Read Wrong Number Online

Authors: Rachelle Christensen

Wrong Number (20 page)

BOOK: Wrong Number
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As she stepped back from the spring, she noticed a black camera bag sitting between two rocks. She picked it up, wondering if she should open the bag to try to discover who the owner was. Scarlett reached for the bag and cooed.

“Oh, you found it!” a voice behind her called.

Aubree jumped and spun around. “Oh!” The park ranger from earlier stood a few feet from her. “Is this yours?” She held out the camera bag, her heart racing.

“Yes. I didn’t realize I’d left it here until I was nearly back to camp.” He swung the camera over his shoulder. “Thanks. I didn’t mean to scare you. The springs are pretty loud, huh?”

“They’re beautiful,” Aubree said. She licked her lips and tried to ignore the hammering heartbeat accompanying her startled nerves. She was aware that if this man wasn’t really a park ranger, there would be no way to escape. Her apprehension must have been apparent on her face, because he cocked an eyebrow and smiled.

“I’m really sorry I startled you.” He held out a rough, calloused hand. “I’m Wyatt Erickson. What’s your name?”

Without thinking, she shook his hand and answered, “Aubree—” and then choked on her words.

Wyatt didn’t seem to notice. “And is your husband back at camp?”

“My husband passed away about a year ago,” Aubree stammered.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—” Wyatt blushed and shook his head.

“Don’t worry, it’s—it’s okay,” Aubree said.

“Hey, could I walk with you back to camp?”

Aubree’s throat constricted, but she found herself nodding. He hadn’t reacted strangely when he heard her name, and although her training with the FBI screamed caution, her senses were at ease.

They began walking up the path, but Aubree’s heart caught in her throat, and she stopped when she noticed a holster attached to his belt. “You have a gun?” She eyed the weapon hanging from his waist.

“I only carry it when I have to,” Wyatt answered. He reached out and touched her arm. “Take it easy. There are a few campgrounds that get a little wild sometimes when people start drinking, and I’m the closest law enforcement. I just did the rounds at one of those and forgot to put away my firearm.”

“But I didn’t know—” Aubree was still staring at the gun. “I thought . . .”

“That I was just a park ranger?” Wyatt gave her a relaxed smile. “Park rangers do a whole heck of a lot more than people think. I went through the criminal justice program at Northwestern University in Colorado.”

“Criminal justice?” Aubree raised her eyebrows. “I thought you guys just gave people tickets and cut firewood.”

Wyatt laughed so hard he actually bent over and slapped his knee. “We do a lot more than most people would expect.” He straightened up, and they resumed the hike back to the campground.

“Well, that’s good, but criminal justice? I had no idea.” Aubree shifted Scarlett onto her other hip.

“Can I carry her for you?” He extended his arms.

Aubree hesitated and looked at Scarlett. Could she trust this man? What if this was some kind of trap?

“Don’t worry. All rangers are trained in first aid, and I’m actually an EMT.”

“Really? I guess you can then.” Aubree held her daughter toward him, and Scarlett surprised her by reaching for Wyatt. “So you’re an EMT, too?” For some reason, Aubree believed him, and she didn’t feel like she was in danger.

“Yeah, I help with search and rescue in the area, and I help with forest fires—if anyone gets hurt.”

“How long did it take you to learn everything?”

Wyatt chuckled. “My mom tells me I could’ve been a doctor by now with all my schooling and training. It’s taken me quite a while. I started
going to school eight years ago, but I took a year off to build houses in Mexico.” He shuffled one foot in the dirt. “I have a master’s degree from Utah State. Then I did my EMT certification, law enforcement training, and a minor in photography.” He grinned at her sheepishly.

Aubree gulped. She wondered if she should reveal more about herself or not. Wyatt had just told her all about himself and seemed expectant.

“I love photography. That was my major when I started college. I didn’t finish though . . .” She trailed off.

“Photography is almost like an inborn talent. I bet you’re still great. What’s your favorite subject?”

“Well, I used to say landscapes, but ever since Scarlett was born I think it’s been her.”

Wyatt laughed. “I can see why. She’s as pretty as her mother.”

Aubree felt her cheeks burning, and her mind reeled as she tried to think of what to say. “I’ve been to Mexico. I helped on one of those humanitarian housing projects right after my freshman year of college.” She didn’t think it was possible for his smile to get any wider, but he proved her wrong.

“Awesome! We have something in common already.”

Aubree couldn’t help smiling back because even Wyatt’s eyes seemed to be smiling now. “Guess so, but I didn’t finish college.” She looked down and kicked at a rock lodged in the dirt.

“Well, sometimes life throws us more curve balls than we expect.”

She looked at him and bit her lip. She didn’t know why her heart was hammering. She tried to think of what to say next, but she couldn’t concentrate on anything but his hazel eyes.

“Ahh, Mexico.” He said it with a strong accent. “Lots of sun and wonderful people there.”

“I’ve only been the one time. But it was fun, I mean,
que divertido
.” Aubree turned toward the cool breeze blowing off the mountain, hoping it would hide the redness of her cheeks.

“Oh,
hables Español
?”

“No, no.
Un poquito
.”

Wyatt rattled off something in Spanish so fast that Aubree held up her hand. “No. I only know a little.”

Wyatt shrugged. “Maybe I’ll have to teach you some more.”

“Well, here we are.” She pointed at her campsite and reached for Scarlett. “I’d better go in and get her fed.”

“Thanks for finding my camera bag and letting me carry this cute little lug,” Wyatt said.

“My pleasure. Thanks for giving my arms a break.” She stepped closer to her trailer.

“I’ll be around if you need anything,” Wyatt said.

“Um, thanks.” Aubree walked back into her trailer and scolded herself for feeling so giddy. She looked in the mirror on the closet and saw that her face was flushed. She smiled in spite of herself. She couldn’t help but notice the way Wyatt’s eyes had fallen when she said they had to go. But she knew he was just overeager for conversation. It was his job to be friendly and help campers feel like coming again, right?

Leaning over the bed, she watched Scarlett play. She was so beautiful and healthy. The fat rolls extended all the way to her wrists, which were nonexistent, and her tiny hands were always reaching for something.

Aubree slumped down into the cushions surrounding the table. Maybe Wyatt wasn’t just a park ranger. Her throat suddenly felt dry. What if they had found her? But Wyatt was too friendly—or was he trying to find out what she knew?

She had to keep Scarlett safe, no matter what. She couldn’t let anything or anyone distract her. Leaning her head down to rest in her arms, she took a deep breath. This wasn’t how she’d imagined her life, but she wasn’t going to feel sorry for herself either. She would take advantage of this time to figure things out and somehow get her life back to normal.

With determination for a better life echoing through her mind, she raised her head and looked out the window beyond her campsite. Wyatt walked by at the same moment and glanced into her trailer window with a smile. He lifted a hand in a small wave, and Aubree did the same. Then she leaned her head back against the wood paneling and tried to calm her racing heart.

E
IGHTEEN

A
UBREE DIDN

T DRIFT OFF
to sleep until it was nearly midnight. Her brain buzzed with thoughts of Tidmore, Jason, and the people chasing her. She had a halfhearted notion that she could stay hidden in these mountains forever and not be found. She pulled closer to Scarlett and listened to her rhythmic breathing. If only there were a way to put an end to all the chaos and danger pursuing her.

By morning, Aubree’s thoughts had turned to the day she’d left Omaha nearly two weeks before. She sat at the tiny kitchen table and held a mug of steaming hot cocoa in her hands. The television screen with Governor Brent Ferrin flashed through her mind, and she kept hearing that familiar voice and getting cold chills. The memories flitted through her mind, and she tried to grasp the idea that had come to her. Maybe her memory of the conversation really did hold the key to unlocking the mystery. She wished there were some way to escape the nameless, faceless voice that had uprooted her life. There was something in the back of her mind. It felt like having a word on the tip of her tongue, but instead it was some piece of information locked in her memory—if she could just retrieve it, Aubree felt it would fit into the puzzle of the crime.

Scarlett began to fuss and roll around on the bed, and Aubree smiled, glad for the diversion. “It’s good I have you to worry about, or I might go crazy.” She kissed Scarlett’s soft cheeks and held her close. “Let’s get you some breakfast, and then we’ll go for a walk.”

Scarlett was a good eater, and while Aubree fed her, she mentally took inventory of her food storage. In about ten days, she’d have to leave the
campground for more food and supplies. Her stomach tightened with dread at the prospect of leaving her safe haven. Then it tightened again as she looked down a road with no future. As long as her enemies were after her, they held her future hostage.

Aubree hurried to dress Scarlett and walked out into the sunshine, leaving her worries behind for a moment. She’d fallen into a bit of a routine, which included a walk each morning before Scarlett’s first nap. They had made it halfway around the circle of campsites when she heard footsteps behind her. She glanced over her shoulder, and her heart lurched when she recognized Wyatt in his park ranger uniform.

“Good morning, Aubree.” He quickened his pace to close the last few steps between them. “Are you out for a stroll?”

“Every day. This campground is really beautiful,” Aubree said, and she mentally scolded herself for the butterflies in her stomach.

“It is. It’s kind of an out-of-the-way place—makes me wonder why people decide to come here when the beaches of Bear Lake are beckoning from only twenty miles out.” He stared at her for a moment, and Aubree wondered again if she should trust him.

“Hmm, that’s probably why,” she replied. “Bear Lake is pretty busy— lots of tourists.” She continued walking.

“And it gets busier every year, it seems.” He walked casually alongside her. “But we stay pretty busy here, too, for such a small place.” He stooped to pick up a piece of trash, and Aubree could see the dark tan across the back of his neck.

“Are you outside all day?”

“Pretty much.” Wyatt grinned. “I love it. How about you? Do you camp here often?”

“Uh, it’s been a long time since I’ve been camping.” Aubree’s palms felt hot. She hadn’t anticipated answering so many questions. “I decided to bring Scarlett and take a break from everything. It’s been a stressful year.”

Wyatt paused, seeming to take in the full meaning of her statement. “It must be hard losing your husband. I’m glad God created mountains so we could get away from everything.”

Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes, and Aubree bent over, pretending to check something on Scarlett’s stroller.

“I know it’s not the same, but I lost a little brother last year.” Wyatt tugged on a curl near the nape of his neck. “He was killed by a drunk
driver on his way up Logan Canyon.” The hollow spot on his throat tensed, and he frowned. “I still think about him every day and wonder how things could be different.”

Aubree wiped her hand across her eyes and pushed the stroller forward. “There’ve been a few days when I haven’t thought about my husband, and I’ve felt guilty for that, but I know he wouldn’t want me to.”

“Yeah, the guilt almost drove me over the edge at first,” Wyatt said softly.

“Guilt? But why?” Aubree looked at him carefully.

“Carson was coming to see me.” Wyatt kicked at a rock lodged in the dirt road. “If I hadn’t been here, he would still be alive.”

“But it’s my fault too—that my husband was killed. All because of a wrong number.”

Wyatt’s head snapped up, and Aubree gripped the curved handles of the umbrella stroller with white knuckles. “I mean—”

“No, you don’t have to explain. I’m sorry. I always ask too many questions.”

Aubree swallowed. “It’s okay. It’s just hard to talk about.”

He nodded. “But I hope you can stop blaming yourself.” Wyatt’s eyes softened, and he frowned. “I couldn’t at first, and then I had a dream. Carson told me it was okay, and he told me he was happy. He—” Wyatt swallowed and gave Aubree a crooked smile. “I haven’t told anyone outside my family about this, but Carson—he told me he loved me and that I should open my heart to the future.”

A tear trickled down Aubree’s cheek. “That’s beautiful. I wish I could find the same peace.”

“I hope you can too. I hope the sadness doesn’t haunt you.”

BOOK: Wrong Number
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