“A rigging of some kind.”
She shook her head as the constant thudding of rain against her jacket had her talking louder. “I don’t even know what that means.”
“A platform and a gun set-up to fire either at specific times or via remote.” Cam spared her a quick look before he went back to checking out the area around them. “A human might not be pulling the trigger now, but a human built the rigging.”
“So we’re back to everyone being a suspect.” She didn’t know if that was good or bad. With the businessmen as suspects she at least knew something about her potential attacker.
A rogue sniper terrified her. That suggested someone with skill and put Joel and Cam at greater risk because she knew they would shield the rest of them with their bodies if it came to that. The thought of watching Joel go down almost drove her to her knees.
“Move.” A loud whoosh followed the warning. Joel shouted as he dropped out of the branches and landed with a slight bend of his knees as if he’d been practicing the move his entire life.
She heard a thud and saw the binoculars land in the mud. Adrenaline pumped through her as she spun around, looking for the danger that had set him off.
The forest blurred in front of her. Joel grabbed Cam’s shoulder and turned him toward the cabins while Joel shoved her behind him and brought up his gun. The men took up positions behind two trunks and faced in the same direction, this time toward camp.
Despite the dizzying few seconds, she stayed locked behind Joel with her fingers slipped through his belt loop.
“Hands up,” Joel yelled in the direction off to the side of the far cabin.
She peeked around his shoulder and saw trees and branches and sheets of water. Nothing moved and no sound came. She was about to ask what was happening when a smaller tree bent. The wind didn’t take this one. A shadow moved.
“Come out or we fire.” Joel pushed her deeper behind the tree as he motioned for Cam to take the far side. “You have three seconds.”
She shifted and looked out from the other side of the tree. Then she saw it. The shadow, clearly a large figure, stumbled. “Joel, I think—”
“One...”
“An animal maybe?” Cam asked.
“Two.”
Without a sound, the figure dropped. A man’s torso fell into the clearing with the rest left behind in the woods. Arms outstretched and a familiar green polo shirt. The rain pounded his face, which was turned toward them.
She started to rush out, but Joel caught her arm. “Wait.”
Cam’s shoulders fell as he lowered the weapon. “What the—”
But she knew exactly who it was. “It’s Perry.”
Chapter Nine
They’d informally shared her town house and slept together more times than he could count, but when he stepped into Hope’s confining cabin that night he still felt about three sizes too big. “At least it smells better in here than it did ten minutes ago.”
She glanced over at him and smiled. “Who knew a candle could help that much?”
The men had cleared out, with Charlie taking the cabin on one side of hers and dragging Lance and Jeff along with him. Cam was looking after their newest patient, Perry, next door while keeping the first watch on the camp.
The man hadn’t roused long enough to answer even one question. The nasty gash on the back of his head suggested a fall or a hit. Joel was betting on the latter.
They had gotten it bandaged, and Cam had agreed to wake him up in a few hours for a concussion check. Other than that, all they knew was Perry had the same clothes on when he stumbled back into camp that he had worn the night of Mark’s fight with Hope.
Every time Joel started to think they’d all walked into some big work argument between Perry and Mark, the reality of that gun rigging would strike. Joel just couldn’t see either man having the skills for that, never mind the equipment. Hope said she had done a bag check...of course, Mark got a gun through, so maybe it wasn’t impossible.
Joel took one last sweeping look out the door, then shut it behind him. The rain still fell, but the wind no longer whipped through the trees. He toyed with the idea of loading everyone up and heading for the helicopter, but the darkness and memory of the uneven ground stopped him. Last thing they needed was another injury.
“Still nothing from Perry?” She wadded the old sheet and blanket into a ball and threw them on the floor.
“He’s out cold.” Trying hard not to think of the bed and her in it, and failing miserably, Joel walked to the farthest point from her.
He should help her strip and remake the bed after they’d laid Perry out there. His clothes had been caked with mud and his shirt soaked with blood. But that side of the room spelled trouble. Even with the danger spinning around them, Joel wanted her and his self-control was going down for the count.