Alaskan Christmas Target

by Sharon Dunn

  Natasha sat on the end of the bed and took a deep breath to shake off the tightness in her chest, a physical response to how alone she was. Disconnected from friends and family. No one to go to for help. This sense of isolation had happened once before. After her husband had been shot in the line of duty five years ago she found herself freefalling in shock and grief, forgotten by the world. But then her sister and other police officers had stepped into the gap after Jay’s death. Now she had no one. No one but God.

  If this last year had held a single blessing, it was that she had learned a deeper dependence on God. She closed her eyes and prayed.

  God, I need Your help. Tell me what to do.

  The answer came almost immediately. She needed to assess the reach of a regional news story posted on social media. She ran into the kitchen to get her laptop. Once on Facebook, she typed in the call letters of the news station. The story about Ezra came up first: Hero Waitress Saves Little Boy.

  Her throat constricted as she watched. The reporter stood outside the diner, saying they were waiting for the little boy and the hero waitress. There was footage of her filmed at a distance as she helped Ezra out of the trooper’s car. And then there was the footage of the reporter asking her questions. Her face was clearly visible.

  She had to assume that their search for her was far-reaching and constant.

  Natasha hurried back to the bedroom and threw a few more things into her suitcase. For tonight, she’d get out of Little Bear. She’d be more anonymous in Anchorage. She’d stay at a hotel or an out-of-the-way cabin and pay cash. Setting her coat on the bed, she grabbed the envelope of money she’d saved and stuffed it into the pocket.

  She then went back to the kitchen and rifled through cupboards for food, grabbing protein bars and other items that had a long shelf life. She’d kept plenty on hand. For the last year, her life had been set up for this just-in-case scenario. One where she would be on the run.

  Natasha reached into the depths of a drawer where she kept a sheathed hunting knife. She wished she had a gun. But buying one would have required a background check and registration, or getting it illegally, both of which could have put her back on the radar. She tossed the knife on top of the food she’d gathered into a box.

  Finally, Natasha hurried out to her car and shoved the box of food onto the backseat. Though it had stopped snowing, the winter chill sunk into her skin. She put the knife in the glove box and hurried back to get her coat and her suitcase.

  After putting on an extra layer of clothing and grabbing her down coat, she lifted the suitcase. As she walked through the living room, her gaze rested on the Christmas decorations she’d set up.

  A year ago, she had had only hours to decide if she wanted to be in WITSEC. They’d kept her at a safe house until she could testify at trial and then set her up with a new identity in a different part of the world. She picked up one of the few personal items she’d taken with her: a wooden nativity that fit in the palm of her hand. It was a single piece, not more than five inches in length, depicting Jesus lying in the manger and Mary and Joseph looking down on their newborn child. Her grandfather had carved it. She grabbed it now and put it in her coat pocket.

  Natasha took one more look at the cozy cabin that had been her home for the last year. A flash of movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention. She whirled around to look through the window that faced the backyard, which was forest. Her heart pounded as she stepped closer to the window, studying the trees and the spaces in between. It was possible that a deer or other wildlife had veered close to her house.

  She took in a breath. She shook her head. Was it possible the mafia had sent an assassin that quickly?

  Still, she felt a sense of urgency. She couldn’t stay here any longer. It was too risky. She hurried out the front door, locking it behind her and then placing the keys under the mat where the owner would find them.

  She ran out to the car, yanked open the back door and tossed her suitcase onto the seat. Her attention was suddenly drawn toward the front tire on the driver’s side. It was flat. She knelt to look a little closer. Her hand touched the uneven surface as fear seized her. The tire had been punctured.

  Natasha shook her head. This was not happening. It couldn’t be. How could they get to her so fast? She hurried around to the other side of the car. Both front tires were flat. She needed to get out of here right now. It was at least half a mile to the main road.

  She glanced around as she moved toward the backseat where she’d tossed her suitcase. Whoever had slashed her tires must have parked somewhere down the road and hiked to her house. They were probably hiding in the trees, waiting for the opportune moment to jump her or to shoot her from a distance.

  She flung open the suitcase and dug for one of the burner phones.

  She needed to call someone for help; at least to get a ride to a bus station. She would have to make up some kind of story. Judy and Betsy had been through enough today, but there was no one else.

  She thought of the trooper who had spoken so kindly to her and to Ezra. Would he see through her story? Could she trust him with her secret?

  She’d be less of a target in the cabin, where she could lock the doors and wait for help. After shutting the car door as quietly as possible, she hurried back to the cabin.

  The forest that surrounded her house remained quiet. How strange. This wasn’t the usual mafia MO. Their style was to be quick and efficient. If possible, they would shoot at a distance and leave or come in close to for the kill then disappear without a trace.

  Natasha glanced side to side as she headed for the front door. She bent over to get the key from underneath the welcome mat. She straightened and inserted the key in the keyhole.

  A hand went over her mouth.

  “No one comes between me and my boy.”

  Gary Tharp. Somehow, he must’ve escaped. She elbowed him in the stomach, whirled around and karate chopped the nerve in his neck. The move stunned him. She turned, reaching for the doorknob. If she could get inside and lock the door, she’d have time to call for help.

  He grabbed her from behind, pulling her hair. Natasha pivoted and swung at him but could not make contact before he yanked her forward by the collar. She’d dropped the phone in the snow at the side of the walkway. He pulled her face closer to his. The bloodshot eyes, the wild eyed expression, all of it communicated that he was high on something and bent on violence.

  She punched him in the stomach and slapped him across the face. The move was enough to delay his reaction.

  She headed toward the forest. She had to get away from him. Maybe double back and get to the safety of the house. It was clear his rage and whatever substance he had consumed would drive him to kill her.

  * * *

  Landon hit the turn signal on his truck and headed for the road that led to Natasha’s cabin. Half an hour ago, Gary Tharp had escaped custody on the drive to jail. Trooper Deb Johnson had suffered minor injuries.

  The assumption was that Gary would return for Ezra again. Deputies had been dispatched immediately to Ezra’s house. So far, Gary hadn’t showed up there. Landon was already off duty and on his way to his house when Russ had called him with the news.

  Remembering the threat Gary had made against Natasha, he thought he’d better call her to warn her. He’d gotten her number from Betsy. When she hadn’t answered her phone, he’d decided it would be best to check on her. At the very least, she needed to know Gary was no longer in custody. He also wanted to find out a little more about why she had been so upset about the news crew filming her.

  A short distance from the cabin, he spotted the car Gary was reported to have stolen. He stopped and jumped out of his truck. A quick examination told him Gary wasn’t in the car. He’d parked it off to the side, so it wouldn’t be visible from the cabin. Landon ran back to his own vehicle, pressing on the gas as he closed the door. He
clicked into his seat belt and accelerated. The road was icy. His truck slid but he maintained control. He rounded a curve and caught sight of the cabin with Natasha’s car parked in front.

  He pulled his phone out. “Russ, I’m going to need some backup over at Natasha Hale’s house. The car Gary stole is just down the road.”

  “On it,” Russ said.

  He came to stop by Natasha’s car and kept talking into the phone. “It looks like Natasha’s front tires have been slashed. I’m going to search the house and the area around it... Don’t argue with me. I’m willing to take the risk. We could be out of time by the time another trooper can get here.”

  Procedure was to wait for backup, but Landon had the gut feeling he didn’t have that option. Waiting was not a good idea if he wanted to keep Natasha alive.

  He clicked his phone off and pushed open the truck door, thinking that if he had still been on duty, he would have had a gun with him. He circled her car and peered in a window. He furrowed his brow. A suitcase was flung open on the backseat with two throw-away phones on top of some clothes. He pulled open the door to examine the box beside it, which held winter gear and food.

  He shook his head. None of this made any sense. It looked like Natasha was preparing to leave town, permanently or for a short break, he could only speculate. Two disposable phones was a little weird.

  He turned his attention to the cabin’s front door. The key was in the lock, as if someone, probably Natasha, had gone to open the door and been stopped. He found another disposable phone in the snow beside the walkway. Why would she have three burner phones? He had a feeling Natasha was not who she said she was.

  The footprints around the door were too abundant to tell any kind of a story. When he saw footprints leading around the side of the cabin, he took off running.

  The prints indicated two people running, one chasing the other. It was easy enough to speculate at what had gone down. Feeling a rising sense of urgency, Landon followed the trail to where it led into the trees. Once the canopy of the forest shielded the ground from snow, the footprints disappeared. He turned one way and then the other as his heart pounded in his chest. Though there were no longer any distinct footprints, he could only assume that Natasha had taken the path of least resistance through the open areas in the forest.

  He pulled out his phone and pressed in Russ’s number. “It looks like Gary chased Natasha into the trees behind her cabin.”

  “I’m on my way there now,” Russ told him. “I still got an ETA of about twenty minutes. Deb is out of commission due to the injuries she sustained trying to keep Gary in custody. She is keeping an eye on Ezra at his school.”

  That was the biggest issue with living in sparsely populated parts of the world. The troopers had such large territories to cover and such limited help that when something like this did happen, they were often alone in the fight.

  “This can’t wait.” Landon burst into a sprint. “I’m going to keep looking for them.” He clicked off his phone while he ran, shoving it into his shirt pocket.

  Landon hurried through the trees scanning side to side for any sign that Gary and Natasha might have come this way. When the trees opened up, he found two sets of footprints. One over the top of the other, which meant that Natasha was probably still on the run. Gary hadn’t caught her yet.

  He kept running in the direction the footprints indicated, finding more footprints that looked fresh. The forest opened up to a meadow. The recently fallen snow revealed the path the two people had gone. He caught a flash of color and movement on the other side of the open area. Someone had just disappeared into the trees across the meadow. He was getting closer.

  He prayed he would reach Natasha in time to keep Gary from hurting her. Landon took in a deep breath. His exhale formed a cloud. It was getting colder.

  He jogged across the meadow. The hours he spent at the gym and running the hills meant it would be a long time before he tired. Since Maggie’s death, exercising and working were the only things that had kept him from giving in to despair.

  He entered the trees on the other side of the meadow and stopped to listen. A breeze rustled the branches, but other than that, silence seemed to surround him.

  Then he heard a woman scream.

  FOUR

  Natasha screamed as she tumbled down the steep incline. Not much snow had settled on the windswept mountainside. She banged against rocks and dirt. A moment earlier, Gary had lunged at her. To escape his grasp, she’d stepped back and the ground had given way.

  She came to a stop on a flat spot. Her body felt like it had been beaten with boards. She’d be bruised for certain, but there was no immediate pain to indicate anything was broken. She hadn’t hit her head on the way down. When she looked up, Gary was staring down at her, his features drawn into a sinister grimace.

  Fear encroached on her thoughts. Just what did he have in mind? She’d fallen at least thirty feet. The rest of the way, to where the land flattened out and connected with a river, was steep. Only a climber with gear could hope to make it down such a perilous incline.

  She scanned the rocks above her. She might be able to climb up, but Gary would be waiting there.

  Gary’s head disappeared from view.

  He wouldn’t have just left. She was in a very vulnerable place. He had something in mind. The ledge she’d landed on was only a little over a foot wide.

  Gary peered over the edge of the incline. He grinned. He was holding a large rock. He let go of it. The rock hurtled toward her. She moved to the side as it crashed on the ledge and then rolled along the remainder of the steep incline.

  A moment later, another rock was coming at her. She jerked to get out of the way, slipping off the ledge and rolling. She reached out, finding a protruding rock. She held on and looked up.

  Gary had another rock raised above his head. She braced. He was probably aiming for her hands so the pain of impact would make her let go and fall to her death.

  She closed her eyes and breathed a wordless prayer, then glanced back up.

  Gary looked to the side, suddenly dropped his rock and took off running.

  What in the world?

  A moment later, Trooper Landon Defries’s head appeared.

  She’d never been so happy in her life.

  “Can you hang on? It’s too steep for me to get down to you. Search and rescue will be able to get you out with the chopper.”

  Her hands were tiring from holding on. Already her grip was loosening. “I can’t hang on much longer.”

  Landon glanced in the direction Gary must have run then turned his attention back to her.

  “Off to your right and up about a foot. There’s a rock that is sticking out. Do you see it?”

  She craned her neck. “Yes, I see it.”

  “That is a more secure place to wait. Do you think you can get up there?”

  Her arms were weakening from the strain of holding on. “I’ll try.”

  Again, he looked over his shoulder. He must be weighing his options. As a lawman, he was probably concerned about capturing Gary. He knelt and leaned over the incline. “I’ll stay with you until help can come. I need to phone search and rescue.” Landon had made a hard choice between chasing down Gary and making sure she was safe.

  “Okay.” She wasn’t sure if she could reach the more secure position on the mountain.

  He must have picked up on the fear in her voice.

  He bent his neck as he stared down at her. “About three feet to the right below you, it looks like there is a foothold.”

  When she looked down, all she saw was the rocky shore that surrounded the river. Nausea overtook her.

  “Natasha, I need you to focus.”

  “I know.” She was weak from her flight from Gary. Her hands strained as she clung to the rock.

  Landon stood. “Give me a second.” He
disappeared.

  She could hear the rush of the river beneath her. She prayed she would be able to hang on.

  Landon reappeared holding a tree branch. “I won’t be able to get all the way down to you, but I’m going to help pull you up to that ledge.” He moved a few feet down the mountainside, seeking a secure place to stand. He slipped. Rocks rolled past her, tumbling and crashing into each other.

  Her heart skipped a beat. “Careful.” Her voice sounded faint and faraway. Both of them didn’t need to fall to their death today.

  Landon edged a few feet down and then extended the tree branch in her direction. “You’re going to have to grab hold. Let go of the rock one hand at a time.”

  An exercise in trust. Something she had very little of after all that had happened. She looked up at Landon, who locked her in his gaze and nodded. He shook the tree branch.

  “Once you have the branch. You should be able to gain a foothold beneath you. I see an outcropping below you that looks pretty solid.”

  She nodded, but inside her stomach was doing a gymnastics routine. She reached a hand out for the branch, grabbing hold while her legs flailed. Her feet found the outcropping. She let go of the rock with her other hand and gripped the branch. She took in a sharp, quick breath.

  “I got you,” he said.

  Now she could see the clear path to the ledge Landon had pointed out. “I think I can make it.” It was maybe five feet of climbing, some of it sideways.

  She let go of the branch and reached up, her arm stretched as far as it could, muscles straining. She lifted one foot and felt around until her boot touched solid ground.

  Landon held on to the branch and remained on his ledge. “I got to call this in to get help.”