Yuletide Defender

by Sandra Robbins

  He groaned as he realized how he had failed God. He knew Rachel’s faith was weak and he should have given her a strong example of one who follows Christ. The fact that he might be the reason Rachel would never come back to God hurt him more than losing her.

  He had to find a way to mend the horrible damage he’d done tonight.

  SEVENTEEN

  Ever since Friday night Matt had tried to reach Rachel, but she hadn’t taken any of his calls. Now it was Monday morning and she still wouldn’t answer. He leaned against the kitchen counter, his cell phone pressed to his ear, and listened to the rings on the other end. Her voice mail picked up and he repeated the message he’d left over and over.

  “Rachel, this is Matt. I’m sorry about the things I said Friday night. Please give me a chance to apologize and make this up to you.”

  He ended the call, poured himself another cup of coffee and slumped into a chair in the breakfast nook of his spacious kitchen. One of the things he liked about his home best was the view of the lake from this room. Seeing God’s handiwork in nature each morning seemed to give the day an extra boost.

  There was no joy this morning as he studied the snow-covered ground leading to the dock at the back of his condo. The wind whipped the water into waves that rippled against the shore. A lone red bird perched on the edge of the dock and looked around as if wondering why he was alone on this cold morning.

  Matt knew how the bird felt. Ever since Friday night, he’d felt like he had lost something he’d wanted for years. God had given him what he wanted, and he had messed up big time. As he had done all weekend, he bowed his head and prayed for God to forgive him for harming Rachel’s faith. Then he prayed for Rachel’s forgiveness.

  When he finished, he raised his head and checked the time. He had to be in court in an hour to testify in a case. If this day was anything like his usual court appearances, there would be lots of time to sit and wait. And downtime meant there would be lots of time to think about Rachel. He didn’t know if he would make it through the day.

  Rachel pulled the hood of her coat closer to her face and adjusted the sunglasses she wore as she entered the Beacon’s lobby. It was better to let her fellow employees wonder why she wore dark glasses on a snowy December day than to endure the stares her red eyes would invite.

  On the elevator she ducked her head and leaned against the wall until the third floor stop. Once inside her office she hung up her coat, hurried to her desk and sank down in her chair. Pulling a compact from her purse, she slowly removed the glasses and studied her reflection in the mirror.

  She snapped the compact closed and thrust it into her purse. The tears she’d shed over the weekend had left their mark on her face. She needed to put her argument with Matt out of her head. He was out of her life now and there was nothing she could do about it.

  Her heart ached and tears threatened again. She wiped at her eyes and booted up her computer. Work, that’s what she needed—something to take her mind off the words that had been spoken on Friday night.

  Her cell’s ringtone chimed and she pulled the phone from her purse. The caller ID flashed Matt’s number and she laid the phone on her desk. He’d called all weekend but she hadn’t answered. In time he would get the message and his calls would end.

  The ringing stopped and she turned her attention back to the computer. Within minutes, the phone rang again and she glanced at the displayed number. She sighed with relief and answered.

  “Hi, Mama. How’re you this morning?”

  “I’m fine, but I was worried about you. I didn’t hear from you all weekend. You didn’t return any of my calls.”

  “I’m sorry. I was busy. I spent a lot of time at the Center on Saturday and Sunday. There’s a young man there I’m trying to help.”

  Guilt pricked Rachel’s conscience because she hadn’t discussed Little Eddie with her mother. It would only upset her more. Her mother still hadn’t recovered from the break-in at the apartment.

  “Then I suppose you saw David.”

  “I did. He sends his love to you and Cara.”

  “And how about Matt? Was he at the Center with you?”

  Rachel bit her lip. “No, Mama.”

  “Well, bring him back to see us soon.”

  Rachel knew if she didn’t get off the phone, she would start crying again, and she wasn’t ready to talk about her breakup with Matt.

  “Uh, Mama, I have to go. I’ll call you later. Okay?”

  “Sure, darling. I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Mama.”

  Rachel flipped the phone closed. Before she could put it away, it rang again. Matt’s number flashed. Should she answer or not? She wanted to hear his voice but she knew nothing could come of it.

  She pushed the power button and watched the lit surface grow dark before she shoved the phone into her purse.

  Nine hours later her workday had officially ended, but Rachel hadn’t left. She’d stayed in her office most of the day writing a story that would run in tomorrow’s paper.

  Now reading what she’d written one last time, a sense of pride overtook her. Her time with Little Eddie over the weekend had paid off. Her story about a young man wanting to put the gang life behind him and start life anew had a poignant ring to it. She hoped the desire she’d seen in Little Eddie for a clean slate and a new beginning would be evident to her readers.

  After sending the story on its way to the copy editor, she rose and pulled her purse from the desk. The thought struck her that she had promised her mother earlier she’d call and she hadn’t. She pulled the phone from her purse and turned it on when she realized it had been off all day. From the number of messages showing up, she’d received a lot of calls during that time. With a sigh she shoved the phone back in her purse and shook her head. She’d deal with that later.

  She grabbed her coat and headed down the hallway to the elevator. The doors slid open. She was about to step in when the ringtone alerted her she had a call. Cal Belmont’s number showed up on caller ID.

  “Hi, Cal.”

  “Rachel.” His voice held a hint of relief. “I just called your office but didn’t get you. I hope you’re not too far from the paper right now.”

  She stepped away from the elevator and switched the phone to her other ear. “No, I was in the hallway. Do you need something?”

  “Yes. I’m out at Moon Lake Lodge for a meeting of the department heads with the newspaper owner. I left some papers on my desk that I really need. I would come back and get them, but we’re getting ready to sit down for dinner before the meeting and I need to be here. Could you bring them to me?”

  “Sure, Cal. Where are they?”

  “There’s a manila folder on my desk that’s labeled December Meeting. Get it and bring it to me in the dining room at the lodge.”

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  “Thank you, Rachel. I owe you for this.”

  Rachel chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. I’m glad to help out. See you soon.”

  She retraced her steps down the hallway until she came to Cal’s office. Stepping inside, she found the folder, scooped it up and headed back to the elevator.

  As she waited for the doors to open, she almost wished she’d missed Cal’s call. All she wanted was to go home and take a hot bath. Maybe her trip wouldn’t take too long.

  The drive out to Moon Lake Lodge wasn’t something she enjoyed, especially in winter. Once you left the main highway, the winding, narrow road skirted the lake that in places nearly came up to the edge of the pavement. The newspaper had done a series of articles a year ago about the need for guardrails along the road, but the county hadn’t seen fit to construct any as of yet.

  When she reached her car, she tossed her purse and the folder on the seat next to her. Her phone rang and she looked at the caller ID. Matt was calling again. Ignoring the rings, she cranked the car on and headed toward Moon Lake Lodge.

  He sat in his car and replayed Rachel’s calls for the d
ay. He almost laughed out loud as he listened to the pitiful tone of Matt Franklin’s voice on Rachel’s voice mail messages. He didn’t know what happened between the two of them on Friday night, but from what he gathered, their budding romance had come to an end.

  That only boded well for him. With Matt no longer at Rachel’s side every time she left her office, she would be more vulnerable. All he had to do was bide his time for the perfect opportunity to get close enough for what he had planned.

  Finally, he reached the end of Matt’s pleadings and noticed that Rachel had received another phone call just minutes before. When Rachel identified the caller as her editor, he sat up straighter and listened with growing excitement.

  With the call ended, he put the phone back in his pocket and smiled. This was what he’d been waiting for—Rachel in a deserted area without Matt Franklin to protect her. Anything could happen on a dark winter night in any of the dangerous places along Moon Lake Road. Especially to a nosy newspaper reporter who’d ruined his life.

  He laughed and turned the ignition. “Don’t worry, Rachel. You’ll never know what hit you.”

  An hour and a half after leaving her office, Rachel exited Moon Lake Lodge. She stopped on the porch of the rustic hotel and pulled her coat tighter. The wind blowing off the lake sent its cold breath seeping into her pores and she shivered. Although the temperature always seemed much colder at the lake, she had never seen a more beautiful spot.

  The snow-covered branches of the pine and spruce trees around the lodge and the full moon that hung over the lake reminded her of a line from a Carl Sandburg poem about a snowy woods and a dark evening. She smiled and basked in the picture-perfect scene that could very well be the cover of a Christmas card.

  Stepping from the porch of the lodge, she ambled toward her car with thoughts of the approaching holiday. She could hardly wait to see the expression on Cara’s face when she opened the bracelet on Christmas morning.

  When she stopped at her car, she reached to open the door and glanced across the parking lot. Her hand froze on the handle. The peace of moments ago shattered at the sight of a car with a dented fender and chipped paint across the trunk parked nearby.

  The drumbeat of her heart pounded in her ears as she jumped inside the car and locked the doors. She fumbled to turn the ignition and the motor roared to life. Backing out from the spot, she pulled the car into gear and sped toward the road. A glance in the rearview mirror sent chills down her spine. A car left the lodge and pulled into the road behind her.

  Rachel took a deep breath. “Relax. Just because someone drove out behind me doesn’t mean he’s following my car.”

  Her thumping heart slowed its pace and her fingers loosened on the steering wheel. There was no need to panic. She’d keep an eye on the car behind her.

  A mile later, the reflection of the lights still bobbed up and down in her mirror. Rachel chewed on her lip and tried to think. Maybe she could put some distance between them. She eased her foot down, increasing her speed. The vehicle behind her maintained the same space from her.

  If she slowed, perhaps he would pass. Rachel let up on the accelerator. Whoever was driving that car had also slowed to keep the same space between them. For the next few miles she maintained a safe speed and kept an eye on the ever-present headlights.

  She had just begun to relax when a sudden movement from behind caught her attention. Horrified, she watched the car ease to her rear and hover at her bumper. Without warning, a jolt from behind shot her car forward and she struggled to maintain control.

  Ahead the road twisted and turned in the serpentine path it followed along the lake’s edge. Rachel pressed her foot to the accelerator and surged into the first curve. She screamed as the car behind rammed her bumper again. Wrestling to keep the car on the road, she hunched over the steering wheel and pressed the gas pedal again. The car swerved around the next corner as if on two wheels.

  In the mirror, the reflection of the headlights disappeared. Rachel waited for what would come next. The shape of a car materialized beside her, but she only glanced at it and back at the next curve in the road.

  The screech of metal against metal vibrated in her head as the car eased across the road’s dividing line and struck the side of her car. She jerked the steering wheel to the left, hitting the vehicle, and felt it bounce away. With the short reprieve, she shot forward. She had to get away.

  Within seconds, the driver recovered control and surged back to her side. This time it appeared he intended to finish what he’d started. She glanced down at the speedometer. At this high speed she would die if her car crashed into a tree.

  Her tires crunched in the loose gravel at the side of the road, a signal she was losing this battle. With a final shove, the driver pushed her car from the road and onto the grassy area leading to the lake. Moonlight sparkled on the dark lake that beckoned Rachel to a watery grave.

  She stomped the brake but it was too late. There was no way to stop. Rachel crossed her arms over her face, grabbed the shoulder belt with her right hand and screamed at the moment the car hit the water.

  A cold liquid oozed over her feet. She lowered her arms and stared in horror at the water rising over her legs. She had to get out of the car before she drowned. But how?

  Her mind raced. A year ago she’d covered a story on the drowning death of a drunken Lake City resident who had driven his car off a boat ramp. She searched her memory for what her research had revealed. As if she’d written the story yesterday, the information she’d studied returned.

  The water around her feet deepened and she reached to unhook her seat belt. No, that was wrong. For the moment she had to remain anchored in one spot. The incoming water could move her away from the window. She had to focus on getting out of the car before it was too late.

  If she was going to escape, she had to let the pressure between the inside and outside of the car stabilize. The only way to do that was to speed up the flow of water. With her seat belt still fastened, she felt for the door lock and pulled it up, then reached for the handle to roll down the window. For once she was glad to have an older car that didn’t have power locks and windows.

  She waited until the water was at chest level before she took several deep breaths and rolled down the window. Water surged into the car and pounded at her face. Within seconds the interior flooded, submerging her. She held her breath and willed herself to be patient until the car was completely flooded. The door wouldn’t open until then.

  After what seemed an eternity, she reached for the door handle and pushed the door open. Unbuckling her seat belt, she used the leverage to propel herself from the car.

  Once outside the car she pushed off the side and swam upward. When she broke through the surface, she gulped air into her burning lungs. She could see the shore a short distance away and began to swim in that direction.

  The water grew shallow and she realized she could stand. She rose to her feet and waded forward toward the beach. Her breath caught in her chest but she pushed her legs to move to safety.

  She had almost reached shore when a figure on the beach came into view. “Are you okay?”

  She tried to answer the man but her chattering teeth blocked her words.

  He waded into the water and splashed toward her. She stopped. Something was wrong.

  The man advanced. She gasped at the heavy jacket and the knit cap he wore—the clothing of the person who drove the car with the dented fender and chipped paint. Had she only escaped death by drowning to be murdered so close to safety?

  A scream tore from her throat and she backed away. The lake’s muddy bottom sucked at her feet and she fell backward. The water closed over her face again. She thought of Matt and the last words she’d said to him. How she wished she could take them back. For the first time in years, Rachel prayed.

  EIGHTEEN

  Strong hands clamped around Rachel’s arms and pulled her up. Water trickled from her nose and she gasped for air. Even in the darkness she c
ould make out the features of the person holding her by the arms. She stared into the face of the young man she’d seen in the lobby the day the Santa stole her purse.

  He held her arm with one hand and put his other one around her shoulders. “Let’s get you to shore. You’re freezing.”

  Too tired to fight back, Rachel allowed herself to be led to the bank. Once on land she sank to her knees and panted for breath. The young man stooped beside her and spread his heavy jacket around her shoulders. “I was scared to death. I couldn’t believe it when I saw that guy force you off the road.”

  His words drifted into her foggy brain and she frowned. “What?”

  “The guy in the black SUV that forced you off the road. I couldn’t believe it.”

  Rachel pulled the jacket tighter and shook her head. “Black SUV? You mean it wasn’t you?”

  His eyes widened. “Oh, you thought I was the one? No, it was somebody else.”

  Rachel put her hand on the side of her head. “But who?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. He pulled out when you left the lodge and I followed him.”

  New fear rushed through Rachel. “What were you doing following me?”

  He glanced up at the road where his car idled. “Look, can’t we talk about this in the car? You’re freezing and I need to get you to a hospital. Then we need to call the police. I’ll explain everything on the way.”

  Rachel hesitated. Should she go with this man who said someone else ran her off the road? She glanced at the highway but there wasn’t another car in sight. It seemed she didn’t have a choice. She needed to get where it was warm, and his car, even with the dented fender and chipped paint, looked inviting.

  She pushed to her feet and tried to smile. “Then let’s go, Mr…. I’m afraid I don’t know your name.”

  “Hunter Ward. I’m a journalism student at the university.”