Page 13 of Fatal Mistake
“Honestly?”
He nodded.
“You’ve been so frustrated with all the dead ends that I didn’t want to get your hopes up if this didn’t pan out.”
“Well, it did, and I owe you big-time,” he said sincerely.
“And you know I’ll collect, right?”
He nodded, but his mind had already transitioned to his next move. Since he had no way of knowing if Tara still resided in Oregon, he’d go alone and leave the team in Dallas to work the scene. If he did locate her, he’d call in the Knights to assist in her transport back to D.C.
He checked his watch. Nearly two o’clock. It would take an hour or so for their pilot to be ready for takeoff, and then a four-hour flight to Portland, giving him plenty of time to get his emotions in check so when he came face-to-face with Tara again, he didn’t let the frustrations over her taking off on him interfere in his hunt for Keeler.
“Okay.” He clapped his hands. “Since Max is in town, he can take charge here, and I’ll leave for Portland right away.”
“One thing, though,” Kaci added, this time frowning. “We both know from tracking Keeler that he has strong tech skills. So you also have to know if I located Tara, Keeler can find her, too.”
* * *
Mount Hood National Forest, Oregon
8:05 p.m.
The oppressive, sultry night settled over the Mount Hood National Forest. Tara raised her binoculars and ran them over the trees. She was on alert 24/7. She had to be. Not only as her new job as a forest fire lookout, but also in search for Oren before he made good on his warning to kill her.
She rested her elbows on the rough deck railing surrounding her thirty-foot-tall tower and scanned the horizon still warm with the sun’s sinking rays. Finding the area free from smoke, she dropped her focus to the ground and ran the binoculars along the edge of the clearing below.
Sudden movement in the brush sent a jolt of fear racing through her body. She zoomed in and found a deer, a smaller five-point buck edging through the trees. Fitting for the Fivemile Butte Lookout Tower, she supposed.
She blew out a breath and leaned over the railing to complete her search on the south side of the platform. The long scar on her stomach pulled tight, drawing her thoughts to Agent Cal Riggins’s rescue as happened every time the now-familiar ache ran through her abdomen. If he hadn’t shown up moments after Oren had shot her, she would’ve bled out.
As a former SEAL, Agent Riggins possessed extensive first aid skills. At least he’d told her he’d been a SEAL. He certainly had the body and intensity that she associated with a SEAL, and with the exceptional team he belonged to, she supposed.
She owed her life to him gallantly sweeping in on a chopper. He’d only wanted her help in return. Easy, right? Wrong. She’d planned to help him, but then Oren had shown up at the hospital, and she couldn’t stay even if she hadn’t sufficiently recovered and getting around was painful.
She still wanted to help, though. She would do anything to assist in finding Oren, but no matter how hard she tried, the night at the pump house remained fuzzy. Who knew, maybe the terror from Oren’s threat kept her mind locked down. She couldn’t come up with details needed to help find him, but his visit? That she remembered. Clearly. His eyes, the hatred, the vengeance, all sent a shudder raking over her body.
She slipped her finger under a thick red rubber band circling her wrist, snapped it, and let the resounding sting take her attention and stave off her fear. She’d discovered this pattern breaker on the Internet and used it to help let go of her anxiety and choose a new behavior. She pulled again.
Snap. The pain sizzled up her arm, but the anxiety sat on her shoulders like the weight of Mount Hood in the distance.
She should have known one snap wouldn’t work today—the first of the month, Oren’s scheduled day to detonate a bomb. After moving to Dallas to make it harder for Oren to find her, she’d discovered he’d killed a coworker in Atlanta, likely because he couldn’t get to her, and she didn’t want the same thing to happen in Dallas. So she’d warned her coworkers at Pecos Palace and moved to Oregon. But she kept fearing for their lives, so yesterday she’d risked the FBI finding her and made a computer call to their hotline, begging them to protect her friends in Dallas.
If only she’d caught on to Oren’s plan sooner.
Snap.
He would likely detonate a bomb today. Who would he kill?
Snap. Snap.
Hopefully Agent Riggins and his team were in Dallas with her friends.
Snap. Snap. Snap.
The rubber band failed to calm her for the first time ever. Maybe finishing her search would help. She moved to the other side of the tower. Perched on a hill that fell off into a rocky cliff, the tower couldn’t be approached from the west side. Still, she lifted the binoculars to sweep the area, looking for any hint of smoke. Black meant structures or vehicles were burning. Sometimes pines thick with resin would first burn dark. White smoke signaled lighter fuels like grass, twigs, and pine needles.
No fires in sight, but she wouldn’t end her sweep until she made certain Oren wasn’t lurking nearby. She left nothing to chance anymore. She trusted no one and questioned everything. Even FBI agents. They disappeared when needed. She now planned each move. Calculated each step. No more mistakes. Finding the bombs and running had almost been fatal. Another mistake could cost her life.
