Sabotaged

by Dani Pettrey

  Jake opened the throttle on the snowmobile as he entered the woods blocking any view of the ground from the Iditarod pilots searching for Brad Abbott.

  Kayden had dropped him at the Grayling checkpoint, where he and two other volunteers had climbed on snowmobiles to begin an adjacent ground search for the missing musher.

  The temperatures were holding at around five below, but Jake’s internal fire had been set aflame. The thought of someone posing as Iditarod staff—or even worse, someone who actually was part of the Iditarod staff—watching them chewed him up.

  He had Darcy running a background check on Xander Cook while they were searching for Abbott. Perhaps the relative newcomer had a few red flags in his background.

  The thick patch of woods surrounding him provided an effective shield from the grueling winds plaguing this portion of the race route.

  Animal tracks on top of sled ruts showed it had been some time since a musher had passed this way. Jake slowed to study the freshest tracks of the bunch. A bear had rumbled past within the last hour, and a trail of blood leading into the woods said he’d had a recent kill.

  Something in his gut prompted him to stop. He turned off the snowmobile, climbed off, stretched, and then proceeded to follow the blood trail.

  A handful of steps in, Kayden’s voice broke over the radio.

  He moved it to his mouth. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

  “Abbott’s team just pulled in to the Eagle Island checkpoint.”

  “Oh, thank goodness.” He’d started to imagine the worst.

  “Jake . . . his team pulled in, but not Abbott.”

  Concern tracked through Jake. “What?”

  “Ben just radioed. Apparently, the team was pretty shaken and tangled up, but they stuck to the course as trained.”

  “Anything to indicate what happened to Abbott?” Mushers sometimes fell off their sleds and weren’t able to stop their teams. Perhaps that was the worst of it, but the uneasy feeling tugging at his insides said otherwise.

  “No, but Ben said one of the volunteers still camping out there saw what he believes is dried blood on the sled mount.”

  Jake swallowed and turned his attention back to the blood trail. He exhaled. “Let me call you back.”

  SEWARD AIRFIELD

  MARCH 16, 9:16 A.M.

  “Another musher is missing?” Kirra asked as she and Reef boarded the . . . third . . . no fourth . . . ? She shook her head. She couldn’t even remember how many planes they’d boarded since this nightmare had started. She and Reef were headed back to Anchorage, where Kayden would be making a dog drop after the search for the missing musher was over, and she’d fly them back to the heart of the race.

  “Yeah, he called right before we left.”

  “Did he say who it is?”

  “Brad Abbott,” Reef said, settling in beside her. “You know him?”

  “He’s one of the new guys. Well, relatively new. I think he’s run the past couple years.”

  “Older? Younger?”

  “Forties. Teacher, I think.”

  “How’d he finish the past few years?”

  “Couldn’t tell you exactly, but nowhere near the top.”

  “So it’s possible he’s fallen behind or encountered some difficulty?”

  “Sure. I suppose, why?”

  “Gage seemed spooked when he called.”

  She shifted to face Reef better. “Spooked, how?” That wasn’t a term usually associated with the go-with-the-flow Gage.

  “I don’t know. It’s like he thought someone may be listening. He spoke in basics.”

  “Do you think something happened to make them even more certain they are being watched and reported on?”

  “Maybe. I wonder who it is?”

  She hated to imagine. Volunteering with the Iditarod for years—starting as a teen with her dad—she couldn’t imagine someone working by her side could be capable of kidnapping her cousin, or working with the men who had. “You told him what we learned from Sam—about the car and the cabin?”

  Reef nodded. “Of course.”

  “What did Jake think?”

  “He wasn’t there. He’s already out searching for Abbott.”

  “And Frank?”

  Reef shook his head.

  So for the time being they were on their own in the search for her cousin and uncle.

  “Did you ask about what was found at the other pump stations?”

  “Yes. No word from Jake’s contact yet.”

  She took a deep breath and released it, along with her anxious thoughts, finally verbalizing them. “I’m afraid we’re running out of time.”

  “I know.” He cupped her face, caressing her cheeks. “But we won’t give up until we find them. I promise.”

  She smiled, knowing he meant it from the bottom of his heart. “I believe you.” She truly did. “But what if we’re too late? What if they’re already . . .”

  “We need to pray we make it in time.”

  She closed her eyes and they prayed, asking God to provide a miracle, because that seemed their only hope for a good outcome.

  With trepidation, Jake continued following the blood trail. With each step, the burden on his spirit increased. Before he stepped beyond the last copse of trees obstructing his view, he knew what he would find. Finally he stopped. He squeezed his eyes shut as he stood over the mauled body of Brad Abbott.

  30

  They’d only had to wait three hours for Jake and Kayden to arrive. When they did, their grim expressions said they had horrible news.

  Kirra rushed toward them. “What happened?”

  “Let’s talk on the way,” Jake said.

  “I’m so thankful you were able to pick us up,” Kirra said. Otherwise reaching the Unalakleet checkpoint could have been tricky, especially with another storm threatening to hit—soon.

  “We were already in Grayling as part of the search for Brad Abbott and after Jake’s discovery . . .” Kayden swallowed.

  “Discovery?” Reef asked, just as she was about to.

  “Brad Abbott was mauled by a bear,” Kayden said.

  Kirra’s chest rose with a sharp intake of breath. “How awful.”

  “I think he was fortunate, in a weird way . . .” Jake looked embarrassed to have said that but then continued, “Mauling would be a horrible way to die”—he settled into the copilot seat beside Kayden—“but I’m pretty sure he was dead before the bear reached him.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “There wasn’t nearly the amount of blood I would expect if he were mauled alive.”

  Kirra blanched. “You don’t think . . . ?” That the men responsible for kidnapping her cousin had killed Brad Abbott to create a diversion. Things were escalating, and fast.

  “Yes, I do think. I think someone close to us is a plant,” he said. “My bet is on Xander, but it could be anyone. I think the men responsible for your cousin’s kidnapping were concerned we were getting too close to the truth, and they wanted to divert us from the trail for a while.”

  “Poor Brad.” Her heart went out to the man and his family.

  Reef clasped her hand, steadying her. “What about the other pump stations?” he asked. “Any word?”

  “Yes.” Jake sighed. “Andrew just called, and the pump station between Iditarod and Shageluk is also rigged to overheat and blow.”

  Kirra swayed into Reef as the full impact of what that meant hit her.

  Reef ushered Kirra into the Unalakleet checkpoint and waited for Kayden and Jake to enter before closing the door on the howling storm behind them. They moved farther into the front room and joined Gage and Darcy as they sat in a grouping of chairs in front of the fire. Reef was thankful to be back with the race—and hopefully closer to finding Frank and Meg.

  The winds had picked up to nearly forty miles per hour. It was a wonder Kayden had been able to safely land the plane. Snow had been falling since Anchorage, the deluge growing in intensity as they touched down. Well, sk
idded down was more like it. His sister was a gifted pilot, but he couldn’t help feeling God had been watching out for them—that He had been ever since the start of the race.

  Reef had felt Him spurring him on as he declared his love for Kirra, felt Him guiding them to Joseph and Jason Keller—whose name Darcy had been able to recently confirm—and he prayed He would guide them to Meg.

  Kirra shivered beside him, and he put his arm around her. “Your jacket is wet. You should take it off and sit by the fire.”

  She moved to sit by the stone hearth. The Unalakleet checkpoint was one of the cozier along the circuit, and with the harsh and burgeoning winds outside, Reef was thankful to be in it.

  Ethan stepped in the room with three mugs in hand. “Heard you were coming back.” He handed the first mug to Kirra. “Thought you guys could use something hot.” He handed the remaining two mugs to Reef and Kayden. “I’ll go grab one for you, Jake.”

  Reef cupped the mug. “Wait. How’d you know we were coming in?”

  “I heard Gage talking with Kayden on the radio as she was bringing you down. Quite a bit of flying, little lady.”

  Reef sat uneasily as Ethan exited the room, wondering just what else he may have heard. But Ethan had been part of the Iditarod for years, according to his siblings. Jake was right—if they had a spy in their midst, it was far more likely the relative newcomer Xander Cook.

  Kirra leaned forward, desperation heavy on her pinched brow. “Please tell me one of you has heard from Hoffman or Landon with a solid lead on Meg’s location.”

  “We have more information on Jason Keller,” Darcy said as Gage kept his gaze fixed on the door, making sure no one was lingering in the hall.

  “What can you tell us about him?” Reef asked, stretching out beside Kirra, kicking his boots off to let the fire warm his feet.

  “He’s an accountant, most recently living in Anchorage.”

  “An accountant?” Kirra frowned. “And living in Anchorage. What on earth is his tie to Nome or any of this?”

  “It’s definitely taking some digging,” Darcy said, retrieving her laptop from her satchel. “But”—she turned on the Mac—“it looks like the Keller family is from Nome. And here’s the interesting part. . . .”

  Kirra leaned forward, and Reef rubbed her back, thankful to find her sweater dry and warm.

  “Jason’s father, Stanley Keller, died not long after NorthStar purchased a huge section of the land for their pipeline project.”

  “Okay . . .” Reef said, his brows furrowing. “Was any of it owned by the Kellers?”

  Darcy smiled. “A bunch of it.”

  “So do you think this is about more than the environment?” Kirra asked. “Perhaps some revenge mixed in?”

  “That’s what I’m thinking,” Darcy said. “But I’m going to have to do a little more digging on the Keller family to be sure.”

  “In the meantime,” Jake said, rezipping his coat and slipping his gloves back on, “I’m meeting Andrew back out at the Iditarod station. We’ve got to come up with a response plan in case we can’t prevent Frank from remotely triggering the codes or, more than likely, handing the trigger over to Jason Keller.”

  “And Meg?” Kirra asked.

  “We’re searching for property still owned by Jason Keller,” Darcy said. “So far nothing but a family home in Nome is showing up. It’s in the middle of town, so it wouldn’t be the cabin Sam Matthews mentioned, but Landon is contacting the local police to have it checked out.”

  “Have you searched under the father’s name?” Reef suggested. Oftentimes titles took a while to get properly changed.

  “Good idea.” Darcy smiled. “Searching now . . .” Her fingers glided over the keypad. “It’s going to take me a bit to comb through the records.”

  Kirra rubbed her arms. “Any sign of Frank?”

  Reef hated the heartache he heard in her voice. If only he could fix this, somehow make everything better.

  Please, Father, protect us. You are in control. I beg your mercy and protection. Don’t let these men succeed.

  The Lord replied silently in Reef’s heart. “Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God.”

  Reef reaffirmed, We are trusting in you, Lord. He would carry them through.

  “I’m sorry,” Kayden said, moving to sit on the hearth beside Kirra. “No sign of him recently.”

  “Which station do you expect him to sabotage next?” Reef asked.

  Jake looked at the race map, comparing it to the pump station locations they’d received from NorthStar. “I’d say this one—fifteen miles outside of Shaktoolik.”

  “Kayden, can you get us out there?” Kirra asked. “If we can reach it before Frank and wait inside . . . maybe we can at least catch him and update him on what’s going on. And, maybe, just maybe, we can convince him to relinquish the trigger.”

  Jake lifted his hood. He was probably cutting it close for his meeting with Andrew, but he kept on subject. “I imagine he’ll only do it if he truly believes Meg’s no longer in danger. And unfortunately, until we find her, that’s not the case. But we won’t give up.” He looked to Darcy. “Find me that cabin.”

  “Sam said they probably already moved her.” Kirra bit her bottom lip to keep it from quivering.

  Reef’s heart broke. He loved her so deeply. Seeing her in pain was infinitely worse than experiencing it firsthand. If only . . .

  Please, Father. Give me the strength necessary to be the man Kirra needs. I’m ready to take the plunge, to be fully dependent on you.

  “Sam may have been bluffing,” Jake said.

  “And if he wasn’t?”

  “Then they would have left in a hurry, and that means they could have left a trail behind.”

  31

  Gage tugged at Kayden’s arm, the scope fixed in her hand as they crouched in the waist-deep snow, a hundred and fifty yards outside the Shaktoolik pump station. “Let me see.”

  “Stop being so impatient.” She swatted his hand away, then cocked her head. “Do you hear that?”

  “Hear what?” He stilled, listening. “Snowmobile?” He frowned. “We better go take a look.”

  Shockingly Kayden agreed, and without argument followed him across the frozen terrain.

  Moving felt good, blood and warmth pumping through his cold legs as they neared the east side of the station, where he thought he’d heard the snowmobile stop.

  Gage crouched in the bushes beside his sister, his chest tightening at the sight of the unmanned snowmobile. Whoever had arrived was most likely already inside. Was it the man who had been following Frank? Was he still on his trail? Had they missed Frank’s arrival?

  Kayden reached for her sat phone. “I’ll call Jake.”

  “Good.” He stood. “I’m gonna head in.”

  “Wait!” She tugged his arm.

  “What?”

  “You don’t know what’s going on in there. We don’t want to do anything that could possibly endanger Reef and Kirra more.”

  “What do you suggest?”

  “First, we disable the snowmobile, so even if whoever is inside makes it out, he’ll have nowhere to go.”

  “Nice plan,” a man said, right as something hard thwacked into the back of Gage’s head and everything went dark.

  Kirra huddled next to Reef inside the concrete pump station outside of Shaktoolik, praying they’d chosen correctly. Kayden had flown them in, and if they weren’t careful, the storm would quickly snow them in. Frank had better show—and soon.

  Kayden and Gage were positioned outside with scope in hand, keeping an eye on the station, watching for Frank.

  Darcy had remained at the checkpoint, digging through online files and trying to connect with the Records Department in Nome.

  Jake was on his way to meet with Andrew Ross at the Iditarod pump station—close to a hundred and twenty-five miles away as the crow flies.

  Kirra desperately prayed at least one of them wo
uld have good news, but the unsettling motion writhing in her belly suggested otherwise.

  “He’ll be here,” Reef said, rubbing her tightly coiled neck.

  She nodded, thankful for his touch and comfort. “I pray you’re right.” But even if her uncle showed, how would he react? Surely he had to realize the madness of rigging the stations. If they could just talk to him . . .

  But what if it wasn’t enough? What if he wouldn’t give up the kidnappers’ assignment?

  She looked at Reef, wondering, if it were her being held hostage, would he do as the kidnappers demanded, or would he refuse and pray for God’s intervention?

  What would she do if she were in Frank’s shoes? She’d like to think she’d do the right thing—go to the police, try and find Meg, but definitely not endanger all the lives Frank was by rigging the pumps.

  The front door opened, a cold gust of wind blowing snow in above them—the flakes dropping through the metal catwalk overhead. Boots clanged along the walkway, heading for the stairs.

  Kirra held her breath. Here goes nothing.

  The man turned, moving down the steps with precision . . . dragging . . . a body . . . behind him?

  Horror engulfed Kirra as she stepped from the shadows. “Uncle Frank?” What have you done?

  The man released the body and stood there, a gun in his hand, hood hiding his face. “Afraid not, sweetheart.”

  Jason Keller drove the thirty miles to the ghost town of Solomon, passing the last train to nowhere with his cargo in the rear of his vehicle.

  Solomon. It seemed a fitting place for Frank and his daughter to die.

  His family had once thrived in this shadow of a town, had once owned the surrounding land before NorthStar scooped it up, but he’d be getting it back—at least the vital part of it. And nothing—or no one—would derail his plans again.