Rescue at Cedar Lake

by Maggie K. Black

  “Because you didn’t give me any other choice!” He ran his hand over his head, like he couldn’t actually believe the words was hearing. “You knew I was miserable in that program. You knew I wanted to quit. It wasn’t on a whim. But you kept insisting I stick it out. Don’t you get it? You were the most important thing in my world back then—the only important thing in my world—and rather than trying to understand where I was coming from, you just stood there, criticizing me and berating me and making me feel like I was worthless. You made me feel like I wasn’t good enough for you because I didn’t have a real job or enough money saved up in the bank.”

  She stood up. He stood, too.

  No, she hadn’t told him any of that. She couldn’t have. Could she? Because that’s not what she remembered feeling. She’d been scared and worried for her future. She’d been upset he’d quit another university program. But she’d still loved him. She’d still wanted to marry him. How could they be remembering the past so differently?

  “You ran,” she said. Her head shook. “Things got tough between us and you ran. Like you always do. You got one glimpse of how hard real grown-up life and marriage was going to be and you bailed.”

  “I didn’t bail on you. I was pushed,” he said. “I just wish you’d have let me step up and be there for you. I wish you’d have let me help!”

  “Let you?” Her voice rose. “What was stopping you? You could’ve come to the bankruptcy auction and held my hand, or followed me when I ran off crying because it was all too much for me to handle. You could’ve doubled down on your desire to marry me and stubbornly insisted we were still going to get married and that you’d help me find a way to make it work. You could’ve taken charge, instead of counting on me to sort everything out. Or, at least, you could’ve helped share the load.”

  “Like you’d have ever trusted me to take charge of anything.” He threw his hands up in the air. “Don’t you remember what you were like? You had to be in control of everything. You were particular. You got so anxious and worried if things didn’t work out just the way you wanted them to. You were such a—”

  His voice cut off suddenly, with a grimace, like the taste of the words that he was about to speak tasted rotten on his tongue.

  “‘Such a finicky little princess,’” she said. “That’s what you were going to say, right?”

  “No.” He met her gaze, full-on and unflinching. “I was going to say, such a frightened young woman who didn’t know how to let me love her.”

  Her lips shook. No, she hadn’t been that at all, had she? It’d all been his fault for running away. Hadn’t it?

  “Well, if you’d loved me, you should’ve fought for me.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. I should’ve.” He took a step toward her. Tension crackled between them like sparks in the fire. “But I didn’t know how to, and neither did you.”

  “Break, break. Hello?” A voice crackled through the CB radio, female and frightened. “Anybody there? I think something bad is happening, and I don’t know what to do.”

  TEN

  Theresa spun around, searching for the source of the sound. But Alex got to the radio first. He snatched it up from the table by the wall.

  “Hi! I mean, come in,” Alex said. There was a long pause on the other end. Then he added, “Over?”

  “Are you with the police?” the young voice continued, in that very serious tone a child puts on when they’re trying to hide the fact that they’re frightened. “I need to talk to the police. Over.”

  Theresa’s hand touched his arm and whispered. “Remember, she’s only a child.”

  Alex paused. Then he handed the radio to Theresa and whispered, “You talk to her this time.”

  Theresa took the radio.

  “Copy that,” Theresa said softly. “I’m sorry, we’re not the police. Do you have a telephone? You need to call nine-one-one. Over.”

  The girl sniffed and, to Theresa’s relief, it sounded more frustrated than scared.

  “I called nine-one-one before. But they yelled at me for being ‘a stupid kid making a crank call’ and said, ‘they were tired of pranks like mine when there are real emergencies out there.’” There was a pause. “I’m not a little kid by the way. I’m turning nine in April.”

  “Ah. That must’ve been frustrating.” Theresa sat down on the edge of the couch, feeling an invisible psychotherapist cloak slide over her shoulders like a mantle. She’d counseled so many kids in her line of work, kids who’d learned at a young age just how hard life could be. “My name’s Theresa. I want to listen to you and see if I can help you. This is Bee, right? You talked to my friend Alex before. Can I call you Bee?”

  “No, you can’t. Only my daddy calls me Bee.”

  Alex stifled a snort. Theresa smiled. “How about April then? Because your birthday’s in April.”

  The voice paused a moment. “Okay. I guess that’s okay.”

  “Why do you need to call the police, April? Are you hurt? Are you in danger?”

  “No. I’m okay. I’m in my grandpa’s house. He’s outside trying to shovel or something so my daddy’s able to get in the driveway when he gets home. He drives a truck. He should’ve been here a long time ago. Sometimes daddy and I talk on the radio, for fun. He taught me radio voice procedure words, but I don’t always remember to use them.”

  “That’s okay,” Theresa said. “We don’t know them very well, either.”

  “Daddy’s not answering his radio. The roads are bad and there’s lots of accidents.” Her voice dropped. “I’m not supposed to be on the radio when there are storms and accidents.”

  Alex coughed. Theresa looked up. His fingers spun in a speed-it-up motion. She shot him a warning glance and slid her palm over the speaker.

  “She’s not answering your questions,” he hissed.

  “Yeah, I got that. She’s a kid. Kids don’t always get to the point, especially when they’re scared. Now let me do my job.” She turned her back to him. “I can understand why your grandpa doesn’t want you on the radio when there are a lot of accidents. Are you listening to hear if your daddy’s truck is safe?”

  “Uh-huh.” April sniffed.

  “I’ll pray your daddy gets home safe. I’m looking for two of my friends. I think they’re lost, too. Their names are Zoe and Mandy. Have you heard them on the radio?”

  “No,” April said. “But I keep hearing angry men shouting. Using a lot of really bad words.”

  “That sounds scary and confusing.”

  “I’m almost nine,” April said, again. “I’ve heard lots of bad words before. Grandpa and Daddy just don’t let me say them.”

  Theresa stifled a smile. “Well, you sound very smart and they sound like they love you very much.”

  “The angry men at Cedar Lake said they were going to kill someone if they didn’t find some box. Well, one of them said he was going to kill someone.”

  “How many angry men were there?”

  “Two. I think. I’m not sure.”

  “Now, I need you to think really hard, April. Did they mention any names? Or who they were going to kill?”

  There was a long pause. “Tanner is a name, right?”

  Theresa’s eyes met Alex’s. Tanner Mullock.

  “Yes, April. That’s a name.”

  “I told Grandpa about the angry men and we called the police together,” she said. “I talked to them, too, because I’d heard the stuff on the radio. But the police said they’d already received one hoax call about trouble out there tonight and if people didn’t stop making prank calls they’d throw us in jail.”

  Theresa felt her jaw drop. Alex’s eyebrows rose and she could see the frustration and worry filling his eyes. Had police dismissed the call his boss had placed about her being attacked? But why? Surely if they’d done th
eir jobs and made their way to Mandy Rhodes’s cottage they’d have found it destroyed and also Brick’s body.

  “Grandpa said the police were really stupid sometimes and went outside to shovel the snow,” April added. “I don’t think the police understood the part about Tanner being a name.”

  It didn’t sound like the police had taken April’s grandfather seriously. But it was hard to know what exactly he’d told them. What was more worrying was the idea that Daniel had called in a very serious crime and they hadn’t taken it seriously.

  “Hi, April, my name’s Alex.” He knelt down beside the radio. “I was a bit rude to you before. I’m sorry about that.”

  “It’s okay,” April said grudgingly. “Are you friends with Theresa?”

  “Really good friends,” Alex said. “She’s a really good person to talk to when you’re scared or upset about something. I probably should’ve let her talk to you before.” His eyes flickered over her face, and warmth spread down her limbs. “Now I need you to be really brave and listen, okay, April? My little sister, Zoe, is one of the women that’s missing. I’m really worried for her. The police need to know about her and Mandy. I’m sorry the police were mean to you. Adults aren’t always good listeners. My friend Corey got in trouble with the police when I was younger, and I think that was really hard for him. But my best friend Joshua’s dad is a really good police officer. I need you to get your grandpa to try and call my boss Daniel and give him a message for me. Can you try and do that?”

  There was a long pause, and for a moment Theresa feared they’d lost her. Alex’s hand slipped over hers and squeezed.

  “I’m going to go get Grandpa, okay?”

  The radio went to static. Theresa looked at Alex. He was still holding her hand.

  “What do you think it means that Castor mentioned Tanner Mullock’s name?” she asked.

  There was crash outside, like a heavy tree branch had broken off from the storm and toppled to the ground. He dropped her hand and leaped to his feet.

  “Stay here,” he said. “I’m going to check that out. Hopefully it’s nothing, but I don’t want to risk it.”

  * * *

  “If April gets her grandfather, give him Daniel’s phone number and a quick rundown of what’s happening,” Alex said. He shoved his feet into boots. “He doesn’t have to call the police if he doesn’t want to. He can just call Daniel. But remember, as long as we’re on an open channel, other people can listen in so don’t say anything that could compromise our safety or give away our position.” He started for the door. “And if you hear anything that sounds like trouble, find something to protect yourself with and hide.”

  “Stay safe,” Theresa said. “Please. Don’t do anything crazy. If there’s danger, don’t rush into it and try to be a hero.”

  He turned back. She was standing in front of the fire, just three steps away from him. More care than he’d ever hoped to see glimmered in the depths of her green eyes.

  But it was clear now that she’d never understood why he’d walked away from her all those years ago. And she still saw him as that rash, foolhardy, irresponsible kid he’d been a long time ago. He shouldn’t have kissed her. Twice now he’d allowed himself to get caught up in his emotions and let his heart overrule his brain. He couldn’t let that happen again.

  “Being a hero is kind of my job now.” A wry smile turned at the corner of his lips. “It’s what I’ve trained for and prepared for in the almost two years it took to build Ash Private Security. You did an amazing job talking to April. You’re clearly a great psychotherapist. Now, I’ve got to go do my job, too. And I need you to stay safe, stay out of the way and try to get a message out through April’s grandfather.”

  “Okay.” The smile dropped from her lips.

  “Thank you. Now, hopefully that noise was nothing but some falling ice. But I need to make sure. I’ll be right back.”

  Then, without letting himself look back, he grabbed a ski mask from a basket of winter gear by the door, yanked it down his head and stepped out into the falling snow. The evening sky had grown dark behind the clouds. Snow lashed down, blurring his vision and making the ground slick beneath his feet. His eyes scanned the darkness, waiting for some kind of sound or motion to let him know which way to go. Carefully he paced along the side of the cottage then back again. Nothing.

  He paused at the cottage doorway and glanced in, fighting the urge to go back inside. Theresa now knelt by the fire. Golden firelight illuminated her skin. Her long hair shone dark bronze. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his life. He swallowed hard. If he was honest, maybe she’d never been a true partner in his eyes. Instead, she’d been a trophy to be won, back at the time he’d collected trophies with ease. She’d been the one, shiny, perfect thing he’d wanted by his side, through thick and thin, because he’d loved her and needed her with the shallow emotions of a youth who hadn’t yet learned how to stand on his own two feet and whose loyalty and strength had never been tested.

  Now, here he was, just a couple of years into a job at a new company, paying off the debts of his past mistakes and bunking with his sister on Daniel’s country property. He owned no land, had invested most of his savings in his bodyguard training and had no career stability. He might be almost thirty, but he was no closer to giving Theresa the life she deserved, let alone the kind of life that had once been ripped out from under her. Now it was time he let the dream of her go.

  A light flickered to his right, off and on so quickly he wondered for a moment if his eyes were playing tricks on him. He headed toward it. For a long moment he walked blindly, the snow heavy under his feet, seeing nothing but shades of white and gray. Thick, blowing snow stung his skin. He rolled the ski mask down over his face. Then came another flicker of yellow light, lighting up the snow.

  He stumbled down the hill until he reached a small two-story building, half-hidden in the woods. It was too big to be a shed and too small to be a cottage. He felt along the aluminum siding and to find a door. It was ajar. He paused with his hand on the doorframe and listened. Silence. Was this another trap? And if so, what was he going to do about it? If one of Castor’s men, or somebody else who was after this trunk, was hiding out this close to where Theresa now sat, curled up by the fire, then Alex couldn’t sit back and ignore the potential threat, even if it meant risking his own life in the process.

  He whispered a prayer for strength, speed and, above all, wisdom. Then, slowly and carefully, he slipped inside. Shadowy shapes came into focus before his eyes in the dim light. There was a knee-high table with four small chairs, a cabinet lined with wooden animals and a long box along the wall. A narrow ladder led up to a hole in the floor above. Small puddles of melting snow glimmered on the ground.

  Somebody had been here. Maybe they still were. He had to draw them out and make them fight on his terms, not theirs. He was done with walking into traps.

  In one quick, seamless motion he snatched up a handful of snow and threw it at the shadow in the corner of the room. The shadows shifted. A feminine figure dashed across the floor toward the ladder. A sudden bright light flashed in his eyes, blinding him. Alex raised his hands to strike.

  ELEVEN

  Shielding his eyes, Alex leaped toward the blinding light and aimed a decisive blow across the jaw of the figure behind it. But his blow never landed. The flashlight clattered onto the floor and rolled, sending wild shadows flying around the wooden space. The figure jumped two steps up onto the ladder, just long enough to dodge his fist, then launched at him. A quick one-two of sharp fists struck his stomach with punches that nearly knocked the air from his lungs and would have taken a lesser man to the floor.

  Then she leaped back. Her hands rose steadily in front of her, ready to fight.

  He didn’t need the light to know that fighting stance. Relief exploded in his heart. “Zoe!”
<
br />   “Oh, wow, Alex?” His sister’s voice rushed out in a whisper. “Really? It’s you?”

  “Yeah, it’s really me.” He yanked off the ski mask. His tiny sister launched herself at him in a hug. Thank You, God! His sister was safe. “Where’s Mandy?”

  “Upstairs.” She hugged him so hard he felt it in his ribs. Then she stepped back. “This place has an attic with bunks. We were going to wait out the storm here and then try to get to Theresa.”

  “Theresa’s with me,” he said. “She’s in the Wrights’ cottage. We let ourselves in. I heard a crack that sounded like falling ice, came outside to check on it and saw the flashlight flickering.”

  Zoe whispered a prayer of relief.

  “The flashlight was me,” she said. “I heard the ice falling, too. The storm’s taking out a lot of tree branches.”

  She climbed up the ladder a few steps and stuck her head through the hole in the floor. “Mandy? Alex and Theresa are here.”

  He didn’t hear an answer. Then Zoe leaped back down.

  “She’s passed out cold, asleep,” she said. “She’s exhausted. Mandy didn’t sleep at all last night, she just kept pacing. Then there was the car crash and we had to run here through the snow on foot. The Wrights built this place as a bunkhouse for their kids last summer. I just can’t believe you got my message to come here. It was a real wild shot.”

  Her message.

  “You scratched letters with your knife in the car?” He hazarded a guess, even though his gut told him what she was about to say.

  Zoe nodded. “Yes. After I took Mandy into town, I drove past the road that led to the emergency meeting point, saw tire tracks and knew it was compromised. I was heading back to meet up with Theresa, when some nut job ran me off the road. I heard gunfire and had about two seconds to figure out where to go and how to send Theresa a message.”

  “You did well,” he said. “Theresa figured it out.”