Rescue At Cedar Lake. Maggie K. Black
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right as breathing.
If someone had told him, even an hour ago, that he would ever hold Theresa in his arms again, he’d have laughed. But he’d loved her once, she’d been his friend and right now she needed him. Something inside him whispered that he wouldn’t be able to keep those old, lingering feelings at bay forever, but for right now, he needed to be stronger than his heartache.
“How are you even here?” she asked. “There’s no way you could’ve made the drive that quickly.”
“I took a snowmobile across the lake.”
“That’s crazy.” She pulled back out of his embrace. “It’s been a really warm winter. Or, at least, it was until recently. The lake never froze properly. There’s no way the ice is consistently thick enough for that to be safe, especially in the middle. You could’ve fallen through.”
He crossed his arms. She was right. It hadn’t been safe. It had been downright risky. But her life had been in danger. He’d taken a calculated risk in order to save her.
“It was fine,” he said. “I kept an eye on the shifts in the colors of the ice patterns, followed the channel markers and watched out for the buoys. I know this lake.” He looked down. “You’ve got duct tape on your sleeves.”
“Castor taped my wrists together behind my back.” She ran her hands over her arms self-consciously. “Fortunately, he did it over the sweatshirt and not on my skin.”
Part of him wanted to ask if he was right in thinking the sweatshirt was his old one, and if so, why she was wearing it. But something inside stopped him.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “How did you get free?”
“I tore it loose on a metal bucket in the cupboard that they threw me in.” Her fingers picked at the duct tape. “I’m guessing you haven’t heard from Zoe and Mandy?”
His jaw tightened. Surely it couldn’t be a coincidence that gunmen decided to ransack Mandy’s cottage the same weekend that Zoe brought her up for a quiet study break, could it?
“No,” he said. “I tried Zoe’s cell phone again before I left the cottage but I couldn’t get a signal. I placed a really quick internet call to my boss, Daniel, on the laptop, though, and let him know what was happening. He said he’d keep trying to reach her and obviously that he’d also call the police and send them straight here. But considering the road and the distance, it’ll take the police a while to get here and we’ve got to get out of here, now.”
His eyes glanced at the shattered glass of the broken windows.
“Needless to say, we still have a lot we need to talk about,” he went on. “But not here. We’ve got to get somewhere safer and quickly. I don’t know who did this, but they could come back, especially if they think you’re connected to this secret trunk somehow. Grab your winter gear. I’m going to check out the body.”
He could see the desire to argue forming in her eyes. But she pushed it down.
“Okay, we’ll talk once we’re somewhere safe.” She ran for the back hallway.
He crossed over to the body on the floor. He’d always appreciated how focused Theresa could be when necessary. But he desperately wished Zoe hadn’t brought Theresa into it. Knowing this whole mess had put her in danger made everything harder. He crouched beside the body on the floor. Brick’s winter jacket and gear were a popular, mass-produced brand available from countless stores and told him nothing. He used the camera on his cell phone to take a picture of Brick’s face. Then he took the man’s wallet from his pocket, flipped it open and pulled out his driver’s license.
“Says his name is Kenneth Brick,” he called. “He’s from Port Hope, Ontario. Age twenty-three. Looks like he works as a cashier at a supermarket.”
“Never heard of him, and I’ve never seen him before.”
“Me neither.” Alex took a picture of the driver’s license, too, put it back in the wallet and set the wallet next to the body. “Should we?”
“One of his buddies said something that made me question if he was familiar with Cedar Lake.” She hesitated. “He alluded to an old nickname of mine.”
“Well, the kids around here had all sorts of stupid nicknames flying around, none of which were exactly original, so I wouldn’t take it personally. But they know who Mandy is, so I wouldn’t be surprised if there was some kind of connection to the lake. Let’s add that to the list of things we talk about later. Safety first. Talk second.”
She didn’t look convinced, but they’d paused here long enough and there really wasn’t time to draw this conversation out any longer. He grabbed the remains of a blanket and draped it over the body. When he looked up again, Theresa was standing behind him with a backpack in her hand.
He stood up. “What’s that?”
“My emergency kit.” She slung it over both shoulders. “It’s got a first aid kit, a change of clothes, duct tape, a fire starter, a CB radio and some snacks. Everything’s in waterproof bags, so it’ll be fine in the snow.”
He blinked—even though he knew better than to be surprised, considering it was Theresa. He waited as she slid a pair of snow pants on over her jeans and laced up a pair of winter boots. Then she pulled a heavy, hooded winter jacket on and zipped it up.
They ran for the back door and pushed out into the snow. It was already up to their calves and growing deeper by the second. She followed him down the driveway and into a small, wooden storage shed.
“The snow’s gotten bad.” Theresa shook the flakes from her hair.
“It’s going to get a lot worse,” Alex said. What had fallen so far was only a small taste of the deluge the forecast was predicting. He took the spare helmet off the back of the snowmobile and gave it to her. “My truck is back at my cottage. So, the plan is we head to my cottage, I’ll call Daniel with my laptop, fill him in and we’ll figure out our next move. Hopefully the power will still be on when we get there and Zoe will be sitting there with Mandy, waiting for us.”
He closed his eyes. Lord, I just pray that wherever Zoe is, she’s all right. She’s strong and she’s fierce. But she might be out in a snowstorm with a client I’m not sure I trust and killers on the loose.
When he opened his eyes, Theresa was looking at him. Strands of dark hair had slipped from the furry hood of her ski jacket. Even now, in the gloomy light of the shed, with flakes swirling like a meteor shower behind her, he had to admit he’d never seen anything like her. It was hard to put into words, but in a world of unstable and transient things, Theresa had always been like a tree, a willow tree, maybe, with roots so long and deep he knew if he just stayed close enough to her he could ride out any storm.
Until she’d cut him off, and left him rootless and drifting.
“I know you’re worried about Zoe.” Theresa’s hand brushed his arm. “She’s going to be okay. She’s smart. If she made it to town and saw the weather forecast before the storm hit, she probably just found a coffee shop or restaurant to ride it out in.”
“I hope so.” He waited as she put the helmet on then climbed on the snowmobile. Her long legs slid over the back of it behind him. She hesitated. Then her hands slid about his waist, in a gesture somehow both so familiar and foreign that he felt his brain almost short-circuit for a moment as he reached for the ignition. “Hold tight. This could get rough.”
The engine turned over.
A tall, broad-shouldered figure in a ski mask stepped into the open doorway, blocking their way to freedom. There was a small, automatic handgun in his hand. “You two aren’t going anywhere.”
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