Luck And a Prayer

“I’ll draw you a map.”

“I guess it would be too much to hope for that you’ll be heading my way?”

“Sorry, but we’re going north another five miles to the Kern River where a boat is waiting for us. If you like river rafting, you’re welcome to stay and join us.”

An invitation for Blondie? Surprise arched her brows. She allowed herself to imagine floating down a peaceful river, her fingertips skimming the water’s calm surface as she reclined against the side of the rubber raft. Hmm, sounded nice. And she wouldn’t mind spending another day with a handsome pastor who kept her heart thumping and her nerves jumping. She’d never met a man who made her feel so alive. She sighed. Yes, it might be doable.

“I could use another adult to help row,” he added before she could respond. “The person I had lined up got sick and bowed out.”

Her fantasy faltered. “Row?” He didn’t care about her. He just wanted another grown-up body. Too bad she could only manage ten minutes on the rowing machine at the gym. “Sorry,” she muttered. “It sounds fun, really, but I have to get back. Work, you know how it is.”

He nodded and, for a minute, she fancied she read disappointment in his expression, but that couldn’t be. He thought she was a prostitute. The pastor and the prostitute, she could read the headlines now. Wouldn’t that give the captain a coronary? She wrapped a thick layer of gauze around her feet and shoved them into her boots.

“I suppose it’s for the best. Your presence has upset Tracey.”

“Really? Why?”

“She recognized you from the strip.”

Willa had already guessed that, but why did the girl consider her a threat? Unless she didn’t want her secret spilled. “I’m not here to bring harm to Tracey, or anyone else.”

“Then why are you here?”

Willa bit her lip. “Like I said, just out for a hike. Imagine the odds of running into each other way out here?”

“Imagine,” he said dryly. He picked up a piece of paper and reached into his back pocket for the Pen Cam.

Oh, boy. Expectantly, she watched his brow crinkle into a frown before he dismissed the thought and went to his pack for another pen. “Tell Tracey she doesn’t have to worry about me,” she piped up. “And if she’s smart, she’ll stay away from Hollywood and Jack Paulson. I know you believe in evil, and honey, he’s as close to evil as I’ve ever seen.”

“Then maybe you should stay away from him, too.”

“That’s the plan.”

“Here.” He handed her a crude map that she couldn’t make heads or tails of.

“Thanks,” she said and hesitated, a little surprised by her reluctance to leave. Was it the trek down the mountain, or the thought of leaving him? “Maybe I’ll see you around back in L.A.?”

“Doubt it. Like I said, I don’t spend a lot of time on your side of town.”

“Right. Yeah, I suppose you wouldn’t. It was great to meet you, Jeff.” She offered her hand. Her smile faltered as the warmth of his touch trapped the breath in her throat. Yep, it was definitely the thought of leaving him. What a hunk. She turned and headed down the trail, refusing to glance over her shoulder for one last look.

She could do this, she told herself as the forest enveloped her. She had an excellent sense of direction. Everyone had always said so. She’d never once gotten lost in L.A., and with all those freeways that was quite an accomplishment. A few measly trails wouldn’t confuse her. All she had to do was keep heading downhill. She trotted for a minute, pretending it was her morning run, until a heavy tightness banded her chest. Must be the altitude.

Stopping to catch her breath, she dug into her pack for her compass and cell phone. She’d call Ben and let him know she had the evidence and would be home by dinner. She pushed the power button, then waited for the familiar writing to appear across the screen. No reception, nothing.

“Man,” she grumbled. “How do people function out here?” In disgust, she dropped the phone in her bag and studied her compass. Northwest. Great. What did that mean? Which direction had she left her car? At the bottom of the hill, dummy. She shoved the compass back in her pack and continued down the trail. All the trails had to lead to the same place, so if she just stayed on this one, she’d get there. Eventually.

After another twenty minutes, her feet began to sting. After forty, they were screaming for mercy. She found a big rock, sat on it, and pulled off her boots. “Eight miles,” she grumbled. Why hadn’t she just camped out at the bottom of the hill and waited for them to come down? Why was she always in such a hurry to get herself into these situations?