Thank you for sharing their story with me. I hope that as you face the days, months and years ahead, you will find the peace, joy and strength for whatever your future holds.
As always, you can find me online at www.maggiekblack.com or on Twitter at @maggiekblack.
Merry Christmas and thank you for sharing the journey,
Maggie
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Deadly Setup
by Annslee Urban
ONE
Am I being followed?
The thought circled through Paige Becker’s brain and sent her pulse skittering. She darted a glance in the rearview mirror, squinting against the rain-pelted windshield. The fall storm had picked up, making visibility almost impossible. But behind her, in the distance, the low white glow of headlights burned up the fog and darkness as a vehicle came careening around a bend in the road.
Suddenly Paige was frightened. A pickup had been riding her bumper down Highway 321 in Boone, North Carolina. She’d breathed relief when the light turned red as the driver pulled off at the exit behind her, forcing him to stop. Had the same mysterious vehicle caught up with her?
Lightning flashed, and a burst of thunder shook the Jeep. Paige jumped, and for a moment she lost control of the vehicle. The rear of the Renegade started to skid, fishtailing on the rain-slicked asphalt toward the shoulder of the road. Toward the steep bank.
Panic rioted through Paige’s chest. She yanked the steering wheel to the left, muscles clenching, and managed to steer the Jeep away from the edge and back into her lane.
Thank You, Lord.
Chest heaving, she worked to catch her breath. Bright lights reflected in her side-view mirrors. The truck had caught up with her and was back on her bumper. An empty, nauseated feeling erupted in the depths of her stomach.
Was this a case of road rage? Or had her return to Boone incensed someone, fearful of what evidence she might dig up?
A chill needled her bones. Okay. She yanked her handbag from the seat beside her and riffled for her cell phone. It was time to call the police.
Fear. Anger. Frustration. A tangled mess of emotions churned in her gut when her search came up empty. As she tossed her bag on the seat beside her, she spied a small blinking light on the floor by the passenger door. Her cell phone.
On a sigh, she dug her nails into the wheel and glanced at the steep winding curves ahead of her. Oh, no. She darted a look between the road ahead and the rearview mirror. The truck was still there. The rain had eased up a little, allowing just enough light for her to make out a silhouette of a man inside the cab. Is this lunatic planning to run me off the road?
Before the frantic thought fully penetrated her brain, the roar of an engine hit her ears, and the driver barreled into the lane beside her.
Heart thumping, Paige nailed the accelerator to the floor and held her breath, praying her car wouldn’t lose traction again. If she could only make it a couple more miles, she’d be in view of a gas station and well-lit shopping area. Please, Lord.
But instead the truck matched her speed, edging to the right, encroaching into her lane.
Sweat slickened Paige’s palms as she clenched the wheel and veered right, precariously hugging the edge of the pavement. Her Jeep was now halfway up the steep incline and beginning the curve. She just needed to get over the hill. Just one more mile.
Her faint glow of hope extinguished a split second later as the truck swerved sharply and slammed into her door, sending her vehicle hurtling off the roadway and back onto the shoulder.
No! She gritted her teeth, trying to gain control. Brakes whined and tires spun, churning up mud and gravel.
Thunder rumbled and growled. Rain came down in sheets.
Sucking in a sharp breath, Paige jerked the wheel to the left, bringing the vehicle bouncing back onto the asphalt. But instead of gaining control, the Jeep started to hydroplane. With brakes squealing and tires screeching, the Renegade skidded like a pendulum from one side of the road to the other.
Fear sent crushed ice through her veins as the Jeep’s back end struck a tree just before sailing over the edge of the embankment. It rolled several times before finally coming to a dead halt. Paige’s head hit the steering wheel, and the air bag deployed on impact.
Everything went dark.
* * *
Deputy Detective Seth Garrison turned his headlights to high beam and accelerated down the long stretch of highway. He’d finally made it back to Boone. In another fifteen minutes, he’d be home, kicking off his boots and plopping down in his old leather recliner. After a week away in Raleigh painting and making repairs on his mom’s house, he was ready for a little R & R.
Around a tight bend in the road and in the distance, flashing lights burned up the night fog. Red. Blue. White. Watauga County rescue vehicles.
Welcome home. Seth released a long breath. Not even ten miles into the county and work was there to greet him. So much for that R & R.
Seth arrived at the scene. Fire, police and rescue vehicles were scattered across the two-lane highway, their blinking lights reflecting off the icy road. He pulled his hat on and grabbed his jacket and a flashlight. There was a damp chill in the air as temperatures continued to drop. All around him residual puddles from the earlier storm had started to freeze.
Ice creaked and splintered beneath his boots as he hiked up a slight incline and navigated his way to a small company of police and rescue workers congregated at the edge of the embankment.
Before he could ask, Officer Ted Hanson swung his grim face toward him. “We’ve got a car in the ravine. A local resident on his way home saw the vehicle spin out and slide off the road.”
“Casualties?” Seth swept his flashlight around the wooded area at the bottom of the ditch, stopping when his light caught on the Jeep resting in a thicket of small pines and scrub. The roof of the vehicle had been sliced off. The rescuers had put the Jaws of Life into action, and now four firefighters were working the scene.
“Amazingly, no.” Ted stuffed his hands in the pockets of his police-issue bomber jacket. “Single driver. A woman. EMS radioed up a few moments ago to say she had come to and her injuries didn’t appear life threatening, but no update on her identity.”
“She’s fortunate, whoever she is.”
“We’re coming up,” one of the rescuers announced over the radio in a scratchy voice, almost lost in the static.
Ten minutes later two firefighter paramedics emerged from the scene with the victim strapped on a backboard. Other rescue workers rushed over and helped get her on a gurney.
Battery-powered floodlights lit up the scene. The woman was in full spinal precautions. A trail of crimson trickled down one c
heek from a gash on her forehead, and long strands of her dark curls spilled over the edge of the wooden backboard. She was shaking uncontrollably, her teeth chattering, her breathing unsteady.
Everything inside Seth froze as his heart slammed to a disturbing halt. He knew that face.
Paige Becker.
Automatically, he took a step, then stopped, summoning every ounce of control he could muster, and still he had to force himself not to go to her. He would be the last person she would want to see right now.
What was Paige doing back in Boone?
As a trio of emergency workers maneuvered the gurney over the ice-slicked roadway, a firefighter called out, “We’re going to need warm blankets.”
“Ready and waiting.” A medic jumped out of the back of the EMS vehicle and helped load up the victim.
“Is that...Paige Becker?” Ted cut Seth a sideways glance. “I didn’t know she was back in town.”
Seth didn’t respond. The bile scalding his throat wouldn’t let him. Rough breakups never healed easy. He pushed his hat up on his forehead and fought to shove old feelings aside as he watched the doors to the EMS vehicle slam shut.
Be okay, Paige. Those three little words played in his head.
She had to be. She was the most resilient woman he knew.
* * *
Paige woke up in a dimly lit room, a hammer pounding inside her head, her mind fuzzy. She gingerly shifted against the unfamiliar bed. Every bone in her body hurt.
As she looked around the small area, thoughts and memories untangled in her mind. It took a few moments for her to remember where she was and why.
“Boone Memorial,” she muttered as the jumbled bits and pieces of the night started to meld together. She’d been in an accident. Her Jeep had run off the side of the road.
Suddenly, as if a veil of brain fog lifted, every detail came rushing back with startling clarity. No. Paige jerked up straight in the bed. Someone ran me off the road.
The room started to spin. Vision blurred. Paige swayed and then gripped the metal railing. She pulled in a breath against the assailing head rush and lowered herself against the raised angle of the bed. She blew it out slowly, letting the dizziness pass.
She was reeling from exhaustion and whatever medication she’d been given. She felt rotten. And to make matters worse, someone had tried to kill her. She’d like to chalk it up to a road-rage lunatic, but her gut told her different.
Fresh tears gathered, washing hot. Paige squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed hard. She’d only been in town since that morning, and already the message was clear: she wasn’t welcome back in Boone. Someone didn’t want her to find the truth. A chill prickled her flesh. She shook it off. She couldn’t let fear paralyze her investigation. Her brother’s life depended on her.
Voices drifted in from the hallway. She opened her eyes, realizing she was no longer alone. The door was cracked open, and she caught a glimpse of a nurse standing outside the room talking to someone. A pager went off. Loud and insistent, growing to an unforgiving wail.
Paige’s headache burst to full bloom. Cringing, she pressed two fingertips to her pounding temple and rubbed vigorously. She mouthed thank you when the nurse silenced the device.
“If you’ll excuse me, Detective, I have another patient to check on. Feel free to look in on Miss Becker, but remember, she’s feeling rather rough from the accident and may not be up to many questions.”
“Thank you. I shouldn’t be long. I only need a short statement from her on what happened tonight.”
The masculine voice ripped through the air like a bolt of lightning. Everything inside Paige went still. Seth Garrison. As if running off the side of a mountain wasn’t bad enough. She rubbed her temple harder. What was he doing here?
Common sense kicked in, reminding her Seth was a detective for the sheriff’s department. He was here to do his job.
A fresh spurt of annoyance bottled in her chest. His job—the sole reason her relationship with him—imploded. A man who went above and beyond the call of duty—even when he was wrong.
The door slowly creaked open.
Fighting a groan, Paige pulled herself into a sitting position. She pushed strands of hair from her face, licked her lips. She kept her expression placid, nonchalant. Hopefully, she looked somewhat together.
Just stay strong, keep your head on straight, emotions intact.
That plan derailed about ten seconds after Seth’s broad shoulders filled the doorway. Waves of hot and cold shuddered through her as she regarded him, fending off emotions that were far from intact. Feelings she thought she’d buried ten months ago when he’d ignored her pleas for justice, shattering her trust and her heart.
For a moment, Seth stood there, taking in the room, jaw set, legs planted slightly apart, arms at his sides. A cop stance. Even without a uniform, Seth was a cop to his core. His wide eyes, thickly lashed, under dark brows only further enhanced his stoic demeanor.
Tension coiled around her chest, squeezing tight as Seth stepped forward and stopped a foot from her bed. She looked up to see him, head cocked, eyes intent. She swallowed as they went soft and deep as he looked at her, the same dark gaze that still haunted her dreams.
Paige’s heart froze as a bittersweet pang surged through her, stirring up memories of heartbreak and pain. Memories of Seth were always tough. Memories of the night he arrested her brother, Trey, and charged him with the brutal murder of his estranged wife, harder still.
Fresh anger ignited deep in her chest. Her brother was about to stand trial, facing a life sentence without parole. And the one man who could have helped track down the real killer halted the investigation and declared Trey Becker the only suspect.
“Paige, how are you feeling?”
She tried not to look at him. Frustrated and disappointed came to mind. She bit back a snide comment and forced herself to breathe. They’d been down that road too many times. “I’ve been better, Detective Garrison.” Her voice quivered. She swallowed tightly. So much for being strong.
Although it didn’t help that after all the disappointment, all the pain, all it took was one look at Seth’s strong, chiseled face and broad-shouldered physique and her traitorous stomach reacted with an inappropriate adolescent twist.
“The nurse told me the CT scan came out good. No broken bones,” Seth said, his deep baritone resonating concern. She bit her lip, hard. Where was that concern ten months ago? When she really needed it, needed him? “You’re fortunate,” he continued. “You drove off one of the deadliest curves on the mountain pass and tumbled about fifty feet.”
Her heart kicked at the reminder. Thank You, Lord, for keeping me safe. She looked up and blinked against Seth’s assessing stare. “I’d like to clarify something, Detective. I didn’t drive off the mountain. I was run off the road by another vehicle.”
“Run off the road?” Seth’s eyebrows climbed. “We received a report from a man on his way home that he saw a vehicle skid out of control before going off the road.”
Paige took a shaky breath as pressure built in her chest just thinking about the horrible series of events. “The report you received was only partially correct. What the witness obviously didn’t see was the truck that had been on my tail for miles down Highway 321. He’d followed me off the Eagle’s Ridge exit. And before I could get away from him, he rammed into the side of my Jeep, sending me skidding out of control and into the ravine.”
“What kind of truck?” Seth pulled a small pad from his pocket.
“Long bed, extended cab,” she said, fingering her necklace, still not believing what had happened. “It was dark and stormy. I couldn’t make out much else.”
Frown lines swept across Seth’s forehead, narrowing his eyes. “And you didn’t call the sheriff’s office?”
His question cut to the core. Sheriff. After living through her brother’s fiasco for the last ten months, Boone law enforcement wasn’t exactly at the top of her list of people she hoped to run into during he
r return, especially Detective Seth Garrison.
Paige fought off a sigh and shrugged. “By the time I realized what was happening, I couldn’t get to my cell phone and there was no safe place to pull over.”
Seth looked as if he was going to say something but stopped. He probably wanted to chastise her for not being more careful. The former navy SEAL lived and breathed extreme caution. Always keep your phone close and don’t wait until something goes wrong. If you feel uncomfortable in a situation, get out of there and call for help. His notorious words rang in her head. But instead of issuing a reminder, Seth straightened his broad shoulders. Full-on cop mode. Reminding her this wasn’t personal. This was business.
She should have felt relief, but instead her heart slipped a bit.
“You mentioned the stormy weather conditions at the time of the accident,” Seth said, jolting her back to the present.
Paige blinked and breathed deep, readjusting her focus to the accident and not the man asking the questions. She lifted her chin slightly. “Yes, the weather was terrible.”
He raised a curious brow. “Is it safe to assume that you were traveling below the speed limit?”
“Yes.” She shrugged one shoulder. “That is, until the truck pulled up beside me, then I sped up trying to get away from him.”
Seth gave a subtle nod and scribbled something on his notepad. Uneasiness prickled the fine hairs on the back of her neck. She could almost see the thoughts churning in his head, and she didn’t like the vibes she was getting.
“Okay.” Seth stuffed the notepad in his pocket and cast her a look that said, I’ve got this figured out. “It sounds to me like you were a victim to a hit-and-run. Impatient drivers often tailgate slower vehicles, and unfortunately stormy weather doesn’t deter everyone. If the driver of the truck got annoyed and tried to get around you, his tires may have slipped on the wet road, which could have sent him into your lane.”
Paige bristled at Seth’s presumptuous assessment. He obviously wasn’t listening. “No, that’s not what happened,” she snapped and struggled to sit up straighter. “The driver knew exactly what he was doing. He rammed into the side of my Jeep, and as I futilely fought to get my vehicle under control, he took off, vanishing into the night.”
Kidnapped at Christmas Page 18
