Covert Christmas

by Hope White

  Scott went into the room and Bree followed.

  “Bree, where are you going?” Aiden said.

  “Someone in our family should be hospitable. Fiona, come.”

  The golden rushed to her master’s side, they went into the room and shut the door on her brother.

  She bit back her embarrassment at Aiden’s behavior and took in her surroundings. It was a mini-suite complete with kitchenette, living room and separate bedroom. These rooms were designed for extended stays.

  “I’ve been ordered to keep you under surveillance, Scott,” Officer Carrington said. “If nothing else, the sight of the cruiser in the lot and me outside your door might deter the assailants from returning.”

  “Great, thanks.” As Scott ambled to the sliding glass door he touched a suit jacket stretched across a chair as if it looked foreign to him.

  “I’m going to patrol the grounds out back.” With a nod, Officer Carrington left.

  Bree didn’t like the odd look creasing Scott’s features but before she could question him her phone vibrated with a call. She glanced at the screen. “It’s my mom.”

  “Your brother is right,” he said, staring out across the grounds. “You should go.”

  She went to him and touched his shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere until I know you’re okay, but I need to take this call.”

  He nodded, not looking at her.

  “Hey, Mom.” She went to the kitchenette.

  “Honey, I got a call from Aiden.”

  “Wow, that was fast.” Bree glanced inside the fridge. It had a carton of orange juice and a few to-go containers.

  “He’s worried about you. We’re all worried.”

  “Thank you for that. I’m blessed to have such a loving family.”

  She glanced at Scott, who disappeared into the bedroom.

  “Don’t get me wrong,” Mom said. “You’re doing a wonderful thing, Breanna. But your brother and I are concerned that Scott’s problems will become your problems, that the danger will spill onto you.”

  “Scott’s been assigned 24-hour police protection so he’s safe. Also, since we’re at the resort we’ll get Harvey to help keep an eye on things.”

  “Yes, well, that makes me feel a little better. Harvey would never let anything happen to you.”

  True enough. Bree shared a special bond with Harvey, the resort’s security manager. She considered him more of a father figure than a coworker.

  “Everything will be fine, Mom.”

  “You sound so sure of yourself.”

  “You’re going to have to trust that I wouldn’t put myself in unnecessary danger.”

  “I...I’d like to believe that.”

  Bree could hear the question in Mom’s voice, probably because she was remembering all the months when Bree claimed to be fine, when in fact she was not.

  “Don’t worry,” Bree said.

  Hoping to assuage Scott’s worry about Bree’s safety as well as her mom’s, she wandered toward the bedroom and said, “I’m perfectly safe.”

  Bree stopped short in the doorway.

  Scott sat on the bed gripping a pistol in his hand.

  FIVE

  “I’ll call you later, Mom.” Bree pocketed her phone and took a deep breath to calm her frantic pulse.

  “Scott?”

  “I found this on the nightstand.” He glanced at her with confusion in his eyes. “Why do I have a gun?”

  “I’m sure you had a good reason.”

  “I’m not a cop anymore, I know that much.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “A cop would never carry a .50 caliber cannon like this. It’s overkill.”

  He placed the gun on the bed beside him. “Call Officer Carrington, or your cousin, or the police chief. I need to be arrested.”

  “For owning a firearm?” she said, walking over and sitting next to him on the bed. “Lots of people own guns.”

  “Don’t try to make this okay, Breanna.” He stood and paced to the window. “It’s not okay.”

  A few seconds of silence passed between them. She wanted to help, but wasn’t sure how. Telling him everything was going to be okay didn’t seem to comfort him.

  “Call the sheriff’s office and have them take me in to be fingerprinted.”

  “Don’t you think you should rest first?”

  He turned to her, his eyes now dark with anger. “Call them, or I’ll call 9-1-1.”

  She ignored his threatening expression because she sensed the anger was directed at himself. “I’ll get Officer Carrington.”

  She plucked the gun from the bed by its grip, walked it into the main living area and placed it on the breakfast bar. Although her words were meant to calm them both, she realized this changed things. If he didn’t have a permit for the gun, which he probably didn’t since his wallet had been stolen, then could he be arrested for illegal possession of a firearm?

  Grabbing the wall phone, she called the security office to enlist Harvey’s help.

  “Security,” he answered.

  “Harvey, it’s Breanna.”

  “Hey, Bree, how’s our amnesiac guest?”

  “Word travels fast. Harvey, I have a situation and need your help.”

  “Name it.”

  “I have to track down the police officer assigned to Scott. He’s on the grounds somewhere and I need him to come to Scott’s room.”

  “I’ll find him. Everything okay?”

  “Sure.” She glanced into the bedroom. Scott flopped down on his back, his good arm draped over his face.

  “Let me know when you find him, and maybe you’ll want to come by, too.”

  “I’m on it.”

  She ended the call and went into the bedroom to sit beside Scott. He must have felt the bed shift because he opened his eyes and looked at her. “You need to go.”

  “Scott—”

  “Now! Get out of here!” He got up, marched into the bathroom and slammed the door.

  * * *

  Scott stared into the mirror at his harried expression: his cheeks red with anger, his eyes wild with fear. If the woman had any sense at all she’d be gone when he opened the bathroom door because the way he looked right now scared even Scott.

  If only he could escape himself, he mused, flipping on the tap. He splashed his face with cold water. This self-pity was starting to wear on him. He wasn’t that guy, the kind of man who let things happen to him without trying to defend himself. Yet with only part of his brain functioning, he felt more than a little frustrated.

  And lost.

  Except when he was looking into Bree’s beautiful green eyes.

  “That’s a side effect the brain trauma,” he told himself.

  It had to be. Women were not something you relied on for strength, at least that had been Scott’s experience. He practically raised both his mom and little sister after Dad had left, and as far as romantic relationships... He pinched his eyes shut, trying to remember something, someone.

  But only a high school girlfriend who broke it off when she went to college, and a few fleeting trysts filtered into his thoughts. Yet he thought there had been a more serious relationship.

  His head started to pound. “What difference does it make?” he muttered. Once the cops came and retrieved his gun, he’d be arrested for sure.

  He felt himself being sucked into the self-pitying vortex again and fought it. There was more at stake than Scott’s personal situation, a lot more.

  The doctors had warned him that a head injury could cause emotional highs and lows, anger issues and even symptoms of depression. Whatever. He didn’t have the luxury of suffering from such ailments.

  It was time to pull himself out of this funk and
face his situation head-on, without the help of his beautiful and caring crutch named Breanna.

  He finger-combed his hair back off his face and took a steadying breath. Somehow he needed to get his memory back. That had to be his primary focus.

  He opened the door to an empty bedroom. Good, she left as he’d requested. Still, he went into the main living area to be sure.

  An older man in his mid-sixties glanced up from analyzing the gun on the breakfast bar. “I’m Harvey, the resort security manager. Officer Carrington should be here shortly.” Harvey walked over and shook Scott’s hand. “Sorry to hear about your situation. Bree told me you don’t remember anything leading up to the assault.”

  “Bree, is she...?”

  “Gone. Got a SAR call.”

  “SAR?” Scott asked.

  “Search and rescue. A kid went missing on a field trip into the mountains. They called in the K9 team to assist, hoping the dogs could track her quickly. So—” Harvey sat at the breakfast bar “—want to tell me about this gun?”

  “Wish I could.”

  “Don’t remember much, huh?” Harvey pressed.

  “No, sir, although, I was a cop. I remember that much.”

  “Well, we have that in common.”

  “You were on the job?” Scott shifted onto a bar stool.

  “Yep, Seattle P.D. This is my official retirement.” Someone knocked on the door. “That’ll be Officer Carrington.” Harvey went to let him in.

  “Where is he?” an angry voice said.

  “Aiden, cool your jets.”

  Bree’s brother stormed around the corner and came at Scott. “You brought a gun into my resort?”

  Aiden grabbed Scott by the arm, ripped him off the bar stool and shoved him against the wall. Pain reverberated down Scott’s arm from the gunshot wound to his fingertips.

  “My sister was in this room, with a gun?” Aiden slugged him in the jaw and stars crossed Scott’s vision.

  “That’s enough!” Harvey pulled Aiden off of Scott.

  Scott swiped at his lip with the back of his hand and eyed his attacker. “I’m sorry.”

  That only infuriated him more. Aiden broke free of Harvey and pinned Scott against the wall yet again. This time he hesitated before striking.

  “Do it,” Scott said. “Just do it.”

  Scott deserved the beating and then some. He’d failed so many people in his life, and was about to fail a bunch more.

  Aiden glared, his jaw twitching with his struggle for self-control. Instead of hitting him, he let go with a jerk that banged Scott’s head against the wall.

  Stars fluttered across Scott’s vision again and his legs buckled.

  “Whoa, whoa,” Harvey said, gripping Scott’s arm and guiding him to the couch.

  Nausea rolled through Scott’s stomach as the room spun.

  He must have passed out because the next thing he heard was a rather intense interrogation of Bree’s brother, Aiden.

  “How hard did you hit him?”

  Scott cracked open his eyes. Officer Carrington was firing off the questions.

  “Not hard, I didn’t hit him that hard. At least I didn’t mean to.”

  “But you did, and now we’ve got two armed assailants running around Echo Mountain, a questionable firearm and the only one who could shed light on this case is out cold because of you. Give me your hands.” Officer Carrington ripped the cuffs off his belt.

  This was wrong. Scott understood Aiden’s motivation and didn’t blame him for being furious. Scott had put Bree in danger by letting her into his room, into his life.

  Aiden slowly offered his wrists to the officer.

  “No,” Scott croaked, sitting up and gripping his head. It ached worse than before. “It’s not his fault.”

  “He admitted to assaulting you,” Officer Carrington said.

  Squinting, Scott glanced at the officer. “A misunderstanding. I’m not pressing charges.”

  Aiden cocked his head as if trying to figure out Scott’s angle. But there was none. Scott wouldn’t be responsible for Bree’s brother being charged and taken into custody. She’d never forgive him, and for some reason her opinion of Scott meant a lot right now.

  Someone knocked at the door and Harvey opened it. “Chief,” he said in greeting.

  Chief Washburn marched into the room. “What’s going on?” he asked, glancing from Officer Carrington to Aiden, to Scott.

  “Supposedly a misunderstanding,” Officer Carrington said. “This is what I called about.” He handed an evidence bag to the chief with the gun tucked inside.

  “A .50 caliber Desert Eagle? Is it registered?” the chief asked.

  “I have no idea.” Scott massaged his temples. “If I carried registration it would have been in my wallet.” Scott glanced up. The chief and Officer Carrington hovered over him, wanting answers. Scott had none.

  He glanced at Aiden who sat in a chair studying the floor.

  “I would have done the same thing,” Scott blurted out.

  Aiden glanced at him.

  “That’s your job as a big brother. I get it. I’ve been there.”

  “Focus on the gun, Scott,” the chief said.

  Scott redirected his attention to the chief. “Sir, if I knew anything I’d tell you.”

  The chief’s phone beeped. He glanced at it and shook his head. “As long as you’re being honest,” the chief started, then pinned Scott with a serious frown. “You said you were a cop?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then how about telling us why the name Scott James doesn’t come up in any law enforcement databases?”

  * * *

  Bree and Fiona headed into the national park, teamed with Will Rankin. Will would focus on the map while Bree watched Fiona, looking for tell signs. Grace and her lab, Dodger, were accompanied by Griffin Swift, and three other SAR members followed along as well in case the missing child needed to be carried out on a litter. Bree had strapped on her mission-ready pack and was at the trailhead in a matter of minutes.

  As they hiked toward the last spot the child was seen, Bree inhaled the crisp mountain air, glad she’d noticed the text on her phone when she had. It gave her something to do, something productive and helpful after being ordered to leave by Scott.

  She suspected he pushed her away because he feared for her safety, which only made her respect him more. She knew how strongly he relied on her, so pushing her away must have been extremely difficult.

  “So how is he?” Grace said over her shoulder.

  “Who?”

  “The mysterious Scott? That’s who you were thinking about, right?”

  “That obvious, huh?”

  “Pretty obvious.”

  Grace was a lovely fortysomething woman with auburn hair, who acted like an older sibling A non-meddling older sibling.

  “Scott’s better, I guess.”

  “Must be scary, not remembering anything.”

  “It puts him in a very vulnerable position,” Bree said.

  “I can imagine.” Grace pulled out her topographical map encased in plastic and reviewed the area. “Should be right up here.”

  “The rest of the kids came down already?”

  “Yes, sheriff’s office didn’t want to risk more kids wandering off to find their friend so they ordered them to come back down. Here it is.” Grace hesitated and glanced back at her team. “Heather was last seen forty-five minutes ago in this general area. Ready?” Grace offered the article of clothing with Heather’s scent to each of the dogs.

  The three K9 handlers split up, heading into the thick brush of blackberries, devil’s club and rotting logs. Bree was glad to have Will as her partner. He had both field EMT experience and little girl experience, since he had two gi
rls of his own.

  Fiona was unusually excited today, perhaps because she didn’t get her twice-daily walks for the past few days and had extra energy.

  “That’s it, Fiona. Good girl,” Bree encouraged.

  “Heather!” Grace called out, although they all suspected the little girl must be unconscious or she would have answered to her teachers and friends calling out her name earlier.

  Bree glanced at the sky. They had plenty of daylight to work with, which was good.

  “At least it’s decent weather,” Will commented. “On my last mission it poured nonstop for five hours.”

  “Yikes, which one was that?”

  “The hiker that got separated from his buddies in Crystal Pass.”

  “Oh, right. That was a nasty day to be out.”

  “Bet you’re sorry you missed it.”

  “Very funny. Would have been there, but had a family thing.”

  “Well, my girls weren’t too happy with me when I went out on the call. I said I’d avoid SAR missions for the next month.”

  “Yet here you are.”

  “They’re with their grandparents.”

  “Why do you do this, anyway?” she asked. “I mean you’re so busy with work and your girls.”

  “I like to help, you know, find people.”

  Yes, she understood completely. It felt good to focus on helping someone else rather than ruminating about your own miseries and losses. Will had suffered his share of loss. His wife died of cancer, leaving him to be a single parent.

  And Bree? Adopting Fiona and joining SAR when she moved back to town kept her busy and focused on helping others instead of wallowing in her own shame.

  “It’s certainly a good feeling to be proactive and help people,” she offered.

  They’d been searching for a good half hour when Fiona started pulling hard on the leash and stuck her nose to the ground.

  “What is it, Fi?” Bree said.

  A splash of pink stuck out from the dark green brush up ahead. Bree stomped over wild blackberry bushes in an effort to get to Heather.

  Please, God, let her be okay.

  Fiona rushed to the little girl, sniffing and nudging. “Okay, girl, okay. Grace, we’ve located Heather, over,” Bree said into her radio.