Fugitive (A Rocky Mountain Thriller Book 2) by Ann Voss Peterson

Author:Ann Voss Peterson [Peterson, Ann Voss]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: AVP
Published: 2017-06-13T23:00:00+00:00

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Sarah couldn’t remember ever being so cold.

They followed the river until it flanked the highway. Most of the way, they were able to stay on the shore. But in some spots, the bank rose almost vertically from the water. Then, they had to plunge into the frigid water. Deeper than the stream that crossed through her ranch, the Shoshone’s current tumbled and swirled around them, fast and relentless. And even though she was soaked and scared and drained of any energy she had left, she was grateful to make it to the highway alive and not in the custody of police.

They followed West Yellowstone Avenue and turned toward downtown. They needed to find a car or a place to hide, and the other direction only promised the reservoir and a desolate highway that led to the gates of Yellowstone, almost an hour’s drive away. But still, walking into civilization made Sarah nervous.

She tried not to look behind her. Tried not to focus on the red and blue lights pulsing from the rodeo grounds. There wasn’t a lot of foot traffic in this stretch of Cody, making it hard to blend in. So they stayed off the highway, moving through ditches and along parking lots.

Eric reached out a hand to help her up a steep ditch and to a more level cluster of driveways leading to restaurants and motels, busy on a Saturday night. “Cold?”

She nodded. But that wasn’t the half of it. The cold, the fear, the ebbing adrenaline…her list went on. But try as she might, she couldn’t stop shaking. It wasn’t within her grasp. Not any longer. The best she could do was stumble forward and hope Eric was in better shape.

He rubbed a hand over her back as they walked. “So if you were a tourist, where would you want to stay?”

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.

“Come on. Price is no object.” He gave her a smile that seemed a little tired and forced, but she had to admit it was better than she could have done.

She could at least put in what effort she could muster. “The Irma,” she said, suggesting the famous hotel Buffalo Bill Cody named for his daughter.

“A sucker for history, eh?”

“You bet.”

A police car sped past, lights flashing red and blue.

Sarah sucked in a breath and tried her best to keep focused straight ahead, to look like she didn’t have a care in the world, not that she remembered what that felt like anymore.

“What would you have for dinner?”

She forced her mind back to Eric’s game. “A steak, of course. Baked potato with sour cream. A salad, ranch dressing.”

Her stomach growled, right on cue.

“Steak, huh? I suppose a beef rancher is required to say that.”

“Hey, it’s real food, that’s what Layton always likes to say. How about you? You’re not going to choose seafood or quiche or something, are you?”

He didn’t answer. His steps slowed.

“What is it?”

“Not sure.”

They cleared the strip mall and walked to the next drive.

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