we’re going to be able to keep most of the names out of the papers. It’s better for the park service this way.”