Mountain Hostage Page 3

  Once she had come down from her emotional spin, she surmised that Jack was highly intelligent and socially challenged, perhaps even on the spectrum. He and his dog with the four names had stayed close to her when SAR helped her down the trail.

  Away from Shannon.

  Would she ever see her again?

  “Hello?” a voice said from the other side of the curtain.

  “Yes?”

  Jack stepped into the examining area and stood at the foot of her bed.

  “Shouldn’t you be out looking for Shannon?” she said. Then a horrible thought seized her. “Unless...”

  “We’ve cleared the section of trail up to Prairie’s Peak,” Jack answered.

  “And you haven’t found her?”

  “No.”

  “So that’s it? You’re giving up?” She realized she was being awfully hard on the man who’d saved her life.

  “They’ve temporarily called off the mission due to weather,” he said. “If there was any way to continue the search, I would be out there.”

  “Of course.” Zoe sighed. “I wish I knew why this was happening to us.”

  “Maybe your friend got involved with the wrong people.”

  She snapped her attention to him. “Excuse me?”

  “Your friend got involved—”

  “I heard you the first time. Why would you even think that?”

  He shrugged.

  “Well, it’s not true.”

  “People aren’t usually randomly kidnapped without cause.”

  “How dare you malign Shannon. You haven’t even met her.”

  He just looked at her.

  “Well, say something,” she said.

  “Like what?”

  “Like you’re sorry for starters.”

  “You posed the question, so I assumed you wanted—”

  “It was a rhetorical question, thank you very much.”

  A puzzled frown creased his forehead. His suggestion bothered her more than it should, which meant...she sensed potential validity to his comment.

  “I’m feeling exceptionally vulnerable and I need people around me that I can trust,” she said. She was a jumble of emotions and feared she might completely lose it in front of this stranger. She wanted privacy. She wanted counsel with God.

  She needed her friend back.

  A man in a dark suit joined them. “Miss Pratt, I’m Detective Perry.” He narrowed his eyes at Jack. “What are you doing here?”

  “Checking on Zoe.”

  Zoe felt anxious and confused, both by Jack’s accusation and her own visceral response.

  “I need to question Miss Pratt,” Detective Perry said.

  With a slight nod, Jack left her alone with the detective.

  “Any news about Shannon?” she asked.

  “No, ma’am. I’d like to ask you a few questions about what happened.”

  “Oh, okay.” She wondered how many police officers she’d have to repeat her story to.

  “Why were you out hiking today?”

  “To clear our minds of stress. Prairie’s Peak is a favorite spot of Shannon’s and she wanted to share her special place with me, you know, to cheer me up.”

  The detective waited for more.

  “I broke up with my boyfriend a few months ago,” she explained.

  He nodded, wrote something down in a small notebook. “Can you describe the assailant?”

  “A large man, over six feet tall, with an angular face and dark eyes. He was in his thirties with a scar above his left eye.”

  “You think you could identify him?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll have you get with a forensic artist. What did the assailant say, exactly? Did he seem to know your friend or call her by name?”

  “No,” Zoe said. “He didn’t say much only...” She reflected back on the moment she decided to catalog every detail about the man. “When he got close, I smelled cigarettes on his breath. I tried to help Shannon and he said, ‘This is not your fight.’”

  “So, he was specifically targeting Shannon.”

  “I don’t know. I guess it seems that way.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “When I wouldn’t let go of Shannon, he said...” the memory resurfaced in a flash “...that I would die with her.” She eyed the detective. “You’ve got to find her.”

  “We’ll do our best. Specialized training is needed to go after a violent criminal in the mountains. We’re putting together a few teams, including police officers, that will be on standby for when the weather breaks. We can’t let search-and-rescue teams of civilians head up there without police officer escort. It’s too dangerous.”

  She didn’t like his answer, but she understood it.

  Zoe spent the next fifteen minutes answering the detective’s questions about Shannon. It was only then, when Zoe didn’t have the details that he seemed to be looking for, that she realized she didn’t know as much about the adult Shannon as she should.

  Why hadn’t Zoe asked questions of her friend? Why hadn’t she found out more about what happened between Shannon and Randy, about her job, her social life? She felt helpless and utterly alone.

  * * *

  An hour later Zoe was officially discharged and for some reason she wished Jack would have returned. How silly.

  “You are a fortunate woman,” the nurse said, then explained how to wrap her bruised ribs and manage the concussion. “Your injuries could’ve been much worse.”

  Zoe didn’t feel fortunate. Her friend was still out there, cold, vulnerable and probably hurt.

  Hopefully still alive.

  God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change... She recited the prayer silently.

  Shannon had been violently kidnapped. Zoe couldn’t change that fact, but she wasn’t powerless. She could pray for her friend’s safety. Zoe didn’t believe Shan had gotten involved with the wrong people; she might find clues at Shannon’s house to assist with the investigation into her kidnapping.

  As she waited outside the hospital for a ride to take her back to Shannon’s modest home, she considered her next move. Yeah, like what move? Hike up a mountain in the dark with a concussion and bruised ribs to find her friend?

  For half a second, she wondered if the concussion was, in fact, affecting her good sense.

  A squad car pulled up and a deputy got out. “Are you Zoe Pratt?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m Deputy Ortman. Sergeant Peterson asked me to give you a ride.”

  Once inside the cruiser, she decided to press Deputy Ortman for news about her friend. “What’s the status of the search?” she asked.

  “Three search teams are ready to deploy once the storm passes.”

  Well, three was better than one. Still...

  “How is Shannon going to survive?” she said softly.

  “If the kidnapper wants something from her or her family, it’s in his best interest to keep her safe.”

  She kept circling back to the same question: Why Shannon? And who was going to get the ransom call? Her parents were stable financially, but not wealthy.

  She wished she had a sounding board, someone to process it all with.

  An image of Jack standing at the foot of her hospital bed flooded her thoughts. The unique man who’d saved her life. She had either been brusque with him, or an emotional tornado. She assumed he’d feel safest keeping his distance.

  But who could blame her for being an emotional basket case in her situation?

  She wondered if Jack was on one of the search teams standing by to look for Shannon.

  They had to find her. Zoe wouldn’t accept the alternative. Few people other than Shannon knew the real Zoe, understood and loved her, faults and all.

  The deput
y turned into Shannon’s snow-dusted driveway leading to the charming, two-bedroom house. The snow hadn’t accumulated nearly as much down here as it had up on the mountain.

  Zoe spotted a lone figure standing on the front porch. From this vantage point, it could almost be... Shannon. Hope flared in Zoe’s chest.

  The deputy parked the cruiser and Zoe thanked him for the ride. As she approached the house, she said, “Shannon?”

  The woman pulled the scarf off her face.

  “Oh, sorry,” Zoe said. “I thought you were Shannon.”

  The visitor extended her hand. “I’m Kelly Washburn, Shannon’s friend. We work together.”

  “Zoe Pratt.”

  “No offense, but I was hoping it was Shannon in the back of the squad car,” Kelly said. “I heard what happened and had to come over. I don’t know why. I had to do something.”

  “I know the feeling.”

  “I even brought sloppy burgers, her favorite, from the resort’s restaurant.”

  “That was thoughtful, thanks.” Someone with a positive attitude. Zoe liked that. She scanned the porch. “I wonder where she keeps the spare key?”

  “It’s probably unlocked,” Kelly said. “People out here rarely lock their doors. If not, she keeps the spare under the mat.”

  Zoe twisted the door handle and it opened. Small towns were so different than urban areas. She would never leave her apartment door unlocked. They entered the modest home and Kelly proceeded to turn on some lamps.

  Shannon had decorated the open floor plan with simple, comfortable furniture, plenty of throw blankets and insulated drapes. Each of the two bedrooms had its own heater and thermostat, as did the main living area, although Shannon said she relied on the fireplace to warm that space.

  Zoe glanced at the fireplace. She and Shannon had stayed up until 1:00 a.m. the first night she’d arrived, reconnecting, talking about their careers, sharing accomplishments and disappointments. They weren’t done. They had so much more to discuss. Would Zoe get the chance?

  She felt Kelly’s hand touch her shoulder. “We need to remain positive.”

  Zoe nodded, grateful for the kind words. Although she was starting to feel the drain of the day’s trauma on her body and mind, she didn’t want to be rude. “So, you and Shannon met at work?” she asked.

  “Yes, we bonded over our love of hiking, volunteer work and snickerdoodles.” Kelly placed the take-out bag on the table.

  Zoe sat at the kitchen table but didn’t reach for the bag right away.

  “Guess this was a bad idea,” Kelly said. “I mean, it’s not like either of us is hungry at a time like this.”

  Zoe thought about the colorful snickerdoodles Shannon had packed for their hike. “I should probably eat something since my last meal was breakfast.”

  “I’ll get us something to drink,” Kelly said.

  “There’s juice and soda in the fridge. I’m good with water.”

  Kelly went to the kitchen and pulled glasses out of the oak cabinet. “How did Shannon seem today?”

  “Pretty good. Happy to be going on a hike. Why?”

  “I don’t know. She’d been distant lately.”

  “She said she was having boyfriend problems,” Zoe offered.

  “Couples always have minor bumps,” Kelly said.

  “Or major ones,” Zoe muttered.

  “Uh-oh. Recent breakup?”

  “Yeah. It’s done. I’ve moved on.”

  Kelly placed a glass of water in front of Zoe and joined her at the table. “If it was meant to be, it will work out, right?”

  “How about you? Do you have a steady boyfriend?”

  “Semi-steady.”

  “I’ve never heard that term before.”

  Kelly opened the bag of food and shrugged. “It’s still too new to define.”

  “Ah.”

  Zoe appreciated the distraction of sitting here chatting about life and guys, almost pretending as if there weren’t some larger crisis taking place outside these four walls.

  Shannon was gone. Kidnapped by a brutal man.

  “What, you don’t like the burgers?” Kelly asked.

  “Sorry, kind of distracted.”

  “Hey, give me your phone and I’ll put my number in the contacts,” Kelly said. “That way you can call me anytime and vice versa.”

  “Good idea.” Zoe handed her the phone. “Tell me more about Shannon’s behavior lately.”

  “She’d been a little withdrawn. I figured that was because of Randy.”

  Zoe nodded.

  Kelly handed Zoe’s phone back. “Call me anytime. I mean it.”

  “Thanks.” She opened the bag and pulled out a burger.

  A tinkling sound chimed from Kelly’s phone. She glanced at it. “The boss.” She stood. “I’m sorry, I have to leave.”

  “No worries. Thanks for coming by and bringing food.” Zoe walked Kelly to the door.

  Kelly hesitated. “Call or text if you hear anything.”

  “Absolutely.”

  Zoe shut the door behind Kelly and sighed. It was nice to have someone to talk to about all this, someone who knew Shannon. It was also good to know that Shannon had friends in town, people who cared about her.

  Zoe put the bag of burgers in the fridge. She decided to lie down, rest her sore body and eat later.

  “Let go and let God,” she whispered. She grabbed her purse off the sofa and opened it. She found the tin of tummy-soothing herbal lozenges and took one, then spotted her canister of pepper spray. If only she’d had it earlier...

  She sighed. It did no good to blame herself for what had happened, even if it felt like it was somehow her fault. She headed toward the guest bedroom, gripping the pepper spray as if she could somehow rewrite history. “If only” is a diversion from grace, a minister had once said. How true.

  Stepping inside the darkened guest room, she reached for the light switch.

  A firm arm wrapped around her neck from behind.

  “Where is she?”

  THREE

  The mission was on indefinite hold. Although three teams were ready to go, the weather had taken a turn for the worse. They wouldn’t be going out tonight to search for Shannon Banks.

  Instead of heading back to his rented hotel room, Jack sat in his SUV eyeing the small house in the distance. When he’d left the hospital earlier, he’d gotten a call from Leslie that she’d found the silver dove necklace belonging to Zoe Pratt. He’d gone to retrieve it in the hopes it might comfort Zoe, yet now he hesitated to knock on the front door of her friend’s house where she was staying. Why?

  The woman’s fragile emotional state made him uncomfortable. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing, didn’t want to upset her again. After all, she was still angry with him for speculating about her friend’s association with questionable persons.

  He eyed the silver dove in his palm. There was no downside in giving her the beloved trinket. Then again, his very presence would remind her that the search had been suspended.

  He was overthinking things. Nothing new.

  A low growl emanated from the back seat. Romeo sensed something outside.

  Jack opened his door. Listened.

  He decided it was an owl discussing evening plans.

  Romeo barked repeatedly. Maybe he needed a bathroom break. Jack let him out of the truck and the dog bolted past him, sniffing the ground intently. It wouldn’t be the worst idea to bring the canine along when Jack encountered Zoe again. Romeo’s presence might take the edge off their human interaction.

  Romeo bolted up the stairs to the front porch.

  Jack started to have second thoughts. What if Zoe thought he was bringing news about her friend? She’d be sorely disappointed and possibly more upset. Yet he wanted to offer her comfort in the form of her necklace. It
also wouldn’t hurt to recalibrate their relationship with a positive interaction. Assuaging things between them could help Jack become more familiar with her missing friend. If Shannon Banks had been able to escape her captor, Jack understanding her thinking process could potentially expedite the rescue.

  He knocked firmly on the front door. Waited. Had Zoe already gone to bed?

  He tried again.

  Romeo’s ears pricked.

  Jack studied him. This made no sense. They weren’t in the field, weren’t tracking scent.

  Romeo bolted around the side of the house. Jack followed and found the dog barking furiously at a side window. Jack peered through a crack in the curtains but couldn’t see much as the room was pitch-black.

  “Come on, before we get arrested for peeping.” Jack commanded his dog to accompany him to the front door.

  He knocked again.

  Romeo anxiously paced back and forth.

  Dogs know things humans don’t. Words spoken by Jack’s mentor and dog trainer, Riley Cooper.

  A crash echoed from inside the house.

  Jack twisted the door handle. Locked.

  He shouldered the door once, twice. Decided not to dislocate his shoulder.

  Another crash and a woman’s scream pierced through the window.

  He scanned the porch for potential spots to hide a key.

  Under a planter. No.

  Behind the rocking chair. No.

  Aunt Margaret hid hers beneath the...

  He flipped over the colorful, braided welcome mat and grabbed the key.

  “Romeo, wait,” he ordered, not wanting the dog to be harmed.

  Jack unlocked and flung open the door. A large man charged Jack, slamming the door shut and pinning Jack against the wall. Romeo barked from the front porch.

  The man slugged Jack in the gut, then spun him around and applied some kind of choke hold. Jack shoved the assailant back against the kitchen counter, hoping the pain of making contact would weaken him. Instead the guy clung tight to Jack’s neck, putting pressure on his windpipe. Swinging Jack to the right, he smashed Jack’s head against the refrigerator.

  Jack was not a rag doll to be tossed around at will. He had the strength necessary to free himself. He was not that weak kid anymore.