Sabotaged

by Dani Pettrey

  Her smile widened, a playful glint dancing in her eyes. “Just as I always am.”

  He laughed. “Now there’s the bossy Kirra I know and love.”

  Her brows arched. “Love?”

  He tried to act cool, gave a casual shrug of his shoulder, praying the heat flooding up his neck didn’t show. “You . . . um . . . know what I mean.”

  “Right. It’s just a casual saying. Nothing intended. I get it.” She slipped her side braid behind her shoulder.

  He glanced at Officer Hoffman and back to the woman who’d stolen his heart. Perhaps it was time he told her. “Actually, I . . .”

  She stepped closer, her floral scent intoxicating.

  What was that? Jasmine? Whatever it was, she smelled incredible.

  “Yes?” she asked.

  His eyes locked on hers. “I—”

  “We’re done here,” the sketch artist said, walking smack into the middle of their moment—awkward on Reef’s part as it may have been.

  “Great.” He shoved his hands into his pockets as Belinda strode to their side.

  She slipped her purse strap over her arm. “Ready to take me back?”

  “I can take her,” Officer Hoffman offered. How long had he been standing behind them? How much of their conversation had he overheard?

  “Are you sure?” Kirra asked. “I mean it’d get us on the way to Kodiak faster, which would be great, but I don’t want to put you out.”

  Put him out. Reef couldn’t wait to be alone with Kirra again—to have her all to himself, even if it was just while working a case.

  “Anything for you,” Hoffman said. “Besides, I’ve got to patrol the protest every few hours.” He glanced at his watch. “The later-running fishermen will be returning with their day’s haul soon, and that’s when tensions rise. Best to have a police presence there, just to remind everyone to remain cordial.”

  “Wonderful.” Kirra rocked back on her heels. “Thanks.”

  Hoffman slipped his hat on. “No problem.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “As always, wonderful to see you.”

  “You too. Take care.”

  The officer turned to Belinda. “Ma’am.”

  She smiled, taking his arm as he proffered it in gentlemanly fashion.

  She glanced back over her shoulder. “Good luck.”

  “Thanks,” Reef said, stepping to Kirra’s side. He ached to wrap his arm around her slender waist, but he didn’t have the right—their relationship wasn’t there yet. Actually it was probably just wishful thinking on his part that they had any relationship at all. When Meg and Frank were safe, and this case over, he feared they’d go back to being nothing more than casual acquaintances.

  He studied the gentle slope of her neck as she slipped her burgundy scarf on.

  Man, he prayed he was wrong.

  So they’d brought the police into it.

  Anger seethed, burning through his chest, coiling his muscles as an officer helped Belinda into a patrol car. How much had the stupid broad told them?

  He gripped the steering wheel, hot air blowing from the rental car’s vents across his clenched fingers. He’d find out precisely what she told them, but that would have to wait.

  Readjusting his rearview mirror, he spotted Reef and Kirra exiting the station. They were the ones who’d perpetrated all of this—questioning Belinda, pulling the cops in, interfering with their plans.

  He reversed, pulling out of the precinct lot behind their rental car. They were going to pay, and the beauty of it was he simply had to sit back and watch.

  Reef pulled onto the main road, thankful they were finally making progress. With any luck, they’d make it to Anchorage by nightfall. He hoped Rain’s sketch would trigger a hit. They’d scanned it and then sent it on to both Jake and Landon, praying that before he and Kirra reached Kodiak they’d find a full identification—though that was being extremely optimistic.

  They needed something. Meg’s disappearance was wearing on Kirra, the fear for her uncle and cousin evident in her deep blue eyes, and he hated seeing the toll it all was taking. Not to mention what horror Meg may be going through. If only he could will things to go faster, figure out what was going on, know where to look, where to dig . . .

  Please, Father, I need your help. I need your guidance and direction. Please let me be of help to Kirra and her family. Direct us to Meg, and bring this nightmare to an end.

  He reached over and clasped Kirra’s delicate hand, half expecting her to pull away, but she didn’t. Instead a soft smile graced her pink lips.

  Reef shifted his full focus to the road ahead, or at least tried to.

  The pavement was crusted with a thick layer of ice, making the passage back to Anchorage difficult. On such short notice, it was tough finding a flight out of Seward to Kodiak, so the two-and-a-half-hour drive to Anchorage and quick half-hour flight on to Kodiak was the fastest route there. But focus was vital. The Seward Highway was known not only for its beauty—saltwater bays, frigid blue glaciers, and alpine valleys—but also for its knife-edge ridges and rock-fall potential making it one of the deadliest highways in Alaska, or as some considered it, the most dangerous stretch of road in the U.S.

  Neither he nor Kirra had much to say, so he focused on his driving, and they passed easily through the quiet town of Moose Pass and wound along the narrowing mountain walls of Canyon Creek, the seasonal steel-blue waters frozen solid.

  “So . . . you were saying . . . ?” Kirra prompted. Her heart had been racing with anticipation ever since their interrupted conversation in the Seward police station. Had Reef been about to say he felt more for her than simple friendship? The sheer delight that spread through her at the tantalizing prospect hadn’t stopped dancing a jig through her limbs. It was all she could do to sit still. He needed to finish that sentence and fast.

  “Saying what, exactly?” he asked, looking rather nervous.

  It was adorable. She’d never seen Reef McKenna nervous, and the thought it could be because of her felt amazing. But maybe she was getting her hopes up for nothing. Maybe she needed to settle down. But she couldn’t help herself. She hadn’t felt like this since . . .

  She swallowed hard.

  Reef arched a brow. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” She shook off the fear, or at least tried to. What William had done to her had controlled her life long enough. It was time she took it back.

  Reef’s gaze fixed on her momentarily, then back on the steeply inclining road. “So . . .” He cleared his throat. “About our earlier conversation . . .”

  “Yes?”

  The soothing evergreen scent of his aftershave filled the compact car—reminding her of home, where her shelter and practice was surrounded by pines. “I feel like we’ve gotten to know each other much better, and . . .”

  She found herself leaning in to him. “And?”

  “And I hope when all of this is past us, and your cousin and uncle are safe, that our spending time together like this isn’t over.”

  “Really?” She tried to maintain her excitement.

  “Yes.” He looked down at his right hand covering hers, caressing her skin between his thumb and forefinger. “I’d like to start seeing you as more than a friend.”

  Disappointment weighed heavy on her heart. So he didn’t already view her that way?

  “Because the truth is,” he continued, “I already do.”

  Joy bubbled up, fizzing through her. “You do?”

  He nodded, his gaze dropping to her lips, and then quickly back to the road.

  “That’s good,” she said, summoning all the braveness she could muster, ignoring the fear pricking at her—because she could feel in her gut this was right. She’d prayed for the right man to come into her life, and God had brought Reef—crazy as it was.

  “It’s good?” His smile widened.

  “Yes.” She exhaled her fear. “Because I do too.”

  “Really?” he asked as they began the thousand-f
oot decline through Turnagain Arm. “No interest in anyone else?”

  She shook her head. “Only you.”

  He smiled, but something stole it away. Was that panic?

  “What’s wrong?”

  He clamped the wheel tight, struggling against it as the car banked hard right, straight for the side of Placer River Bridge.

  “Reef?” she screeched, bracing her hands on the dash.

  “I can’t control the steer—”

  Impact with the guardrail cut off his words, the hood of the car jutting over the edge of the bridge and tipping downward. “Hold on,” he yelled as they plunged into the frigid Alaskan water.

  Please don’t let this be it, Lord. Not when he’d just found Kirra, when he’d just gotten his life on the right track. Discovered what mattered.

  Despite the swell of panic flooding him, he trusted the Lord. If it was his time to go, then he willingly went. It was amazing how far the Lord had brought him over the past year—to a place of deep security in and dependence on his Savior.

  The rapids were bone chilling, but he was confident he could last the few minutes it would take to reach shore. Growing up swimming in Alaskan waters had accustomed him to the cold.

  Darkness smothered the light. Water swirled feverishly around them, marring his vision.

  The open window allowed the water to pulse in at an unrelenting pace, but it maintained a route of escape against its forceful pressure. Kicking the window out with both feet, he reached for Kirra, her hair a tangled, floating mess about her face. Her arms floated above her head—leaving his gut in his throat. She was unconscious.

  Wrapping an arm around her chest beneath her arms, he swam, pulling her through the open window, kicking hard against the force of the water rushing in. Finally free of the vehicle, he furiously swam for and broke the surface.

  The frigid air burned his lungs more than holding his breath had. He coughed, water gurgling up his throat.

  “Kirra,” he choked out, swiping her hair from her face.

  Her eyes were open wide, but she wasn’t breathing. Spotting the riverbank twenty yards to his right, he swam.

  Reaching shore, he carried Kirra up, laying her flat on the rocky surface. “Come on, honey.”

  Someone hollered that help was on its way. He glanced up, a figure on the bridge catching his eye. A man, his shoulders taut, his stance hard. Was it the man who was chasing them?

  Turning back to Kirra, he bent, listening for breath. None.

  He tilted her head back. “Don’t die on me, Kirra.” Clearing her airway, he began CPR, his lips pressing against her cold ones. “Come on.”

  It took several seconds, which seemed an eternity, but finally she coughed, curling toward her side, expelling murky water onto the gray rocky shore.

  Thank you, Jesus.

  He scooped her in his arms, cradling her against his chest. A man slid down the steep bank to their side, his boots kicking up snow and sleet in his wake. It wasn’t the same man he’d seen on the bridge.

  Reef glanced back in that direction, but that man was gone.

  16

  Red lights swirled in disorienting patterns as Kirra sat in the ambulance with Reef, thick green blankets brought by the EMTs draped over her, their scratchiness incongruent with their sickeningly sweet floral fabric softener scent.

  Reef’s arm was draped across her shoulders—shoulders hunched and trembling.

  She was tired of being cold. Tired of being chased. Tired of being threatened.

  Father, let this end.

  Not yet, my child.

  Why not?

  It isn’t time.

  She fought the urge to nuzzle into Reef’s chest and allow the tears buried deep inside to finally spring forth. After what had just occurred, any onlookers would attribute her reaction to the near drowning. But she couldn’t let go. Not yet.

  Why wasn’t she ready to fully release all the pent-up sorrow and pain? Because she feared if she fully acknowledged what she’d been holding inside for so long, it would overwhelm her, flood her, and she’d break. She wasn’t strong enough. She was getting by, but healing took work, courage, strength she didn’t have.

  Reef rubbed her arm. “You doing okay?”

  She nodded. Despite the pain, despite the shame, she always managed to keep her chin up. Maybe she had a little bit of her grandma Alice’s hutzpah, as her aunt Sarah always called grandmother’s special strength and vivacity. Even in her death Alice had gone with style—the only person in the hospital to wear a purple silk robe over the required gown, and a rhinestone flower pin in her thinning hair. She’d held her own right until the end, when she’d whispered, “Off to the next adventure” with her last breath.

  Kirra gazed around at the ambulance lights bouncing like red fireflies off the icy road’s surface. She supposed this—terrifying as it might be—was a kind of adventure. It was definitely a journey, and she was paired with the least-expected yet truly perfect companion. She couldn’t have asked God for a better one.

  Kevin Hoffman hurried around the end of the steadily growing vehicle line and climbed into the ambulance. “Kirra, I came as soon as I heard.”

  “That’s sweet, but I’m fine. Really.”

  He squatted beside her, concern fast on his face. “What happened?”

  “The steering went out,” Reef explained.

  Kevin’s brows arched. “Malfunction?”

  Reef looked down at Kirra, confirmation in his eyes. They were both thinking the same thing. Might as well say it.

  “I . . .” She looked at Reef. “We think it was the man who’s been following us.”

  “Following you?” Kevin said, confusion and alarm filling his voice. “You never said anything about someone following you.”

  “We weren’t sure . . .”

  “Until now,” Reef added. “I saw him standing on the bridge when we came out of the water.”

  “You saw him?” Kirra asked, turning to look up at him. “But we don’t know what he looks like. Are you sure?”

  Reef nodded. “When I saw him, how he was looking at us—angry and stiff—I just knew.”

  “But you’ve seen him before?” Kevin asked.

  “We didn’t see his face, but he tried to gun us down back at the race.”

  Kevin’s mouth gaped. “Gun you down? Kirra, why didn’t you tell me?”

  “It didn’t seem pertinent.”

  “Not pertinent? Someone tried to kill you and is following you. How could that not be pertinent?”

  “I’m sorry, Kevin. I was just focused on finding Meg.” She had to.

  “We didn’t know for certain he was still after us,” Reef said.

  Kevin swallowed and stood. “I see. Well, I’ll need you two to come back into the station and file a report.”

  “There’s no time for that,” Kirra said, anxiety gripping her. “We need to get to Kodiak. We’ve already lost too much time.”

  Kevin looked to their car being towed out of the river. “Doesn’t look like you’ll be going anywhere anytime soon.”

  “Our next lead is in Kodiak. That’s where we need to be.”

  “I understand,” Kevin said, “but you need to file a report. I promise I will expedite the process.”

  Urgency flared in her throat. “But we’re running out of time.” Didn’t he understand that?

  “Kevin’s right,” Reef said. “We need to file a report and update Jake about what’s going on. Besides, we need a new rental car. Don’t worry—we’ll be back on the road in no time.”

  “Actually,” Kevin said, “I can do better than that.”

  Kirra reclined in her seat on the small floatplane, thankful Kevin had called in a favor. Russell Grant was taking them in his plane, directly to Kodiak.

  Kevin had held true to his word—getting their report down quickly, connecting with Jake and Landon to help run a coordinated operation, and providing her and Reef with dry clothes as well as much-needed cell phones. Within a coup
le hours, they were on their way.

  She shifted, pulling the wool sweater sleeves over her hands.

  “You still cold?” Reef covered her with a fleece blanket—soft and blue. She nodded, doubting she’d ever feel warm. The chill of the water still clung to her bones.

  He cupped her face in the palm of his hand, his skin warm, his touch commanding yet tender. “I’m sorry you’re having to go through this.”

  She leaned into his touch. “I’m just glad you’re with me.”

  “Me too.” He caressed her cheek, his fingers brushing her skin in a featherlight motion.

  His gaze dropped to her mouth and then quickly back to her eyes.

  A soft, anticipatory smile tugged at her lips.

  He leaned in, bringing his mouth to hers. His lips were soft, tentative.

  She swayed into him, and he deepened the kiss, sending warmth rushing through her body.

  Reef took her hand in his as they walked through the small metal-frame building serving as Kodiak’s terminal, and his touch felt divine. She’d kissed Reef McKenna—twice now—and her heart hadn’t stopped fluttering. The emotions coursing through her brought with them an exhilaration she couldn’t quite describe, but she supposed the word giddy came closest.

  She was giddy over kissing Reef McKenna. In high school she’d occasionally allowed herself to daydream about what it would be like, dreamed about him grabbing her, pressing her up against the lockers, and kissing her passionately, but this was so much better. This kiss wasn’t a random act of passion; this kiss had been saturated with meaning and promise.

  Unfortunately the purpose of their visit hit her anew as Kodiak’s bracing sea wind lashed her cheeks upon exiting the building.

  She and Reef weren’t on a date. They weren’t in Kodiak on some romantic daytrip. They were here to track down the past of an uncle she’d thought she’d known. An uncle she’d depended on. An uncle who wasn’t what he’d seemed.

  She clasped Reef’s hand tighter and prayed God would supply them both with the strength needed to face whatever lay before them. Because she certainly didn’t have it in herself.