Buried Mountain Secrets. Terri Reed

shot through Alex and he realized how much he had been hoping to discover Maya and her brother had already descended the trail. “Did the hikers see the Gallos?”

      Chase shook his head. “Claimed not to. I took their contact info.”

      “All right, listen up, everyone.” Alex explained the situation to the others. “Okay, there are two main paths to take from here. Riley and Trevor—” he gestured to the Howards “—take the Pine Ridge Trail. Miss Quinn and I will take Aspen Creek Trail.”

      Alex mounted Truman, a chestnut-colored sixteen-hand Tennessee walking horse, and headed the horse toward the trailhead, where the father and son pair peeled away while Alex and Leslie took the main trail. A half hour later, Alex held up his hand in a fist, signaling for Leslie to stop. Alex slid off Truman to inspect several broken branches on the right side of the trail. It looked as if somebody had gone crashing through the underbrush.

      Before he could move farther into the forest, his radio crackled on his shoulder.

      “Alex, you better get over here,” Riley’s voice came through the line.

      Thumbing the mic attached to his radio, Alex asked, “What did you find?”

      “A dead body.”

       TWO

      Alex drew Truman to a halt alongside Riley’s and Trevor’s horses on the Pine Ridge Trail. Both men stood off the path, staring at something on the ground with grim expressions. In the waning light, Alex could make out the prone figure nestled among the underbrush at the base of the steep rise.

      A steel band wrapped around his chest.

       Please, Lord, don’t let it be one of the Gallo siblings.

      Taking a deep breath, he moved closer and slowly pushed back the branches.

      Short hair matted with blood, a navy jacket, jeans and hiking boots. Definitely male.

      Not Maya Gallo. Relief washed through him.

      After confirming Riley had taken preliminary photos of the scene with his phone, Alex braced himself and slowly rolled the body over.

      Definitely not Brady Gallo, either.

      Alex blew out another relieved breath. He was pretty sure he knew everyone in Bristle Township and County, at least well enough for a chin nod, and this man was a stranger. He first checked for a pulse to confirm the man was indeed deceased, and then searched the man’s clothing for identification. There was none.

      Alex stood and stared upward at the side of the mountain. Had the man been climbing and fell or had someone bashed him over the head and stashed his body behind the bushes? Was there a killer loose in the forest?

      Would Alex find one of the Gallos dead?

      Dread clamped a hand around his heart. He hated to contemplate the thought.

      He radioed in to let the sheriff know they needed the medical examiner, and then, turning to Trevor and Riley, he said, “Wait here for the sheriff and the ME. I’m going back to the other trail.” He was sure someone had gone through the forest. Maybe Brady or Maya. He had to be thorough in his search.

      From her perch on the back of her paint, Leslie took one look at the dead body and gagged. Looking away, she said, “I’ll never get used to that.”

      “I’d be worried if you did,” Alex told her. She was an accomplished horsewoman and a hard worker when on patrol but still a civilian. “You go back to the trailhead. I’m returning to the Aspen Creek Trail.”

      “You’ll never make the summit before dark,” Leslie told him with worry in her voice.

      “I have to check something,” he said. “Let the sheriff know.”

      Though concern showed on her face, she nodded. “Be careful.” She turned her horse and moved back down the trail.

      Alex urged Truman, as quickly as he dared in the waning light, back to the place where he’d seen evidence that someone had gone off the trail. He dismounted and dropped the reins, letting them hit the ground, a signal for Truman to stay put while Alex made his way through the bushes, following the broken branches and the faint outline of two sets of booted feet.

      The dimming daylight plus the canopy of branches overhead made tracking the footsteps difficult, but he didn’t want to break out his flashlight just yet and risk revealing his presence to whoever might be nearby.

      A rustling in the bushes a few feet to his left sent his senses on high alert. His heart hammered in his chest. His hand went to his holstered gun. With caution and stealth, he moved slowly forward.

      * * *

      Fear that her attacker had returned stole Maya’s breath. Praying the bright blue backpack now on her back wouldn’t be a beacon to her location, she hunkered down in the bushes and tightened her fingers around the tree branch gripped between her hands. She kept her head low and prayed for protection.

      After she’d hidden behind the tree trunk, she’d heard the assailant crashing about the woods, mumbling and cursing to himself. Then he moved south, back toward the trailhead, no doubt thinking she’d headed in that direction.

      She’d started to make her way back to the path when she had heard heavy footsteps coming her way. She’d taken cover here in these bramble bushes.

      The woods had gone silent.

      Daring to peek out from behind the bushes, her gaze landed first on a pair of dark boots standing on the other side of the shrub she’d hidden behind.

      “Come out with your hands up,” a deep, familiar voice commanded.

      Deputy Alex Trevino.

      This wasn’t her attacker. This was her rescuer. God had answered her prayers. Though why he’d send Alex, of all people, she couldn’t fathom. Wasn’t Kaitlyn available?

      Shaking her head at her own idiotic thoughts—who was she to complain about how God answered her prayer—she slowly rose and stepped out from behind the bushes. “Alex.”

      He quickly holstered his drawn weapon, for which she was thankful.

      He hurried to her side. “Maya? Are you okay?” He gripped her shoulders, visually searching her, his gaze warm and concerned.

      She let go of the stick she’d expected to use as a weapon and hugged her arms around her middle as a measure of relief ebbed through her veins. She could only imagine how frightful she must look considering her trek through the woods. And why that should even matter she didn’t know. The only thing that mattered was her brother. “I’m fine. But Brady...” She swallowed back the bile of fear burning her throat.

      “What happened to your brother?”

      “I don’t know. He didn’t return when he was supposed to this afternoon. I got worried so I came out here. I found his backpack.” She hitched the straps higher on her shoulders. “Someone attacked me from behind, but I escaped and whoever it was chased me into the woods.” She shuddered as the memory flooded her mind.

      Alex cupped her elbow and started her walking back toward the trail. A sense of safety and well-being blanketed her, allowing the constriction in her chest to ease a bit.

      “Did you get a look at your attacker’s face?”

      She shook her head with regret. “No. I think it was a man.” She shrugged. “He had on a hoodie and a weird mask. But he had cold dark eyes.” A shiver slid over her skin. “I’m pretty sure he went south so I waited until I thought the coast was clear. I was working my way back to the trail when I heard you.” She grasped his arm. “We have to find Brady.”

      “We will,” he assured her in a voice full of confidence.

      She