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Covert Christmas

Page 18

by Hope White


  Regardless, he knew he had to finish what he’d started and not run like a coward...like his dad.

  This time he’d investigate the water issue without Bree at his side. It was the right thing to do, the best way to keep her safe and out of his dangerous business.

  * * *

  Scott rented a car and made good time to the river leading away from the plant to Lake Hawthorne. He wanted this to be a quick trip: get samples and head back to the resort without incident.

  And once he made it back would he see Breanna? Probably not, although his heart ached for her. He couldn’t remember feeling this way about a woman, especially not Christa.

  With Christa out of his life he was in a position to explore his relationship with Bree.

  “Not if you care about her,” he muttered, turning the corner of another switchback.

  At least he’d achieved his goal and got a water sample from the river leading to Lake Hawthorne. If his suspicions were correct, and the copper content was high, the Oppenheimer refinery plant was most likely the source of the toxins, which meant either one of Oppenheimer’s enemies had sabotaged the plant, or employee error had caused the pollution of area water sources.

  He’d take the sample to the authorities without involving Bree and putting her at risk.

  A little worn out from the afternoon hike, he dug in his pack and grabbed the bottle of water Christa had given him. It had been a nice gesture considering she’d come all this way only to have Scott end their relationship. She had class, he had to give her that.

  Something pricked the back of his neck—instinct. Scott eyed the valley below. Sure enough, the salt-and-pepper haired man with the blue baseball cap was headed in Scott’s direction. How was that possible? Scott was sure he hadn’t been followed.

  Scott picked up his pace, following the trail to an overlook where he could watch his pursuer from a hidden spot. A few minutes later “Rich” headed back down. He must have lost Scott’s trail and given up.

  As Scott started down the trail, a gust of wind nearly took him over the edge. He struggled to keep his balance. His vision blurred and his eyes watered against the chill. Was he dehydrated? He took another swig of water.

  In minutes the weather had gone from cool and sunny to cloudy with a wind that sucked the breath out of him. He’d have to take it slow. Staying close to the mountain wall, he took another step but the ground seemed to shift beneath him. Stumbling a few feet, he fought to maintain a sense of clarity, but everything seemed to blur together.

  Everything but the image of a seventeen-year-old kid who popped up out of nowhere.

  Miguel Domingo.

  Scott stopped, unsteady on his feet.

  “Miguel?”

  “Why did you let me die?”

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Scott collapsed.

  SIXTEEN

  The next morning Bree went into her kitchen and scanned the packages of sweets ready to be delivered. She’d decided to wrap the rest of them in Christmas tissue and make them official presents.

  She admitted to herself that she’d hoped Scott would be her Christmas blessing this year. How immature.

  He was gone, there was nothing left of him except a pair of wool gloves he’d forgotten yesterday.

  Her cell phone rang and her heart skipped, wanting it to be Scott, but she caught herself. He was out of her life. Forever.

  She picked up her smartphone. Not recognizing the number, she decided to answer anyway. “Hello?”

  “Hi, is Scott there?”

  “I’m... No, who is this?”

  “His sister. He said he’d be at this number for the next few days.”

  “Oh, hi, I’m Bree, his—” she hesitated “—friend. How are you feeling?”

  “He told you about my accident?”

  “Yes, and he was so worried. He wanted to rush back to Chicago but had some business he needed to resolve here in town.”

  “May I speak with him?”

  “He’s not here. His girlfriend came by yesterday and picked him up.”

  “Wait, Christa?” Emily asked.

  “Yes.”

  “That’s not right.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He told me they broke up last month.”

  “They didn’t seem broken up when she came to my place.” And kissed him and hugged him. “I wish I had Scott’s cell number but he lost his phone in the fall.”

  “That’s okay. I’m sure he’ll check in soon.”

  Bree heard the concern in Emily’s voice.

  “If you talk to him, could you tell him thanks for sending Detective Joe to check on me?” Emily said.

  “Sure.”

  “Are you...were you the woman who saved him?” Emily asked.

  “Well, I didn’t exactly save him, but I was on the rescue team that found him.”

  “It seems like you did more than that. Thanks, truly. My brother never lets anyone help him. It’s nice that he’s learning to rely on others for a change.”

  “It was my pleasure. Take care of yourself.”

  “You, too.”

  Bree hung up as Harvey came downstairs. He’d been rifling through her attic for more Christmas decorations.

  “Hey!” he called as he placed a box in the hallway. “Did you see the text?”

  She glanced at her phone and spotted the alert: 31 yo male hiker missing since night N of Lake Hawthorne meet at Rockland TH.

  Lake Hawthorne area? Odd, since that’s where she and Scott had been investigating.

  “Maybe you should sit this one out considering everything that’s going on,” Harvey said.

  Someone knocked at the door.

  “Those vultures still coming by for goodies?” Harvey winked.

  “It’s Nia! Open up!”

  Bree opened the door. “Hey, I already gave you your sweets.”

  “It’s Scott. He’s the missing hiker at Lake Hawthorne.”

  “No, he left for Chicago.”

  “He came back to the front desk yesterday afternoon, ordered a rental car and asked if I knew the quickest way to Lake Hawthorne. He made me promise not to tell you he was back.”

  “Why?”

  “He was trying to protect you.”

  “This doesn’t make any sense,” Bree said, pacing her front hallway. She stopped short, struggling with growing panic and eyed Harvey. “We have to find him.”

  “I’m not sure you should—”

  “Fiona knows Scott and likes him, a lot. We’ll find him quicker with Fi on the team, and we can use these to entice her.” She snatched Scott’s gloves off the hallway table and waved them at Harvey.

  “Okay.” Harvey put up his hands in surrender. “Get your gear.”

  Five minutes later, Bree and Fiona were climbing into the front seat of Harvey’s truck.

  “Be careful,” Nia said.

  “Will do. You should probably tell Aiden—”

  “He knows,” Nia interrupted. “He’s in the middle of a resort crisis or he’d join you on the mission. He feels horrible about not being there.”

  “That’s silly.”

  “That’s your brother.”

  “I’ll call him on the way.”

  Bree shut the truck door and they headed for the Rockland Trailhead. She still couldn’t believe Scott had taken off for Lake Hawthorne by himself. But then as his sister said, he wasn’t one to ask for help.

  Yet he’d been able to accept it from Bree.

  Bree hoped they’d get to him quickly. She feared another trauma to the head could leave him even more messed up and confused.

  Stay positive, she reminded herself.

  A definite challenge because she was s
o worried about Scott.

  The man she’d fallen in love with.

  The man who could be injured or worse. No, she couldn’t lose him this way.

  Lose him? She didn’t have him. Scott was already spoken for, committed to Christa, at least that’s how it had seemed when the redhead with the bright red lipstick and fake fingernails showed up yesterday.

  Scott had been on his way back to Chicago with Christa, yet returned to continue his search of mountain water sources. Why? Had he pieced together something else about the case?

  Whatever the reason, Bree would rescue him again, make sure he was okay and then say her good-byes, again. Her eyes burned with unshed tears at the thought.

  “I’m sure he’s fine,” Harvey offered.

  She sighed, focusing on the mountain range in the distance.

  He had to be.

  * * *

  Not only did Harvey partner with Bree to be her map reader, but off-duty sheriff’s deputy Nate Walsh, who she’d met at Healthy Eats, also joined them. Nate was an experienced climber and would be an asset to their team, especially if they encountered gunmen in the mountains.

  Multiple teams fanned out and began the search. Bree watched Fiona closely for behavioral clues, while Harvey consulted the topographical map to let Bree and Nate know what was up ahead.

  A few hours later Fiona’s behavior changed, and it wasn’t a good sign. She started tasting the fallen brush.

  “What’s she doing?” Nate said.

  “She’s stressed,” Bree answered.

  “Wait, the last time she did that—”

  “The victim was deceased,” Bree interrupted Harvey. She didn’t dare look at him for fear she’d lose it.

  Although Mom might consider Uncle Chuck a parental figure for her kids, Bree always felt closer to Harvey in that way. She knew an offer of compassion on his part could make her break down.

  They pressed on, Bree fighting the dread filling her chest. A few minutes later Fiona caught Scott’s scent so Bree let her off leash. Fiona raced out of sight. Bree, Harvey and Nate followed her off the trail into the brush.

  Harvey placed his hand gently on Bree’s shoulder. “Maybe I should go first?”

  Bree nodded and Harvey stepped around her. He went ahead of them, slogging over fallen branches and tree limbs. Harvey disappeared around the corner. Bree held her breath.

  Fiona bolted out of the brush, practically knocking Bree over.

  “What, girl? What is it?”

  “Over here!” Harvey called.

  Bree forged her way to Harvey and spotted Scott, dirty and disheveled, lying on the ground.

  “Is he...?”

  “He’s alive, but unconscious. We might have to carry him out.”

  “I’m okay, I’m awake, I’m...” He opened his eyes. “How did I get here?”

  Bree rushed to his side. “Are you hurt?”

  “Breanna, what are you doing here?”

  “We came to find you.”

  “We got an alert from Echo Mountain Rescue,” Harvey said.

  “Oh.” Scott’s brows furrowed in confusion.

  She didn’t like that look.

  “Can you stand?” Nate said.

  “I think so. Do I know you?”

  “We met at the restaurant the other day.”

  “The restaurant,” he repeated. “Right.”

  Scott seemed unusually disoriented. Had he suffered another blow to the head? He managed to get up on his own but wavered, so Nate offered his shoulder for support.

  “It’s at least an hour hike down. Are you up to it?” Nate asked.

  “Sure,” Scott answered.

  Nate led Scott out of the brush and back to the trail.

  Scott stopped short. “What about Miguel?”

  “Who?” Bree questioned.

  “Miguel Domingo. He was here....” His voice trailed off as he scanned the forest. “I can’t leave him here, alone.”

  Harvey shot Bree a look of concern.

  “Scott, we need to take care of you right now,” Bree said.

  He acted as if he didn’t hear her. She framed his face with her hands and turned him to look directly into her eyes. “Do you trust me, Scott?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then trust me when I say we need to get you to the hospital.”

  “You’ll be there?”

  “Of course.”

  “Okay.”

  * * *

  A few hours later Bree sat in the waiting area hoping for good news about Scott’s condition. Physically he was uninjured. His walking challenges seemed to be more about coordination than an injury to his legs. And the way they’d found him... It had looked as though he’d randomly decided to take a nap in the forest.

  Strange, since she assumed he’d gone out there to collect more evidence in the tainted water case. She’d ask him about the samples when he regained some clarity.

  Because when they found him, Scott seemed disoriented and foggy. He didn’t say much on the hike back to the car, or on the way to the E.R.

  It was almost as if his personality was absent, that he was a blank slate, although he was still determined about wanting Bree to stay close.

  Harvey walked up to her carrying two cups. He offered her one. “Got you some tea.”

  “Thanks.”

  “What do you think?” he asked.

  “About?”

  “Your guy in there. He didn’t seem right.”

  “I hope it’s not more head trauma,” she whispered.

  Harvey sat down next to her. “No sense making it worse than it is. Let’s wait and see what the doctors say.”

  She nodded, sipping her hot tea.

  Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Uncle Chuck headed her way. “Breanna, what brings you to the E.R.?” he asked.

  “A friend.”

  “Scott Becket?”

  “Actually, yes.”

  “What’s he done now?”

  “What are you doing at the hospital, Uncle Chuck?” she redirected.

  “Getting my gunshot wound checked out,” he said, cradling his arm. “Thought I might have ripped the stitches.”

  “Oh, no, are you okay?” she asked.

  “He’s tough, right, Chief?” Harvey said.

  Chuck frowned at Harvey. “I’m fine. But now that I see Breanna is here I’m worried.”

  “About?” She leaned back in her chair and sipped her tea.

  “Aren’t you tired of E.R.’s?”

  “Actually, they’ve got pretty good tea.” She smiled, not wanting to argue with Chuck about her being here for Scott.

  “Breanna McBride?” a nurse called from the examining area.

  “That would be me.” Bree stood and brushed past Chuck to the nurse.

  “Scott is asking for you.” She motioned Bree into the examining area.

  Uncle Chuck tried going with her, but the nurse stopped him. “I’m sorry, sir, just Breanna.”

  “I’m here if you need me,” Chuck offered.

  “Thanks,” she said and followed the nurse. As Bree approached Scott’s bed, he reached out for her. She took his hand and gave it a comforting squeeze.

  “Hey,” she said. “You scared us.”

  “Sorry.” He glanced at their entwined hands.

  “Don’t be sorry. I’m glad you’re okay.” She looked at the doctor. “He’s okay, right? No further head trauma?”

  “No, although we weren’t sure at first because of his impaired cognitive function. I’m running some blood tests to see what’s in his system.”

  “Oh, okay,” Bree said, perplexed. Scott hardly took pain relievers for his headaches. Why would the
doctors think he was on drugs?

  “The doctor says I can go,” Scott said.

  “Actually, what I said was I’d like to keep him overnight for observation, but I won’t force the issue,” the doctor said.

  “Scott, if the doctor thinks—”

  “I want to go home, Breanna. Take me home.”

  “To Chicago?”

  “To the resort.”

  She studied their hands.

  “Unless you don’t want me there,” he said.

  “I have another patient,” the doctor said. “I’d advise keeping an eye on Mr. Becket for twenty-four hours.”

  “Of course,” Bree said.

  The doctor disappeared on the other side of the curtain.

  “It’s okay,” Scott said, “I understand if you’d rather keep your distance.”

  “Don’t say that. You know how I feel about you.”

  “But?”

  “Your girlfriend showing up kind of threw me off.”

  “Ex-girlfriend.”

  “So it’s true?” she asked. “You remembered?”

  “Remembered what?”

  “Your sister called looking for you and said you and Christa broke up last month.”

  “Then why would Christa...?” He hesitated and frowned. “Oh.”

  “What?”

  “If there are drugs in my system, they got there because of Christa.”

  “How did that happen?”

  “I told her I was heading up into the mountains and she insisted I take her water bottle. If it was laced with something that means she’s working with whoever is after me and the evidence. Wow, they even got to her.” He leaned back against the pillow. “I don’t know which end is up anymore.”

  “Hey—” she touched his cheek and he opened his eyes “—take a breath.” They took a breath together, then another one. “It’s okay. I’m taking you home and we’ll figure the rest of this out.”

  * * *

  When they got to Scott’s hotel room, Bree suggested he stay at her cottage for the day so she could observe his behavior.

  “It’s not necessary,” he said, going through the chest of drawers looking for something. He couldn’t remember what.

  “I have to insist,” she said. “You shouldn’t be alone.” Her phone vibrated and she snapped it off her belt. “What is the deal today?”

 

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