by Webb, Peggy
Jonathan tried to flex his wounded hand, but it was swollen so big he couldn’t even move his fingers. And he didn’t want to think about his legs. He needed a doctor.
He needed a change of scene, too. This rat hole of a cabin was getting tiresome. Anywhere would be preferable to a place where a man couldn’t even go to the bathroom.
Even jail.
He listened for the dog from Hell to bark again, but it was so quiet out there you’d think he was all alone in here.
Major mistake. The footsteps headed his way belonged to Kate Carter.
She appeared in the hallway, holding a cup.
“Want some hot tea?” She inspected him like he was a bug under a microscope.
He was trussed up like Betty’s Christmas turkey. Kate had tied his legs and arms together with rope then bound his mouth with Duct tape. She’d even wrapped the tape around his arms and chest. It would take Houdini to get out.
“No, I guess not.” She smiled, then stepped closer, being careful of the slick patches where she’d poured cooking oil on the floor.
She’d even mopped oil all over the opening he’d made in the attic. When he’d finally gotten loose from that silly pair of pants she’d used to tie him up and taken the trap off his foot, he’d slipped through the hole like a greased hog. Broke his bad leg and probably his good leg, too.
That fall had knocked him out, but good.
When he woke up, he saw he’d wet all over himself. She hadn’t even bothered to mop it up. Just trussed him up and gone off to sit by the fire all night while he lay there on the stone-cold floor in his own urine.
She’d even made breakfast this morning and hadn’t offered him a bite. She’d just stood in the hall with her heaping plate and said now he knew how those poor captive girls had felt.
Kate was worse than Betty. He was glad her stupid mother and the stupid dog had found him. He needed rescuing from the little witch.
She gave him another wicked smile. “I came to say goodbye.”
Good riddance was more like it. He couldn’t wait for her to go.
“I’m going home with my parents and Jefferson, and you’re going to prison.”
Prison would be a welcome relief from her. He couldn’t wait for her to get out of his sight.
Unfortunately, his fall had positioned him so he had a clear view of her all the way to the front door.
She walked off like a princess. When she got to the front, she skirted the marbles she’d scattered. The buoy bell she’d hung on the door clanged when she opened it, and Kate walked into the light.
Chapter Twenty-Five
11:10 a.m.
When Joe’s daughter walked through the door, he fell to his knees and cried. A castoff snowsuit bagged around her, her gloves were mismatched, her face was raw and peeling and her hair was a tangled mess. He’d never seen a more beautiful sight in his life.
Maggie got to her first. They fell into each other’s arms, crying and talking at the same time. Joe gave his wife and daughter their private moment. When Kate told her mother she’d tied up her captor and he was in need of a doctor, Joe’s chest swelled with pride.
He and Maggie had done something right. Proof was standing three feet away.
“That’s my girl!” Maggie told her. Then his wife moved quickly into finding out what the monster had done to Kate.
“I’m fine, Mom. Don’t worry”
When his daughter added that the monster hadn’t touched her, not in that way, Joe felt his entire body unclench. The nightmare was finally over.
Almost.
He made the radio call to Roger that sent an AW180 SAR helicopter into the wilderness. Along with its normal staff of two pilots, a console operator, paramedic rescue diver and attendant, the chopper had an eighteen passenger capability--plenty of room to bring a team of detectives and forensics experts in and airlift Joe’s family out. Including the other hero of the day, Jefferson.
Jonathan Westberg left the wilderness on a litter shoved up against the chopper’s hospital wall. He was hooked up to IVs and they’d finally given him enough pain medication to knock him out. His silence was a welcome relief from the screaming and ranting and whining he’d done when the paramedic tore the duct tape off his mouth.
Fortunately the hospital wall was at the back and the attendant had closed off the section with a curtain. Though Joe and his family were vividly aware of his presence, at least they didn’t have look at him.
Kate seemed perfectly fine riding along in the same chopper with the monster. And why wouldn’t she? She’d whipped him at every turn, mentally, emotionally and physically. She’d rendered him helpless, a slobbering wreck of a man.
Joe and Maggie had heard the full story while they waited for the chopper. That Kate was not traumatized and was still strong enough to talk about her ordeal was remarkable. That she had survived it was a miracle.
Joe couldn’t have been prouder of his daughter. His Katie would be fine. She had the resiliency of youth and a loving family on her side.
He glanced at his wife. Would they be a loving family going forward?
Though Maggie clung to Kate’s hand and smiled at their daughter, she still carried the rigors of the search in her stiff posture. She still carried the trauma in her tight jaw and her eyes. Especially her eyes. The warm spark was missing. And in its place was a deep uncertainty.
Maggie was holding something back, and she was barely holding herself together.
The snow-bound wilderness receded as the chopper climbed. It would take longer for the memories to fade. Joe was determined they wouldn’t become his nightmares in the way of 9-11. And he was equally determined to do everything in his power to keep his family together—and safe.
* * *
11:00 p.m.
Kate lay in her own bed, sleeping on her back with one arm flung above her head and the other wrapped around Jefferson.
Maggie’s amazing dog had lifted his head the moment she’d appeared in the doorway. She and Jefferson stared at each other now, communicating without words.
We found her. She’s safe. We won’t lose her again. Not ever.
Joe came up behind her and peered over her shoulder. “She okay?” he whispered.
“Yes.” Maggie half turned to smile at him. “For the fifteenth time tonight.”
“Go ahead. Call me a helicopter dad. I don’t mind.”
Kate stirred and they watched from the doorway to make sure she wouldn’t start tossing with nightmares. There was nothing anxious in her movements, nothing to alarm. She was just an ordinary healthy teenager, sleeping deeply after her extraordinary feats.
Maggie put her finger to her lips and led the way back into the den. Joe had kept the fire going and turned on the Christmas tree lights. He’d even made hot chocolate with a dash of cinnamon. Served in Christmas mugs. The scent intoxicated. It was Maggie’s favorite holiday indulgence. Forget the sugar and calories.
She sank onto the sofa and he sat down beside her. Close. A good sign. Usually he sat in the recliner across the room.
“I thought we deserved a treat,” he said.
“You bet.” She lifted her cup, thought briefly of proposing a toast, but quickly rejected the idea. What on earth would it be? Cheers seemed trite after the last two days. And how could you possibly reduce what had happened to them into a sound bite?
“Mags, I talked to Roger.”
“When?” Since their return from the nightmare, she’d tried to be aware of every little thing happening in her house. Constant vigilance was exhausting.
“While you were in the shower.” Joe set his Christmas mug on the coffee table. Rudolph with his red nose and a goofy grin on his face. The mug looked so ordinary, so homey and hopeful, Maggie had to battle back tears. She desperately wanted ordinary. “He said the body in the barrel at the Westberg house belonged to Harvey Westberg, Jonathan’s father. He wanted us to know ahead of the news.”
“You’re kidding. Did the monster kill his ow
n dad?”
“No. Jonathan thought his dad had left them when he was four years. When he heard the news, he started singing like a bird. He said his mom was an expert with weapons and kept a Winchester rifle and a Colt .45 in her bedroom. Chances are she put the bullet hole in Harvey’s skull.”
“What about the girls that little creep killed? And what he did to Kate? Is some high-powered defense attorney going to come forward and help him wiggle out of that?”
“He confessed to killing both girls and kidnapping Kate. And Katie will be a powerful witness for the prosecution. We don’t have to worry about him getting off and coming after her again.”
Maggie set her coffee cup on the table and leaned back against the sofa.
“You should go to bed,” Joe said. “I’ll put Kate’s things under the tree.”
“Are you kidding? You think I’d miss playing Santa because of that evil troll?”
“That’s my girl.”
Joe grinned at her, and Maggie didn’t feel the least bit silly that the two of them still put Santa gifts under the tree for a nineteen year old. Kate had figured out Santa fourteen years ago, but all three of them loved the tradition. It was part of the magic of Christmas.
They scurried around, digging gifts out of hiding places and wrapping them together, Joe making sharp corners on the holiday wrapping paper and Maggie tying the bows. When they’d finished, Joe said all they needed was a plate of cookies and a glass of milk waiting by the fireside for the jolly old man in red.
“No,” she said. “It needs one more gift.”
“I thought this was it.”
“Not quite.”
Maggie hurried to their bedroom and removed the gift from her lingerie drawer. She couldn’t wait till morning. She wouldn’t sleep a wink that night wondering if her big secret would be a hit or a miss.
Sure, she and Joe had talked about the twins last night. But when your life and the life of everyone you loved was on the line, it was easier to unburden your soul. It was more natural, somehow, to believe that airing long-held grievances would make them vanish.
Maggie knew it wouldn’t be that simple to repair years of damage. But she had to start somewhere. And she preferred to start in private. Just the two of them.
Uncertainty nagged at her as she went back to the den, holding the gift behind her back. Joe looked up and smiled.
“There you are!”
“Here I am.” She held out the slender package, wrapped in gold foil and tied with a gold bow. “I have a gift.”
“For me?”
“No. For us.” When she handed it over, he lifted an eyebrow. Such a sexy, sardonic look. She hadn’t seen it in a long time.
“You want me to open it now?”
“Please.”
He took his time untying the bow and setting it aside, slicing the tape with his pocketknife and unfolding the paper so she could recycle it for next year. Joe was like that. Methodical.
No. That sounded boring, something her husband had never been.
He was careful.
When he pulled the gift from its wrappings and stood there, speechless, her tension went up a notch.
“Aren’t you going to say anything, Joe?”
“When did you get these?”
“A few weeks ago.” Her heart squeezed. What was going through his mind?
“You knew what you wanted, even then?”
“Yes. If you’ll remember, only day before yesterday I made a fool of myself over you in the kitchen.”
“You never make a fool of yourself, Maggie. Why didn’t you tell me last night when we talked?”
“I didn’t want a fresh start to be intertwined with the most horrible thing that has ever happened to us.”
His grin was a sudden and blooming thing, the spring-thaw moment she’d waited years to see.
“Hawaii in January.” He glanced at the tickets, still smiling. “Just us.”
“Paradise for two.”
“How are we going to pull this off?”
He’d said we. The two of them. Together.
“Kate will be back in school. Roger and Clair said they’d be surrogate parents for her and Jefferson, both. And Kate will be glad to spend some extra time with Teresa.”
“Hmmm.” Joe looked deep in thought, and Maggie had a moment’s doubt.
She’d bought the tickets long before a raving madman had kidnapped her daughter. When the time came, could she fly off to a sunny climate and leave her daughter behind? Could her husband?
“You’re not worried about leaving her are you, Joe?”
“Are you kidding me? After what she did, maybe we ought to take her along as a bodyguard.”
Joe reached for her, and their laughter brought Kate and Jefferson both to the door. Their dog wagged his tail and their daughter studied them with sleepy confusion. Suddenly, comprehension dawned.
“Am I interrupting anything? I hope.”
“Yes.” Maggie and Joe spoke in unison, then Joe said, “Go back to bed, sleepyhead.”
“Not a chance! Merry Christmas, you two.” Grinning Kate marched into the den and wrapped her arms around both parents.
Yes, Maggie thought. This.
It was the perfect moment. Love spun with a silver thread so strong the Carter family could withstand anything thrown at them by nature and man. Gratitude so deep it was endless. And hope that even a monster storm and a monster killer couldn’t stamp out.*
* * *
Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this book, please do leave a review.
Read on for a sneak peek of the next STORM WATCH novel, Snow Blind by Cindy Gerard.
SNEAK PEEK
SNOW BLIND
STORMWATCH, Book 6
by Cindy Gerard
Copyright © 2019 by Cindy Gerard
* * *
Prologue
Rome, Italy
June, 18 months ago
Josh Haskins maneuvered her royal high-brow, Princess Anastasia Gerhardt – aka: Ms. Blond, beautiful and bratty – firmly behind him and away from the pack of bar lizards, fending them off as he backed toward the alley exit of the mobbed party bar.
True to form, the princess had dragged him into the middle of the obscenely rich and spoiled Italian jet set scene, dressed like a designer slut in her lipstick red mini dress and attracting every stray dog and lone wolf with a yen to howl.
“This is so bogus,” he muttered beneath a grinding rock beat and a full on testosterone blast. They came at her like worker drones flocking to the queen bee. No one, however, was allowed to taste her honey. Not on his watch.
Good Lord. This was his first official, full-fledged assignment as a Rapid Response Alliance operative? Was he hunting terrorists in the middle of the Congo? Running recon on a snatch and grab op in the Middle East? Even guarding a diplomatic cadre to a top secret security meeting? Oh, hell, no.
His first mission was to: A) keep the princess happy, B) keep the princess safe, and C) keep the princess from creating an international incident.
At the moment, C was giving him the most trouble. That and his simmering temper.
“You don’t want to do this,” Josh warned as an inebriated Romeo, stunning in a black, silk shirt opened to his navel, a boatload of bling hanging around his neck, and skin-tight do-you-like-my-package leather pants, separated himself from the pack and made a move toward the princess.
The wannabe paramour took one look at the dark rage on Josh's face and thought better of his decision. Not so drunk after all, Josh was happy to report. The problem was, at least ten other contenders were circling the campfire, ready to take a crack at roasting Anastasia's marshmallows.
“It wasn’t enough that you had to incite a riot in that almost dress,” he sputtered to her royal pain-in-the ass. “You had to hop up on the bar. Had to pour champagne down your cleavage and invite every Tom, Dick, and Horny to come and lick it off.”
Behind him, Anastasia giggled. “A girl’s gotta have fun.”
Josh glanced over his shoulder and glared into flirty, fiery, blue eyes. Blue like a summer sky he’d thought the first time he’d seen them. Ha. Blue like the color his balls were gonna be if he didn’t get her out of this den of dickwads and soon.
He ducked a flying beer bottle, shoved the princess more securely behind him, and swore to God that if he got her out of this mess without creating that international incident she was bent on making, he was going to throw her over his knee and whale the tar out of her sexy little behind. PC or not.
“So help me God, Antipasto,” he grumbled as he held back the pack crocked on vino and hell bent on tasting the Princess’s bountiful cleavage, “when I get you back to the hotel, we’re going to have us a little come to Jesus meeting.”
“Sounds positively … spiritual,” the princess of the newly sovereign nation of Slarovia purred into his ear in perfect English as she dug red lacquered nails that matched her dress deeper into his shoulders.
She squealed then ducked behind him when a particularly brave – read: stupid – admirer made a grab at her. A quick chop to his arm and a well-placed knee to his breadbasket dispensed with Stupid.
Another one bites the dust.
The floor was already littered with the guys’ ‘brothers in rut’ who’d thought they were going to worship at the altar of the ultimate one night stand.
Another bottle flew by just as Josh made it to the exit and backed the princess through the door and into a heat drenched Italian night pungent with the scents of garlic and wine and trouble.
Man, this sucked. Josh Haskins had never quit on anything in his life, yet five bullet-sweating, tongue-biting days into this assignment watch dogging the high-maintenance, party animal, Anastasia, and saving her blue-blooded hide from one scrape after another, and he was ready to cash in his chips.
“Babysitter. That’s all I am. A glorified babysitter,” he grumbled as he dragged her away from the bar at a brisk clip and finally left the wannabe bad boys behind.
