The shooter probably thought there was only one way out, too. But he was wrong.
The fire escape door.
Did she have the strength to get Mark out safely?
The fire was spreading.
Putting her hands under his armpits, she pulled him down the hallway past her old room. Her muscles strained and sweat dripped from her forehead, but she moved as fast as she could. There was no time to waste.
In less time than she thought possible, she made it to the back bedroom.
Thank You, God.
She coughed. The cabin was filling up with smoke fast. She glanced down at Mark. He looked so pale. She leaned close, barely able to hear his breathing.
She wiped the sweat off her face, and then pushed against the dresser hiding the secret door. She bent down, unlatched and opened it. Cold fresh air. She took a deep breath.
Thank you, Granddad, for worrying about safety.
Another crash told her the shooter had thrown another Molotov cocktail through the last remaining window at the front of the cabin.
She glanced through the bedroom door. The hall was filled with smoke and just beyond it were the flames. The whole cabin would be burning soon.
She pulled Mark through the trap door and outside. The shock of the numbing, cold wind took her breath away. Mark would die from exposure in this temperature. She’d have to keep him warm while she went for help.
She scooted back into the bedroom, yanked blankets off the bed, and then tugged Mark behind the woodpile. It took a few seconds to bundle the blankets around him, and she tucked them under him as best she could. Peering from behind the wood pile at the burning cabin, she saw no one stirring.
She ran into the woods.
11
Holly hid behind a tree to catch her breath. Bright orange flames reached upwards into the black night sky.
People would see it and come to help.
But she couldn’t trust them. Someone wanted her dead—might have already killed Mark if she didn’t get help soon. That person could be right there among the emergency workers pretending to be worried about her. And she’d never know the difference.
She wouldn’t be safe until she found Robby.
But she couldn’t wait for Robby to find her. It was up to her to get out of this mess. No Robby. No Mark. She was on her own, but these woods were a familiar friend. As a child, she’d played in them with Robby.
She closed her eyes, letting her mind drift backwards to when she was a child.
His house was...she opened her eyes. That way.
Len would be there. And there would be a phone.
She could call Robby and then she’d be safe.
Sirens squealed. The firemen were coming.
Should she go back? Not everyone was the enemy.
She leaned against a tree.
What if she was wrong about this being the way to Robby’s house? It had been years since she’d been here.
She’d be safe with the fireman. And warm. And she could make sure they found Mark and got him to the hospital. Everything would be OK.
She stepped out from behind the tree.
A shot rang out, splintering wood above her head.
She ran into the darkness.
****
Every part of Holly’s body was numb. Her feet were frozen. It hurt to run, but she pushed forward. She stumbled and fell. A tree root bit into her palms as she hit the ground. Pain shot through her ankle and up her leg. She closed her eyes and moaned. Blood oozed from her fingers. She wiped them on her shirt, wishing she’d taken the time to put on a coat. She was freezing.
She crawled to the tree and used it as an anchor, but she couldn’t stand.
Failure wasn’t a luxury she could afford. The cost for Mark was too high. He needed medical treatment soon, or he would die.
Help me, God…I can’t do this without You.
On hands and knees, she crawled through the darkness. Hot tears froze on her cheeks as soon as they slid from her eyes.
The trees thinned and the moonlight shimmered as if she were in a frozen mirage. A darkened shadow blocked part of her view.
A fishing shack by the lake.
Relief flooded as she crawled towards it, finally knowing her location.
As children, Robby had brought her down to the lake to fish several times. The shack belonged to his family, and they kept plenty of fishing equipment in it. Back then, the small shack was never locked.
People used it whenever they wanted and replaced whatever they used. It was the neighborly thing to do.
But that was back then. People weren’t that neighborly any longer. It was probably locked.
She looked back into the woods.
There’d been no more shooting, but he had to be back there—following her, waiting for her to show herself again. Should she go to the shack or head straight to Len’s?
A path led from the lake to Len’s house. She could try to make it there, but if the shack wasn’t locked, it would provide protection from the cold and the storm—a place to rest. She was exhausted.
If the police fanned out to look for her, it’d be easier to find her there. She could tell them what happened and maybe get help faster for Mark.
Her gaze moved to the steep rocky path to Len’s house. She might not be able to make it up that steep path to Len’s. The last of her energy was almost gone.
But he had a phone.
Please God show me the right way.
Her gaze moved from the fishing shack to the rocky path and back.
She made her choice.
12
Her knees and hands had lost all feeling by the time she made it to the shack. She’d tried to keep weight off her leg as she hobbled, but then she fell and had to crawl the rest of the way.
The snow fell harder.
Using the door as an anchor, she stood. She grimaced as she put weight on the ankle.
In the moonlight, the padlock glistened.
She shivered and brushed snow from her face.
Exhausted or not, she had no choice but to go up the path to Len’s house—unless…she knelt in front of the door mat and brushed the snow away. No key.
Tears filled her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
She eyed the rocky path.
Maybe the key is above the doorjamb. Her gaze moved upward. It looked a mile away.
She stood on wobbly legs. As she pressed up on tiptoes, pain shot through her ankle. She ran a finger along the piece of wood, brushing away snow. There it was…a small, cold metal key. With trembling hands, she slipped the key into the padlock and turned it.
The lock broke open.
She wasted no time opening the door and hobbling inside.
The shelter from the howling wind and falling snow was wonderful.
Slivers of moonlight streamed through the doorway and windows. The place probably didn’t have electricity. At least it didn’t when she was a child.
Perhaps she could find a lantern or a flashlight. She searched the room and almost gave a shout of joy when she found a small heater instead. She flipped the switch. Within seconds, the heater glowed orange-red. Another switch turned on the blower. She limped over and closed the door to shut out the wind. Her clothes were soaked, her hands and feet so cold she worried about frostbite.
Mark’s face flashed in her mind.
Please, let the firemen find him. He shouldn’t die because of me.
She couldn’t stay here long. Once warm, she’d have to make it to Len’s farm.
She prayed that Mark would hang on until she got help.
Turning towards the other wall, her heart skipped a beat.
She put her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming.
13
Holly stood, mesmerized by the images of herself.
Like a bizarre fun house, pictures of her—of Destiny, had been glued to the wall. In concert, promo pictures, personal pictures, photos of her by her pool, of her walking out
her front door, coming out of the grocery store.
Her mind was as frozen as her feet had been minutes before.
She leaned back against the wall to relieve the pressure on her ankle. She had to be hallucinating. Her heart thumped. These bizarre pictures made no sense.
Robby was her stalker—he had to be.
Robby had brought her to this shack many years ago.
She replayed the images of the past few days.
Robby stopping her as she came to town. Robby just happening to recognize her as his childhood playmate, and then pretending to be surprised that she was Destiny.
Then the night the cabin was vandalized, he’d slipped out during the children’s program. He had more than enough time to destroy her property.
Closing her eyes, she remembered the smell when he’d hugged her. She’d assumed it was gasoline, but it might have been some kind of cleaner so he could remove paint from his hands—the evidence that he was the stalker.
It was her fault Mark was hurt—maybe dead. She doubled over and her head swirled. Her breathing grew ragged as fear raged.
Robby had accused Mark. Robby had guns—he was the chief of police. Had he shot Mark? If so, she’d played right into his hands and was running straight to him.
She’d thought they might have a future together.
But why shoot at her? She was here now and clearly interested in him, so that didn’t make sense. But with Mark dead, there’d be no rival.
“Holly,” a voice called. “Where are you?”
The door opened before she could move.
Len walked in.
She launched into his arms.
He hugged her close. “Are you OK? I’ve been worried to death about you. I saw the fire trucks go past the house, and then I saw the cabin. They wouldn’t let me close enough to check on you, but I heard them saying no one was in the cabin.”
“I’m...I’m...” Tears threatened to overcome, but she had to get far away from Robby. “I’m fine, but I need to leave. You’ve got to take me somewhere.”
“Where? Why? What’s going on?”
“It’s Robby. He shot Mark and burned down the cabin.”
His eyes widened. “You think Robb did that?”
“He’s the stalker. Look.” She pointed at the wall. “He acted as if he didn’t know I was Destiny, but he did. You told me so yourself.”
“That doesn’t mean he’s the stalker.”
“He’s been taking pictures of me for years. He shot Mark. I’ve got to go back and make sure the firemen found Mark. He’s hurt.”
“They did. I saw an ambulance take him. I can’t believe you think Robb did all this. Why would he?”
“I don’t know why!” she wailed. “But the proof is on the walls.” She pointed.
Len stared, but said nothing.
“You need to get me out of here and far away, and then I’ll call the sheriff’s department.”
“OK. No problem. Are you sure that’s the right thing to do?”
“Yes.”
“My car’s at the house. We’ll have to walk.”
“I hurt my ankle, so I’ll need some help.”
“Not a problem.” He held out an arm and she leaned against him.
“How did you find me?”
“After I saw the fire I ran through the woods to get to the cabin. I heard them say no one was in the cabin, so I went back to get my car, but I found your tracks and followed you.”
“Didn’t you see Robby out there? He was following me. He shot at me.”
“I didn’t see anyone except you, Destiny. Where’s your coat? It’s freezing.”
“I didn’t have time to get my coat.”
He handed his coat to her. “Come on let’s go. We’ve got to hurry. Before the snow blocks the road.” He opened the door, and they walked out of the shack.
A blast of cold air hit her in the face. She leaned closer, his arm propping her up.
A shadowed figure walked towards them. “Oh, there you are. I’ve been looking for you.”
14
“I’ve been worried to death.” Robby walked out of the shadows, a rifle in his hands. “Are you OK?”
“No. I’m not OK.” She couldn’t tear her gaze away from the gun.
“Of course you’re not OK. I meant are you hurt? Did you get burned?”
Holly stared at him, confused.
Robby was acting so normal.
“You shot Mark.”
“What are you talking about? I didn’t shoot anybody.”
“And you shot at me.” Her voice broke.
Robby stepped towards her. “You’re in shock. Let me help you. I’ll take you to the hospital.”
“Stay away from me.” She slapped him. “You shot Mark.”
Len moved closer to her. “Robb. You need to let us go. I’ll take care of her. We’ll get this all sorted out later.”
“What are you talking about? She needs to get to a hospital. At the very least, she’s in shock.” Robby moved towards them.
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
Len’s grip tightened on her arm.
She wiggled to relieve the pressure, but his hand stayed tight around her back.
Len’s voice was calm, but firm. “We’re leaving now, Robb. Don’t try to stop us.”
“What is wrong with the two of you?” Robby asked. Confusion shone in his eyes.
Anger coursed through her. He’d betrayed her. “I’ll tell you what’s going on. You’re the stalker. I found your photography collection.” She waved a hand at the shack.
“What are you talking about, Holly?”
“It doesn’t matter. Let’s go, Destiny.” Len pulled her towards the rocky path, but she wasn’t ready to go.
She had a few things she wanted to say to Robby. She wasn’t going to sneak away like some scared little rabbit.
He’d shot Mark.
She pulled away from Len.
“I won’t let him hurt you, Destiny.” Len grabbed her arm again and pulled her towards the steps up the hill.
“Holly, you need to stay calm.” Robby blocked them. “What photography collection?”
She twisted her arm, but Len didn’t let go, so she planted her feet and pointed. “The one in there.”
“There’s a photography collection in the fishing shack? Of you?”
Len tugged her again.
“There’s hundreds of pictures of me on the wall. Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.”
“I haven’t been in there in years. Even before I sold the property to Len. He’s the fisherman, not me. Ask him.”
“He’s lying.” Len’s tightening hold hurt her arm.
“I’m not lying.”
“I can’t believe anything you say. You acted as if you didn’t know I was Destiny. You pretended that was such a surprise when I told you. And the whole time you’d been following my every move for years. Are you going to lie about that, too?”
Robby’s gaze met hers. “I admit that. I knew who you were as soon as I saw your driver’s license, but I figured you were tired of people liking you because you were famous. I just wanted to get to know you, my childhood friend—Holly Stone. Not the famous country music star.”
And she’d wanted to get to know him. Holly stared at this man. The man she’d thought was her friend.
She looked between the two men.
The earnest flicker in Robby’s gaze reminded her of the day long ago when they were twelve and he’d pulled her out of the rushing water she’d fallen into. He was trying to reach for her now, in a different way.
Robby was her friend. He wouldn’t hurt her.
She took a step away from Len.
“Let’s go. We need to get out of here before he shoots you like he did Mark.” Len reached in his pants pocket and pulled out a handgun. He grabbed her arm and tightened his hold. “Don’t believe him, Destiny. He’s lying. It’s him. I’ll protect you. I’ll take care of you.”<
br />
She tried to step away, but he yanked her closer.
God, help me.
Len aimed the gun at Robby.
No, God, please…
“Don’t hurt him, Len. Please.”
“Only I can make you happy.”
Holly twisted out of his grip and lunged at him, hoping to push him to the ground.
In one quick movement, Len’s hold strangled her neck, and he pointed the gun at her head. “She’s mine.”
Robby took a step. “Len, you need to let her go. So I can help you.”
Movement at the side of the fishing shack caught her eye. Two more policemen walked closer with guns aimed at Len…and her.
Robby motioned for them to stay back.
She tried to breathe, but Len’s arm pressed against her throat. The world blurred as she fought for each breath.
“I don’t need help.” Len walked backwards, dragging Holly with him.
“Len, nobody’s going to let you leave. Surely, you can see that. I need you to put the gun down, buddy. I don’t want you to get hurt.” Robby’s voice was unruffled—almost soothing.
Her gaze met Robby’s calm one.
He had this under control.
She forced her muscles to relax—to not fight against Len.
Keep him calm.
Just the way Robby was doing. Let Robby do his job.
“I knew I could get her here. She just needed to remember she had friends in Serenity. I only wanted to help her remember. Help her remember she had friends here.”
“I remember, Len.” Holly’s voice rasped against his hold. “And I’m happy to be here, so you can let me go now.”
“You’ll sing at the Christmas Eve service for me, won’t you, Destiny?” His hold around her throat lessened. “I promised everyone a surprise. You’re the surprise.”
“I can do that, Len.” Her voice was a whisper. “I’ll sing. So you don’t need the gun. Put it down.”
His arm tightened on her neck once again, and she gasped for air.
“I know what you’re doing—what you want. You just want to go to him. I brought you here. I worked so hard to get you to town. I know I can make you love me. You just have to give me a chance.”
The Christmas Stalking Page 5
