Targeted For Murder

TWO

He rushed forward while absorbing the scene before him, assessing and strategizing at the same time.

He had to get there before it was too late, even as he fought against the all-too familiar memories that threatened to shut him down.

Cooper focused on this one moment. This one life he could save.

The woman was young—late twenties, maybe—and had skills that had kept her alive this long. Maybe she’d even managed to disarm the man, since his weapon was no longer in sight.

Krav Maga.

He recognized the moves. She was good, but he could tell she grew tired, gasped for breath as her strength paled against the larger man. Bigger and stronger, the attacker looked like he worked out and fought every day for a living. He could already have killed her. Why was he toying with her?

Regardless of the reasons, his intentions were clear and he would overpower her soon.

All this Cooper took in on his approach. Before he reached the two, the man shoved her to the ground, straddled her and wrapped his hands around her throat.

Showtime.

Cooper made himself known, aimed his weapon at the man’s head. “Let her go.”

But the man ignored Cooper and continued to strangle her. The woman’s eyes were already bloodshot.

“Let her go now, or I will shoot you.” He fired off a warning shot. Still the man didn’t let go.

Cooper didn’t want to kill anyone. He’d seen too much blood already. Instead, he rushed him like a linebacker, barreling into him. Muscle jarred—steel swords clashing—as Cooper toppled the man, pushing him off the woman.

Together, they fell against the rocky ground, pebbles and sharp stones grinding into them. Cooper rolled and scrambled to his feet, raising his arm to strike the man across the head with the butt of his weapon, hoping to knock him unconscious. As his hand came down, the man thrust his arm up and gripped Cooper’s wrist with surprising strength, preventing his strike.

He’d underestimated this man.

They rushed each other like two rutting elks. The fight was on, and Cooper’s weapon was tossed aside like an afterthought. A Green Beret in the army, he had his own set of hand-to-hand combat skills that included a variety of fighting styles. And right now, he was more than glad his exercise program continued to challenge him. Otherwise he would already be dead.

But he didn’t practice this on a daily basis. Why should he? And now the man had him on the defensive, protecting all his vulnerable parts.

Eyes, neck, throat, solar plexus...

If he had any doubts before about his opponent’s profession, they were long gone. He was certain this man was a hit man... No.

More than that.

An assassin.

Cooper had met his match and on his own home turf, no less.

Sweat trickled into his eyes and burned. He gasped for breath, ignored the pain. Ignored the frustration and let his instincts and fighting skills work for him. Cooper knew he was the weaker opponent in this match.

But he had an advantage somewhere.

What was it?

There had to be one.

They circled each other now, the man catching his breath as well. Something like the pleasure of a challenge glinted in the man’s dark eyes.

“I haven’t ever fought a mountain man.” A scoffing laugh erupted.

Mountain man? So the man was trying to taunt him now?

“Then I have the advantage. I’ve fought plenty of killers. You’re nothing special.”

The other man just laughed, and pulled a knife from his pocket. “I’ve enjoyed sparring with you. But now the fun is over. This woman has already been too much trouble for me. Are you willing to lose your life for her?”

Cooper had no plans to die today, but who did? “I have every intention of making sure she’s safe. That you don’t succeed in killing her.”

“Do you even know her?”

“Never seen her before in my life.”

“A hero, then. Don’t be a martyr, too—just walk away.”

“Why are you trying to kill her?” Cooper asked, borrowing time. But the assassin was also stalling. For what purpose, Cooper couldn’t know.

“I tell you what...” He gestured behind him to the cliff’s edge. “You toss her down the cliff for me and I’ll let you live.”

The man was twisted in ways Cooper didn’t want to linger on.

But he’d given Cooper an advantage, sparking a memory that allowed anger and rage from the past to drive him, empower him. He’d watched his brother throw himself over. Commit suicide.

Cooper hadn’t been able to stop him. Now was the moment he could let go and unleash the beast.

Letting that memory fuel him, Cooper charged the man and quickly disarmed him of the knife. They rolled until they were at the cliff’s edge. Doubt crawled over Cooper. Would the assassin push him off the ledge to his death? Take Cooper with him when he fell?

Then the woman was there, pounding on the assassin entangled with Cooper, using martial arts again until the man freed himself from them—but then lost his footing. He hung on to the gnarled roots growing from the rocky ledge as he clung for his life.

Cooper reached for him. “Give me your hand. I’ll pull you up.”

Fear didn’t grip the man like Cooper would have expected. Instead anger and hate filled the man’s gaze. Determination marked his features, and he made no move to accept Cooper’s help. Cooper reached, grabbing the man’s arm. In this position, the man could take him with him if he chose to fall and drag Cooper along.

What am I doing?

But even if the man was an assassin, Cooper couldn’t stand by and watch another man die like this. And anyway, he still wanted answers.

“Why kill her? What’s she to you? Who are you?” In his peripheral vision, he could see that she stood back and away from the edge, eerily silent. She had to already know the answer.

A smirk lifted the man’s lips. “It’s just business. If I die, it’s only a matter of time before another will come.”

Then, he twisted out of Cooper’s grip and dropped, his body falling hundreds of feet toward the rocky Rogue River rapids below.

Cooper couldn’t bring himself to watch, this image melding with the other of his brother’s fall to his death.

But now was not the time to lose himself in memories or guilt. Not when the woman was still there, with possibly another killer on her trail.

* * *

Hadley pressed her hand against her midsection, trying to comprehend what had just happened. Cold laced the wind that rushed over her and rustled the trees like it was any other day. As though none of what she’d experienced had happened.

The man who’d fought with the assassin turned away from the cliff’s edge and faced her, his broad shoulders rising and falling as he caught his breath— Or maybe in disbelief.

He tugged off his ripped jacket. Sweat darkened the back of his shirt, torn at the arm.

If only she could get the assassin’s last words out of her head.

It’s just business. If I die, it’s only a matter of time before another will come.

Nausea roiled. She’d done the best she could to disappear. Now what? Where did she go?

Her eyes rose to the face of the man who’d inserted himself into her fight. It was caked with blood and dirt, as was his shaggy brown hair. His steel-blue eyes stared at her. He appeared as shocked as she was from the events of the last few moments.

But he was still alive.

She took in his sturdy six-foot form. He didn’t look much older than her. Early thirties, maybe? He was definitely well-trained. He’d somehow survived fighting with the assassin sent to kill her.

Her relief palpable, she almost cried.

“Are you okay?” His voice was gentler than she had expected.

But what must he think of her? “No.”

This wasn’t over.

I have to know.

Hadley rushed over to the edge. She had to see the body. Had to see that he was dead.

The man caught her at the waist and pulled her back from the edge.

“Whoa. What are you doing?”

She twisted in his arms. Powerful arms. “I have to see that he’s dead! To make sure he’s gone.” She sounded like a crazy person. She didn’t recognize her own voice.

“He’s dead.”

“Let me go!”

When he relinquished his hold, oddly, Hadley almost wished he hadn’t. She crept to the edge and vertigo hit her. She forced herself to look down, searching, but when she swayed on her feet, he gently gripped her arm and tugged her back.

“I don’t see him.”

“The river took him.”

“Then he could still be alive.”

“No, he couldn’t.”

“But you don’t know that.”

“Look. He’s dead, all right?”

“I don’t know.” Wouldn’t she feel safer if he was dead? Instead, she didn’t feel safe at all. “He seemed so invincible. I can’t believe the fall would kill him. Is there a chance that he could have survived, no matter how small?”

He produced a sigh as if giving up. “Yes. There’s always a chance. Of course, there is. It’s doubtful, but anything is possible.”

Okay, so there was that possibility. And another equally as terrifying.

Hadley opened her eyes. “You heard him. It doesn’t matter if he’s dead. Someone else will come.”

Deep lines creased his forehead. He studied her as if he were sifting through her insides, looking for anything good and coming up short. Now she’d done it.

Why had she blurted that out?

“Who was he? Why does he want to kill you?”

“I don’t know.”

Squeezing her eyes shut, she thrust her hands in her hair and fisted them, wanting this to end. Wanting to curl into a ball and cry. But that wasn’t an option.

She couldn’t afford to reveal anything but her strong side. Hated that this stranger saw her moment of weakness. Except she needed this chance to release the anguish.

Though her knees shook, limbs trembled, she wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t release the racking sobs building up inside.

She needed to force strength into her shaky legs and walk out of here. Grab her gear at the place she’d rented—a remote cabin that the killer should never have been able to find. If she hadn’t seen him from a distance, she wouldn’t have been able to make a run for it into the wilderness.

That run for her life had only gained her a few moments, yet that had been enough time for an unexpected warrior to appear and fight on her behalf.

Drawing in a calming breath, she opened her eyes. The man was grimacing, and his own eyes were closed. Hadley focused on him instead of herself. He must have been stabbed or injured in some way.

“Where are you hurt?”

He opened his eyes. She could clearly see the pain in them, but it wasn’t physical. It looked like something more. Something deeper. “I asked if you’re hurt,” she repeated.

“Not in any way that can be fixed. What about you?”

She could have answered in the same way. “I’m okay.”

“Then let’s get you out of here.”

He grabbed her arm, but Hadley had no intention of going anywhere with him. “Let me go.”

He did as she asked.

She sucked in a breath. “Thank you for helping me. You saved my life.”

“You were holding your own there.”

“Barely. He would have killed me if you hadn’t come. Now, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll get back to whatever you were doing and I’ll just be on my way.”

“Hold on.” He caught her again, and this time tightened his grip. “You sure you don’t know who he was or why he was trying to kill you? That man wasn’t just anyone. He was a trained killer. I want some answers. And you can’t just run off. We have to report what happened. A man is dead.”

Trust no one.

She couldn’t trust the police. But how did she explain this to her rescuer? He’d helped her...but she couldn’t rely on him. And even if she had been willing to trust him, she had no right to pull him into her troubles. It would be better and safer for them both if she pushed him away.

Hadley stared at his hand on her arm. “Like I said, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll let me go now. You know I can fight you if I have to.”

Immediately he released her. “I’m just trying to help. Let’s call the sheriff. I need to report what happened. That...someone fell over a cliff.” A deep agony edged his tone.

Hadley searched the woods for the direction she should hike. She didn’t like the way he was hanging on, trying to prevent her from escaping, though she could tell he meant well.

“I can’t wait around.”

The man stiffened at that. “Look, I’m no idiot. I know I just fought with an assassin, and likely what’s going on here is more than a backcountry sheriff can handle, but there are still channels to go through.”

Hadley had slowly started putting distance between them. The sooner she left him behind the better. But he seemed to be on to her plan and stepped forward. He held his palms out. “Don’t I have the right to know if by helping you that I’ve involved myself in something? What if someone is going to come looking for me now, too?”

His words reached across the way and grabbed her throat. Squeezed a few tears up into her eyes. Her father. The cabdriver. No more. No one else could die.

“That’s why I have to get out of here. Just stay away from me!” Hadley turned and ran toward the deeper woods.

“Look, what’s your name?” he called. “At least give me that. I’ll go first. My name is Cooper Wilde. I own and run Wilderness, Inc.”

She slowed then. Turned to face him. Please, don’t tell me any more. She couldn’t get further entangled with him.

Hadley had a few ideas of what sort of business that might be, but she wasn’t sure what name she could give him. Her alias? Or her real name? “Look. You’re a good guy, I can see that. But I need to disappear. I don’t know you and I can’t trust you. I can’t trust anyone. I don’t want to get you involved and risk getting you killed because of me.”

“I’m already involved. I just dispatched the bad guy, in case you hadn’t noticed.” His voice turned curt.

Sounded like he was running out of patience.

“And don’t make me have to fight the good guys, too. Okay?” Hadley started back the way she’d come, pushing through the brush, reminiscing each terrifying moment she’d spent trying to outsmart, outrun and out-hide a man who was trying to kill her, all because of her father.

Even he hadn’t known who was targeting them. Could only guess at a revenge contract.

What would it hurt to have someone to lean on? Someone she could trust?

But she didn’t know who that would be.

She glanced over her shoulder and didn’t see Cooper following her. The sharp pain of disappointment stabbed her, but she couldn’t let herself depend on anyone else.

To depend on someone else could be deadly.

THREE

Thirst drove her worse than her exhaustion as she hiked every miserable mile back to the rental cabin. This time, she failed to even bother to search the area for anyone waiting there to kill her.

With not one ounce of energy left, she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Finally, there it was, tucked away in the greenery like something from a postcard. Seeing the cabin revived her. There, she could sit. Massage her aching feet. Drink a gallon of water.

She crept onto the porch. Cautiously, she pushed through the door, thinking back to that moment when she’d spotted the man who meant to kill her. She’d seen it in his stance, his prowling around the cabin, and then in his eyes.

But he wasn’t a problem right now. Even if he’d survived the fall, he had to be badly injured, and would need a recovery period before he could attack again. If someone else came for her, she was counting on that taking some time. Either way, she had a little breathing room—which was a very good thing. She needed a chance to catch her breath. Get her feet under her.

Hadley dropped in the old rickety chair in the corner and hugged herself, her insides turning over. She gulped the old musty air in the room. If she wasn’t safe here, in the middle of this wild backcountry—then where could she go?

But she had to leave now, because that man—Cooper Wilde—would bring the local authorities to her door. The sheriff’s office had to investigate the report of the death of an assassin and his attempt to kill Hadley. Then she would be questioned. And if they discovered she had a fake passport and a bag of cash, they would get even more suspicious if not take her into custody. She could already be wanted for questioning in her father’s death, especially since she ran from the scene after calling the police to begin with.

And once in custody, she would be an easy target for a contract killer.

No. She couldn’t let that happen.

She had to find a solid hiding place or keep moving, at least until she knew who was behind this. So far, she’d been simply trying to survive. She hadn’t had time to worry about discovering who was after her. Yet she had a feeling none of this would end until the person who wanted her dead was truly unmasked.

But that was a problem for another day. Today, her focus was on staying alive.

Drawing on strength she didn’t feel, Hadley gathered the few items she’d purchased in Medford. She thought back to how she’d gotten to Gideon, Oregon, the small town smack in the middle of the Wild Rogue Wilderness.

Once she had arrived at the Portland airport, she’d learned from the agent at the ticketing counter that the next available flight was to Medford, Oregon. Hadley had almost gasped. That was perfect. From there she could drive to Gideon. Hadn’t she always wanted to spend time in the Wild Rogue Wilderness? She could hide out and paint.

But her attempt to salvage her dream hadn’t lasted long. She hadn’t been here a day when the assassin had shown up to kill her.

She grabbed the backpack with the cash and her new identity. How had he tracked her? Had he known the name on her passport? If so, then she’d need a new one. But Hadley didn’t have a clue how to change her identity.

With a quick intake of breath, she let the pack slip to the floor and thought back to those last moments with her father. She couldn’t get them out of her head.

He’d taught her skills. Yes. The self-defense training had kept her alive. But why hadn’t he taught her other skills—like how to hide, or create a false identity? She had no experience with deception—but her father, it seemed, was a master. He wasn’t the man she had thought he was. There was so much more she wished she had known, and now she never would.

Had he lied about her mother, too? Hadley had been told that her parents had lived happily in that small house on the Oregon Coast until her mother died in childbirth. What was the real story behind the house where they spent Christmas every year? Was it all a sham?

Oh, God. What do I do now? This wasn’t supposed to happen. Why couldn’t You at least have let my father live, so we could have run away together? He could have protected me.

She had to pull herself together to survive another day.

Hadley could do this. She must if she wanted to live.

She picked up the pack and pulled it on again. If only she had the luxury of telling her story to the sheriff like a normal person experiencing a normal crime.

But there wasn’t anything about this situation that was normal. Her father had said she should trust no one and she would adhere to his advice for now. There was nothing anyone could do for her, not even Cooper Wilde, the assassin killer.

She thought back to the wild intensity in his eyes, the visible strength of his body springing into action. A protector on steroids.

He had skills. Part of her regretted leaving him so abruptly. But surely it was for the best.

A faint noise, the hint of a sound, drew her attention. She held her breath and listened.

Not-so-subtle footfalls clunked on the porch.

Her biggest regret was that she hadn’t had a chance to grab her weapon like her father had told her. Nor had she had a chance to buy a new one.

She’d give anything for that protection now.

Clunk, clunk, clunk.

If it was another assassin, he could shoot her right through the wall. Fear gripped her. She held still and kept quiet. She wouldn’t give herself away if it weren’t already too late.

Someone knocked. “Are you there? It’s Cooper.”

Sweat bled from her palms. If only they were wrapped around her Glock.

Trust no one.

Never mind this man had saved her life. Maybe he was a threat to her, maybe he wasn’t. Right now, what bothered her was that he’d found her too quickly and easily. Why was it so hard to disappear?

* * *

“What do you want?”

Cooper scraped a hand down his face, wishing he’d had a chance to clean up.

“To talk. That’s all.”

“Is the sheriff with you?”

He leaned against the door, wanting to break through, but that would send her running quicker than anything. “No.”

Not yet.

He’d called once he’d gotten a signal but there wasn’t a deputy on duty for another four hours. The county seat where the sheriff’s office resided was sixty miles from Gideon. Still, the dispatcher said she’d make some calls and see if she could get someone out to Cooper.

Good thing the town wasn’t under siege. The joy of living in an actual designated wilderness region.

Never mind the location was so remote mail arrived via boat service. Oh well, if it was good enough for novelist Zane Grey, who wrote in a nearby cabin, it was good enough for Cooper.

“I don’t have time,” she said.

That’s right. She was in a hurry to run away.