The Target Read online

  “Detective, in all likelihood, any assailants that may be targeting Ms. Michaels won’t be able to accomplish anything while she’s in the mountains. This is simply precautionary. Most likely, you’ll make the trip without any problems.”

  Jaime stared at him. “You guys are unbelievable.”

  Ramsey lowered his eyes. “The best thing she’s got going for her is that she rarely takes the same route twice. In fact, the planned route is kept a secret. As far as anyone knows, her destination is up in the air. Any professional hit man would be able to take her out while she’s going about her daily activities, if that was his desire. I doubt seriously anyone would go to this much trouble to track her into the mountains.”

  “So, this is just precautionary?”

  “Exactly.”

  Jaime walked to the door then stopped. “There’s just one thing. If she winds up dead, I’m not like . . . going to get a demotion or anything, right?”

  “Of course not, Hutchinson. You’re on loan to the FBI. This case has no bearing on your record here.”

  “Well, thanks, Captain. That makes me feel so much better.”

  Ramsey exited the police station and flipped open his cell phone while jogging down the steps. At the bottom, he paused, waiting.

  “She’s a go.”

  “She bought it?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good, Ramsey. Good job. I’ll notify him.”

  Ramsey nodded and closed his phone, slowing his pace to the black sedan parked along the street.

  Chapter Five

  “Sara?”

  Sara looked up, smiling wearily at her secretary. “Yes?”

  “It’s almost six.”

  “Six? Then what are you still doing here?”

  “I wanted to get all the notices out, reminding everyone that you’d be gone.”

  “Good. Now go home.”

  But instead, Tracy walked into the office, plopping down in the visitor’s chair. “If I go home, there’ll be no one here to remind you to go home and you’ll end up staying until midnight.”

  Sara sighed. “There’s just so much to do.”

  “And it’ll be here when you get back. Just like always.” Tracy stretched out her feet. “What’s wrong? Is it the FBI thing?”

  Sara put down her pen and ran both hands through her hair, finally resting her elbows on her desk and meeting her secretary’s eyes.

  “I . . . I don’t know what’s wrong. I feel restless.” She waved her hand. “And the FBI thing, no. If my father has had a death threat, it doesn’t involve me. We’ve not spoken in years.”

  “What about your mother?”

  “I spoke with her a few weeks ago. I did try calling her yesterday but she’s not returned my call.”

  “Well, you look really tired. More tired than I can remember.”

  “That goes without saying. I’ve been averaging about four hours a night of sleep for the last couple of weeks.” Sara relaxed, pushing her chair back far enough to rest her feet on her desk. Her once pressed slacks were wrinkled and her feet were bare, having shed her shoes an hour earlier.

  “Then this trip is coming at a good time, right?”

  “I suppose.”

  “Are you worried about it? I know you said Sandra may have a hard time.”

  “I think she’ll be okay. She’s really excited about it. No, I’m not really worried. And if things go bad and she can’t make it, we can always turn around and head back down. There are always options.”

  “Well then what’s wrong?”

  Sara smiled. Tracy had been with her since she’d opened her business and probably knew her better than anyone. And in the last year, Tracy had become one of her closest confidants.

  “I’m just in a rut, I guess,” Sara finally admitted with a heavy sigh. “I’m tired. I feel like I’ve lost my spark. I spend so much time here—”

  “Ah. No personal life.”

  “No personal life, no nothing. I’ve put so much effort into this business, time just got away. I feel like I’m on a merry-go-round sometimes.”

  “Well, then maybe it’s time you slowed down. I mean, you’ve got a two-year waiting list for your classes. You’ve hired three counselors to help. Book sales and videos are through the roof.” Tracy grinned. “And you’ve been on Oprah, for God’s sake!”

  “That doesn’t mean things are going to change. The women I get introduced to simply bore me to tears.”

  “Maybe you just need to stop allowing yourself to get set up with these women who everyone thinks would be perfect for you. I mean, just because your father is a senator, why do they always insist on setting you up with someone who has political aspirations?”

  “Because they think we would have that in common.”

  “Well, you hate politics. If they don’t realize that by now, then your friends don’t know you very well.” Tracy leaned forward. “I wish you could just meet someone that’s more like you. You have so many outdoor interests. You jog, you work out. You love to hike. Why don’t you ever date anyone like that?”

  “Have you seen some of the women at the gym? They scare me. Besides, it’s not like I have time. Maybe in a year or so.” Sara swung her legs to the floor and shoved her chair closer to her desk, waving her hand dismissively. “This will pass, Tracy. It always does.”

  “Sure. It always does.” Tracy stood. “How long are you planning on staying tonight?”

  “I’ve got a few letters I need to write. I’ll e-mail them to you. I’ll also work up our itinerary and e-mail that to you as well.”

  “Okay. Leave anything else you need and I’ll do it. I mean, I’ll have two weeks.” She walked around the desk. “Now, give me a hug.”

  Sara complied then went to work on the stack of papers that littered her desk. She really was tired, but there was little time to relax. She’d not yet packed and they were leaving for Buena Vista tomorrow.

  Chapter Six

  “Senator Michaels? A moment of your time, please?”

  Peter Michaels smiled one last time and waved to the crowd, then turned to a member of his entourage. “Who is he?”

  “FBI.”

  He straightened his tie then offered his hand to the stranger. “What can I do for you?”

  “I’m Special Agent Erickson, Senator. I’m involved with the task force that’s looking into the threats, sir.”

  “I see. And what have you found out?”

  “Unfortunately, not much. Your daughter has refused protection so that’s made it a little difficult. We’re going to, of course, try to persuade her. But I wanted to discuss your wife’s planned fundraising dinner tomorrow night. It’s at a public hotel. I’m wondering if perhaps we might change venues. Your home, for instance? It would be much easier to monitor the guests that way.”

  Senator Michaels gave his best political smile and shook his head. “Special Agent Erickson, I assure you, we won’t be intimidated. My wife feels the same way. Do what you must, but we won’t change our plans.”

  “Of course,” he said politely. “Could we then at least have the list of guests? We’ll need to do background checks.”

  “Certainly. Get with Daniel. He’ll get you anything you need.”

  “Thank you, Senator.”

  Peter Michaels watched him walk away and motioned for his campaign manager.

  “Arthur, call Mr. Dodds, please. I need to have a word with him.”

  Chapter Seven

  Sara stood at the trailhead and surveyed her surroundings, deeply inhaling the sweet air of the mountains. She was thirty minutes early but that was okay. It would give her some alone time, time she doubted she would have for the next two weeks. They had all met for dinner last night at a small restaurant in Buena Vista and the women were very excited about their upcoming trip to the backcountry. Sara was excited too. It was her first trip to the Collegiate Peaks. From what she’d heard, the trails were moderate, except where they ventured up to capture the fourteeners— mountai
n peaks above fourteen thousand feet—trails that Sara would not venture with this group. They would climb up to Cottonwood Pass then hike south along the Collegiate Peaks toward Monarch Pass. They should have plenty of time to explore the old mining town of St. Elmo along the way and perhaps some hot springs, if they were lucky. It would be a good trip, one she’d been planning since last spring. She’d almost taken this route during the summer but had instead taken the Colorado Trail to the north, ending up in Rocky Mountain National Park and spending a week exploring there. It had been a pleasant trip, not strenuous at all and they had made it back to Denver without mishap.

  It was an easy trip. Maybe she should have taken that trail again. No doubt Sandra could have managed the hike without problems. But this? Who knew? They could stick to moderate trails but then again, moderate was damn close to difficult. She shook her head. If they ended up going slower because of Sandra, so be it. But she would not push. And if it took them a few days longer, all the better. Who was she to complain about a few more days in the mountains?

  That sense of unease returned and she tried to shake it off. She normally trusted her intuition but she couldn’t simply call off this trip because something was nagging at her. Resting her backpack against a boulder, she walked off into the woods, listening to the birds that called. She glanced into the trees, trying to spot one of the mountain chickadees that were darting between the two pines. She shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans and absently kicked at a rock with her boot, wondering at the apprehension she felt. Surely, once they were out on the trail, the peacefulness she normally felt would settle in. Surely. If not—

  “It’ll be a hell of a long trip,” she murmured.

  She was pulled from her thoughts by the sounds of vans approaching and she walked back to the trail, waiting. Soon, familiar voices filled the air and she smiled. They were so looking forward to this trip. Even Sandra. Ten long weeks. They had hashed over their lives until each of them knew the others’ stories by heart. But they were done. Now, two weeks of solitude, away from family and friends, TV and radio. Two weeks to absorb nature at its best. And two weeks of not talking about their past lives. As she’d told them yesterday, they were done with it. It was in the past and it was time to embark on a new life. They would leave these mountains new women with new confidences, unafraid to face their futures. The New You.

  “Ms. Michaels? Sara?”

  “Over here,” she called. She walked to her backpack and waited. Soon, all ten women appeared, each carrying nearly identical backpacks. The anticipation on their faces practically made her laugh. She wondered if any of them knew how much they’d changed in ten short weeks. Self-confidence showed on almost every face. The eagerness with which they approached the last two weeks of their group sessions was reward enough for Sara, but looking at them now, all standing tall and proud, ready to face the world—and this two-week trek up the mountain—made all those long nights and weeks worthwhile.

  Abby was the first in line, as usual. A young mother, she had suffered constantly at the hands of her abusive husband, only escaping when he had finally put both her and her two-year-old in the hospital. She had been beaten but her spirit did not break. Next to her stood Lou Ann, an attractive grad student in her thirties who had been on the verge of alcoholism when she’d joined the program. Then Megan and Ashley, the youngest two of the group, both slightly overweight and lonely—they’d blossomed the most. Their energy inspired most of the others during the hardest sessions. Behind them stood the others, all looking at Sara with expectant faces. The biggest smile came from Sandra, standing at her usual spot at the back of the line.

  “What are we waiting for, Sarge?” Sandra asked. “Daylight’s wasting. Let’s start this trek you’ve been talking about.”

  Sara laughed. “You’re right. Okay, everyone filled up water bottles, yes?”

  “Yes,” they answered.

  “And we’ve got meals to last a month?”

  “Yes.”

  “Nobody forgot a sleeping bag?”

  “No.”

  “Okay then. I checked with the weather service this morning. You’ll be happy to know that there is no chance of an early season snowstorm, so we won’t have that to worry about.”

  “Then let’s hit the trail!”

  Sara laughed, her earlier unease fading at the exuberance of the ten women around her. She grabbed her backpack and slipped it over her shoulders, starting out on the trail at an even pace, listening to the chatter behind her with a satisfied smile. This moment made all the hard work worthwhile. They’d cried more times than she could count but over the last few weeks the tears had turned to smiles. They all knew the significance of this trip. It was a new beginning for each of them. And hopefully, they would each emerge back into the world as more confident women, not focusing on the past, but looking forward to the future.

  Chapter Eight

  Jaime tightened the straps on her backpack then checked the trail map one more time. She’d been to the Collegiate Peaks before, many times in fact, but had never been on this trail. She’d always started near Cottonwood Pass, not the trails near Buena Vista. But hell, none of that would matter if Michaels had decided on a different route at the last minute.

  “No. She wouldn’t do that.”

  Not planning a trip for ten women, you don’t change plans at the last minute. And Andy at the downtown sporting goods store, not far from Sara Michaels’s office, had talked nonstop about how he caters to The New You clinic. In fact, he’s been supplying new backpacks to them since the beginning. And yeah, Sara Michaels may have mentioned the Collegiate Peaks a time or two in the last week. That and she’d purchased a new topo map for the area. Yes, good old Andy could put two and two together. He’d even suggested which trail they might start out on. But Jaime had done her own research for that. The New You clinic had rented two vans with drivers. Destination, Buena Vista.

  Jaime shook her head. The more she thought about it, the more convinced she was that no one in his right mind would hike into the backcountry to assassinate the daughter of a senator. Especially if they couldn’t be assured of which trail to take. And of course there would be ten potential witnesses. As Special Agent Ramsey had said, it’d be much simpler to just whack her as she left her office one day.

  “Then what the hell am I doing here?” she murmured. Then she smiled. “Oh yeah. Vacation.”

  She shoved the trail map into her back pocket and walked down the hill to wait. If her guess was right, they’d be upon her within the hour. Then, it was just a matter of her joining their group. At the stream, she took off her backpack and leaned against a rock. It was warm and she shed the flannel shirt she’d worn over her T-shirt that morning. Folding it neatly, she tucked it into her pack then took off one boot. A sprained ankle was as good an excuse as any. She pulled out an Ace bandage and wrapped it around her ankle and waited.

  And waited. And waited. Jesus, how long could it take them? She frowned. What if her guess was wrong? What if they hadn’t taken this trail at all?

  She picked up a rock and tossed it into the stream, wondering how long she should wait for them. It was quiet and peaceful. Normally, she would relish this time. Usually twice each summer she escaped for an extended trip, saving her vacation time during the year to allow at least a weeklong trip each time. She normally went alone, only occasionally joining others. But she always enjoyed her solitary trips the most. And truthfully, she’d never been out two weeks straight. She’d done a ten-day hike once between Aspen and Crested Butte and had thoroughly enjoyed the time alone but had welcomed the company when she’d reached the old mining town of Crested Butte. She’d spent two whole days in the bar, she recalled, with a redhead named Gretta.

  Finally, nearly an hour and a half later, she heard voices. Female voices. She shifted her position, sticking out her supposedly injured leg and waited. She felt like an idiot and she very nearly started laughing. Why would she assume Michaels would stop for her and e
ven then, ask her to join their group? She couldn’t very well tag along uninvited.

  Could she?

  Sara saw the woman sitting by the rock and slowed her steps. Of course, it was not uncommon to come upon other hikers but still, she was wary.

  “She looks like she’s hurt,” Abby said.

  “Uh-huh,” Sara murmured.

  “Can we rest?” Sandra called from the back.

  Sara smiled. They’d only been on the trail a little more than an hour and most of that had been level, only rising slightly in the last fifteen minutes.

  The woman raised her hand in greeting and Sara did the same, stopping a few feet away.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Oh, just twisted my ankle a bit. Nothing too serious.”

  Sara took off her pack and the others did the same. She squatted down beside the woman.

  “I can take a look if you want.”

  “Thanks but I’ve wrapped it. It should be okay.”

  Sara surveyed the woman, noting worn jeans and scuffed hiking boots. Her light brown hair was cut short and brushed away from her face, a face that was marred only by a smattering of freckles on each cheek. Sara glanced at the woman’s pack, noticing that it had seen a trip or two and she relaxed. This woman obviously meant them no harm. She offered her hand.

  “I’m Sara.” Her hand was captured in a warm grip and she squeezed back.

  “Jaime. Nice to meet you.”

  The woman’s eyes were dark but friendly. “Where you headed?”

  Jaime smiled. It was just too easy. “Taking the trail along the Collegiate Peaks. Just starting out, actually.” She raised her foot. “This might set me back a day or so.”

  “We’re heading the same way,” Abby said. She knelt down beside Sara. “Are you alone?”

  “Yeah. I enjoy the solitude. Gives you time to think.”

  “I can’t imagine coming out here all alone.”