Blue Chow Christmas

by Rachelle Ayala

  “Darn it,” she screamed. “Grady, you bum. At least clean up after yourself.”

  She marched to the bedroom where her brother was most likely taking a nap. He was the only loner of the family, having left civilization behind to live in the woods and smoke jump forest fires. But when he visited her, he needed to at least clean up after himself.

  The bedroom was empty, and all her clothes were rumpled on the bed, as if someone had thrown them around. The closet door was wide open, and her luggage had spilled out.

  Cold chills gripped Cait and she slumped to the ground, huddling with Sierra. Someone had been here, and it wasn’t Grady. He would never go through her things. No matter how much of a grouch he was, he was still a gentleman.

  “It’s probably okay. It’s just someone caught in the snowstorm. Someone who was hungry. It’s how country folks are. They’re hospitable, right?”

  Sierra barked in a not-so-friendly way.

  “I better let Melia back in before she freezes.” Having two dogs around was better than none, although they were therapy dogs meant for comfort, not guard dogs.

  Cait stumbled to the front door and found Melia cowering on the porch. The strange car was still there, and no one seemed to be around. Maybe the stranded motorist went off for help after filling his belly.

  She grabbed Melia by the collar and dragged her, brushing snow into the cabin. “I checked the entire house. No one’s inside but us. Sorry you got spooked by the intruder.”

  The puppy squealed and implored her with her big black eyes, but she was forced into the cabin and Cait shut the door tightly, bolting it.

  “There, now I just have to get a warm fire going.” Cait picked up a log from the woodpile in front of the fireplace.

  “Woo, woo, woo.” Sierra let out a loud roaring bark and charged at a masked man. He swung a bat and knocked her down, sending her squeaking with pain into the corner.

  Whoever it was, it wasn’t Grady.

  Cait screamed and threw the log at the intruder. He ducked and ran back into the kitchen, while Cait went to check on Sierra.

  She tried to rouse the dog, but Sierra only wagged the tip of her tail and laid her head down. Cait had to get herself and the dog out of here before the man came back to finish them off.

  Shuffling noises came from inside the kitchen, and there was nothing Cait could do but grab her coat, pull on her gloves, and open the front door. She and Melia would have to get help.

  Melia took off like a black streak across the snow, and Cait chased her before going back to the driveway. There was no way she could keep up with the dog. Her ribs and chest still ached from the accident, and she wasn’t in the best physical shape.

  Maybe the burglar left his keys in the car. She went around the car, brushing off snow.

  The doors were locked.

  Cait huffed out her frustration, put her arms around her waist and trudged down the driveway. She wasn’t sure which direction held the closest neighbors, but she had to find help. Being on a private lot full of trees meant the cabin was hidden from the road, which meant the neighbors were also hidden just as privately.

  With the snow so deep, she’d have to chance finding snowshoes in the woodshed, or she wouldn’t get far.

  Hopefully, the intruder was satisfied having the warm cabin to himself, but she had to get help for Sierra before she died.

  Her breath frosting in the cold air, Cait whirled around at the crunching steps behind her. The intruder threw a hood over her head and pushed her to the ground. Her neck and ribs exploded with fresh pain, and her screams were muffled in the snowbank.

  He tied up her wrists and ankles, then opened the car door and shoved her inside. Cait struggled and gasped, but she couldn’t loosen the ties.

  Moments later, another body was thrown on top of her.

  Ouch, that really hurt.

  “Who are you? What do you want?” Cait asked, but no one answered her.

  The engine cranked and came to life, and the car bumped its way down the gravel-covered driveway.

  “If it’s money you want, I can get it for you. If you want to stay at the cabin, just let me go. I won’t say anything.”

  “Shut up,” a man’s voice shouted. “I ain’t staying at a shithole cabin when I have a royal palace. You keep quiet, and I’ll take good care of you.”

  Cait nudged the body next to her, getting no response. Whoever was bundled up with her in the backseat was out cold. She quieted her mind, trying to hear over the thudding of her heart, but the only sound was the lone car traversing the snow-packed mountain roads.

  At least he wasn’t going fast.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “Have they found Glen yet?” Brian asked Sheriff Todd Colson who unlocked the holding cell to release him after the bail hearing.

  “Not yet,” Colson said. “He was last spotted in Sacramento at a pawn shop. The owner said he bought lockpicks and a GPS navigator watch.”

  “That means he’s close by. Do they know who the watch is registered to?”

  “Nope, unfortunately not.”

  Brian shuffled nervously from the cell block and blew into his hands. “Hopefully, Glen found a place to hole up in before the storm hit.”

  “Do you have any idea where he could have gone?” Todd asked, narrowing his eyes.

  “His parents have a house up here. I told you all that already.” Brian nodded at Becca, his lawyer.

  “Right, except we called the caretaker, and he said no one’s been over there. He’ll keep an eye out for the kid,” Todd said.

  “He might have wanted to visit the crash site.” Brian’s shoulders slumped, recalling the gloomy day when he went to the site where Alana had died. “I hope he’s okay.”

  “We do too, but don’t worry.” Becca patted his forearm. “Any kid who can get himself from Texas to Sacramento without getting caught is capable enough to find a hiding place to ride out the storm. He has lockpicking tools, so I’m sure he found shelter.”

  “Right, now I need to get back to Cait. She’s probably worried sick.”

  “We’ll give you a ride up there, won’t we?” Becca prodded her brother.

  “As long as the roads are passable.” Todd rubbed the back of his neck. “We have patrols up there to keep people off the areas that are closed.”

  “Do we have time to get flowers?” Brian followed Todd to the processing area where he collected his wallet and keys. “Cait’s been through a lot already, and I need to show her she’s loved.”

  “Everything’s closing up, but we can swing by Vivi’s. She runs the general store,” Todd said.

  “Vivi’s another one of our siblings,” Becca said, clueing him in. “We Colsons kind of run this town. It isn’t called Colson’s Corner for nothing. Ha, ha.”

  “Is Joe of the diner one of your brothers, too?”

  “Actually, another sister,” Todd said. “She hates being named Josephine, so we just call her Joey. The ‘Y’ dropped off the sign long ago, so now it’s Joe’s Diner. Didn’t you wonder about the blank space?”

  “Didn’t think about it,” Brian said. “I really appreciate all you’re doing for me. Can you get enough evidence to drop the charges?”

  “I’m trying,” Becca said. “But Todd here has to stick to the law. He’s kind of a stick in the mud, if you know what I mean.”

  “Hey, Thornton can cause big problems, like shut off our water or zone us into oblivion,” Todd grumbled. “We have to take his charges seriously. And someone did cut the brake lines to your Outback.”

  “Then they might still be out there,” Brian mused. “I hope they were after me, and not Cait. I feel so bad she was hurt because of me.”

  “We’ve put word out to see if anyone saw anything suspicious—other than the black SUV,” Todd said, holding a door for Bec.

  She was dressed in a smart black suit, with her hair tied back in a tight bun. Brian would have been lost without her, and he really appreciated that Cait had made frie
nds with Linx. The Colson family was as close-knit as the Hart family, and somehow, being surrounded by all the different members felt safe and familiar.

  “Be glad for the black SUV,” Bec said. “It let me raise enough doubt about who tampered with the brake lines. As for the online messages, your account was logged in from two different locations at the same time. You logged in that morning from the hospital, but at the same time, someone near Sacramento logged in. That casts enough reasonable doubt to get you out on bail.”

  “Sacramento? Wasn’t that where Glen was? Do you think he hacked my account?” Brian had been noticing suspicious items disappearing from his virtual knapsack and coin account.

  “It could be that, or something more serious. PinkPriestess says she’s been chatting with ‘you,’ but when we crosschecked the time, you were clearly at the cabin and out of reach of the internet. She did, however, finger you in real life from the flower purchase,” Becca explained.

  “You sure you want to keep buying flowers and leaving a trail of evidence?” Todd chuckled, unlocking the door of his squad car.

  “If it’s evidence that I love Cait, then I’ll be happy to leave a trail of petals from my heart to her door,” Brian crowed, wondering where that random thought had come from.

  “Ah, that’s so cheesy it’s sweet,” Becca said. “Let me text this to Linx. She’ll get a laugh.”

  “A real riot,” Todd said. “Linx is always collecting ‘love is’ quotes.”

  “I can see it now,” Becca added. “Love is a trail of petals from my heart to her door.”

  “Better than love is never saying you’re sorry, or always leaving the toilet seat down.” Todd started up the cruiser. “One bouquet of flowers coming right up. Would you like to stop at Joe’s, or let’s say Joey’s to restore her former glory, and pick up some hot cinnamon rolls?”

  “Love is a cinnamon roll around her heart,” Brian said, now that he was on a roll—pun not intended, unless he was being literal, which he usually was, but seemed to have found a way not to be.

  “Better than one around her waist.” Becca guffawed. “You ought to write all of this down. Linx would love it.”

  “I’m trying to find the meaning of love anyway,” Brian said. “I’ll jot down whatever I come up with.”

  Suddenly, his heart felt lighter and he could feel a smile burning through his face. “Does Vivi have wine and chocolates at her store?”

  “She has everything,” Todd said. “She’s the general store.”

  “Then let’s add candy canes and cider to the list,” Brian said. “Love is hooking her with candy canes and mulling her wine with spices.”

  “That one’s the best. I love it,” Becca said as she texted.

  Chapter Thirty

  The car bumped along, slipping and sliding, sending Cait and the other body jostling back and forth. After some time, the other person woke up and started squealing.

  “Who are you?” Cait whispered. “Where’s he taking us?”

  Squeal, squeal, squeal. The high-pitched voice sounded like either a young boy or a girl having a panic attack.

  “It’s okay. It’ll all be okay,” Cait said, not feeling the least bit okay. She rolled her body close to the flailing one. “Can you at least get this hood off of me?”

  “It’s not a hood, it’s a pillowcase,” the kid said.

  “Okay, then get the pillowcase off me.”

  “You two shut up back there,” the man yelled.

  “You’re going to be in a lot of trouble, Mister.” Cait gritted her teeth, putting on a brave act. “My husband’s a firefighter and he’s sure to come looking for me.”

  “Oh yeah? Your husband tried to kill you.”

  “How do you know?” Cait felt a squirm of fear dig into her gut.

  “Everyone in town knows he cut your brake lines. I’m here to save you.” The man laughed nastily. “He’s a real piece of work. I’m surprised you stayed married to him all these years.”

  How did this guy know how long Brian was married to her? Word sure got around in a small town, which meant the criminal was someone local. She’d remember this detail in case she got away, and it would help authorities narrow down the suspect.

  “Let us go.” Cait banged her head against the back of the seat. “If you were really saving us, you’d drive us to the police station.”

  “Not in this weather, I wouldn’t,” the man said. “I have a better place for you.”

  The car made a sharp turn, throwing Cait and the kid against the door. The kid squealed in pain and Cait gritted her teeth, not wanting to give the kidnapper the satisfaction that he’d hurt her.

  The car descended a steep slope and skidded to a stop, wedging Cait between the front seats. The man opened the door, hitting Cait with a blast of frigid air, and shouted, “We’re here. Get out and no funny business.”

  Without the use of her hands, Cait was unable to extricate herself, not that she was going to make it easy for the kidnapper. She laid still, taking inventory of her aches and pains. The neck she had strained earlier was stiff and sore, and her ribs throbbed from being thrown around without seatbelts.

  The kid squealed, “I want my dogs. Where are my dogs?”

  “Hopefully dead.” The man grabbed Cait by the armpits and dragged her up a slippery drive and parked her on a bench. She still had the pillowcase over her face and her wrists and ankles were bound together, so she couldn’t make a run for it.

  “I want my dogs,” the kid whined, stomping his feet.

  Poor kid didn’t know Sierra was hurt and Melia had run out into the cold. Cait breathed a prayer that someone would come to the cabin and find Sierra. Hopefully, Melia was lurking around and would return once she saw that the dog-hating crook was gone.

  “Shut up and pick the locks,” the horrid man growled.

  “My dad has a security guard. There’s an alarm.”

  Why was the kid arguing instead of making a run for it?

  Cait heard the click of the safety of a pistol being released. Okay, now she got the picture.

  “Disarm it, kid,” the man growled.

  “But, Wonderman, I thought you were nice,” the kid complained. “You said I can get my dogs.”

  “Glen, listen to me.” Cait’s voice croaked from her tight throat. “This man isn’t my husband. He’s an imposter.”

  “You shut up.” The man cuffed Cait’s head. “Brian Wonder’s going to pay for what he did to me. Hurry up with the locks. It’s freezing out here.”

  “Run for it,” Cait shouted. “He’s not Brian Wonder. He just admitted it.”

  The man hit her again, then poked the gun in her bruised ribs, making her wince. “Open up, kid, or this nice lady is dead.”

  “She was nice to my dogs,” the kid said, sniveling.

  “Who cares? She’s still going to die if you don’t do exactly what I say.”

  Cait shivered, her heart pounding through her chest. Who knew who this crazy guy was? If his main target was Glen, the senator’s son, then her life wasn’t worth anything other than keeping the kid in line. Her parents didn’t have millions to pay ransom, and no one other than Brian and her family would even miss her.

  What had she accomplished during her short, pathetic life? No career, no business, no awards and accolades. Jenna was a famous fashion designer, Melisa a popular teacher, Connor was the youngest fire chief in the city, and Grady had some of the most severe wildfires under his belt.

  She squeezed her eyes shut to keep the tears from oozing out. Good thing she was still wearing the pillowcase. The man’s slobbery breaths, the clinking of the lockpicks, and the pounding of her pulse mixed together into a macabre symphony. Was this how she would spend the last moments of her life?

  The gun was still firmly pressed against her side. All it would take would be a single shot to her heart, and she would be dead. Good thing she’d told Brian she loved him. If only he would believe her.

  Several long and excruciating moment
s later, Cait heard the locks click and the beeping of the security system being disarmed. She was lifted over a threshold and pushed against a wall.

  “Ah, this is the life,” the man said, flicking on the lights.

  Now that there was light, Cait could partially see through the pillowcase. They were inside of a large lodge paneled with wood, probably Glen’s father’s vacation home. Hopefully, the security guard would be by soon.

  The man shut the door and dragged her to a sofa.

  “What do you want with us?” Cait asked. “It’s not like you’re going to get away with this. I’m sure they have video monitoring. All rich people do.”

  “You know what I hate about you? Your smart mouth,” the man grumbled. “Now, kid, disable the video monitoring.”

  “I can’t do that without a computer,” the boy answered.

  “I’m sure I can call the alarm company and get that taken care of. What’s the password?”

  “Not saying.”

  “The password.” The man stomped his foot, no doubt waving the gun around.

  “You know, you’re putting on quite a show for the security monitors,” Cait chirped. “Any more drama, and we’ll be nominated for the Academy Awards.”

  The man came close, and Cait turned her face from the stench of his breath. “You’re not funny.”

  At that moment, the telephone rang.

  “Let’s see you sing and dance to that,” Cait said, preparing herself for a slap. “I doubt you have big enough balls for the Golden Globes.”

  Ignoring her, the idiot answered the phone.

  “Help, help,” Cait called while Glen shrieked. “We’re being kidnapped.”

  “Yeah, everything’s okay here. We’re having a little get together. Drama club. By the way, can you turn off video monitoring? Some of the senator’s guests require privacy.” He hung up. “They didn’t even ask for the password. Ha, ha.”

  “That’s because the password is ‘drama club,’” Glen grumbled.

  “I know. Your mother’s favorite activity.” The man laughed. “I was testing you, kid. Good job with the lockpicking. That’s my boy. You’re good with taking orders.”