Mountain of Lies

Chapter 5

The shot echoing up the mountain had Mia running at full speed before her brain had fully interpreted the sound. She was slaloming through a copse of trees when it dawned on her that running away from the sound of the shot would be a wiser plan than moving toward it, but Neville was ahead of her and she couldn't risk her voice carrying if she called out. She slowed her pace slightly and kept half her attention on the dog so she could give him a hand signal to stop when he turned to check in with her.

Ten minutes later, they were tucked under the drooping boughs of a large pine to shelter from a sudden deluge when Neville went on alert. He lifted his muzzle, and Mia tested the air herself. She could smell only the sharp scent of pine and a hint of rich, loamy earth. Neville's tail started to wag and without thinking, she grabbed it and tucked it under her arm. She motioned Nev to a down stay and held her breath.

Heavy treads moved toward her and happy anticipation quivered through the dog's muscles. There was no doubt it was Hudson, but she kept silent until he was well past their little hidey-hole. What was she doing? Was she really going to hike back down to her truck and take off without him? He might be a cop and her worst possible ally, but she knew with a bone-deep certainty that his actions back at the house were the only reason Dipshit and Sidekick hadn't killed her and dumped her body.

She let her forehead rest on her knees. She knew what they'd found when they had their contact search the police system for Raina Meadows. And despite her vehement independence over the past few years, there was maybe a tiny little part of her that thought if she was able to help Hudson find the drug shipment and close his case, he might help her put Raina Meadows to rest once and for all. But there was still a part of her—the bigger part of her—that wanted to run and never look back.

Neville wiggled free of her restraining arm and bolted. Her mouth dropped open. He had never disobeyed her before. Not since his rambunctious puppy days, anyway. She pressed her lips together and swiped the soaked hair back off her face before crawling forward into the nearly solid sheet of rain. He must have read her indecision about Hudson, lie detector that he was. The dog was less than twenty feet away, with his front paws resting on Hudson's shoulders and his eyes closed in bliss as the man rubbed his ears.

"Decided to stick with me then?" The thick French accent was gone, but there was no sign of the heavy charm he usually wore in exchange.

She blinked at him. "I can't imagine you'd really think I wouldn't." It was second nature to her now. Redirecting, clouding the issue, going on the offensive instead of accepting an attack. Never failed.

Except this time.

He laughed. She blinked again and he laughed some more. Neville dropped to four paws and wagged happily alongside the cop as he approached her. She refused to give ground, and when he took her arm and tried to turn her back toward the shelter of the tree, she stepped away and tightened the straps of her pack.

"We need to get going. Less than twenty hours left, remember?" Her forward movement was stopped mid-step when he pulled up on her pack from behind. He gave the bag a swift downward yank, and then she was stumbling forward, off kilter from the lack of ballast.

He loosened the straps and swung the gear over his own shoulders, then jerked his chin at the slope before them. "So walk. We can talk on the way, Raina Meadows."

#

He'd given her the benefit of the doubt earlier, but Hudson knew when he was being played. He'd just never met anyone who was quite so good at it. The branch in the face was a classic and he should have seen it coming a mile away. And would have, if he hadn't been quite so distracted by her rear view. But he was impressed by the limping dog bit. Sure, she'd taught Neville to work a door handle, but how had she managed to train him to fake an injury?