Auntie must have seen my expression. She gave a slight nod.
“Hello, Mr. Connolly.” I cleared my throat and looked at the stranger from head to toe, which was pretty hard to do since he was taller than Cole. Impressive.
He was muscular, not like Cole, but muscular just the same. He had green eyes and blond hair and his clothes were clean as a whistle. Had they been any cleaner, they might have shone like one.
Nice jeans. Too bad they wouldn’t stay clean for very long. I smiled. Not with Zoya’s dogs. No, sir! You might as well kiss those pants goodbye. You’ll need somethin’ a lot sturdier than those high-dollar jeans if ya wanna work here. I scanned him again.
The shirt! The shirt was just plain, good ol’ fashioned wrong. What man in his right mind would wear a button down Oxford to work in a dog kennel?
All in all, this guy was weird.
Where on earth was he from anyway? The White House? Buckingham Palace? Mars?
“You can call me Sean, if you would prefer.”
I nodded. Hmmm . . . So he didn’t speak Martian. No British accent.
Must’ve been from the White House.
Zoya said nothing. Just stood there. And stood there some more.
I sighed.
Time for action.
“Auntie, we were wondering, if we could take the dogs out for a run?”
I saw the worry flash in her eyes. “I don’t—”
“Maybe have a picnic?” Was I pushing too much? My “pathetic look” took over my face. I couldn’t stop it. We really wanted to go. And besides, maybe it would help Zoya.
Come on, please say yes . . . it’s not that hard. You just sound it out, like so: Ye-eh-sssss . . .
She glanced from me to Zoya.
This didn’t look good.
“We’d be careful. And I’d make sure Zoya didn’t overdo it.” I pleaded with my eyes. That always worked with Cole.
But then again, Auntie’s smarter than he is. I tried not to smile. No offense.
Mom looked to Auntie Anesia’s pale face and shook her head. “Andie, I don’t think—”
“Pleeeeeease?” Time for the puppy-dog pout. I stuck out my bottom lip as far as it would go. It almost hurt. Almost.
At least that brought a smile. From the stranger.
Guilt swirled in my stomach. We weren’t allowed to beg . . .
But desperate times call for desperate measures, right?
Right!
“We’d take it easy, plus if we had a picnic we wouldn’t go very far and would sit down for awhile.” I looked to Zoya. She nodded back.
It was working. Yes!
“Please, Mom?” Zoya shoved a hand into her pocket and looked up.
Bingo. Two against one. This had to work.
“I don’t know.” No missing that being-way-too-careful-for-my-own-good deep breath.
She was worried, but I was too. Something had to get Zoya back to her old self. And—as far as I could see—this was the way to do it.
Auntie’s face changed. I’d never seen that expression before.
Mom held up a hand as she and Auntie exchanged one of those mom looks. “What if I go with you? I think that’s the only way you—”
“Yay!” I clapped. Excitement bubbled up inside. God, please let this do the trick! I want my friend back.
“But!”
Uh-oh. The excitement bubble popped. “Buts” were never good.
“We’re not going farther than the Chena River.”
Auntie nodded. “And make sure you’re back by three o’clock.”
“So we can have a picnic too?” I raised my eyebrows.
“You can make PB&Js. And there are some small bags of potato chips in the pantry.” Auntie sighed. “Just, be careful. Okay?”
We were making progress. “Yes!” I couldn’t help the happiness, it decided to overflow. I jumped up and down on my toes. Maybe for Zoya’s sake. Maybe to warm up. It didn’t matter, we got to go. Good enough for me!
“Come on, let’s go water the dogs so we can get going before our time runs out.”
Zoya nodded and grabbed my hand, pulling me over to the shed.
I hope this works.
An hour and forty minutes later, we had our lunches packed, the dogs watered, and were checking the harnesses. I petted M&M’s head and looked to Auntie Anesia. She stood by the kennels with The Stranger—Sean—telling him all the dogs’ names.
I think he was confuzzled.
Zoya stood and looked toward the kennels. “Let’s get the dogs set up.”
“Okey dokey.” I smiled and walked over to the dogs. This has to do the trick. But what if it didn’t? It has to!
Zoya hooked up Percocet, Ibuprofen, and Aspirin to her Bewe sled while I hooked up Licorice, Candy Corn, and Snickers to my Danler. We made sure the harnesses were secure, the dogs weren’t tangled—much to Candy Corn’s dismay—and waited for Mom.
Lupine, Moose, and Susitna pulled at their harnesses as Mom fastened the picnic basket to her sled.
The dogs kicked their legs behind them as if saying, “Come on, let’s get going already!”
Snow flew everywhere. I giggled until a chunk of ice slid inside my shirt and down my back. Eeek! Cold!
I jumped and slapped a hand onto my back. “Cold ice! Cold ice!”
Zoya gave a small smile. “Having problems?”
“No kidding!” I tried to get the ice off my back. Ick!
Our lead dogs barked. Morphine jumped and twirled, his tail wagging as fast as a hummingbird’s wings.
I sighed and walked over to M&M, my faithful, excited, eager lead dog. The ice melted leaving a cold, wet spot on my back.
Oh. Perfect! I rolled my eyes. Nothing I can do about it anyway.
We hooked up the lead dogs. Within milliseconds of stepping onto the sled and saying “All right!” the dogs were flying down the path.
Amazing . . .
They all barked. Their excitement seemed to rush out of every pore as they sailed along the path. My heart beat in a steady rhythm as we slid and glided around one turn and another. It’s so beautiful out here. I smiled. Thanks, God.
We neared the frozen Chena River. If only time would stand still, so I could take a picture and place it in my heart’s scrapbook. This was a moment to cherish.
Even though there were still murderers out there.
I whistled three short tweets as we reached a small clearing. Perfect spot for a picnic.
“Whoa.” I flipped the mat down and put pressure onto it with my foot and the dogs slowed to a stop. “This place look good to you?”
Zoya pulled up beside me and nodded. “Perfect.”
Mom brought up the rear of the party.
“My thoughts exactly.” I hopped off the sled, set my hook so the dogs wouldn’t go racing forward, and went to grab the basket. Food would be welcome. “Let’s eat. I’m starving!”
“Same here. I haven’t eaten very much lately, and PB&Js sound great.” Zoya plopped a thick blanket down on the snow and sat on top of it.
I glanced up at her and smiled. “You know, that’s the most you’ve spoken in the past week.”
“Andie, I’m fine. Just tired.” She looked down at the blanket and started fiddling with a loose end. “Really tired.”
I should’ve known she would shrink back inside herself, but I didn’t want to believe it.
I sighed. My best friend was turning into someone I didn’t even know. And she denied it. Denied it with everything in her! Zoya, talk to me, please . . .
Mom grabbed the picnic basket and passed out food.
Again I sighed. God, please give me the right words. I just want to be a good friend. Please, help me to say what she needs
to hear.
“Zoya, why won’t you talk to me? I’m your BFF, remember? You can tell me if something’s on your mind.” The sandwiches were passed out and Zoya repositioned so she sat criss-cross-apple-sauce. But she didn’t look me in the eye.
“I’m fine. Just tired.”
“You are not fine.” I crossed my arms. “Zoya Sabiile’ Naltsiine, something is wrong and you’re going to tell me what it is right now.” I reached for her gloved hand. Maybe the closeness of a friend would break down the growing walls. Maybe. “Tell me what’s going on.”
Mom stood and patted Zoya on the head. “I think I’m going to walk to the edge of the river so you two can chat.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I waited for Mom to get out of earshot. “So? We’re alone, and you can always tell me anything. You know that.”
She sighed and shrugged. “Andie, I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Zoya, please.” I squeezed her hand. You’re as stubborn as a mule! “You’re scaring me. I feel like I’ve lost my best friend. You’re turning into some closed-in creature I don’t even know!” Tears sprang in my eyes. Stinkin’ tears. These are the times I hate being a girl . . . I sniffed. “Please talk to me. I miss you, Zoya. I know it’s hard, but please . . .”
“No. You wouldn’t understand.” She looked up and stared into my eyes.
How could she think that? “I can try, Zoya. If you’d just give me the—”
“No.” She stood and walked over to her sled. “I’m not hungry, I’ll meet you back at the house.”
“What? Zoya!” I jumped up and followed her to the sled. “Come on. I know you better than that.”
She stopped. Jaw clamped together.
Oops. She was mad. At me.
God? Please . . .
She stepped onto the sled and yelled “all right.” The dogs took off running at full speed.
“Zoya, wait!”
My shoulders slumped and I shivered.
What on earth was wrong with her?
CHAPTER TEN
ANESIA
Naltsiine Kennels
2:48 p.m.
Sean didn’t deserve the remnant of her anger, but she didn’t want him constantly asking about racing either. She stiffened. It still riled her that some sicko had stolen her joy, her racing. Sean would get over the way she’d responded to him. Her job was to protect Zoya. Period.
Time to get back to business. “The barn over here houses more gear and sleds. We do a lot of work in here in the winter because it’s warmer than being out in the wind. You’ll need to help make sure that things are kept clean and straight. We often bring dogs in here and don’t want them to get injured on any of the equipment. The lawnmower is over there as well as several snow machines.”
“Snow machines?”
“I think people in the lower forty-eight call them snowmobiles. But they are snow machines.” She brought him over to the far wall. “This table, as you can see, runs the length of the barn. We use it to work on harnesses. This way we can stretch the lines all the way out and look for any problems, knots, fraying, etc.”
Anesia demonstrated the equipment, showing him all the intricacies. He appeared eager to start, but she wanted to be honest with him. “Sean, I’m not going to guarantee anything right now.” She paused to gather her words. “Please don’t misunderstand. Agent Philips gave me a glowing report, and I’d like to hire you. But there is so much you don’t understand yet, and I won’t hire you officially until the full background check comes back.”
His green eyes softened. “I understand.”
“However, if you are willing, I’d like you to come back on Monday. I can continue to teach you the ropes around here and you can tell me what you think.”
“What I think?”
“If you think the job would be a good fit.”
“Oh. Sure.” Eagerness sparked in his eyes. “I’ll be here.”
“Good.” The man was entirely too handsome for his own good. But he didn’t even seem aware of it. She stuck out her hand. “Sean, thank you for coming. I know it was a long day. And a little overwhelming.”
“The pleasure was all mine, I assure you, Anesia. Thank you for the opportunity.”
She watched him walk back to his truck. He was perfect. Whoa. For the job. And only the job.
If he truly was who he said he was and his background check came back clear, she could hire him in an official capacity and protect her daughter.
But that still didn’t stop the frustration building inside.
How long would she be able to carry the load without crumbling beneath it?
* * *
SLIM
Near the Chena River
2:53 p.m.
His breath turned to crystals in the air as he walked through the woods. Tree limbs moaned in the wind that bit into any exposed skin. Snow crunched under his boots.
He hated snow.
Hated winter.
Hated Alaska.
The sooner he got outta here, the better. Some place warm. With lots of sunshine, girls in bikinis, sand, and plenty of sunscreen. Someplace he’d get the respect he deserved. No more peon jobs for the big boys.
He would be the big boy. He would unleash all his brilliant schemes and have peons working for him. Ma had always said he’d make it. She’d supported him, listened to his ideas, helped the desires inside him grow. She’d been his best friend. The only one he’d ever had. The only one who truly understood him. And his genius.
It’d been her idea for the double-cross. Oh, he’d come up with the plan of hiding the chips, knowing that such a massive program could only be stolen piece by piece, but she knew how to go for the jugular. And that’s exactly what he planned to do. He had what they were so desperate for, and he planned to make them all pay. They thought he was stupid. That he didn’t know what they were hiding. But he’d show them. He’d take their money. And then sell the stolen chips to someone else. Someone bigger. With more money. And less conscience.
Ma’d be proud then. Real proud.
* * *
ZOYA
2:57 p.m.
“Why are You doing this to me?” I clasped the sled’s handle. God, why?
He made me lose everything. My freedom, my sanity, my best friend . . . why couldn’t He just leave my life alone?
Tears sprang in my eyes. I sniffed.
If He wasn’t a kind God to me, then let Him be no God to me.
That little voice pushed at me again, whispering, and with everything in me I wanted to listen to it. But something fought back.
I hated this! Why couldn’t I be master of my own mind?
“Haw.” The dogs turned left and sped toward the house. I swiped at the frozen tears covering my cheeks and hopped off, opened the gate, rode through, then closed it.
“Whoa.” I flipped the mat down stopping the dogs.
Mom was still talking to the new guy.
I huffed and stormed over to Morphine. “Come on.”
Why do we have company at a time like this? We don’t need another hand to help us. I can take care of the dogs . . . always have.
“Zoya?” Mom left the new guy and walked over. “Where’s Andie and Jenna?”
Morphine’s chain gave a sharp click, telling me it had closed around his collar. I stood and walked over to the other sled.
“Zoya, where’s Andie?” Worry etched her face. Again. It seemed it was becoming a permanent feature.
Whatever.
“She should be here any minute.” Next it was Ibuprofen’s turn. Just keep busy, Zoya, that’s all you need to do.
“If His eye is on the sparrow . . .”
Stop it! Do not think like that. He wasn’t there. So just leave it be. He’s isn’t here,
Zoya. He’s never been there for you . . .
“Did you two race home? Why isn’t Jenna with you?”
Why was she so concerned? I could take care of myself, she didn’t have to go and rub it in that they weren’t with me. “Not exactly.” I frowned and stroked Ibuprofen’s back. Distraction . . .
“Zoya!”
Just then, Andie’s sled came within sight. She brought the dogs through the unlocked gate and was soon beside me.
I was sure I saw steam rolling out of her ears. See if I care what you say, Andie. I don’t want to hear it. Just go away.
When she saw Mom, her mouth opened. Then closed without a word.
Mom nodded as if she and Andie had shared a silent conversation, then walked back toward the visitor, peeking at us over her shoulder as she went.
Boy, was I in for it now.
“Zoya, why did you leave like that? We were supposed to stay together. Mom is gonna kill us that we took off like that and left the mess for her to clean up!”
Just keep your mouth shut or you’ll say something you regret.
“Zoya, talk to me!”
Aspirin whined as I dragged her over to her doghouse. Why couldn’t everybody just leave me alone?
The anger burned. Growing. Gnawing at everything I’d ever known. Ever believed. “I’ll take care of your sled.” Distraction. That’s what I needed.
“Zoya, I can take care of my own sled.” She grabbed my arm.
I jerked away. No way was I gonna spill my guts. And that was exactly what she wanted me to do.
“Just tell me what’s wrong.” She plopped down on one of the porch steps and looked up at me.
“Let me take care of your sled. You go on inside.” I stalked toward her Danler. Leave. Me. Alone.
“No.” She reached for my arm again.
My chest constricted. Everything became a blur.
BANG!
The sound echoed through the trees. Slow-motion pictures sailed by . . .
“Zoya?”
I blinked. What?
Race Against Time: A Novel Page 8
