The Christmas Target

by Shirlee McCoy

  “Dad said we needed to. He said the guys you had with you were snooping around, and he didn’t want to cause any trouble for Larry. He and Derrick—”

  “Who’s Derrick?” Cooper asked.

  “Derrick Smith. He and Dad go way back. They were buddies in the army. When they got out, they both got married and lived right next door to each other. When my mom died, Derrick’s wife kind of stepped in and mothered me. She left him a couple of years ago, and he and Dad started thinking up schemes to get money and open their own business. That’s how all this started.”

  “Is Derrick living in town?” Cooper asked, and Karen shook her head.

  “No. He lives in Florida. Where we came from. He came up here a few weeks ago for a visit. He’s renting a little cabin in the mountains. One of those hunting lodges.”

  “Have you been there?” Stella asked, all her thoughts suddenly sharply focused. A cabin would be the perfect place for Camden and Derrick to take Beatrice. The perfect place to get what they wanted and discard what they didn’t.

  And, of course, they wouldn’t want Beatrice.

  Not once they got what they needed from her.

  Bank account information, maybe?

  Would she remember that?

  What would they do if she didn’t?

  “I was there once. He doesn’t even have hot water or heat. Just a wood stove that he has to keep lit.” She wrinkled her nose, brushed a smudge of dirt from her pants. “I was going to meet them there after I returned Beatrice’s things.”

  “Kid,” Dallas cut in, his frustration obvious. “You weren’t returning anything.”

  He was right about that. Karen had nearly dropped a flowerpot on Stella’s head, and she’d gloated about her victory.

  Obviously, she wasn’t as innocent as she’d like everyone to think.

  But maybe she wasn’t as guilty as she looked.

  She seemed willing to share some information, and Stella was willing to listen.

  “I was, too,” Karen protested. “Anyway, we were going to drive from there to Florida. Straight shot. No stops. That’s what Dad said. I’d have rather stayed here, but with the shop closed—”

  “There’s an old hunting lodge twenty minutes west of here,” Trinity suddenly said, her gaze on her phone. “Looks like they rent cabins during hunting season.”

  “That’s probably the place,” Karen said. “No one is there right now. I can tell you that.”

  “Your father is,” Stella responded, just barely managing to hold in her anger. “Call him. Ask him about Beatrice.”

  “He doesn’t have your grandmother! Besides, if I call him, he’ll know something is wrong. He’ll hear it in my voice. We’re really close, and—”

  “Then text him. Ask if Beatrice is okay.”

  “But—”

  “Do it,” she demanded. “Because I’m the one who’s been most hurt in all of this, and I’m the one who gets to decide whether or not to press charges.”

  Karen scowled, pulling the phone from her pocket and sending a quick text. Seconds later, her phone buzzed. She glanced at it, her face going white.

  “I swear, I didn’t know—” she began.

  Stella snatched the phone from her hand and read the text.

  No worries, hun. The old lady is fine. Go ahead and hang out at the hospital for a while. Don’t want anyone getting suspicious, right? Derrick and I have some business to take care of. Meet us at the cabin at midnight. You packed?

  “He’s got her,” she murmured, handing the phone back.

  The room was buzzing. People talking and planning.

  That was fine.

  They could plan all they wanted.

  She was leaving.

  She walked out without a word, made it all the way to the end of the hall before Chance caught up with her.

  He took her arm. Held it. No pressure, just his fingers wrapped around her bicep.

  “Running off without a plan is a good way to get killed,” he said quietly.

  “She’s there. I have to find her.”

  “My statement still stands.”

  “You know what they’re going to do. Get her financial information. Find out where her accounts are, move the money into their accounts. Then they’ll kill her.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Of course I do. They tried to kill me three times because they wanted me out of the way so they could do this. You know that’s what it was about. She’s vulnerable, and they wanted to take advantage of that. Then I showed up with a bunch of people who weren’t going to let that happen, so they kidnapped her. They’re going to take what they want and—”

  “Stella,” he said. Just that, and she stopped talking, looked into his eyes.

  Waited, because she knew whatever he said, it was going to be important. This was the Chance she knew best. The one in charge. The one who knew how to run a mission and to save a life.

  “Here’s how it’s going to be,” he continued. “I’m sending Trinity back to Beatrice’s hospital room. She’s going to clean it out and meet us at the house. That’s where we’re headed. Not to the hunting lodge. Not yet.”

  “Going to the house will be a waste of time.” Stella pulled away, walked out into the cold afternoon. Heavy clouds were moving in from the west, drifting over distant mountains, carrying snow or rain or both. Stella could feel the storm in the air, and all she could think about was Beatrice, in her frilly nightgown, sitting in a freezing cabin with two men who wanted her dead.

  “Have I ever led you in the wrong direction?” Chance asked from behind her, and she turned, wanting to rail at him, to yell and scream and demand that he take her straight to Beatrice.

  Only he didn’t deserve to be treated badly because she was upset. He knew just how scared she was, just how worried she was and just how right he was. They needed a plan. Going into a situation like this without one would get someone killed.

  “What direction do you think we should go?” she asked, forcing a calmness into her voice that she didn’t feel.

  “We go to your place. We get your car. Give Cooper a chance to get some men together. Then we go to the hunting lodge as a team.”

  “Chance, what if we’re too late?” she asked. “What if they...hurt her before we arrive?”

  “It’s more likely that they’ll keep her alive. At least until they have what they want.”

  “Okay,” she conceded. “We’ll do things your way, but I’m going to the hunting lodge as part of the team.”

  He nodded, motioning for Dallas to get their ride.

  She waited impatiently, every beat of her heart reminding her that time was slipping away and, with it, their chances of bringing Beatrice home. She knew how these things worked. She’d recovered hostages in dozens of countries, helped them out of more than a few desperate situations. She’d also failed to bring them out. Not often, but sometimes. Enough that she always worked harder, planned better, prepared more for every mission that she went on.

  Time was the enemy.

  That was the hard and fast rule of hostage rescue.

  The longer the kidnapper had his victim, the less likely it was that the victim would be returned.

  She shivered, felt Chance’s coat settle around her shoulders. He didn’t offer any words of comfort. He didn’t tell her that everything would be just fine.

  He knew the truth, and as he helped her into Dallas’s SUV he whispered in her ear, “God is in control, Stella. Don’t forget that.”

  She nodded, the hard knot of fear still in her stomach.

  God was in control.

  She knew that.

  She just didn’t know what He wanted from this.

  She didn’t know what He’d leave her with when it was
over.

  Lord, please keep Beatrice safe. And whatever happens, she prayed, help me make something good out of it.

  It’s what her grandfather would have wanted. It’s what Beatrice would have wanted.

  All she wanted was to bring Beatrice home.

  After that, she could think about other things. Like the future. Like God’s plan. Like Chance, waiting for her to say that she was willing to risk being hurt to love him.

  * * *

  Chance had worked with plenty of local law enforcement officers. He’d been impressed by most of them, irritated by a few and downright uncivil to any who tried to get in the way of a mission.

  Cooper fell into the first category.

  He was smart, quick and willing to work as a team. That made things easier, but it still didn’t make them good.

  Chance eyed the map that had been spread out on Beatrice’s kitchen table. Twelve men and women stood around it, taking notes and listening as Cooper outlined the plan.

  It was simple enough. They’d park their vehicles at the end of the three-mile gravel road that led to the hunting lodge. Walk in from there. Once they found the cabin, they’d signal the group, and the real fun would begin. They’d take position outside the cabin and wait for Stella to arrive. She’d be driving Karen’s car, carrying Karen’s cell phone, doing all the things Karen would be doing if she were actually going to meet her father.

  Dressed in a winter coat and hood, a scarf over the lower part of her face, Stella would be able to get to the front door without alarming the men.

  Once there, she’d knock and walk in like she belonged there, leaving the door wide open for Chance, Dallas and Simon to enter.

  Simple.

  Easy, even.

  Only they had no idea what weapons the two men might have. They had no idea where Beatrice was being kept. Basically, Stella would be walking in blind.

  That bothered Chance. A lot.

  “We need to rethink the plan,” he said, and Cooper frowned.

  “Why?”

  “Sending Stella in alone is too risky.”

  “She’s not going to be alone. She’s going to have nearly a dozen people outside, ready to run to her rescue.”

  “Not good enough.”

  “It’s plenty good enough,” Stella said.

  “It won’t be if you’re dead,” he retorted, his blunt words doing absolutely nothing to change Stella’s mind.

  She grabbed the coat, hat and gloves that one of the deputies had brought from the station. Karen had willingly lent them to the mission. She’d also handed over her cell phone and the keys to her car.

  That should have made Chance happy.

  It would have, if Stella hadn’t been the one going in.

  “Why would you think she’s going to die?” Dallas asked, leaning against the doorjamb that separated the kitchen from the dining room. “We’ve been on way more dangerous missions than this one, and we’ve all come out of them alive.”

  “This is personal. Emotions are involved. Emotions can get people killed.”

  “So can standing around discussing things that aren’t up for discussion.” Stella had strapped on her shoulder holster, and she slid her Glock into place. She still had his ankle holster, and he was pretty certain she had a stun gun hidden in one of the coat pockets. “The sun is going down. By the time we reach the lodge, it will be dark. We’ve already wasted enough time. Let’s head out.”

  “You cool with that?” Cooper asked, meeting Chance’s eyes.

  He nodded because Stella was right.

  The plan wasn’t up for discussion. They’d hashed it out, made decisions and agreed as a team that this was the best way, the only way, to get to Beatrice.

  No second-guessing.

  No backing out.

  That had always been his policy. The team knew it.

  Cooper gave the signal and his deputies walked out.

  Dallas and Simon followed.

  “You going to stand there all night looking dejected?” Stella asked, pulling on the cap that Karen had lent. Her red hair peeked out from under it, bright against the light blue knit.

  “Only if you walk out looking like that.”

  “What’s wrong with the way I look?” She grabbed the duffel that Karen had been carrying. Empty now except for some old books that Stella had tossed in to make it look heavy.

  “They get one look at your hair, and it’s going to be all over,” he murmured, tucking the strands under the knit cap and pulling the hood up over her head. “There. That’s better.”

  “Thanks,” she said, and he realized how close they were, how beautiful she looked, standing there in her borrowed snow gear. How big a hole would be left in his life if she were suddenly gone.

  “Thank me by staying safe.”

  “So that we can get through the wretched Christmas season together?” she asked, making light of the situation. She always cracked a joke when they were heading out on a mission, and it always made him smile.

  “No, Scrooge,” he responded, brushing her lips with his. “You get yourself killed, and all Beatrice’s plans for a Christmas engagement will be out the window. She and I will both be devastated.”

  The words popped out. Unexpected. Right.

  He didn’t regret them, and she didn’t argue with them.

  A surprise, because she’d always been the one to back away, deny what they felt.

  “Scrooge?” she said. “I guess I’ve earned my reputation. We’ll see if we can fix that when I get back.”

  He wanted to ask her what she meant, but she was already moving, hefting the duffel onto her shoulder, tossing a scarf around her neck and patting Chance’s shoulder like she had a thousand times before. “Let’s head out, boss. I’ve got a grandmother to save.”

  Outside, snow was beginning to fall, the heavy flakes dancing in the headlights of the three vehicles that sat at the ready.

  Stella walked to Karen’s small SUV, tossed the bag into the passenger seat and then turned to face him again.

  She touched his cheek, her palm warm against his cool skin.

  “Just so you know, I’ll be careful. I want to come back. For Nana. And for you.”

  She got into the car, closed the door and turned on the engine.

  That was his cue to get moving.

  He and his team were leading the caravan.

  Twenty miles on snowy roads could take an hour, and they didn’t have that much time. Eventually, Woods and Smith would get impatient with Beatrice. They’d get tired of whatever game they were playing. Once they did, anything could happen.

  He climbed into Dallas’s vehicle, ignoring the worry in the back of his mind. Stella was one of the best operatives he’d ever known. She could handle this, and he had to let her.

  “Let’s go,” he said, and the vehicle jumped forward, bouncing along the long driveway and out onto the snow-dusted road.

  FOURTEEN

  Stella had been in a lot of dangerous situations. She’d faced a lot of enemies who were much deadlier than Camden Woods or his buddy Derrick Smith. Cooper had provided her with photos of both, and she knew that Derrick had been the one who’d come after her at the hospital. Camden was shorter, stockier and more muscular. She thought that he’d been out in the woods with her, but she couldn’t be sure.

  Both were former army, but they’d been out of the military for over a decade, and Stella didn’t think either had done anything to maintain self-defense or fitness training.

  Yeah. She’d faced worse. Military leaders in foreign countries. Hired hit men. Cult leaders who spent every minute of every day getting ready for the Armageddon they were trying to usher in. Camden and Derrick were no danger at all compared to that.

  And yet, she
was more terrified of them than she’d ever been of anyone. Because they had Beatrice.

  She sat in Karen’s car, snow falling outside the windows, the night still and quiet around her. She could see the shadows of the police cruisers parked in front of her. They were empty. Just like Dallas’s vehicle. The team had headed out thirty minutes ago, and she’d been sitting ever since in the idling car.

  Waiting.

  Worrying.

  Put it in God’s hands, and it’ll never get dropped, she could almost hear Henry’s voice whispering through the darkness.

  “Easier said than done,” she said out loud, and she knew that if Henry had been around, he’d have laughed.

  He’d put everything in God’s hands, and he’d never been sorry about it. He’d raised his only son to do the same. Like Henry, Stella’s father had been a pastor. She could remember sitting in the wood pew at the front of the church, coloring pictures while he preached.

  She’d gotten out of the practice of attending church in recent years. She’d let herself slide away from the old habits that she’d formed as a child. Since she’d returned to Boonsboro, Sunday morning had been for worship again, and she’d found something comforting in that. Seasons changed. People changed. Circumstances and feelings and dreams changed.

  But God?

  He stayed the same.

  Put it in God’s hands.

  Maybe it wasn’t just a pretty little saying designed to make confused and hurting people feel better. Maybe it was something to be done daily: setting all the problems and worries and heartaches in the palms of the one who’d carried every burden, felt every tear.

  She really needed to do that.

  Now.

  Tomorrow.

  The day after that.

  It’s in Your hands, she prayed, closing her eyes, listening to the soft silence that answered.

  She used Karen’s cell phone and sent Camden a text saying that she’d gotten tired of sitting around the hospital, and she was on the way.

  A few minutes later, the phone buzzed a response.

  She glanced at it.

  See you in a minute, kid.

  Good. He was waiting, and she was coming.