River’s End

figured out when I stuck the barrel in my mouth? When I had my finger on the trigger and couldn’t pull it?”
    His voice became confident and clear. “I didn’t kill Julie. I wouldn’t have had the guts.”
    “Let’s go talk about it.” As Noah stepped forward, reaching out with one hand for the gun. there was a crash in the brush, a blur of movement.
    He felt pain rip along his shoulder as he turned, heard a scream that wasn’t his own. He saw David Melbourne’s contorted face as the force of the attack sent him ramming against Sam, tumbling them both to the ground.
    Noah rolled aside, agony spearing through his wounded shoulder as he thrust his hands up, caught the wrist of David”s knife hand. Noah’s lips peeled back in a snarl of effort as his bloody hands began to slip.
    The blade stabbed into the rain-slimed moss, a breath from his face. Rear ng up. Noah bucked him aside, then rolled for the gun that lay on the ground. As he snatched it up. David fled into the trees.
    “I never thought of him.” With the side of his face scratched and oozing blood. Sam crawled over. His eyes were glassy from the pain rolling inside his head. “I should have known, because I never thought of him. A dozen other men, I thought of them. She would never have looked at them, that was my delusion, but I thought of them. Never him.”
    As he spoke, he fumbled to tie his handkerchief around the gash in Noah’s shoulder.
    “He should’ve just waited for me to die instead of trying to kill me.”
    Wincing against the pain, Noah gripped Sam’s shirtfront. “Not you. It’s Olivia he wants now.”
    “No.” Fear coated over the agony in his eyes. “No, not Livvy. We have to find him. Stop him.”
    There wasn’t time to debate. “He’s heading deeper in, but he may circle around, head toward the house.” Noah hesitated only a moment. “Take this.” He unsnapped Olivia’s sheath. “They’re looking for you by now. If my father comes across you with a gun—”
    “Frank’s here?”
    “That’s right. Melbourne won’t get far. You head toward the house. I’ll do what I can to pick up his trail.”
    “Don’t let him hurt Livvy.”
    Noah checked the gun and raced into the green.
    Olivia wanted to rush headlong into the trees, run blindly through the shadows, shout for Noah. It took every ounce of control to move slowly, to look for signs. Her turf, she reminded herself.
    But there’d been dozens of people in that edge of the forest, leaving crisscrossing prints. The ground was percolating with rain now, and she would lose even these prints if she didn’t choose soon. He’d come in at a sprint, she remembered, and judged the length between strides.
    Noah had long legs.
    So did her father.
    She headed due south and into the gloom.
    The rain was alive, murmuring as it forced its way through the tangle of vines and drapery overhead. The air was thick with it and the pervasive scent of rot. Small creatures scurried away, sly rustles in the dripping brush. And as the wind cooled the treetops, a thin fog skinned over the ground and smoked over her boots. She moved more quickly now, trying to outpace the fear. Every shadow was a terror, every shape a threat. Ferns, slick with rain, slithered around her legs as she hurried deeper into the forest and farther away from safety.
    She lost the trail, backtracked, could have wept with frustration. The quiet chuckle of panic began to dance in her chest. She focused on the forest floor, searching for a sign. And caught her breath with relief, with something almost like triumph, when she picked up the tracks again.
    Nerves skipped and skidded over her skin as she followed the trail of the man she loved. And of the man who’d shattered her life.
    When she heard the scream, fear plunged into her heart like a killing blade. She forgot logic, she forgot caution and she ran as though her life depended on it. Her feet slipped, sliding wild over the moldering ground. Fallen logs seemed to throw themselves into her path, forcing her to leap and stumble. Fungi, slimy with rain, burst wetly under her boots. She went down hard, tearing moss with the heels of her hands, sending shock waves stinging into her knees.
    She lunged to her feet, breathless, pushed herself off the rough bark of a hemlock and pushed blindly through vines that snaked out to snatch at her arms and legs. She beat and ripped at them, fought her way clear.
    Rain soaked her hair, dripped into her eyes. She blinked