The Captain's Mission. Debby Giusti

him in the bleachers today at the live-fire demonstration, sitting next to a teenage girl, so she had known he was in the area. The kid could be trouble, and Kelly had made sure on his previous two visits that he toed a straight line while he was on post. Not that Kyle had appreciated her intervention.

      What she hadn’t expected tonight were the cuts that slashed through the underside of his forearms and the blood that had spattered his shirt. How had he been injured, and why had he run into the underbrush?

      Reaching under her seat, Kelly grabbed her Maglite and stepped onto the pavement. The temperature had dropped, and she pulled her navy-blue windbreaker closed and shined the light over the roadway, picking out the droplets of blood that had splattered across the asphalt. The kid should be at the emergency room getting medical treatment instead of running through the woods.

      “Kyle?” She shined the light into the woods. An eerie sense of foreboding tingled along her spine. “I want to help you, Kyle.”

      Hearing no response, she followed the trail of blood. The smell of Georgia clay and rotting leaves rose from the dew-dampened earth. She pushed into the dense forest where prickly thorns scraped against her hand as she shoved her way deeper into the darkness.

      “Kyle?”

      Even the cicadas and tree frogs were silent tonight.

      She aimed the Maglite into the underbrush. The beam flickered. Giving the flashlight a firm shake, she was rewarded with the return of a powerful beam that eventually revealed a dirt path and a clearing beyond.

      Kelly headed for the open space. Her foot stepped onto a bed of fallen leaves. Something wrapped around her ankle. Her heart pounded an instant warning.

      Before she could glance down, a whoosh of air and a powerful jerk knocked the flashlight from her hand and propelled her airborne in a topsy-turvy swirl of motion.

      A gasp escaped her lips, and her stomach roiled in protest. The forest twirled around her. Heart pounding in her throat, she saw the earth below and realized she was dangling upside down. Her leg burned with pain from the jolt and the rope that tightened around her ankle. What had she gotten tangled up in? Some type of animal trap?

      Blood rushed to her head. She tried to reach up and grab the thick hemp that held her bound. When that failed, she grasped her holster and unsheathed her weapon. Her fingers latched onto the cold steel. The only way to get down was to shoot the rope in two.

      The sound of twigs breaking and the crackle of leaves came from the dense underbrush. A small animal was skittering for shelter or—?

      Footsteps.

      Her already erratic heartbeat cranked up a notch.

      Friend or foe?

      On the ground far below where she had dropped it, the flashlight dimmed and the beam faded into darkness. Her pulse hammered in her ears.

      She gripped the gun, her finger firm against the trigger. Was Kyle coming back for her or was someone else roaming through the forest? And if so, why?

      Surely Phil would still be talking to the two Mrs. Taylors. Hopefully, he’d see her car when he left the farmhouse and headed back to town, but no telling how soon that would be.

      She listened for the sound of a car engine, hearing nothing except the silent forest that seemed to close in around her. The stillness was more frightening than the rustling had been moments earlier. Where was he … or it?

      Something slithered through the dried leaves. Her gut tightened with revulsion. She hated snakes.

      Another twig snapped. Something larger than a snake was headed her way.

      She shivered as a cold chill wrapped her in fear thick enough to taste. Holding the gun, she tried to steady her aim.

      Branches parted. In the darkness, she couldn’t identify much more than a huge bulk that stepped toward the clearing.

      Never let them know you’re afraid. The thought rattled through her mind. She mustered her courage, raised her gun and took aim.

      THREE

      “What are you doing in that tree, Kelly?”

      “Phil?”

      His eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and even from this distance, he could make out her slender body as well as the barrel of the Sig Sauer aimed directly at him.

      “Don’t just stand there. Get me down.” She sounded piqued.

      “No, ma’am. Not until you holster your weapon.”

      “What?”

      “The gun, Kelly. I don’t trust anyone who’s pointing a nine-millimeter at my midsection.”

      She harrumphed. “I wasn’t planning to shoot you. I heard a noise and thought—”

      The words stuck in her throat, but she complied with his request and returned the weapon to her hip holster.

      Phil reached for her just as he had wanted to do the moment he had stepped into the clearing and had seen she was in trouble. “Wrap your arms around my neck.”

      She complied without an outburst, for which he was grateful. Her leg had to hurt, and her skin felt cold and clammy. He wouldn’t mention shock, but that was a concern. The dropping temperature and her lightweight jacket didn’t help.

      Pulling a knife from his pocket, he sawed through the rope and gently lowered her feet to the ground while his arms remained clasped around her waist. She felt soft and fragile and … well, like a woman.

      His own pulse raced as he held her tight against his chest, trying to transmit the heat from his body back into hers. She closed her eyes, and a thread of worry coursed along his spine. “Kelly?”

      Her breath fanned his flesh and wreaked havoc with his nerve endings. “Kelly? Answer me.”

      Thankfully, her eyes blinked open, but she appeared dazed. Then, before he could say anything to reassure her, she pushed her hands against his chest with such force that he took a step back to balance the shift in weight.

      Her erratic behavior sent up a warning flag. “You blacked out.”

      She put her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes. “You saw me hanging upside down, Phil. Did I look unconscious?”

      Relieved by her outburst, he almost laughed. “Next time remind me to leave you in the tree.”

      “Right.”

      Hearing a hint of levity mixed with her frustration, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and hit speed dial. “Chaplain Sanchez, this is Captain Thibodeaux. I found Agent McQueen. We’ll meet you back at her car.”

      Phil flipped his cell closed and stared down at Kelly. Her blond hair was disheveled, but she was trying to maintain some semblance of composure.

      “The chaplain checked the other side of the roadway while I headed this direction,” Phil said. “Now tell me what you were doing out here.”

      She quickly explained about almost running into the teenager. “He was sitting in the bleachers with a teenage girl at the live-fire exercise today and looked like he might have cleaned up his image a bit. But tonight there was blood on his shirt, and the inside of his arms appeared to have been cut.”

      Phil’s eyes searched the darkness in case the injured teen was still around. “Did he recognize you?”

      “Probably not with the glare of the headlights. After the near miss, he had to be as shook up as I was.” She glanced down at her Maglite. “If you’ve got a flashlight or extra batteries for mine, we can search the area.”

      She took a step to retrieve the light and almost fell.

      He grabbed her elbow to steady her. “Hold up a minute.”

      Kelly pulled her arm out of his grasp. “I’m fine, Phil.”