Able to see again, but knowing the wound continued to bleed, he jogged to the Cadillac and walked around it, looking for clues. When he got to the back, he spotted a key ring on the ground.
Upon further inspection, Eagle noticed footprints in the dirt on the shoulder, leading into the dense forest next to the road. The same forest he and Taylor had admired as they’d driven south.
He’d been such an idiot taking the scenic route! He’d known better, but he’d gotten careless. Had thought since he hadn’t seen anyone following them, it would be safe.
He’d kick his own ass later. Right now, he didn’t have time for anything but finding Taylor.
Pulling out his phone, Eagle dialed Smoke’s number.
“Hey, you in Bloomington already?” Smoke asked as he answered.
“I need you to trace a license plate,” Eagle said.
“Shit, what’s wrong?”
“I don’t know if it’s active—it looks old, and the registration sticker expired six years ago.”
To Smoke’s credit, he didn’t ask any more questions. “Give it to me.”
“LLC 432.”
“Got it. What else do you need?”
“A chopper. I was PIT-ed and T-boned on the way to Bloomington. I’m between Martinsville and Bloomington, somewhere in the Morgan-Monroe State Forest. Looks like Taylor ran, and someone followed. I’m going after her, but the chopper can use FLIR to find her. Trace my phone to give the pilot coordinates,” Eagle told his teammate.
“Will do. We’re on the way,” Smoke said.
Eagle cut the connection, knowing his friend would be as good as his word. If they could get the chopper with the forward-looking infrared camera in the air, there was a chance Taylor could be found within the hour.
But Eagle’s gut rolled. She might not have an hour. If the man chasing her was the stalker—and he’d bet everything that he was—her life was in serious danger.
Slipping his phone back into his pocket, knowing his team would get to him as soon as they could, Eagle set off into the forest.
He had to stop and wipe blood out of his eyes every several minutes, but nothing was going to keep him from finding his woman. Not the way his head was spinning. Not the blood oozing from the cut on his forehead.
Eagle had been trained to track targets, and he was more than thankful at the moment for everything he’d learned. He could tell when Taylor had been running and when she’d stopped for a moment. The man following her hadn’t lost her, either. Eagle had hoped he might’ve gotten turned around in the forest.
Even if the man was lost, Eagle wouldn’t go after him. No, his mission was Taylor. He needed to make sure she was safe and unharmed. She’d been in the Jeep with him. She could have broken bones, or the man could’ve hurt her before she’d run.
The forest was unnaturally silent. Even the birds weren’t chirping, and he couldn’t hear any sign of a pursuit. His own steps were nearly silent, as he avoided stepping on anything that might announce his presence to Taylor’s stalker.
He steadily followed Taylor’s trail deeper into the forest. He was impressed at her clear attempts to shake the man. She stayed off the easy, more obvious trails, choosing instead to cut through brambles and thick copses of trees. And Eagle was doing a good job of keeping himself calm and focused—until he saw blood smeared against the trunk of a tree.
He had a feeling it was Taylor’s. The tree was directly behind a particularly nasty group of blackberry bushes. He remembered the short-sleeve T-shirt she’d been wearing to travel to Bloomington and could only imagine how scraped up her arms would’ve gotten by cutting through the thorny bushes.
Gritting his teeth, Eagle wiped at his face once more, annoyed by the blood that wouldn’t stop seeping from his wound. He paused for a second, closing his eyes and straining to hear something. Anything.
Amazingly, he thought he heard a shout not too far ahead.
He had no idea how much of a head start Taylor and her stalker had on him, and was thrilled at hearing even the slightest evidence he might be getting close.
He opened his eyes and began jogging in the direction of the noise, not bothering to pay as close attention to the tracks at his feet anymore. The shouting could only have been made by one of two people, and instinct told him that Taylor and her stalker would be together.
The faster he jogged, the easier it was to hear the voice somewhere in front of him. If the woods had been quiet before, they weren’t now.
It was clearly a man’s voice Eagle was hearing, and the words made his blood run cold.
“You can’t hide from me, Taylor!” the man was shouting. “I’ll find you no matter where you try to hide. You know why? Because you’re perfect! You’ll never be able to recognize me. When I have you chained up in the basement, I’ll show you what helpless really feels like!”
Eagle ran faster, staying light on his feet. He had to be close, but he couldn’t quite pinpoint where the man was, his voice seeming to echo around him. It didn’t help that he was still dizzy from hitting his head.
“I can’t wait to wrap my hands around your neck and watch you stop breathing. But don’t worry. I’ll resuscitate you so we can do it all over again. And the best part is, you’ll have no idea if it’s the same man strangling you or a different one each time! That’s why you’re so damn perfect!”
Eagle regretted not grabbing his firearm before he’d left his car. He always carried it, but he’d been disoriented and not thinking straight when he’d climbed from the wreckage.
But he didn’t need a gun to kill this asshole.
He could do it just as easily with his bare hands.
He had no idea how much time had passed since he’d set off after Taylor, but it obviously hadn’t been enough for a helicopter to get to them yet. He was on his own, and that was all right too.
Slowing down and silencing his footsteps further when the man’s voice got louder, Eagle peered through a dense wall of trees when he was within yards of the stalker to get an idea of the terrain and to make a plan.
A man who looked to be in his early forties was in a small clearing. He was a bit shorter than Eagle. His hair was brown, and he was a little on the heavy side. From his current angle, the man looked completely ordinary. There was nothing about him that stood out. Even if Taylor didn’t have prosopagnosia, she might not have been able to describe him to the cops in a way that would make a sketch very valuable.
There was a large tree trunk lying on its side close by, with vines and weeds growing up thick around it. The man had a knife in one hand and was rooting around one end of the trunk with the other, talking to Taylor, as if he knew she was hiding within the hollowed-out tree.
“You might as well come out, Taylor. There’s only going to be one outcome to this. You’re coming back with me to my house . . . and we’re going to play.”
Without a word, and remaining completely silent, Eagle slipped up behind the man.
A mere few feet away, he stepped on a small branch—and it snapped.
Cursing his fuckup and wishing Smoke were here—he would’ve been able to approach the man without making a sound—Eagle braced as the man spun.
The smirk on his face faded, replaced with disbelief and rage, and Eagle recognized evil when he saw it. He’d seen more than his fair share of pure malevolence, and this man was right there at the top of the list with the worst of humanity.