One Hex of a Wedding

  I grounded myself firmly, anchoring myself in the earth mana that spiraled up to embrace me. A greenish glow emanated from the trees, from the bushes, from the grass beneath my feet. I reached out with my hand, lightly touching the edge of the light. It gently flickered at my fingers and I sucked it into my body, absorbing it like a sponge, letting it permeate my soul.

  The energy buoyed me up, blending with my own life force as the essence of crystal and rock, of stone and bone woven together to form a foundation from which I could work. This was the strength and core of the earth, of all that was tangible. Heady with the life-sustaining shimmer, I stepped onto the astral, content that my body was safe where I stood.

  Once again standing amidst the etheric fog, I took hold of the energy and began to create a shield that would strengthen and protect me. A thought occurred to me and I reached out to include Jimbo in the shelter of my charm. When I was satisfied that it would hold strong, I broke out of trance and glanced around me. My sight seemed to be heightened. I could see shapes in the darkness where before there had only been murky shadow. A titter of laughter startled me, but it was fleeting, like the chime of bells on the wind.

  Jimbo watched me closely as I climbed back on the bike. “You look different,” he said.

  “I know. I’ve done what I can to prevent Rusty from sensing our approach.”

  Jimbo grunted, but said nothing as we sped along the road leading to the campground. When we were near the bridge, he eased the bike off the road and killed the ignition.

  “How do we find them?” he asked.

  “If my intuition is right, they’ll be near the bridge,” I said. “We’d better go on foot from here. We don’t want the noise of the engine to warn him that we’re on his trail.”

  “Good thinking,” Jimbo said. “I know the basic layout of this campground, I come here to fish now and then. The campsites start on the other side of the bridge.”

  I glanced at my pendant. The garnet was shining just enough to tell me we were near. “Let’s get going.”

  As we hoofed it up the road, I thought about the last time Jimbo and I’d crept through the woods. He’d helped me rescue my son, and in doing so, we’d forged a bond. Now, once again, we were plowing through the darkness together, in pursuit of someone he loved.

  A roaring sound alerted me to the fact that we were near the water. Icicle Falls thundered into the lake, feeding several streams that filtered out from the icy flow. The bridge ran over the mouth of the largest fork. As we approached the covered overpass, my chest grew warmer. The garnet was gleaming.

  “We’re getting closer,” I whispered to Jimbo.

  He slowly stepped up on the bridge and then paused, motioning for me to join him. As I peered over the side, the starlight illuminated the foaming water below. On a spit next to the stream, I was able to make out the shape of a van. Rusty.

  “How did he get down there?” I said in a low voice.

  Jimbo leaned down and cupped his hand around my ear. “Ten to one he’s been staying out here. I bet he scoped out all the access roads and fire roads in the campground. We don’t have time to go hunting for the trail, though, and I’ve never taken a vehicle down to a spit like that. I usually just wade over from one of the official campsites or climb down the side of the ravine.”

  “Do you think he knows we’re here?”

  Jimbo watched him for a moment. “No, I think the roar of the falls covered up the sound of the bike.”

  I bit my lip. Jimbo was right. The thunder of the falls and gurgling currents of the lake and streams would easily swallow up any noise from the bike. The real trick lay in getting down the hill unnoticed.

  “Well, we don’t have much of a choice,” I said after a moment. As much as I didn’t want to think about it, we were going to have to go over the edge and hope we didn’t trip or lose our footing. “We have to go down that ravine.”

  Jimbo gave me a short nod, then began searching along the rim of the road on the other side of the bridge. I moved back away from the bridge and flipped open my cell phone. After three rings, Deacon picked up.

  “We found them. We’re out at Icicle Lake Falls campground. Rusty’s got his van down by the stream that flows under the covered bridge. Get out here, and bring an ambulance just in case.”

  “Don’t do anything—wait for us to get there,” Deacon said. But he knew we were already committed because before he hung up, he added, “Emerald, if you insist on going after them, don’t let Jimbo kill the guy. And be careful.”

  I flipped my phone shut and jogged over to Jimbo’s side. “Police are on the way, but it’s going to take them a little while to get out here.”

  He pointed out a slope that dipped over the bank and I peeked over the side. If we were going to make it down the hill in one piece, this would be our safest bet. From what I could tell, the gradient was at its easiest decline here—at least we’d have a chance. My stomach lurched at the thought, but I knew that this was our only option.

  Jimbo slowly stepped over the lip, motioning for me to swing in behind him. Trusting on faith, I followed. Slowly we worked our way down, moving sideways to prevent vertigo, bracing each step as we leaned in toward the side of the hill. Thick stands of huckleberry and fern covered the grade, and I prayed that we wouldn’t run into any stinging nettle or I’d be out of commission and on my way to the hospital.

  Jimbo stopped abruptly, holding up his hand. I waited as he tested his footing in several directions. After a moment, he made up his mind and we shifted to the right about two yards and continued our descent.

  By now, my calves were screaming from the tension that ricocheted through my body. I shifted, trying to ease the muscles, but must have set my foot down wrong because the rocky incline on which I stood started to slide. Managing to keep from shouting, I flailed, teetering as my balance suddenly took exit, stage left. Jimbo caught me just before I went rolling down the hill.

  “Sorry . . . sorry.” I tried to keep my voice low.

  “Jeezus, be careful, woman. You okay?”

  “Yeah, I just lost my balance.”

  “Fine. Now put a lid on it. We’re almost to the bottom.”

  A few more yards and we were peering out onto a gentle rocky slope leading down to the edge of the stream. We were within running distance of the van, and now we could see that the man standing beside it was staring at the stream as if he were lost in thought.

  A sudden movement broke my concentration. Some little animal raced out of the bushes and across my Keds, but it was enough to startle me and my carefully woven shield crumbled, leaving me open and clear. Rusty whirled around and I could hear his laughter echoing through the campground.

  That was all it took. Jimbo broke into a dead run, straight for Rusty, who hesitated for a fraction of a second, then took off the other way. I could feel Rusty’s confusion. He hadn’t been prepared for our appearance.

  I scrambled up and skidded my way down the last of the slope, racing over to the van, where I yanked open the back door. The interior light went on, flooding the area and blinding me. I blinked. There, bound and gagged on the floor, lay Murray.

  I fumbled in my fanny pack and pulled out my switchblade, slicing through the ropes that bound her. “Murray! Murray? Can you hear me?”

  I tried to pull her into a sitting position but it was obvious that she’d been drugged. Making sure she was lying on her side so that she didn’t choke, I jumped back out of the van and looked around for Jimbo and Rusty. They were a few yards away, near the water, in a fight to the death.

  Light on his feet, Rusty danced around Jimbo, managing to knock him to the ground. Standing over the biker’s body, knife in hand, Rusty raised the blade. Jimbo tried to scramble up, but I could see he wasn’t going to make it in time. If I didn’t do something now, Jimbo was toast.

  I raced toward them, closing the distance with only a few steps. Focused on Jimbo, Rusty didn’t notice me until I was right behind him and then it was too late
. I lunged, throwing my weight against him. Rusty shouted as we tipped forward with me clinging to his back.

  Jimbo rolled out of the way and came up in a crouch. Rusty still had hold of his knife as we hit the dirt and I let out a loud “oomph” and pushed myself into a sitting position, straddling Rusty’s butt. He tried to twist around but Jimbo stomped on his wrist with one booted heel and Rusty screamed and let go of the knife. The blade thudded to the ground.

  “Get out of the way, O’Brien. He’s mine,” Jimbo said, his voice a thunder of threat and fury.

  “Jimbo, listen—you can’t kill him. They’ll put you in jail. We have him down. You can’t plead self-defense if he’s already down!”

  “Not if you don’t say . . .” Jimbo stopped, looked first at me and then at Rusty, and slowly shook his head. “Never mind what I was gonna ask you to do.” His voice broke, and I knew exactly what he wanted to do, because I wasn’t far from the thought myself. Luckily, I had more self-control than the biker.

  “Go see to Murray. I can keep this guy down,” I said. Jimbo headed toward the van and I leaned hard on Rusty’s back. “You owe me one,” I told him. “You owe me your life and you’d better remember it.”

  Even as I spoke, Rusty reared back. I grabbed a fistful of his hair and shoved his face into the dirt as hard as I could. “Down, boy.”

  “Bitch!” He struggled, trying to twist away.

  “Shuddup!” I pushed a little harder on the back of his head and he stopped his struggling and lay silent. Just then, the high-pitched whine of sirens sounded from above, and flashing lights flickered at the top of the bridge. Jimbo shouted, waving his arms, and a spotlight glared down, illuminating the campsite. Deacon was there.

  THE EMT CREW loaded Murray onto a stretcher as they discussed the best way to get her out. “She’s in no immediate danger,” Larry Davidson said. Joe and Larry seldom had the same shifts, but I knew who he was. “But going up that ravine is going to be rough. On the other hand, it will take a good hour to get an ambulance here via the access road.”

  “How’s Murray doing?” I asked.

  “She’s stable, her vital signs are all good. She’s been drugged, but there’s no sign of an overdose. We’re monitoring her. I think we’ll take her up the hill, though. I don’t want to wait.”

  “What do you think he gave her?”

  “We found a bottle in the back of the van—GHB.” Larry glanced over at Rusty, who was being loaded onto a stretcher as well. “He had to get it from the streets, because it isn’t legal for him to have otherwise.”

  “What’s GHB?” I asked, fearing the worst.

  “Gamma hydroxybutyrate. Used as a date-rape drug, for one thing. He gave her quite a jolt from what we can tell. The dose was high enough to knock any fight out of her. Easy enough to get from any dealer.”

  Oh God. I looked at Murray’s limp figure on the stretcher. She was awake, but barely. I wondered how he’d gotten the drug into her. “Will she be okay? Was she . . . did he . . . never mind,” I finally said. It was up to Murray to tell me whatever she needed to tell me, whenever she was ready.

  Larry scowled. “She should be okay, no thanks to that scumball.”

  “What about him?” I nodded in Rusty’s direction.

  “Shattered wrist, twisted ankle. He’ll live.” Will shot a look over at Jimbo, who was with the paramedics who were assessing how to get Murray up the hill. “I know your buddy wanted to hurt him. You did a good thing, even though it doesn’t seem like it.”

  He had me there. As for me, I took no pleasure in sparing Rusty’s life. While not a violent person by nature, when my loved ones were threatened, I turned into Mama Bear. Big, mean, nasty Mama Bear.

  I dusted off my jeans and wandered over to the edge of the stream flowing out from the lake. Under the starlight the water glistened, and I knelt down by the edge, wiggling my fingers in the bubbling froth that flowed over the river rocks that were as big as my head. Icy cold, the water was born high in the mountains from the glaciers that cloaked Mount Baker. In daylight, it would be milky gray, thick with minerals.

  The mountains and forests here were wild—as pristine as any forest could be in this day of logging and deforestation. The land was old and carried with it memories from the past, the footfalls of prospectors and miners, the soft whisper as tribal members passed through, the echo of explorers new to the untouched wilderness. And before that walked legends that came from out of the very earth herself.

  This was no place for men like Rusty. They were anathema to the soil, tainting everything they touched. I glanced up at the stars and breathed a silent wish that the world could be a safer place for everyone I loved.

  THE CLIMB UP was easier than the struggle down the mountain. Deacon helped me, even managing to steer me away from a thicket of stinging nettle. I almost lost my balance again, but Deacon caught me and I finished the climb with no further problems.

  At the top of the hill, I turned to him. “Deacon, how do you think he drugged Murray? From the scene at the Catlan place, she sure didn’t go along willingly.”

  He stared at me, his long lashes fluttering over his dark chocolate eyes. “I found a gun under the driver’s seat of the van probably, the one he shot Joe with. You and Jimbo were very lucky he didn’t have it with him when you snuck up on him. Probably didn’t have a clue you were there, or he would have shot you dead. I know his type.”

  Leaning against the side of the patrol car, he added, “My guess is that he was waiting for her. He snuck up on her before she could get her gun out, forced her to take the pills at gunpoint, then just waited until they hit. The effects are pretty quick, and it looks like he gave her quite a hefty dose. I’ll bet she was unconscious within ten to fifteen minutes, if not sooner. They’ll have to monitor her at the hospital overnight. GHB can be a dangerous drug and the side effects aren’t pretty.”

  It made sense, and yet imagining the scene set my stomach churning. Murray, held at gunpoint, forced to drug herself into the hands of a predator. I shivered. “Make sure they throw the book at him, Deacon. I’d rather see them shovel dirt over him . . . but please, at least make sure he’s put away for good.”

  Deacon sighed. “We’ll do our best, Emerald. Trust me, the boys on the force will call in every favor we have to convince the judge that this nutcase needs to be tossed into a deep hole, without a ladder.”

  Jimbo wanted to go in the ambulance with Murray, and I told him go ahead. I called AAA and asked them to come pick up the bike and haul it to my house, and then climbed in Deacon’s patrol car. Rusty was already on his way to the hospital under armed guard.

  “I’ll drop you off at home. You can file a report tomorrow,” Deacon said.

  “Thanks. I’m exhausted.” I leaned my head against the back of the seat and took one last look at the bridge, knowing it would be a long time before we came back out to Icicle Lake Falls.

  Seventeen

  TWO DAYS LATER, I woke to sunshine and a sense of excitement. It was the summer solstice. My wedding day. I sat up, grinning at Samantha, who had sprawled out on Joe’s side of the bed, taking advantage of his absence. While I didn’t pay much attention to old wives’ tales, I had made him sleep at Murray’s house. I didn’t want him seeing me in my dress until we were walking up the garden path to the altar. Samantha stretched and blinked.

  “Do you think Harlow’s managed to pull it all together?” I asked the purring cat, rubbing her belly. Harl had jumped in, making me promise to let her take care of the finishing details. For the first time in days I felt like we might actually make it through the ceremony.

  I rolled out of bed and looked out the window.

  The morning light was peeking over the skyline, and all signs pointed toward a brilliant day. I pushed open the window and let the fresh air stream in, filling the room with the promise of new beginnings. Joyful in every sense of the word, I danced around the room until a knock on the door startled me. Kip and Miranda usually weren’t up so earl
y.

  I quickly slipped into my satin robe and called out, “Come in.”

  Murray peered around the corner. “So, is there a bride in the house?” She ducked into the room.

  “Murray!” I skipped over to give her a long hug. “Lordy, I thought this day would never get here. Look! Maeve dropped off my dress last night.” I pulled her over to the closet, flinging open the door, but something in her eyes stopped me cold. “Mur? You okay?”

  She shrugged, then forced a smile. “Yeah, I’m okay. It’s just going to take a while before everything seems normal again. I think I’m fine and then . . . I just flash back.”

  I sat down on the bed and yanked at her hand until she joined me. “Mur, is there anything you didn’t tell us? Did Rusty . . . did he . . .”

  Murray was good at reading between the lines. She shook her head. “I don’t know, Em. After I took those pills, the world could have ended and I’d have been oblivious. The doctor said she doesn’t think so—my exam showed no evidence that I’d been raped but there are ways . . . He wanted to, though. And he said . . . the things he said while waiting for the drug to take effect. I can’t get them out of my head.”

  I knew that it would take months for her to cope with the aftermath of the abduction. Feeling subdued, I hung my head. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry that this all happened. I wish we could have found him earlier.”

  “If wishes were pennies, we’d all be rich. No, Em.” She laid a soft hand on my own. “You and Jimmy saved my life. I’ll never forget that. Don’t you let me spoil today. I’m fine, it’s just going to take some time to process all of this. White Deer will help me, and I have you and Harlow and Jimmy.”

  “What’s going to happen to Rusty?” The thought of him roaming the streets gave me the creeps.

  “Stalking and kidnapping a police officer isn’t exactly the smartest thing to do. He’ll get sent away for a long, long time. Deacon was right, by the way. I pulled into the old Catlan place, but there didn’t seem to be a soul around. I got out of the car, gun drawn for trouble, but nada—as with the other calls. So, I slid my weapon back into the holster and was heading back to my car when Rusty sprang out from behind a thicket of Scotch broom with his gun. I couldn’t do anything except follow orders. If I’d resisted, he would have killed me right there.”