Free Gone Too Deep by Katie Ruggle Page A

her nerveless fingers. Turning over the map so it was blank-side up and using the wall as a writing surface, George scribbled a couple of lines and then handed the paper to her. As soon as she accepted it, he turned and stomped out of the training room.
    â€œHo-ly cow!” Lou was suddenly standing next to her. “I want every single detail of that conversation, because I couldn’t hear a thing over those loud idiots.” She swung an arm to indicate a cluster of men standing on the other side of the training room. “Not a single one of those useless buggers could read lips, either, so I’m dying to know—did he actually say yes?”
    Still stunned, Ellie turned toward the other woman and stared at her until the final question penetrated. Only then did she start to smile. “Yes.”
    With a squeal of delight, Lou threw her arms around Ellie. Grinning, Ellie squeezed her just as hard. The two women bounced in a circle, still hugging. When they finally stopped, everyone in the room was staring at them.
    Too happy to be embarrassed, Ellie just ignored their audience.
    â€œWhen are you leaving?” Lou asked, reminding Ellie of the scribbled note on the back of the map. She flipped it over and read the scrawled words.
    31490 Cty Rd 43. 6 a.m.
    â€œTomorrow morning.” Meeting Lou’s gaze, Ellie grinned and held up the paper so the other woman could read it. “I’m going to find my dad, Lou.”
    â€œYes.” Lou grabbed her in another hug, crumpling the map between them. “You are.”
    * * *
    Anderson King glanced at his brother. After only two hours, Wilson was snoring, his head cocked back against the passenger seat. With a shake of his head, Anderson refocused on the motel room door. A familiar mix of exasperation and protectiveness flowed through him. It was the same feeling he’d always had for his brother, ever since his dad had shoved a scrawny, red-faced, bulgy-eyed infant into Anderson’s arms with the admonition to “shut the little fucker up.”
    When they’d been kids, Wilson never had been any good at sitting still. He’d always been the one to make a sudden movement or a sound when they’d been hunting. It’d been Wilson who used to spook their prey, sending that fish or rabbit or pretty neighbor girl bolting for safety.
    Stillness was easy for Anderson. In the service, he’d learned to turn into a statue for hours, become part of the landscape—a harmless boulder, an innocent shadow—until the target stepped into his crosshairs. He didn’t need to doze like Wilson, didn’t need to fidget or squirm.
    So now, while his brother slept, Anderson would wait, motionless. Once she left the motel room, he’d follow. He’d be patient, and she’d lead him right to his latest prey.

Chapter 4
    Although clean, the motel bed wasn’t very comfortable. That plus nerves kept Ellie awake for most of the night. Between thoughts about the upcoming hike and worry that someone would pound on the door, demanding she leave her pilfered room, sleep was impossible. Despite her best efforts at keeping her hands away from her mouth during the endless dark hours she spent tossing and turning, the skin around her fingernails was raw, and her left index finger had actually bled.
    In the artificial light of the motel bathroom, she wrapped her gnawed finger in a rough, generic-brand tissue. It wasn’t quite five a.m., but she was already dressed and ready to go. Her bleeding hangnail had convinced her to leave early. Sitting around her dark motel room was just shredding her nerves along with her fingers.
    She packed up her rental car and left the second room key on the motel room table. The front desk was manned by a tiny, gray-haired woman, who accepted the returned key with a sleepy smile. Ellie’s own smile was tight as she wondered if this was the owner who had given Joseph access to her room. As she