Rescue At Cedar Lake. Maggie Black K.
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said, get off the snowmobile!” He stretched his arm out to its full length and tilted the gun sideways, like some kind of television gangster. “Both of you. Now. With your hands up.”
There was no way past him. They were stuck in a tiny little shed and he was about to shoot them at point-blank range. Her limbs began to shake. Her grip loosened on Alex’s body. Tears choked in the back of her throat and mingled with prayer.
Alex gunned the engine.
The snowmobile shot forward. Her body bounced back hard against the seat. The weapon fired. The snowmobile swerved hard to the right and she clung to Alex so tightly her arms ached. A second bullet split the air. Then she felt wind and snow smacking her body again. She opened her eyes. The snowmobile was flying through the woods. Bullets echoed behind them in the trees. Then the sound faded and all she could hear was the rush of the engine beneath her and the beating of her own heart in her chest. Trees grew thick around them, pressing in on all sides. Jagged rocks seemed to burst through the snow. Flakes filled her eyes like they were shooting through a galaxy of stars. She held on.
What was he thinking driving straight at Castor like that? Yes, Alex had saved their lives. Again. But he’d done so by risking getting shot. Something about that made her feel almost indignant. Alex was the kind of guy who’d just free-fall through life, trusting things would work out okay. Sure, he was right most of the time. In fact, there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that she was safer on the back of Alex’s snowmobile than she would be with anyone else in the world driving at this kind of speed, through these woods, in the snow. But did that mean he had what it took to be anybody’s bodyguard? Who’d pick up the pieces if, the next time he launched himself into danger, he was wrong?
As a teenager, the strong, daring young man with sun-bleached hair and dazzling blue eyes had always seemed like something out of a teenage heartthrob fantasy. She’d had a girlhood crush on him long before the day he’d dashingly rescued her from the capsized sailboat. Wakeboarding, water skiing, diving off the cliffs—it had seemed like there was nothing he couldn’t do. Except plan or think for more than two seconds ahead. There was a world of difference between instinctively leaping into action to rescue someone from a capsized boat and impulsively dropping out of college. She hadn’t been sure back then that Alex knew the difference. She’d lost count of how many times Zoe had recently tried to convince her that Alex had grown up and wasn’t that reckless guy anymore. Maybe. But she had yet to see it.
God, forgive me for sounding ungrateful. I’m thankful that Alex rescued me. Thank You that we both got out of there alive. But please, help him be wise and actually think through what we’re going to do next, to find Zoe and Mandy, and get us all home safe and alive.
The snowmobile was slowing already. She sat back. They’d left the Rhodes family cottage only a few minutes ago, but now another building loomed ahead of them out of the snow. A moment later she recognized the shape. It was Number Seven Cedar Lake, the Pattersons’ cottage. Despite the size of the lake, its wild and rugged landscape meant there were only eleven cottages dotted around it, like the numbers on a misshapen clock. They were owned by five different extended families, now that her family had sold their cottage: the Rhodes, the Deans, the Pattersons, the Mullocks and the Wrights.
John and Judith Patterson were a sweet, elderly couple who spent their summers at their small, nonwinterized cottage and every winter at their condo in Florida. Their son, Don, was a widower who’d built a large A-frame for himself and his children, Natalie and Corey, after his wife had died tragically. It had probably been twenty years ago now, and she’d been just a kid at the time, but still she remembered how everyone came together to help.
Then Don had been the first one to leap to her parents’ aid, years later, when they’d lost their business, buying up what remained of their inventory and taking over the lease on their store for his lumber business. Sudden sadness filled her chest so sharply it hurt. The little Cedar Lake community had been like a second, extended family who looked out for one another. One that she’d lost the summer she’d lost Alex.
The snowmobile slid smoothly around the far side of the cottage under the side awning. Alex cut the motor and they sat there for a half a breath, hearing nothing but the wind shaking the trees and snow buffeting the awning above them. Then, slowly, she pulled her arms from around his waist. He slid his visor up and looked back over his shoulder. “Are you okay?”
The depth of genuine concern in his tone was probably the only thing that kept her from asking if he had any idea what he was doing. At least now they’d have a moment to regroup.
She slid her visor up, too. “Yes, I’m okay. That man in the mask was Castor. I’m pretty sure of it.”
“Well, I think he’s the same man I saw shooting up the Rhodeses’s cottage and who killed Brick. Which does not bode well.” Alex swung his leg over and stood up. “Can I take it from the look on your face that you don’t like something about how I handled things back there?”
Was she still that transparent around him?
“You drove a snowmobile straight at a gunman.”
“He was going to kill us. We may not know much about these guys, but we know they’re not above murder.” He stretched. “But they’re also sloppy and reckless. Castor, as you call him, was only holding the gun with one hand. Which is cute if you’re trying to look all tough, but absolute garbage when it comes to aiming. My gut told me that if I was fast enough off the mark he’d have no hope of hitting us.” He shrugged. “I was right.”
All right, he had been right about that. Her studies in human psychology told her that there was a lot to be said for reading body language like that, and she could even concede that sometimes a person’s instincts took over and acted, before the rational brain had processed what they already knew. But it was one thing to believe these men were nothing but a ragtag group of amateurs. It was another to risk your life on that.
“So, we’ve stopped here to talk things through and make a plan?” She climbed off, too. The fact that Castor had killed his own henchman worried her, as did the fact he hadn’t taken the time to thoroughly check every corner of the cottage when he’d found her gone—despite how relieved she was he hadn’t seen them. But for now, she could only guess what all that could mean.
“Pretty much,” Alex said. “We should be safe here for a bit. This cottage is pretty hard to find from the main lake road if you don’t know what you’re looking for. If they were coming after us on snowmobiles we should have heard them by now. I’m going to try to call Zoe again on my cell phone and, also, the police and Daniel. Not that I expect I’ll be able to get a signal. So I’d like to try the CB radio, too. But that’s going to be trickier because anything we say on an open channel could be overheard.”
“Absolutely.” Theresa eased the backpack off her shoulders and pulled out the radio. “I’m sorry. You must be worried sick.”
“Yeah, I am.” He took it from her. “Zoe’s not just my little sister. She’s my colleague, and right now she’s somewhere with our client.”
He strode off down the side of the cottage under the porch roof.
“Alex, wait! You said you’re worried about being overheard on the radio. Like I tried to tell you, one of the guys called me by an old nickname.” She took a deep breath. “In fact, it was ‘finicky little princess.’”
She didn’t know what kind of response she’d expected from that, but it wasn’t the one she got. He didn’t even turn. “Okay, well, we can talk about that after if you think that means anything.”
If it meant anything? Didn’t he remember?
“But the kids at Cedar Lake used to call me princess, remember? And they thought I was spoiled.”
He still didn’t turn.
“The only person who ever called me a ‘finicky little princess’ was you. Just you. When you broke off our engagement.”
Alex spun back. His face had gone oddly pale. He opened his