Wyoming Mountain Escape by Laura Scott (i wanna iguana read aloud .txt) 📕

When she was in the water, panicking was the worst possible enemy. Take each stroke and follow through. Keep your focus on your destination. She sucked in a breath, tried to calm herself and did as he’d taught her.

Where had Vincent gone? She scanned the bridge above. No truck. She hadn’t heard it leave, but she’d been too focused on saving herself.

As the car begin to settle, a sharp crack came from the woods above and close to the road. She recognized the sound immediately from the many times Blake had taken her to the gun range. Gunfire. Vincent was shooting at her. He was determined she wasn’t going to leave here alive.

More shots landed all around. Barrel flashes lit up the woods. Vincent scrambled down the embankment. The shots missed her by inches. Faith ducked beneath the surface to keep from being hit. She swam underwater until she reached the opposite side of the car.

“Did you really think you could get away? From me?” Vincent mocked. “There’s no way I can let you live. Cheryl’s dead at your house. I used Blake’s weapon to kill her. You remember—the one he taught you to shoot with. Your fingerprints are all over it. By now, my police buddies have probably found her body. I’ll tell them you tried to kill me too. No one will blame me for taking you down.”

Those ominous words threatened to destroy her. Vincent planned to frame her for Cheryl’s death. Her murder would be considered justifiable by his fellow cops.

“Where’s the evidence Blake left you?” Vincent demanded. “Give it to me and maybe I’ll let you live.”

There was no way she trusted him to keep his word. Once he had the evidence, he’d kill her.

Using the car as a barrier, she peeked around the edge. Vincent spotted her and opened fire. Faith ducked beneath the water. As she resurfaced, the purse slipped from her head and begun floating away. The clasp worked its way open. It wouldn’t take long for everything inside to be in the creek.

Faith grabbed for it like the lifeline it was. That purse contained her only means of contacting anyone and the hard copies of all the data on the thumb drive along with Blake’s note describing his and Vincent’s crimes.

She’d tucked the drive into a plastic bag inside her wallet and placed it in her purse before she’d called Cheryl. At the time, she hadn’t imagined a scenario such as this. God had planted the notion in her mind. If she lost those items, she had nothing.

Faith dove for the disappearing purse, but the current was too swift, and it floated out of her reach. Another round of shots peppered the water around her, forcing her to retreat. Desperate, she looked around for some means of escape, but there wasn’t one. It was just her and a killer who was determined to bury her at the bottom of the creek. Along with his crimes.

Gunshots—more than one—had Eli Shetler sitting up straighter on the wagon. A short time earlier another disturbing sound had interrupted his tired thoughts. Metal crunching together followed by a loud splash. Something quite large had gone into Silver Creek. Undoubtedly, a car. But that didn’t explain the gunshots. Those worried him the most.

Eli shook the reins hard. The mare picked up her pace.

The bridge over Silver Creek appeared through the snowy downpour.

Though he’d been back in West Kootenai for a little more than a month, everywhere he looked moments from his past abounded. Good times. Bad times. Those he and his wife, Miriam, had spent together reminded him of all he’d lost with her death. Silver Creek was no exception. They’d picnicked here. Taken long walks through the nearby woods to spend time together when they were courting. And he’d loved her so much. Even after two years, he couldn’t believe he would never see her or the baby they’d been expecting again.

Eli stopped the horse before she entered the bridge. Part of the guardrail to the right was missing where a vehicle had plowed through it. The image in his head was unsettling.

A little way down on the opposite side, a pickup truck was parked off the gravel road. Had the driver stopped to lend assistance? While he pondered these things, a half dozen more shots ricocheted from the creek below. This was no accident. Someone was in serious trouble.

Eli grabbed the shotgun he kept for protection when working out in the wilderness and started down the slippery embankment.

“Help!” A woman screamed at the top of her lungs. Her distressed voice sent Eli scrambling the rest of the way down.

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness below the bridge, the sight in front of him was like nothing he’d seen before. A woman was in the water near a car that was sinking quickly. On the bank nearby, a shadowy figure of a man. He had a gun aimed at the woman.

“Where is it?” the man demanded. “I want what Blake gave you. All of it. Now,” the man barked, and the woman jumped in reaction. “You should have stayed out of this, Faith. Shouldn’t have dragged Cheryl into it. Now, you’re going to die like her and your traitor husband. He betrayed blood.”

Eli was terrified the man would shoot her right before his eyes. Acting on sheer instinct, he charged toward the assailant.

The man whipped around, spotted Eli, and trained his weapon at his head.

“That’s far enough.” The man scowled as he looked Eli over without lowering the weapon. “This doesn’t concern you. I’m a police officer.” He reached inside his pocket and flashed a badge too quickly for Eli to read it. “This woman is being accused of murder. I’m here to take her back with me.”

“He’s lying!” the female yelled, her pleading eyes latching on to Eli. Something familiar about her startled him. “He tried to kill me by forcing me off the bridge. Now he’s shooting at me.”

The reality of those words