One Last Step by Sarah Sutton (free e books to read TXT) 📗

set up their tent in the clearing they now sat in. She nudged Phil again.

“Phil, get up!” she whispered loudly.

This time, he opened his eyes and after the haze of sleep cleared in his mind, he sat up, for he heard it too.

“What time is it?” he asked.

“It’s two AM,” Maya whispered, and she watched as Phil’s face morphed into concern.

He moved closer to her, trying to peer out of the tent as well.

They sat in silence, listening, until the four-wheeler shuddered to a halt on the trail, followed by the sound of crushing leaves under footsteps. They could barely see in the darkness, but Maya could just make out a dark shadowed figure, moving amongst the trees—toward them.

Phil could sense Maya’s panic.

“It’s all right,” he said as he slid out of his sleeping bag and reached for his shoes and a flashlight. “I’ll go check it out.”

He reached for the entrance flap and began to unzip it but Maya grabbed his arm.

“It’s fine. I’ll be right back,” he said. He leaned over and kissed her, stepped out of the tent, and zipped it up behind him.

Maya listened intently, staring out the window of the tent. The light of Phil’s flashlight bounced in front of him with each movement as he inched closer to the figure. But, as the light shined upon the figure, the movement stopped, and Tara could just make out the shape of a man. He just stood there a moment and Phil suddenly stopped as well out of caution.

“Can I help you?” Phil’s voice echoed off the trees, but his words were met with no reply.

The man just stood there, silent, until he reached for something on his back.

“Sir, can I help you?” Phil repeated again. “You scared the shit out of us. Why are you out here so late?”

Maya heard the panic in Phil’s voice and terror flooded her body. Again, there was no answer, and Phil repeated the question, this time even louder.

But the man only continued fidgeting with a bag that he had taken off his back. Phil shined the flashlight directly on him, trying to see what he was doing, but the light suddenly caused the man to stand upright.

Phil instinctively took a step back, and Maya began to unzip the tent. She was about to step out, to run to Phil, to do something, but just as she unzipped it, Phil’s head turned sharply toward her.

She could hear the beginnings of her name form from his lips, but then something whizzed through the air, and Phil suddenly fell to the ground.

“Maya, run!” he screamed.

Maya’s mind swirled into a haze. She looked toward the man and she could now clearly see what he held in his hands as he moved toward her—a crossbow.

Maya darted from the tent, weaving in and out of the trees as fast as she could. She had no clue what she was running toward, if it was more forest or a town, and her mind swirled with panic.

But suddenly, something pierced her leg and an excruciating pain spread through her body like a disease. She fell to her knees and tried to crawl, propelling her body forward. But then a fist met her skull, plummeting her vision into blackness.

Chapter Twelve

Tara opened her eyes as she heard a knock on the door of her hotel room, and she squinted as the early morning light shined through the thin curtains. She heard the knock again and she quickly sat up, before scrambling to throw something on.

Once she opened the door, she was surprised to see Warren standing there, ready and dressed for the day. He looked her up and down, clearly aware that she had just woken up—her hair probably pointing every which way. Had she overslept? Tara wondered, as a sudden heat rose to her face and she felt an urge to check the time.

But Warren didn’t draw attention to it, and instead spoke only of why he was there.

“The sheriff called,” he said. “Greg Davis’s story checks out.”

She knew he was referring to the convenience store Greg Davis mentioned—where he said he told the victim to go.

“She was seen on the surveillance camera. She just went in, purchased the water jug, and left.”

“You think we should interview the person who rung her up?” Tara asked.

Warren shook his head. “The local cops already did. I don’t think it’s worth interviewing him again.”

But Tara could tell that was not all he came to tell her. His body was tense with urgency.

“The sheriff called to tell me something else too,” he said. “They found a campground where they have a record of the same victim checking in. It’s located between Hanover and where the body was found.”

At the mention of it, Tara knew it was exactly where they could find answers to why her body was found where it was—an area of the trail she already walked through the days prior.

“Why don’t you meet me downstairs in five and we’ll head over,” Warren said.

Tara nodded and agreed. Fueled with adrenaline from the new lead, she began to close the door. But suddenly, Warren’s hand grabbed hold of it. She had almost forgotten that her job was still on the line.

“Oh, and Mills,” Warren said as Tara faced him once again.

She knew right away what he was about to address; she could sense it, as her heart fluttered against her chest.

“You know, I thought long and hard last night about the situation you had yesterday,” he said.

Tara nodded and he continued.

“I honestly considered calling Reinhardt and asking him for a different partner.” He paused. “Frankly, maybe I should’ve.” He rolled his eyes at his words. “But I didn’t.”

Tara felt a wave of relief wash over her. She was about to thank him, but he spoke first. “You understand what’s at risk when you freeze like that, right?”

She nodded. She knew very well what was at stake and she knew she was lucky too, for the situation could’ve ended much differently.

“I’m