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K-9 Defense

Page 13

by Elizabeth Heiter


  For this moment. Her hand clutching him so tightly as she tried to get control over her emotions. It wasn’t pity in her eyes, but deep sadness and understanding.

  He knew she understood why he’d never felt like he should have gotten another chance when none of his brothers had. Because somewhere deep down, she probably felt the same way about her sister.

  But the bond he felt with her was more than one of loss. Because she made him want to live again, to reach for things he had no business wanting.

  He couldn’t do it.

  She had a shot at finding Alanna, at moving on with her life and finding happiness. But how could he smile and go on with life like everything was fine when eight other families had buried their happiness?

  The answer was simple. His living that day had been a fluke, an act of love from his partner. But it wasn’t what was supposed to have happened. He should have gone with his brothers. And he wasn’t going to betray them by leaving them behind a second time.

  Chapter Fourteen

  His leg was killing him.

  Colter bit the inside of his lip until he tasted blood. He leaned heavily on the cane he’d reluctantly pulled out this morning when he’d discovered even getting out of his recliner was a challenge. He hadn’t used the thing in more than six months, when he’d vowed never to rely on it again. Thank goodness he’d stashed it in a closet instead of tossing it.

  He hated that he needed it now, but it was better than not being able to keep up with Kensie. Because as much as he could have used another day or two to recover, he knew she wasn’t going to wait. And he didn’t trust anyone else to help her.

  She’d slept twenty feet away from him last night, tucked into his bed. Every time she’d rolled over, he’d heard the rustle of his sheets and every nerve in his body had fired to life. Especially since, before she’d headed to his room to sleep, she’d leaned over and pressed the softest, briefest kiss on his lips.

  The feel of that kiss had lingered through the night, tingling every time he heard her move. Even before his accident, he’d never connected with anyone the way he had with Kensie.

  He still couldn’t believe he’d shared his story with her. Even more, he couldn’t believe he’d done it without having a bad flashback or a panic attack. But her touch on his shoulder and Rebel’s head under his hand had kept him grounded in the present.

  Today, he felt wrung out from the inside. But in a strange way, it felt good, like some of the tension and anger he’d been carrying around for the past year had been swept away, too.

  Maybe it was looking at the way she lived her life. She’d said she spent too long trying to do everything at two hundred percent to make up for what happened to her sister. But when he looked at Kensie, he didn’t see a woman doing everything at warp speed to avoid having to really live. He saw someone capable and strong, someone who would never give up on the people she loved.

  Right now she was walking beside him. He could practically feel her restrained energy as she took short strides, her hand resting on Rebel’s head.

  They’d agreed last night that, since her truck was in town and he was in no shape to drive, she’d stay with him. Then, today, they’d go back to the part of town where she’d spotted Henry. With all the stores open, they’d be able to talk to more people and hopefully get some better answers about the man and where he lived.

  The plan had been to set off in the morning, but his leg had refused to hold his weight for very long. The concern on Kensie’s face had mixed with an anxiousness to get going and he’d promised he’d be ready by midafternoon. She’d seemed doubtful, but here they were. He would be paying for this later, but he wasn’t taking any chances. His pistol was holstered under his shirt on the left.

  Danny Weston was still in a holding cell, so he wasn’t an immediate concern. But Colter didn’t know enough about Henry to have any clue what to expect if they found him. If Kensie was right and he’d had her sister for the past fourteen years, Colter wasn’t messing around. Whatever it took to free Alanna, he was willing to do.

  “How can no one know this guy?” Kensie asked now, sounding as frustrated as she looked.

  They’d spoken to half the store owners so far, plus a handful of locals braving the cold. The temperatures weren’t abnormal for this time of year—hovering around twenty degrees—but the windchill had been brutal all afternoon. He’d tugged up the collar of Kensie’s coat for her, but her cheeks were already windburned.

  “Someone will know,” Colter promised.

  It was clear Henry was trying to stay off people’s radar, and while locals embraced the idea of “live and let live,” they were also a wary bunch. You had to be, with people like Danny Weston trying to take advantage of that attitude.

  So the locals might try to stay out of other people’s business, but a guy like Henry would have raised flags for someone. They just had to find the right person—the one who’d not only gotten suspicious but was also in a position to notice details about where he might be hiding out.

  And Colter had an idea who that right person might be. He held open the door to a check-cashing place that looked like it had been built fifty years ago and never cleaned in all that time. It was crammed into a corner of the town, mostly hidden behind a grocery/hardware store, but that’s how the locals liked it—out of sight. And so did the people who frequented it. People who wanted as short a paper trail as possible, who didn’t believe in keeping their money in banks.

  “Let’s try here,” he suggested.

  Kensie gave him a doubtful look but preceded him into the store, Rebel on her heels.

  “That dog better be a service dog,” the owner snapped. He was perpetually scowling, a guy who looked as unkempt and old as his store. But his eyes were sharp, zooming in on Colter’s side immediately as if he could tell Colter was carrying.

  “One of the best,” Colter replied, purposely misunderstanding what the guy meant by “service.”

  The owner—Yura something—screwed his lips up in a semiscowl, but his gaze drifted from Colter’s side to his cane and his dragging leg. “Yeah, okay. You looking to cash a check?”

  “No, I’m looking for some information on someone who might have been in here.”

  “Don’t give out information on my customers,” Yura said, turning his attention to the TV mounted in the corner, playing a soap opera on mute.

  “We think he kidnapped my friend’s sister,” Colter said, nodding toward Kensie.

  Yura narrowed his gaze on Kensie, then frowned harder at Colter. “What’s his name?”

  “Henry Rollings.”

  “Henry, huh?”

  “You know him?” Kensie’s voice was full of hope as she leaned closer to Yura.

  “Yeah,” Yura said slowly.

  “What can you tell us about him?”

  Yura stared so long at Colter that Colter thought he was going to have to ask again. Finally, Yura asked, “Why do you think he kidnapped this woman?”

  “I saw her,” Kensie blurted. “I tried to follow them and then someone else got in my way and Henry drove off with her.”

  Yura’s gaze shifted briefly to Kensie, then returned to Colter. “You were a Marine, huh?”

  Colter wasn’t sure how Yura knew that, but he supposed it was a sign his instincts were correct—Yura noticed things about people. “That’s right.”

  He nodded at Rebel. “Her, too?”

  “Yes.”

  “So was I. Long time ago.” Yura sighed heavily. “Henry’s a strange guy. Lot of the people who come in here are hiding from something. Not really my business what it is. But kidnapping a woman? You sure about that?”

  “No,” Colter answered, sensing Yura would respond better to honesty. “But there’s a really good chance. And if he did take her, he knows that we know. So we don’t have long to find him.”

  “
Please,” Kensie said, her voice barely above a whisper. “If you can help us...”

  Yura nodded. “Henry cashes checks in here sometimes. I think usually he gets paid in cash, but every once in a while he does odd jobs for a couple up north. Untrusting sort, the Altiers. They like to stay off the radar, too. They pay well but keep a couple of guns on hand and only pay by check. Say it’s a safety thing and I don’t blame them, the way they hire drifters. Plus, they’ve got a bunch of kids to think about.”

  “Up north?” Colter asked. “Is that where Henry lives? Near this couple?”

  Yura dug around under the counter and then dropped a piece of torn notebook paper on it. He sketched out a rough map, then turned it around for Colter to see. “You know where this is?”

  Colter held in a curse. “Yeah, I think so.”

  “I can’t be sure he lives up that way, but if I had to guess, this is what I’d pick. The couple he works for is here.” Yura tapped the hand-drawn map, marking a spot in the middle of nowhere. “No one lives within two miles of them. They’re seriously paranoid. But Henry’s come in here a half dozen times over the past few years with checks from them. My bet is he lives somewhere in this area, close enough that they feel comfortable hiring him repeatedly.”

  “It’s out of the way,” Colter agreed. “Perfect for someone who wants to hide. And in the direction that the warehouse owner said he sometimes sees Henry go.”

  “It’s not going to be an easy area to get into unnoticed.” Yura pushed the map toward him. “Semper Fi, brother.”

  Hearing the words sent a jolt through Colter, part shock, part energizing. It had been a year since anyone had spoken them to him. “Semper Fi.”

  “Thank you,” Kensie added as she trailed Colter out the door. “How long will it take us to get there?”

  “We’re not going tonight.”

  “What?” She slapped her hands on her hips, over the warm coat he’d forced her to buy the other day. “Why not?”

  Even though he knew it was windburn, he liked the pink in her cheeks. It matched the fire in her eyes right now. But he wouldn’t let himself be swayed. He’d agreed to help her find her sister, not get her killed in the process.

  “For one, it’s going to be dark in a couple of hours and we don’t even know if he lives here. This is Yura’s guess. Two, the terrain is seriously treacherous. We don’t want to be stuck out there at night.”

  “Colter—”

  “I know time is crucial, Kensie. Believe me, I get it. But we’re not doing your sister any good if we get ourselves killed. And I’m not kidding about the area. There’s no easy way to access it other than one trail, and even that’s blocked half the time. We’ve already had enough of a snowfall that it’s possible snow has dumped off the side of the hills and made it inaccessible.”

  “But we saw Henry in town just yesterday. He got here somehow.”

  “Yeah, and that probably tells us the road is fine, but some of the locals who live way out in the wilderness use snow mobiles and keep a vehicle somewhere else. Besides, if Henry is anticipating us, he’ll know to watch that road. Not to mention that Yura’s map just gives us a general area. It’ll take us hours to investigate it all.”

  “So, maybe night is better,” Kensie argued. “If Henry is watching the road—”

  “We get people stuck up in that area who freeze to death every year, Kensie. There are no cell towers for miles, so no cell service at all. And the houses are miles apart, too, so you’d be lucky to reach help.”

  “But you know the area—”

  “Not that area. Not well enough. I’m not taking you up there tonight.”

  Frustration and disappointment mingled on her face, but they couldn’t hide what was underneath: fear. Fear that even as they stood there speaking, Henry was already rushing her sister out of town. That they were already too late.

  “Tomorrow morning,” Colter promised. “We’ll go with supplies and a plan. Okay?”

  “Okay,” she agreed reluctantly.

  He nodded. “I’ll drop you at your hotel so you can get fresh clothes and I’ll pick you up tomorrow at eight. Sound good?”

  “Oh. Sure.”

  The surprise in her voice told him she’d half-expected to go back to his cabin with him tonight. The idea made desire curl in his belly, but he ignored it.

  He couldn’t take her with him tonight because he wasn’t going home.

  After he dropped her off, he planned to scout the area himself.

  * * *

  SHE SHOULD BE with Colter now, not tossing and turning in her ridiculously soft hotel bed, unable to sleep. It was mostly worry about Alanna keeping her up, but part of it was the man helping her find her sister.

  If they did locate Alanna tomorrow, Kensie would be going home. She’d never see Colter again. Just the thought of it made her chest tighten with dread.

  Why hadn’t she spoken up when he’d told her he’d drop her off at her hotel? Based on the way he’d returned her kiss last night before she’d headed off to his room, if she’d asked to go with him, he would have said yes. Instead of sitting here, heart beating too fast and a million different scenarios about what could happen tomorrow running through her mind, she could be with Colter right now.

  In his bed with him. Or on his lap on his recliner. She’d even take a spot curled up on the floor by Rebel if it meant she could be close to Colter.

  Who was she kidding? Even if she started out on the floor—which she knew Colter would never let happen—she wouldn’t stay there long. She’d end up beside him, underneath him, on top of him, arms and legs entwined, lips pressed against his until she could hardly breathe.

  Normally, she backed away from relationships that had too much potential to hurt her heart. Her mom said it was her way of protecting herself from losing anyone again. So she left them first. It was probably true, but then, she’d never met anyone she couldn’t stay away from. Until Colter.

  His loss had been different than hers, but he understood the mingling of grief and guilt in a way most people couldn’t. And maybe that was part of why she felt connected to him. But it was only a small part.

  The rest of it was about the man. The way he’d risked his own safety for hers and Rebel’s. The way he smiled at Rebel when she sat by him. The way he looked at her sometimes with those soft blue eyes, focused so intently on her as if he never wanted her to leave his side.

  She knew exactly where it would lead to sleep with someone she cared too much about and then walk away. She’d never been remotely tempted to try it. But right now, she was pretty sure not staying with Colter tonight was going to be one of the biggest regrets of her life.

  So do something about it. The thought hit like a sledgehammer and Kensie shoved off her covers, heart pounding. What would Colter do if she just showed up at his cabin tonight?

  Only one way to find out. Kensie felt a goofy smile lifting her lips as she flipped on the light next to her bed.

  As the light went on, there was a soft thump from the other side of her door.

  Kensie froze, listening. Had Colter gotten the same idea and come to her hotel tonight? No. He’d never stand out there skulking if he’d made up his mind to be with her. He’d knock forcefully and then wait patiently for her to decide.

  Maybe someone else had checked into the hotel. Except the sound had come from right outside her door. Too close to be someone going into another room.

  Maybe she was imagining things. She sat perfectly still, straining to listen. Another sound reached her ears, this time a drawn-out metallic scrape, as if someone was working the lock.

  She jerked in response, banging her head against the headboard as panic took hold.

  At the sound, whoever was outside stopped being quiet. There was a loud thud, like a big body ramming against the door. The door actually curved inward near the ceiling, but
the lock held.

  Why had she chosen the big, luxurious failing hotel with hardly anyone staying in it instead of the beat-up motel closer to downtown? The only other person staying on this floor had checked out yesterday. The manager was four floors below her, probably asleep at his desk like he had been last night. Screaming was useless.

  Fighting back panic, Kensie practically fell out of bed, groping for her cell phone. Colter. His number popped up first, the last person she’d texted.

  Need help right now, she typed frantically, even as she wondered if she should call 911. But Colter knew exactly where she was, knew who was a threat to her in this town. Had Danny Weston been let out of jail already? Why wouldn’t the police give her a heads-up?

  She’d call the police as soon as she finished texting Colter. Please hur—

  There was another thunderous bang, and this time the door burst inward, splintering away all around the lock.

  Even knowing it was useless, Kensie screamed. Dropping the phone, she grappled blindly for anything she could use as a weapon, her gaze locked on the man backlit in her doorway.

  Not Danny. Henry Rollings.

  He rushed into the room, igniting a million fragments of memory in her mind. Alanna glancing back and smiling at her as she danced. The tire swing her dad had hung in the front yard. A big dark sedan rolling slowly down the street toward them. A quick hand reaching out and yanking Alanna away.

  Everything suddenly sped up, in her memory and right in front of her, as Henry darted around the foot of the bed.

  He was older than he’d been fourteen years ago, more gray in his hair, more lines on his face. But he still outweighed her by a lot, still had ropey muscle in his forearms and a dangerous gleam in his eyes.

  “You never should have come here,” he said, his voice low and deadly.

  Kensie stopped groping for a weapon. Instead, she leaped on top of the bed. Running instead of fighting suddenly seemed like her best option.

 

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