A northerly path from where they’d parked at the entrance would take Lance and Sharp through the center of the property. Lance checked his compass and angled slightly to the west to intersect with the shoreline of the lake. A flank approach would be preferable to a direct line.

Pine needles were quiet underfoot. The underbrush thinned, and they increased their speed. An organic, mossy smell hit Lance’s nostrils.

The lake must be ahead.

He turned to signal Sharp. A loud snap sounded, and Sharp went down.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Pain shot up Sharp’s leg. He’d hit the ground sideways. His hip landed on a rock.

Lance doubled back and spoke in a low voice. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. I tripped on something.” Sharp jerked his foot, but he couldn’t budge it. “My boot is caught.”

“Maybe a tree root.” Lance knelt down and brushed pine needles aside. “Not a tree root. An animal trap.”

Sharp sat up. Moonlight caught the black metal of the spring-loaded leghold trap. His belly churned at the sight.

“You’re lucky. You stepped on the edge and the jaws caught the heel of your boot.”

If he had hit the center of the device, it could have broken his leg. “Can you open it?”

“If I can’t, you’ll have to take off your boot.” Lance squeezed the levers on both sides of the trap with his hands, but the springs wouldn’t give. “Stand up so I can use my body weight.” He extended a hand and helped Sharp get vertical.

Sharp balanced on one foot. Lance placed a boot on each side of the trap. He pressed down on both levers simultaneously. The jaws opened, and Sharp pulled his foot free.

Sharp tested his foot on the ground. Other than a slight pang in his ankle from the twist, he seemed uninjured. “I’m good.”

“I thought I heard something in that direction.” Lance pointed to the northeast.

“Let’s go.” Sharp left the trap closed, so it couldn’t hurt anyone else.

Guilty or not, Stephen Holgersen was a nutter.

They moved onto the trail and headed in the direction Lance had pointed. Sharp surged forward. But Lance held him back. “We won’t find anything if one of us breaks a leg in a trap.”

He went back to using the stick and paracord to check for trip wires. They crept a hundred yards farther down the trail, and Lance stopped. He tapped Sharp on the shoulder and pointed to the ground. The paracord leaned against a fishing line trip wire.

“Damn. This guy is paranoid,” Sharp said under his breath. “But we have to move faster.”

“I know,” Lance whispered. He followed the trip wire to a loop of wire on the ground hidden beneath a layer of sand. “A leg snare.”

“I’m sorry I gave you shit about the cost of those NVGs.” Sharp circled around the trap and they continued their trek toward the lake. Frustration gripped him. How were they going to find Olivia in a hundred acres of booby-trapped wilderness?

The sound of water lapping caught his attention. They were nearing the lake. Ahead, the trail opened onto the water. Sharp could see the rocky shore and moonlit ripples across the lake’s surface.

A squeak stopped them both short. They moved to the side of the trail and crept to the last clump of underbrush before the beach. Ducking behind it, they peered over the top of the foliage. A dock extended out over the water. Next to the beginning of the dock, a man stood in the open doorway of a shed.

His voice floated over the rocks. “Olivia, if you come out now, I promise to kill you quick. It won’t hurt.”

She’s alive?

Hope surged in Sharp, followed by rage. The man had just promised to kill Olivia. Sharp wanted to strangle him with his bare hands. Was she in that shed? There was only one way to find out. Simultaneously energized and furious, Sharp pressed forward.

Lance grabbed his arm and held him back. He made a motion toward the other side of the shed and pointed to his own chest. Sharp breathed through his urge to run headfirst at the man on the beach. To pound on him and make him say where Olivia was. But Lance was right. They should flank the man, otherwise he might escape. He could have weapons.

“Count to fifty,” Lance whispered before he raced along the tree line to the right.

Sharp said a quick prayer that neither of them hit another trap. Counting, he turned back to the lake just as the man disappeared into the shed.

Twenty-nine. Thirty.

Sharp counted faster.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Under the dock, Olivia shivered in the freezing water. The lake bottom was slimy and slick under her bare feet.

Boots clumped on the dock. He was exiting the shed. Thank God she’d changed her mind about hiding in there. He would have found her already.

The footsteps came closer. Her pulse skittered. She wanted to flee, but there was nowhere to go. No boats were tied up at the dock, and she didn’t have the wind to swim. Her body remained still, but her heart beat like a wild animal.

Instinctively, she wanted to hold her breath, but that might trigger a coughing spell. She prayed the lapping of the water covered her wheezing. As long as she didn’t cough, he wouldn’t hear her.

“Where are you?” His angry voice echoed over the water. “I swear, the longer it takes me to find you, the more you’re going to suffer.”

The sound of his words sent a shiver through her entire body. Still, she tried not to move. Could he hear her teeth chattering? Her arms, wrapped around the dock piling, cramped in the cold water.

Do. Not. Move.

No matter how uncomfortable she was, she had to remain still. The footsteps approached. She breathed shallowly to minimize her wheezing. Olivia looked up. She could see the soles of his boots between the boards of the dock.

So close.

Her heart slammed against her ribs so hard it seemed as if he would be able to hear it knocking. A cough tickled Olivia’s throat. She swallowed and concentrated on taking shallow, steady breaths.

Please. No.

The cold penetrated her bones. Her teeth rattled, and the cold seemed to burn her skin. The aching in her body slowly went numb. Her hands and feet felt like blocks of ice. How could she hold on to the dock if she couldn’t feel her hands?

Don’t let go!

Slowly, the footsteps began to walk away. Olivia waited. He would need time to walk back across the rocky beach to the path in the woods.

Her hands slipped on the wet piling. She lost footing in the slippery muck. The cold closed over her head. For a few seconds, she was suspended in the murky water. Then she got her feet under her body again. Her face broke the surface, and she sputtered.

Had he heard?

She listened but heard no more footsteps. Had he left or was he waiting for her to come out? She couldn’t wait any longer. Soon, she wouldn’t be able to move. Her body would shut down. She’d sink and drown.

She released her grip on the dock. Her arms fell limply into the water. She sank, her head going under again. The cold water burned her eyeballs. But she wasn’t ready to die. Her survival instinct kicked in, and her feet followed suit. She came up again. Floundering in the water, she gasped for air as she emerged from under the dock. For a few seconds, she stood in the muck, scanning the beach, the tall weeds that grew at the marshy edge of the lake brushing her face.