Canyon Standoff Read online

  As she turned away he said, “Holly, wait.” The words were out of his mouth before he’d taken time to think through what he wanted to tell her.

  “Yes?”

  “I don’t have time to go over all the safety rules so I hope you remember them.”

  “You mean like ‘don’t dive into any raging rivers without a rope anchoring me to shore’?”

  “Yeah. Like that.” His radio crackled. The others were almost in position and not seeing any activity in or around the station. “Look, I’ve gotta go. If you hear the code word, vacation, that means change radio frequencies to confuse the crooks. I don’t have the list with me but you can find us if you scan.” Concern welled within him. He started to pat her shoulder, then thought better of it.

  “One promise?” she asked.

  “What?”

  “Let’s keep this little side trip to ourselves. I wasn’t sent here to rescue lost hikers. I was sent to capture fugitives. The only reason I’m not going with you right now is because you have them cornered and I’m really not necessary. Yet.”

  “Agreed. If I get the drop on them before you get back, I’ll hold them for you so you get all the credit. No extra charge.”

  Smiling, she offered her right hand. Gabe took it, meaning only to shake the way he would to seal any bargain.

  A tingle raced up his arm the moment their hands joined, leaving a wake of surprising warmth and awareness. He didn’t have to ask if she felt it, too. Her dark eyes were wide, lashes damp with rain, and she seemed as startled as he was.

  A tug freed his hold and she took off, breaking into an easy lope along the more even ground of the canyon bottom. Gabe turned to face the besieged ranger station. He could see knots of tourists in the distance. Some summer volunteers and river concessionaires were holding back crowds as best they could and a couple of leathery-faced mule skinners had mounted up and positioned themselves along the broader approaches and the footbridge entrance in order to limit public access.

  “This is going to work,” Gabe told himself, adding “Thank You, God” to his earlier prayers.

  He was reaching for his radio to coordinate with his team when there was a loud bang followed by the characteristic whine of a bullet. His head whipped around. He scanned for the shooter, saw no one, then turned toward the place he’d last seen Holly.

  She’d disappeared!

  THREE

  Holly had hit the dirt on her stomach the instant she’d realized shots were being fired. Heart racing, pulse pounding in her ears, she waited for the next bullet. It didn’t come.

  Slowly, cautiously, she rose, keeping her loaded backpack between her and the general direction of the ranger station, where she thought the noise had originated. With the echoes up and down the canyon, it was hard to be certain, but given the drama currently unfolding at Spirit Ranch and the station nearby, it made sense.

  She wiped muddy, sandy hands on her jeans and held her breath to listen, wondering if her wisest move would be to try to return to Gabe. The rain was moving on and the air was clear. Clean. Except for her continued hammering heartbeats, the canyon was silent.

  And then she heard it. A call for help. And another. The voice was high and reedy. She’d been right! This victim was a woman or a child. Or one of each. Were they lost? Injured? Only a personal investigation would tell.

  Her radio crackled. She grabbed it, noticing that her hand was shaking slightly. “Forbes.”

  “You okay, FBI?”

  “Yeah. Muddy but fine. I ducked, just in case. You?”

  “Same. I’m going to need a vacation when this is over.”

  “Me, too. I can still hear the lost hiker calling for help. I’m headed that way.”

  “Copy. Take care.”

  “Always,” Holly replied.

  Gabe had given the code word. There was no telling how often the rangers were going to change their radio signals so she’d wait until she needed to talk to them before fiddling with the settings on her radio. She knew from experience that even the strongest satellite signals could be unreliable inside the canyon and using cell phones was impossible. When park visitors meant to get back to nature, they had no trouble doing it in the bottom of the 277-mile-long Grand Canyon.

  If they had been John Muir or John Wesley Powell, they’d have come prepared the way she and the rangers had. The problem was, many vacationers disregarded sensible warnings because they thought they were smarter or more physically fit than average. That was when the canyon took its toll, sometimes fatally.

  Fan-shaped soil and rock deposited by erosion at the base of a narrow slot canyon slowed Holly’s progress while rock formations channeled the calls for help like a stone megaphone. Leaning into the climb, she pressed on, slipping on wet rocks, which caused her to slide here and there. No other footprints showed, but they wouldn’t after the hard rain.

  Holly scanned overhead, checking for storm clouds. None were visible. That was a good sign, although the steep rise of the canyon side did block a lot of her view. She cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted up the steep-sided rift. “Hello? Anybody there?”

  To her relief and delight, a woman called, “Yes! Up here. Help!”

  “Hang on. I’m on my way. Can you come down to me?”

  “No. I think my son has a broken leg.”

  There was no point asking why the mother and child had left known trails and ventured off on their own. It happened all the time. It was as if the serpentine slits leading off the main canyon summoned hikers, promising to reveal marvelous secrets that obedient visitors might miss. Holly understood the appeal. She’d had her share of adventures as a teen, although she’d never needed to be helped to find her way back.

  Sometimes she’d discovered hidden pools of rainwater that were a lot warmer for swimming than the icy river. Sometimes there were ancient rock markings made by Native Americans who had revered the canyon and treated it with utmost respect.

  Holly continued to pull herself up, climbing water-smoothed, rippling rocks that were layered like the stacks of pancakes served in the Spirit Ranch lodge. Her stomach growled at the thought. She ignored it. Each corner she turned was one closer to the injured little boy. If he wasn’t too big, maybe she and his mother could carry him out once she’d splinted his leg, assuming it was actually broken. As soon as she had assessed the situation she’d radio Gabe and fill him in.

  Grunting with the effort, she hoisted herself over a wide outcropping and finally saw them. The woman began to weep loudly. “Oh, thank you, Ranger.”

  “I’m not a ranger,” Holly said, “but I used to work here as a volunteer.” She sidled past the mother to get to the child. His face was beet red, his breathing shallow.

  “When was the last time you gave him water?” Holly asked, checking him over quickly.

  “We ran out. I was sure I had enough but after he got hurt, we used it all up. I’ve been calling and calling. Where are all the day trippers?”

  “It’s a long story.” Holly lowered her pack and got out one of her bottles of water, offering some to the child. “Here. Don’t drink it too fast or it might make you sick.”

  She turned the job of dispensing sips of water over to the mother. “We need to get you and...”

  The mother supplied names. “He’s Robert and I’m Renee.”

  “I’m Holly. We need to get Robert and you out of here and back to the first aid station on the rim.”

  “What about Robbie’s leg?”

  “I don’t think it’s broken. But I’ll stabilize it just in case. Then you and I will pack him out.”

  “I can’t carry him and climb. I tried. The rocks are too loose. I kept slipping.”

  As frustrated as she was, Holly knew better than to argue with a frantic parent. What she needed was backup. What she wanted was Gabe McClellan. However, any muscle would do in a pin
ch. Too bad other park rangers had managed to stop most tourists from descending. The only visitors left were those who had begun their journey before the trail was blocked or inveterate hikers who had managed to sneak past the barricades.

  Pebbles rained down on them from an upper trail, catching Holly by surprise. “Hey! Anybody up there? We need some help here,” she shouted.

  Too close to the canyon walls to see very far above, she was happy to draw one man’s attention. He peered over the edge of the loop of trail directly above them.

  “Can you join us and help? I need to rig a way for this child and his mother to be rescued.”

  “Why me?”

  She merely smiled and shrugged. “You’re handy. I really need some muscle and the rangers are busy.”

  “They are, huh?”

  “Yes, they are. Can we count on you?”

  “How do I know you didn’t hurt the kid yourself? Maybe push him or something?”

  “Because I’m an officer of the law,” Holly said, so fed up with this hiker she could scream.

  “I suppose you can prove that?”

  “Yes.” She pulled out her FBI identification. “Can you see this from up there?”

  “Good enough. Why didn’t you call the rangers to rescue him? They do this kind of stuff all the time, right?”

  “Because they’re dealing with a crisis of their own.”

  “Okay, okay. How do I get there without falling off this cliff?”

  “You should be able to sit down and slide to us. Just use your feet and hands as brakes so you don’t overshoot. Once you’re here, we can carry the boy out at the bottom and make an evacuation plan.”

  His “Okay” sounded reluctant. “Step back so you’re not in my way in case I can’t stop.”

  Holly was so relieved, she had little else on her mind. Moving the mother and child aside, she supported Robbie’s injured side and used her own back to shield him from pebbles that might be dislodged.

  The stranger’s descent was noisy and would have been dusty, too, if the rain had not recently dampened the loose rock and sand.

  He landed with a thud just behind her. She straightened, preparing to offer to shake his hand, then froze. Her supposed hiker was wearing dress shoes and slacks. There was no suit jacket over his soggy, dirty, long-sleeved shirt, but that hardly mattered. The instant she looked into his squinting eyes, she knew.

  She’d seen his face in the grainy security footage.

  She was in deep trouble.

  FOUR

  Gabe devoted his full attention to the planned siege until receiving orders from National Park Service headquarters to hold his position. A trained FBI negotiator was on the way and the powers that be wanted the rangers on scene to defer to him or her.

  That suited Gabe just fine as long as the FBI hurried. He’d watched storm clouds pass his location and begin to shadow the craggy, mile-high walls, showing that it was still too soon to chance another flight. Until someone had actually stood in the bottom of the gorge the way he was now, it was impossible to fully appreciate the ruggedness and distance involved. Same went for the clouds swiftly crossing the rim and disappearing out of sight. Their actual positions over land could be very deceptive.

  A niggling sense of impending disaster kept him on edge. Where was Holly? He switched his radio back to the original setting and called her. “Status report, Forbes.”

  Nothing. The airwaves were silent. He tried again. “McClellan to Forbes. Report.”

  Sounding breathless, she finally said, “I’m in a really cramped canyon offshoot of Kaibab Trail with a mother and child.”

  “Narrow? How far up does it go?”

  “That’s unknown.”

  “Be advised. The storm is still over the south rim. I can see heavy rain falling. Watch for runoff.”

  “Copy.”

  Someone else broke in. “Flash flooding reported all along the rim, north and south. Evacuation recommended.”

  That was enough for Gabe. He ran up to one of the familiar mule skinners and quickly explained his need for the animal.

  No questions were asked. None were needed. The other man dismounted and passed him the reins. Gabe took control. He’d spent plenty of leisure hours with the mules, partly because he missed ranch life in Texas. Chosen for strong constitutions and docile temperaments, the mules were a lot more intelligent and athletic than they usually appeared. With the right rider aboard, a Grand Canyon National Park mule could be almost as fast as a good horse and a lot more sensible.

  He tightened his knees and gave his mount an easy kick. Ears laid back, it bunched under him and sprang forward as if starting a race. Its running gait was a little choppier than that of most horses but Gabe needed its superior stamina.

  He leaned into the wind, guiding the mule to retrace his own path to the place where he’d last seen Holly. As he had feared, there was no sign of her.

  “Forbes!” he broadcast. “Did you hear the warning? Climb.”

  Radio static set every nerve in his body tingling with apprehension. She must have heard. She had to have. Any other scenario was unacceptable.

  Mule and rider took off through the rocks and brush. Gabe knew roughly where Holly was. That would have to do. The danger to her and the tourists would be brief, yet there was no escape from the rushing waters other than taking to higher ground. Outrunning the deluge was as impossible as trying to pace the special tourist train that came out of Williams. Once a flood started, it was unstoppable, gaining strength and gathering debris every second.

  Gabe nudged the mule for more speed and shouted into the radio, “Holly! Climb!”

  * * *

  Part of Holly felt in charge of the situation despite the fact that the well-dressed thug had gotten the drop on her, now had possession of her sidearm and was waving his own gun around like a toy.

  “Are you listening? Did you hear that?” she asked, surprised to hear so much command in her voice. “We can’t stand around down here until you decide what you’re going to do. We need to escape.”

  “So you say. How do I know this isn’t a trick? You’re the expert, not me.” He gestured at the handheld radio. “Maybe you and your boyfriend worked this out just to nab me.”

  “And planted an injured little boy in your path?” She rolled her eyes. “Oh, sure. Like I knew you were going to be on that exact branch of the trail.” Frowning, she paused. “How did you get up there anyway? I thought you and your buddies were holed up at the ranger station.” The minute those words were out of her mouth, she realized her error.

  “You know who I am.”

  “Everybody does.”

  “I don’t think so, lady. I thought you were kidding when you said you were a cop. Give me that radio. And let me see your ID again.”

  As she held out the radio and slowly reached for her badge wallet, she began issuing orders. “Okay. Here’s what’s going to happen—unless you want to bring the whole federal government down on your head. I’m going to pick up Robbie, and Renee and I are going to scale that wall. You’re going to let us, and if I were you, I’d come along.”

  The thug was squinting at her FBI credentials and muttering to himself as if he wasn’t hearing anything she said.

  Holly handed her backpack to the weeping woman, helped the child to his feet, bent low in front of him and said, “Put your arms around my neck and your legs around my waist, like you’re my pack. Understand?”

  “Uh-huh,” he whimpered. “My leg hurts.”

  “We have to climb to higher ground. Like superheroes. Can you be really brave for me?”

  She felt him nod. His grip tightened. Placing her boots carefully, she started up the slippery sides of the canyon, still urging everyone to follow. “Step where I do and look for handholds as you go, Renee. Don’t be too picky, just hurry.”

  In t
he background she heard a hum becoming a roar. The acoustics of the narrow fissure where they were trapped amplified the sound, making it all the more terrifying.

  “Climb! Faster!” Holly shouted. “It’s coming.”

  A quick glance behind told her that Renee had found the courage to follow. Standing in the bottom of the rocky draw, the thug had her gun in one hand, her radio in his other, and was staring at the roiling flash flood waters as they tumbled toward him, a wall of red mud, rock and death.

  Holly kept scrambling, praying all the way that they were high enough to escape being swept away by the torrent. Every step was punctuated by a fresh “Please, Jesus. Please...”

  * * *

  Gabe heard static on his radio, then a background roar, then a strangled scream. Every nerve in his body fired in response.

  “Holly!”

  Reacting to his rider’s panic, the mule kicked, nearly unseating Gabe. “Easy, boy. Easy.”

  He regained control of both his emotions and his mount. They were almost there. A trickle of dirty, reddish-brown water marked the path. The mule tossed his head, took the bit in his teeth and literally leaped to the side.

  Gabe hung on, knowing what was happening. Self-preservation had gripped the intelligent animal and it was fleeing impending death at breakneck speed, carrying him to higher ground whether he wanted to go or not.

  His heart plummeted. “Oh, Holly, what have you done?”

  As the mule reached a small plateau, it slowed. Its sides were heaving, its nostrils flared. Gabe trusted the wise equine. They were out of danger.

  Below, where they had stood only moments before, the ground was alive with roiling, cascading mud. If Holly and the family she’d been trying to help hadn’t reached high ground in time, they’d surely have been swallowed by the flash flood waters.

  It was over in mere minutes. Debris remained, as did knee-deep, slippery mud, but the terrifying movement had nearly ceased. He leaned down and patted the breathless mule’s neck. “Extra rations for you when we get back,” he said tenderly. “I just wish you’d been a few minutes faster.”