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Christmas Vendetta

Page 17

by Valerie Hansen


  “Hold on. Radio traffic.”

  Clay overheard most of the broadcast information. Not only had Clay’s car been spotted before they’d entered the forest, the ranger parked out front had just confirmed their location. Things were looking worse by the minute. At this point, all Clay dared hope for was that the good guys would arrive before anyone else showed up.

  “How far are you from the Mark Twain forest?” he asked Abe.

  “GPS says twenty minutes, give or take. A ranger is guiding us in.”

  “Terrific.”

  “Hey, don’t blame him. He’s just doing his job.”

  “Who else is with you?” Clay asked, holding his breath for the answer and praying it wasn’t one of the cops he suspected.

  “Who isn’t?” Abe cracked back. “Even Chief Wright went mobile for this call.”

  “Did he happen to bring Detective Johansen?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “Because both of them seemed to believe I’m innocent. Other than those two, and you, I don’t place a lot of confidence in fairness.”

  “Well, nobody can just shoot you to end the investigation if we’re watching,” Abe said.

  “Thanks, buddy,” Clay drawled. “That makes me feel a bunch better.”

  “You’re welcome. I’d also count the ranger as a neutral party. That’s one more ally.”

  Clay nodded even though Abe couldn’t see him. “Yeah. If Allgood or Harper come up, keep an eye out. I don’t trust either of them.”

  “Will do.” Sirens started in the background, almost drowning out the phone call. Abe shouted, “Keep your head down. We’re getting close.”

  Clay ended the call. If this was to be a standoff, he’d have to find a safer place to stash Sandy Lynn to keep her out of the line of fire—providing she’d do as he told her. The woman had a mind of her own, which wasn’t so bad if lives weren’t at stake, particularly hers.

  He ducked back inside, pocketed the phone and found her warming her hands by the fire. The moment she saw him her eyes filled with moisture. “The truck is still out there.”

  “I figured it would be. Come here.”

  Her steps were measured, her arms slowly rising as if to embrace him. What could Clay do other than respond in kind? As she leaned on his chest, he completed the hug and pulled her closer. “It’s almost over. I promise.”

  “I told you to never make me another promise.”

  “This one’s different,” Clay insisted. “This one can’t fail.”

  “So, we’ll be all right? You’ll be all right?”

  Leaning down to place a featherlight kiss on her hair, he momentarily closed his eyes and imagined another time, another place. He wondered if it would ever be possible to undo his mistakes regarding the extraordinary woman in his arms.

  His mind told him, no, while his heart continued to ask and pray and hope for the opposite.

  * * *

  Given the option, Sandy Lynn would have languished in Clay’s embrace forever. Since that wasn’t possible, she chose to take the initiative and relieve him from bearing her burdens as well as his own.

  She gathered her convictions and gently pushed him away. “If I take to the forest and make a lot of noise, maybe the ranger will decide to follow me and you can escape.”

  “I’m not going anywhere without you.”

  Relief flooded her. She closed her eyes and took a ragged breath. “I won’t argue. So, what is plan B? I know you must have one.”

  “Only keeping you safe in any way I can.”

  Her keen mind had been mulling over various scenarios and had settled on what she felt was the most likely to succeed. “Here’s what I think we should do. We need to split up.” When he opened his mouth, ostensibly to protest, she placed her fingertips on his lips to silence him. “Hear me out.”

  A slight nod was followed by a kiss on her forehead. “Go on.”

  “There are lots of other cabins around here. Some are really close by. If I run one way and you go another, the ranger can’t follow us both. Then, whoever is free waits for Abe and explains everything.”

  “We can wait together. There’s no reason to split up.”

  Tell him the rest of your plan, her heart insisted. Give him logical reasons to listen to you. If she’d thought for a second Clay would agree with her ideas, she’d have followed the urge to open up to him. Unfortunately, his brain didn’t work like hers and she was afraid he’d stubbornly disagree. All she wanted to do was get one of the good guys alone, away from questionable companions, and totally convince him that Clay was innocent.

  Success would depend upon her powers of persuasion, as well as the other person’s open-mindedness, of course, but by separating, Sandy Lynn envisioned their chances doubling. One of them could reason with the ranger while the other talked to the men in the first police car to arrive. Having officers on the scene would also soothe her worries about Charles Hood and his cronies. She almost hoped they would show up so she and Clay could resolve both their dilemmas at the same time.

  Sandy Lynn’s pulse thudded in her ears, nearly blocking out incoming sounds. That’s why she wasn’t sure she was hearing the approach of sirens at first. Apparently, Clay had also heard something different, because he left her and went to the window.

  “The ranger just got out of his truck again,” he announced. “I’m going to leave my gun in here and go stand with him so there won’t be any questions about whether or not I’m surrendering. I don’t expect the cops to approach with guns drawn, but I’m not willing to take the chance on one of the crooked ones trying to shoot me.”

  “Then you should stay in here,” she argued.

  “No. Out in the open.”

  “I’ll come, too.”

  “No. You stay in here and wait for me to settle things outside. When I’m positive the right people are in charge, I’ll call you out.”

  “Suppose they just arrest you without giving you a chance to explain? What then? They’ll haul me back to Springfield, and Charles will have more opportunities to murder me.”

  “Concentrate on your faith,” Clay countered. “It’ll bring you through.”

  Oh, how she wished that was true. In Sandy Lynn’s eyes, faith was best utilized as a part of a sensible lifestyle, not relied upon in place of common sense. God had given her a brain. He expected her to us it, period, not sit back and wait for heavenly intervention when earthly choices could save the day. Or preserve life, for that matter.

  Clay opened the front door and called, “I’m coming out,” then held his hands away from his sides and stepped onto the porch.

  * * *

  Sandy Lynn had never taken off her jacket in the chilly log building. She’d wait for Clay’s signal, as he wanted. If and when he secured a promise of peace and safety for them both, she’d appear. If he did not, she’d do her absolute best to get Abe alone and do whatever he recommended to help Clay.

  Pacing didn’t help pass the time. Neither did imagining various rescue scenarios that brought her and Clay through unscathed. What she craved almost to the point of tears was action.

  There was a rear door off the kitchen that led into the forest. If she took that and circled around, keeping out of sight, she’d be okay. After all, the ranger was parked close by.

  All the way into the large commercial kitchen, Sandy Lynn felt a sudden chill in the air, as if a door was open. Or had been. She stood motionless, waiting, looking, listening. No threats were apparent, so why was the hair at the nape of her neck rising? Why did she feel so uneasy all of a sudden?

  She tiptoed to the door, planning to ease it open enough to check the surroundings. Stainless steel sinks were uncluttered yet dusty. So was the tiled floor. As she scanned it, choosing her path, she noted a disturbance in the dirt. Footprints. Recent ones with waffle treads. Had Clay ventured that far away from
her while looking for food? It was possible.

  Raspy breathing and her own heartbeats were all Sandy Lynn could pick out over the wailing of the approaching sirens. If only they would quiet down, she thought, so nervous she was trembling.

  She reached for the door handle, her fingers poised above it. There was nothing wrong with her plan, yet some unnamed instinct kept telling her to stop. To reconsider. To do as Clay had ordered.

  Suddenly all options were taken from her. A large, gloved hand clamped over her mouth and strong arms pinned her to a man’s chest. She could hardly breathe, let alone scream for help, though in her mind she was shrieking.

  A harsh voice whispered in her ear. “Stop fighting me, Sandy, or I’ll quiet you down the hard way. You know I can.”

  No one had to tell her who was restraining her. She didn’t have to see her ex’s face to feel the power of his hate. Yes, she did know what he was capable of. And it wasn’t pretty.

  “Don’t scream,” Charles hissed as he eased the pressure of his hand over her mouth. “I’m warning you.”

  Sandy Lynn managed a tiny nod and gasped to replenish the air in her lungs as soon as he allowed it. Deep breathing helped clear her head and consolidate her thoughts. If Clay walked into this mess, he was sure to be injured, perhaps killed, because he was unarmed. What could she do? How could she possibly alter the circumstances to give him a fighting chance? For one thing, she had to get Charles and whoever may have come with him to leave this building before Clay came back for her.

  “The—” she coughed “—cops are coming. Don’t you hear them?”

  “Yeah, I know.” The escaped felon laughed as if she’d told a joke. “They led me right to you.”

  “How?” Feeling a slacking of his hold, she twisted away to stare at him.

  “Police radio. I borrowed it.” He displayed a small, portable unit. “Had to mute it though, or you’d have heard me coming.”

  “You can’t stay here,” she offered, hoping Charles would agree and take her farther from Clay for her old friend’s sake.

  “We aren’t,” he said with evident sarcasm. He reached for her upper arm.

  She let him take hold even though memories of his rough treatment screamed against it. This was for the best. For Clay. And maybe, just maybe, she’d be able to turn the tables on this hateful man and see him brought to justice again. It was worth a try. Worth a wordless prayer. Worth sacrificing herself if that meant Clay and the others would be okay.

  Love for her old friend filled her heart and mind, driving out the agony over past disappointments. Peace came in a wave and washed over her, leaving an invisible covering that felt as though she was wrapped in a warm blanket. Cosseted. Protected. Under divine guard.

  Charles opened the rear exit and shoved her through the doorway. She stumbled. He kept her from falling, pushing her ahead of him and up the incline into the trees where two more men waited.

  “Please, Father God,” Sandy Lynn whispered to herself, “stay with me no matter what happens. Please, Lord?”

  Gray clouds blocked the sun and the temperature in the forest was bone-chillingly low. Adrenaline kept Sandy Lynn moving, picking her way across rocky, leaf-strewn ground while Charles jerked her arm from time to time, likely to keep her aware she was his prisoner. The other two men took positions on either side, ostensibly to guard their leader, and they started to skirt a small, outlying cabin.

  Pieces of loose bark snagged on her jacket. Snow crunched beneath her boots, making a faint squeal as it compressed and she slipped a tiny bit.

  Two of the bikers dragged her up to the derelict cabin and shoved her through a narrow door.

  “Tie her up and gag her,” Hood ordered.

  “I won’t fight you, I promise,” Sandy Lynn told him.

  All he did was laugh at her and motion to his companions by waving a gun.

  I won’t give up. I won’t quit, she assured herself as the powerful men bound and gagged her. I’m not done living.

  That final thought gripped her heart and refused to let go. She wasn’t done. Not by any stretch of the imagination. She somehow knew she had a lot time left. Even if she wasn’t able to spend it with the man she loved, at least she was saving his life.

  I do love Clay, Sandy Lynn admitted ruefully. I probably never stopped. Tears spilled down her cheeks. Her breath clouded in the cold air. Movement around her didn’t register until she was grabbed roughly and pulled to her feet.

  The gag kept her silent as Charles dragged her across the rough cabin floor, opened a closet and shoved her in. Its walls smelled of cedar. There was barely enough room to turn around. Sandy Lynn screeched behind the gag and rued the moment of past weakness when she’d foolishly confided her fears to him.

  Charles slammed the door. A lock clicked. Being in the dark and confined to a small space made her shake and hyperventilate until she collapsed from the effects of sheer panic.

  Dark. So dark. And musty with the smell of vermin and moldy wood. She felt her knees start to give way and she leaned against a wall. Her tears were rivers. Her forehead beaded with sweat despite the cold.

  And all the while her brain kept on screaming. And screaming.

  NINETEEN

  The arrival of a line of patrol cars, including Arkansas State Troopers, was preceded by an unmarked Missouri sedan. Chief Wright quickly exited, in the company of Detective Jim Johansen, and went straight to the ranger’s truck.

  Again Clay displayed his empty hands for everyone’s benefit because the regular officers that had followed were fanning out, acting as if they considered him a dangerous criminal. He did not intend to give anybody a reason to start shooting.

  Apparently, neither did Chief Wright, who waved them back with a firm order. “Stand down.”

  Harper and Allgood, pausing off to one side, were the last to holster their weapons. Clay concentrated on them for a split second before addressing his chief. “I’m glad you came, sir. Johansen, too. Cooler heads are needed around here.” He gave the ranger a nod. “Present company excluded.”

  “Care to explain what’s going on?” Wright asked. “Did you really kidnap a crime victim?”

  “What?” That was almost laughable. “Of course not. I’m trying to keep her alive. That’s why we ran. Her ex is after her. He’d already knifed Enid Bloom in the apartment they shared.”

  “It was you who spotted the blood in the doorjamb?”

  Clay nodded. “Yes, sir. I was hoping it would be a match for Hood.”

  Johansen spoke up. “You were right. It was. When I met Ms. Forrester at the hospital she seemed to be friendly with you. I hope you can prove she left town of her own volition.”

  Clay gestured toward the cabin. Allgood twitched when Clay moved, so he once again raised his hands enough to allay any suspicions he was armed. “I left my gun in the building behind me. Sandy Lynn is in there too, waiting for my signal to come out. She can vouch for me.”

  “Then I suggest you call her,” the chief said. “Let’s get to the bottom of this and go home. And while we wait, suppose you tell me why you broke into impound and stole a vehicle.”

  “Whoa. I didn’t steal anything. It’s my own car.” Clay scowled at Abe. “Matthews showed me a release.”

  Abe agreed and faced the chief. “The form I was handed looked legit. It was only after Clay was out of town that I found out it was bogus. By that time, he’d already left Springfield and the warrant was issued. I figured we’d be able to set things right as soon as he came home.”

  Clay was not happy. “You knew I wasn’t coming back until Sandy Lynn was safe. Why didn’t you tell the chief I didn’t steal the car?”

  “It didn’t matter what I said at that point,” Abe alibied, blushing. “You’d already violated his orders by leaving.” He looked to the chief. “After Hood stole a patrol car I was sure he’d be nabbed. The
danger would be over, and Clay would come back so we could explain everything to you, together.”

  Grabbing his friend’s arm, Clay frowned deeply. “Hood is still on the loose?”

  “Afraid so.”

  Clay stared at the log building, trying to catch a glimpse of Sandy Lynn through the dingy windows. There didn’t seem to be any movement inside. “We need to get her out here with us, ASAP. For her own safety.”

  Wright agreed. He motioned to a nearby police officer. When Clay saw it was Allgood, he stepped into his path and stopped him. “No. Not him. Anybody but him or Harper.”

  “Out of my way.” Allgood kept advancing.

  “You’ll have to move me.”

  “That can be arranged.” He palmed his holster.

  Abe Matthews stepped between Clay and the other officer while the chief intervened verbally. “This has gone far enough. Matthews, give me a reason why you’re interfering with my orders. And it had better be good.”

  “Because he’s the guy who gave me the fake release,” Abe said. “He and Harper were both involved. I found pieces of their handiwork in the trash by Harper’s desk after it was too late. That’s how I knew the paperwork wasn’t genuine.”

  “Okay, so we dummied up a release for the car,” Allgood said. “It was just a joke. Nothing serious. Danforth had orders to not leave town, with or without his car.”

  Clay had long suspected that this particular cop was guilty of crimes much worse than printing false paperwork. Arching a brow, he asked, “Chief, did you read the last report I filed on thefts of confiscated property?”

  Wright smiled for the first time. “I did, although it would have helped if you’d named names. Matthews, here, explained what he knew about your prior connections to Ms. Forrester, too. Now, shall we get her and head back home to sort this all out? It’s freezing and some of us are out of our jurisdiction.”

  “Yes, sir. Gladly,” Clay said respectfully, in spite of the fact he was now a civilian. Waving an arm, he called, “Sandy Lynn. You can come out now,” as he started toward the porch.

 

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