by Hope White
He fought self-recrimination that he’d failed, that his niece would be lost forever.
Cop mode. That’s how he had described his demeanor to Carly back at the river, and that had to be his mind-set right now. He needed to emotionally detach in order to find them.
As he headed toward the lobby, he scanned the parking lot and noticed the squad car. He heard a man moaning and searched the surrounding woods, where he found a deputy on the ground, clutching his head.
Whit kneeled beside him. “Take it easy. What happened?”
“She left the room and went to the lobby with the kid. I got out to see what she was doing and was hit from behind.”
“Help is on the way.” Whit stood.
“Where are you going?” the deputy said.
Whit put up his hand to silence the deputy from suggesting Whit stay out of it. Whit was injured, but he was also a skilled detective and knew that when someone went missing, every minute was critical.
His niece. Missing. And it was his fault.
He approached the entrance to the lobby and pulled his arm out of the sling. If he encountered the assailant, he didn’t want to seem at a disadvantage.
The main doors automatically opened. There was no one at the front desk, no one in the lobby area. Whit checked behind the counter and found a twentysomething clerk with a name badge that said Kyle unconscious on the floor. Whit felt for a pulse. Strong and steady. From the look of the goose egg on his head, the young man would have a killer headache when he regained consciousness.
“Kyle, can you hear me?” Whit said.
He didn’t answer.
Suddenly a guy popped up from beneath a table in the lobby. Whit aimed his firearm. “Hands!”
“Don’t shoot, don’t shoot,” the guy said, squinting.
“Did you make the 9-1-1 call?”
“Yes, sir.”
Whit lowered his gun and flashed his badge. “Tell me what happened.”
“A big guy came in demanding someone’s room number and threatened to shoot the clerk.”
“Where’s the guy now?”
“He left.”
“Was he alone?”
“I think so,” the man said.
“Did you see a woman and a baby?”
“They came in first. Went to the snack shop.” He pointed.
“Did the assailant go after them?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Did you see him leave with the woman and child?” Whit pressed.
“The guy left out the front. I didn’t see the woman leave.”
Whit knew Carly was smart and extremely protective of Mia. She had fled shooters at the house, and climbed down a ravine to get to Mia. If Carly sensed trouble, she would have taken off in the opposite direction.
He popped his head into the snack area as he passed, then continued toward the opposite end of the lodge. Pounding echoed in the distance.
Carly wouldn’t relinquish the child without a fight. Was that what the banging was about? Was someone trying to beat their way into a room where Carly had taken refuge?
He turned a corner, saw the housekeeping cart in the hall and figured that Carly was hiding in one of the rooms. He knocked on a door.
No answer.
He tried another door.
It opened, and he jerked sideways as someone swung an ironing board at his head. The attacker awkwardly stumbled forward.
Carly. She spun around to take another swing.
Whit put up his hands. “Carly, it’s me.”
Her cheeks were flushed; her colorful eyes flared wildly. A baby’s cries reminded him why Carly had gotten herself worked up into this violent state.
“The sliding door,” she blurted out. “He’s there.”
Whit motioned her into the room. “He can’t get in, and even if he does, I’m here. I’ll protect you.”
He hoped he could make good on that promise.
Once inside the room, he introduced himself to the housekeeper, Deanne, who handed Mia back to Carly. Whit called Harper and gave him an update, including their room number.
As he started toward the sliding door to investigate, Carly gripped his arm. “Please don’t.”
The genuine concern in her voice made him pause.
“Without you, Mia has no one,” she said.
Right, it was Mia she was asking for, not herself.
“Be an uncle today, not a cop, okay?” she said.
The banging on the slider continued. Carly bit her lower lip. Whit placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. Truth was, he didn’t want to get into a shootout in such close proximity to these women and his niece. He motioned them toward the bathroom.
“Come on, Deanne! Open the door!” a muffled voice called through the glass.
Whit eyed the housekeeper. “Were you expecting someone?”
She shook her head that she wasn’t.
“Dee, please open the door. I have a surprise for you,” a muffled, male voice pleaded.
“Actually, it kinda sounds like my boyfriend,” Deanne said.
“Stay back,” Whit ordered the women and went to the door. He peered through a crack in the curtain and spotted a twentysomething male with messy black hair and round, wire-rimmed glasses.
“Looks like Harry Potter, with black hair?” Whit said.
Deanne chuckled. “Yeah, that’s him.”
Whit opened the door.
“Who are you?” the kid said in an accusatory tone.
“Detective Whittaker. Get inside.” Whit scanned the property, not seeing any signs of danger.
“Mark, what are you doing here?” Deanne said.
“I wanted to surprise you with these.” He pulled a small bouquet of flowers from behind his back. He glanced from Whit to Carly, back to Deanne. “What’s going on?”
Deanne gave her boyfriend a hug. “I’m so glad to see you.”
Mark looked at Whit for an explanation.
“There’s a gunman on the premises,” Whit said. “Police are en route.”
“Whoa,” Mark said.
“How did you know where Deanne was?” Whit asked.
“We were texting, and I waited until she was cleaning her favorite room to give her flowers. It’s...it’s our six-month anniversary.”
Deanne broke the hug and leaned back. “You are so sweet.”
Whit noticed Carly look away, as if she was embarrassed to be eavesdropping on this intimate moment.
“We’ll stay put until we’re notified it’s safe,” Whit said to the couple as they gazed lovingly into each other’s eyes.
He motioned for Carly to join him in the kitchenette.
“Why did you leave our room?” Whit asked.
“Mia was having a food meltdown and you weren’t back, so I went in search of snacks.”
He eyed his niece, who wore a ring of cookie crumbs around her mouth. “Sorry I took so long to get back.” He brushed a crumb off Mia’s cheek. “At first when I entered the room I thought...”
“That I’d left with your niece,” she said.
“At first, yes.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. I overheard you and Detective Harper talking about keeping me close, so he could figure out who I was working with,” she said in a clipped tone.
“Carly, you and I haven’t known each other that long,” he tried to explain.
“You obviously see how much I love this child.”
“Yes.” He sighed. Of that he was sure. “My goal is to protect you and Mia. I also think you may know more about my brother and sister-in-law’s disappearance than you think.”
“I’ve told you the truth about what happened,” she countered.
“I’m not disputing that. Since you lived with them, a random memory might come to yo
u that can help us piece together this case. Therefore, keeping you close both helps me care for Mia and could potentially help with the investigation into her parents’ disappearance.”
“Of course,” she said, her voice flat.
He didn’t want her to think this was all business, that he didn’t have a heart. Then again, letting his emotions seep into his thought process could put them in danger.
“When I saw the trashed bedroom I thought you and Mia had been kidnapped.”
“Yeah...that could have happened,” Carly said. “I guess it’s a good thing she was hungry, or we would have been sitting ducks in that room.”
“Tell me what happened.”
Whit listened to Carly explain how she’d gone in search of food and overheard someone demanding to know Whit’s room number. He appreciated her ability to multitask, keeping the child content by swaying back and forth, while simultaneously offering a piece of banana and telling her story. As she described details of the threat, he puzzled over the assailant’s knowing his whereabouts. The only people privy to his, Carly and Mia’s location were lodge staff and the sheriff’s office.
He didn’t want to go there, didn’t want to consider there was a shady cop in the mix, but at this point it was one potential explanation. If nothing else, the perps could be listening to the radio frequency and figured out where Whit was staying.
He wouldn’t take chances with his niece’s life, so they’d pack up and move to a secure, secret location and disable location services on their phones. Detective Harper would have to agree that Whit’s primary goal had to be protecting his niece and the nanny.
* * *
Muffled voices drifted to them from the other side of the door, awakening Harry from a fitful sleep. Someone entered the room. Harry kept his eyes closed. They weren’t wearing blindfolds and Harry feared if he got a look at the kidnappers, his and Susan’s lives were over.
Footsteps clicked against the vinyl flooring. “You may open your eyes.”
“I’d rather not,” Harry said.
“I’m wearing a mask.”
Harry slowly looked up. A man wearing a clown mask stood over him, and another man in a similar mask stood guard at the door.
“Tell me about Brody Whittaker,” the man said, obvious frustration in his voice.
Harry’s big brother had come to the rescue. For the first time in his life, Harry was pleased about Whit’s hero status.
“He’s my half brother,” Harry said.
“And?”
“He’s a war hero and police detective.”
“Is he married? Children?”
“No.”
“Girlfriend?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know? He’s your brother.”
“We’re not close.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Rather than risk their hurting Susan to get answers, Harry decided to deflect with a semitruth, and in turn create sympathy with his captor.
“He abandoned me when I was a kid,” Harry said.
“Well, he must care about you if he’s protecting his niece with such vigor.”
“He only cares about himself, and maintaining his hero status.”
“So you dislike your brother?”
“Yes.”
“We have that in common.” The man paused. “After I retrieve the child, I will kill your brother for you. You’re welcome.”
Harry sucked in a quick breath. No, that’s not what he—
The door slammed shut behind his kidnappers. Harry leaned back against the wall.
“We’re going to die, aren’t we?” Susan whispered.
“No, sweetheart. Whit will save us.”
“Not if he’s dead.”
* * *
As they drove to their next location, Carly kept Mia occupied in the back seat until she’d fallen asleep. Carly was relieved that Detective Harper agreed to let them leave Miner to find safety in another town miles away. Whit had convinced the detective that the fewer people who knew about their location the better.
They were headed for Cold Creek Springs, a small tourist town tucked into the Rocky Mountains, the perfect spot to disappear, she thought. After everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours, nothing would surprise her, not even a reappearance of today’s gunman.
Which reminded her of the first gunman who’d come after her.
“Did they question the man you knocked out?” she asked.
“He got a lawyer.”
“Was the clerk able to give a description of the man demanding your room number?”
“He did, and they put a BOLO out on him.”
“And what about—”
“Hey, who’s the detective here?”
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay, just teasing.”
A few minutes later, they pulled into the parking lot of a small inn. “This place is far enough off the radar that we should be safe. I reserved a suite under a false name as an added precaution. We are Mr. and Mrs. Flannigan.”
“Oh, okay.” However, it wasn’t okay. Pretending to be someone else made her uneasy. It reminded her too much of her parents.
“We have two adjoining rooms, one with a crib,” Whit said as if he sensed her trepidation. “Tomorrow we can go into town and pick up a few things. I assume you’ll need clothes.”
“And more supplies for Mia.”
“How much does she eat?” he said, in a lighthearted tone.
“Plenty. Did you get any cold medicine?”
“Was I supposed to?”
“I thought I put it on the list.”
“Maybe they have a twenty-four-hour pharmacy in town.”
He parked the SUV in the back behind the inn. As he glanced over his shoulder, he winced slightly.
“Did you pick up pain medicine at the store for yourself?” she said.
“I’m fine.”
“Uh-huh, well, I’m a nursing student, so I can tell you’re not fine.”
“I’ve got some pain reliever in my glove box. You ready to check in, Mrs. Flannigan?”
“Sure.”
She must have said it with an edge to her voice because he asked, “The thought of being married is that offensive, huh? Or is it being married to me that offends you?”
“I don’t like pretending to be someone I’m not.”
“Understandable. In this case it adds another level of protection. The perp at the hotel knew my last name so we’ve got to be extra careful.” He exited the car and opened the back door.
Carly unbuckled Mia from her seat and got out, holding Mia against her shoulder.
Whit guided Carly up the stairs to the inn. She didn’t miss the way he scanned the area, the parking lot and then the porch, nor could she ignore the slight touch of his hand against her back. It was almost as if he was positioning himself as a human shield against danger.
He tapped on the windowpane of the front door.
“You can’t just walk in?” she asked.
“Not after 7:00 p.m.”
As they waited for the owner to answer, Carly wondered how long she’d be embroiled in this mess and be forced to stay hidden.
“Maybe they’ll have some snacks or something,” he said, studying her.
He probably thought she was hungry, and in truth, she should be, but with everything that had happened today, she didn’t have much of an appetite.
The front door opened and a couple in their late fifties greeted them.
“You must be Mrs. and Mrs. Flannigan,” the man said.
Whit shook his hand and turned to Carly. “And this is—”
“Anna.” Carly offered her middle name, trying to stick as close to the truth as possible. The name rolled easily off her tongue.
Maybe too easily.
“I’m Kurt and this is my wife, Trish,” the innkeeper introduced.
“Please, come inside,” Trish said with a warm smile.
She was petite, like Carly, and had gray highlights in her brown hair.
“What a sweet little girl,” Trish said, nodding at Mia.
“She is sweet, and very tired,” Carly said.
“We’ve set you up in the second-floor Evergreen suite,” Kurt said. “Honey, why don’t you show Anna upstairs and Mr. Flannigan and I will get their luggage.”
When Whit didn’t move right away, Carly nodded and said, “I’ll see you upstairs.”
Whit and Kurt went back outside, and Trish motioned Carly to the stairs.
“How old is she?” Trish asked.
“Seven months.”
“The crib is all set up. We keep it around for when my grown children and the grandkids come to visit.”
They reached the second floor and turned left. As they wandered down the hall, Carly noticed various photographs on the walls.
“The wall of fame,” Trish said. “It started with our kids and grandkids, and then we added guests to the collection. They get a kick out of it when they come back to stay with us. They feel like they’re a part of the family.”
Carly hesitated in front of a photograph of a young couple and four children.
“My son, Dave, and his wife with their kids. They live in Wallace, Idaho, and come to visit every summer.”
Even though the youngest boy made a goofy face for the camera, the family seemed so...happy. Carly looked away, wondering if God would grace her with the blessing of a happy family.
They passed by a room with a wooden Do Not Disturb plaque hanging from a piece of twine on the doorknob.
Carly was reminded they were not alone.
“Is the inn full tonight?” she asked.
“No. We have four rooms plus the suite, and only one room and your suite are occupied. The way your suite is set up, you’re in a corner hallway so it’s very private.” They stepped into a small alcove and Carly saw two doors with a sign, Evergreen Suite.
“How long have you owned the inn?” Carly asked.
“It’ll be three years next month. It’s a lot of work, but I enjoy it, and we love the mountains.”