Chapter 6 - Whispers in the Dark
The second man never made it to the hemlock. Seeing his partner’s light go stationary and receiving no voice response, he retreated toward the road, realizing the situation on the ground had turned volatile.
Cole returned to Nora. She was trembling uncontrollably now, her lips pale blue, her pupils slightly dilated from cold and shock.
"We have to get you out of these wet clothes and into dry shelter," Cole said, pulling the litter forward. "Your body temperature is dropping below critical."
"The second man... did you kill him?" she asked, her voice barely a breath against the wind.
"No. He ran back up to report. Which means Marcus now knows you aren't alone down here. He knows someone intervened."
"He’ll claim you kidnapped me," Nora whispered, her mind racing despite the hypothermia. "Don't you see? If he tells the sheriff that a stranger took me from the crash site, they’ll bring the entire county down on you. They’ll shoot you on sight."
"Let them try," Cole said calmly.
He lifted the litter again. The terrain was rising toward the western shoulder of the ridge, away from the county search perimeter. Cole knew these woods better than the local deputies; he had mapped every square mile of this forest during his post-deployment decompression walks.
Three miles west sat an abandoned logging cabin—built in the 1940s, long off the forestry maps, but still structurally sound. It had a wood stove, dry firewood stacked under the eaves, and an old hand-pump well.
"Talk to me, Nora," Cole commanded as he marched through the driving rain. "Keep your brain active. Tell me about the audit."
"Marcus... Marcus forged my signature on a power of attorney," she murmured, struggling against the fog of hypothermia. "He took out a five-million-dollar life insurance policy on me six months ago. The policy has a double-indemnity clause for accidental death. If I fall off a cliff... he gets ten million tax-free, plus the logistics trust."
"Did your brother know?"
Nora stiffened beneath the foil blanket. "How do you know about my brother?"
"I saw the framed photo in the leather pouch around your neck when I splinted your arm," Cole said, his voice level. "Dress blues. Marine Corps infantry. Afghanistan campaign ribbon."
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Tears cut clean tracks through the grime on Nora’s face. "Julian. He died eight months ago. An apparent overdose in a motel room. Julian never touched drugs in his life. He hated Marcus. He was the one who told me to check the books." She looked up at Cole, her eyes burning with a sudden, fierce agony. "Marcus killed him. I know he did. He killed my brother, and I was too blind, too broken in this chair to see the snake living under my roof."
"You see it now," Cole said, stepping onto a deer trail that led up the western rise. "And we’re going to make sure he pays for both of you."
