A Broken Bone (Widow's Island #6) - Melinda Leigh Page 0,21

locals knew how to avoid the busy spots.

“We’ll check when we get up there.” Logan stopped to adjust his pack.

Tessa suspected he was pausing to let her rest. She squinted up the trail. “Let’s go.” She would not be the one to hold up the group. They had only about ninety minutes of daylight left. The descent would be rough in the dark.

Jerry scrambled up a rocky slope. Logan climbed onto a boulder and held a hand down for her. She took it, and he hauled her up beside him. Before Tessa could gain her footing, something struck her on the shoulder. A small rock bounced down the steep trail. Tessa rubbed her shoulder.

The sound of more rocks shifting caught her attention. She looked up. Rocks tumbled toward them.

“Shit!” A few feet above them, Jerry ducked behind a tree.

Logan shoved Tessa off the boulder they’d just climbed. After pushing her against the rock, he shielded her with his own body. A small avalanche of dirt and rocks rained down on them. When it stopped, Logan straightened. They were covered in dirt. Blood trickled down his temple, but the cut didn’t seem to be deep.

“Was that an accident?” Logan sounded doubtful.

Tessa scanned the trail. “There’s only one way to find out. We have to get up there.”

“Let’s go around.” Logan led her to the other side of the boulder.

A scream echoed from above, the sound chilling Tessa’s blood to ice. A rock the size of a bowling ball came flying down the slope toward them. They jumped out of the way.

Logan whispered, “I think I can climb up the back side of the plateau.”

“There’s no cover,” Tessa whispered. “Remember, he could have a gun.”

“Then why isn’t he using it now?”

Tessa frowned at him for a second, then nodded. “I’ll distract him.”

“Keep your head down.” He dropped his backpack and headed off the trail just as another rock tumbled down the slope.

Logan dug deep and propelled himself up the slope. Without the heavy pack weighing him down, he could maneuver more freely. He heard more rocks cascading down the slope. He needed to stop Carl from throwing rocks down on Tessa and Jerry. The only way to do that was to sneak up the back side of the plateau and surprise him.

He abandoned the trail. He circled around the boulder and scanned the twenty feet of rocky slope above him. There was only one way up. He reached for a handhold and began to climb. If Carl saw him now, Logan would not be able to avoid being hit. Sweat dripped down his back as he sought purchase with the toe of his boot. He pushed upward, trying to be both fast and quiet.

He stopped just below the plateau and listened. Once he stuck his head over the edge, there would be no turning back.

“Carl! Carl Hammer!” Tessa yelled. “This is Deputy Black. I just want to talk to you.”

“Leave me alone!” Carl shouted back.

More rocks tumbled down the other side of the slope, toward Tessa. Logan used the noise as cover. He hooked one hand over a thick root and heaved himself over the edge. Fifty feet above him, water gushed from a break in the rocky mountainside. It cascaded over boulders and into a clear pool. Next to the pool, a small shelter had been built out of pine boughs. Inside, Carl had made a bed out of pine needles and dead leaves. At the edge of the pine-bough lean-to was a firepit ringed with rocks. A skinny plume of smoke curled from its center.

Logan looked for Carl and spotted him about thirty feet away. He was leaning over the edge, looking down, his back to Logan.

Tessa was right. If Carl had killed Gavin, then Carl had a gun. But as much as Logan wanted to apprehend Carl, he couldn’t just charge and tackle him. They’d both go over the edge.

After drawing his gun, Logan took a deep breath, stepped closer, and raised the gun. “Carl! Drop the rock!”

Carl whirled. He barely resembled his driver’s license photo. That Carl had been an average guy. This Carl was a wild man. He’d lost at least twenty pounds since that picture had been taken. Dirt streaked his green jacket, and his hair fell in a tangled mess that reached his shoulders. He clutched another rock in both hands like a caveman defending himself from a saber-toothed tiger.

“Carl, we just want to talk.” Logan kept the gun pointed at him. “Drop the rock.”

Carl’s