Dangerous Christmas Memories

by Sarah Hamaker

  Luc didn’t like this plan at all. He still didn’t believe that Culvert was behind the attacks, and it made him uneasy to have Priscilla out of his sight. “Why are you splitting us up?”

  “It’s safer for Priscilla. Laura will dress like Priscilla. If Culvert’s watching us, he won’t know which vehicle to follow.” Mac held out a John Deere baseball cap to Priscilla. “Put this on.”

  Luc had no choice but to comply, but he didn’t have to like it. Priscilla tucked her hair up under the cap, and Laura did the same. With identical flannel shirts and jeans, the two women could pass for twins at a distance.

  “Everyone ready?” Mac opened the door, conferred briefly with the agents on perimeter duty, then took Priscilla’s arm. “Let’s move!”

  Luc tried to keep Priscilla in his sight, but quickly lost track of her as Myers took Laura’s arm and motioned for Luc to follow close behind. In the parking lot, the three groups headed to identical black SUVs. Luc climbed into the back with Laura, while Myers got into the driver’s seat. The other groups also loaded into the SUVs without incident.

  Laura’s cell phone buzzed, and she hit Accept on speakerphone. “Ready to roll.”

  “Good,” Mac said. “Everyone’s in place. Stay safe.”

  “Will do.” Laura tapped Myers on the shoulder. “Let’s go.”

  Luc tried to tamp down his unease but couldn’t. Something wasn’t right. He turned to say so to Laura when a trio of pickup trucks with snowplows attached to their grilles roared into the parking lot. Then the trucks split off, each one accelerating toward an SUV.

  “What are those trucks doing?” Laura asked as Myers put the vehicle in gear.

  “Oh, no!” Luc couldn’t believe what was happening. “They’re going to ram us!”

  NINETEEN

  Priscilla fastened her seat belt. Beside her, Mac conferred via cell phone with Myers and Jarvis, who were driving the other SUVs. She didn’t like being separated from Luc, although why that would bother her, she didn’t have time to contemplate.

  Mac disconnected the call. “Let’s go.”

  Aldrich started the engine. He began to pull away as three mud-covered pickup trucks with snowplows attached to the fronts barreled into the parking lot. “What are they doing?”

  Priscilla twisted to see each truck aim for a different SUV. She screamed as one truck slammed into the back of their SUV, pushing it sideways. Aldrich struggled to keep control of the vehicle as the truck continued to push against their bumper, forcing the SUV away from the other two.

  Beside her, Mac hit a button on his phone, putting the phone on speaker. “Laura, what’s happening?”

  Whoomph.

  “He’s running into us!” Laura barely got the words out before she screamed. Seconds later, an awful crunching sound echoed over the phone.

  “Laura? Is everything okay?”

  Silence on Laura’s end. Their SUV shook as the truck accelerated with more force, throwing Priscilla against her seat belt.

  “He just...pushed...our vehicle...into the dumpster.” Laura’s voice hitched, and then the call dropped.

  “The plow’s stuck under our back bumper!” Aldrich shouted, his shoulders straining as he fought to keep the wheel steady. “I can’t get enough traction on the back wheels to disengage.”

  Another hit jolted her forward. Their SUV pressed closer to the edge of the parking lot and copse of trees.

  She craned her neck to see the third SUV with Dr. Devins, Jarvis and Smith, but another bone-crunching hit whipped her head against the seat back as the SUV bucked closer to the tree line. “He’s pushing us into the trees!”

  Mac braced his hands against the back of the front seat, his other hand working his phone. “This is US Marshal James MacIntire. We need assistance at the Sleepy Time Residence Inn pronto! Three pickup trucks are ramming our SUVs.”

  Priscilla closed her eyes as the sound of an engine revving rent the air. Dear Lord, keep us safe. Her head hit the window while her seat belt tightened painfully across her lap and shoulders. The truck’s impact sent the SUV skittering across the pavement into the trees. The screech of metal crumpling rang off-key in her ears as the vehicle settled against a tree with a sickening crunch.

  The air vibrated for a split second before an eerie silence descended as if a tarp had been tossed over the SUV. Priscilla opened her eyes and gasped for breath. The entire right side had folded in on itself. Beside her, the metal frame pressed around Mac’s still body.

  “Mac?” Her voice came out at barely a whisper. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Mac?”

  No response.

  “Marshal Aldrich?” From her position behind the driver’s seat, she couldn’t clearly see the marshal. The airbag had deployed and his body slumped forward slightly. She called his name again, but he didn’t move. The only sound she heard was the roar of engines growing fainter—a sound she hoped indicated that the trucks had done their damage, then left.

  With shaking hands, she unclipped her seat belt, her body falling forward as the belt released. A quick inspection revealed no broken bones or major lacerations. Her shoulder ached and her head hurt.

  Just as she reached for Mac, her door creaked. Someone yanked it open. Her heart leaped with relief. Help had arrived.

  “I can’t tell how bad they’re hurt.” She slid gingerly out of the vehicle to allow her rescuer access to the marshals. When her feet hit the uneven ground, she stumbled.

  Someone reached out a gloved hand to steady her. For a long moment, she stared at the black leather-encased hand around her elbow. Then she raised her head to look straight into the face of Mason Culvert.

  The coldness of his gray eyes galvanized her into action. With a jerk, she freed her arm from his grasp, then pivoted as she stepped closer to him to drive her elbow into his stomach—with any luck, her aim would hit him where he’d had surgery a few days ago. Her movement caught him off guard and he fell back, giving her just enough space to dart to the left.

  Dodging around a pair of trees, she ran toward the parking lot, less than twenty-five feet away. Priscilla didn’t dare risk a glance back as she burst out of the woods and onto the gravel at the verge of the asphalt. Her heart pounded and her head ached as she tried to figure out which way to run.

  One SUV had been shoved against a dumpster at the far right of the lot, while the third SUV had crashed into the stand-alone manager’s office. Sirens wailed in the distance. All three pickup trucks had disappeared, leaving behind skid marks, crushed metal and the smell of burnt rubber.

  The road’s entrance would bring her into contact with the first responders on their way. She took one step. Then Culvert wrapped an arm around her waist, yanking her back against his solid chest. Something hard and cold pressed against her temple.

  “Not a sound. If you don’t come with me quietly and quickly, I will shoot you, then take out the marshals and your husband as well.” The steel behind his voice convinced her that to disobey would mean certain death—for herself and everyone else.

  She nodded slowly.

  “Good.” He placed his hand on her right shoulder, moving the gun to the small of her back. “This way.”

  Once at the tree line, Culvert pushed her deeper into the woods, following a barely discernible path. Stumbling over tree roots and brambles, she managed to keep herself upright as they progressed deeper into the woods. Culvert didn’t say a word, but his fingers dug into her shoulder as he forced her forward.

  Priscilla’s breath caught. Her head swam as a wave of dizziness crashed over her. Over and over in her mind, she prayed for the safety of Luc and the others, for her own safety, for them to find her and recapture Culvert. A stitch in her side competed with her bruised shoulder for attention, but she could only walk on, propelled by the man she had been running from for seven years.

  After what she estimate
d to be about half an hour, he jerked her to the right onto a more well-beaten path. Less than a minute later, the path ended in a clearing where an old beat-up pickup truck was parked. She squinted at the truck, something familiar about its shape and faded blue color. Then it dawned on her. It was the truck that had nearly run them off the road right after the shooting in the salon. Had that really been only four days ago?

  “Get in.” Culvert shoved her toward the driver’s side.

  Priscilla considered running for it, but his hand clamped down on her shoulder again.

  “Don’t even think about it.” He reached around her to open the driver’s-side door.

  She swallowed hard to keep from screaming in frustration at being in his power. Climbing into the truck was like climbing into her casket. Culvert crowded her over to the passenger side of the bench seat. The passenger’s-side door had been wired shut, no inside handle. No escape. Thank goodness the bench seats at least had seat belts, and she scrambled to put hers on while he started the truck. Cool air blasted from the vents and Priscilla leaned forward to adjust the direction of the air as a cover for sneaking a look in the side mirror. Only trees reflected in the mirror.

  “Unless you want me to blow off that pretty head of yours, stay still.”

  She straightened, willing herself to stay calm. “Where are you taking me?”

  He chuckled under his breath. “A little place down the road where we won’t be disturbed.”

  Priscilla couldn’t suppress a shudder. Her pulse accelerated along with the pain in her head. Why he hadn’t killed her in the SUV, she didn’t know. But she had no doubt that he would snuff out her life once they reached their destination.

  * * *

  Luc opened his eyes and groaned at the sunlight streaming directly into his vision. The acrid smell of burnt rubber and gasoline hit him at the same time pain radiated from his left shoulder through his upper arm where he’d been shot.

  He clenched his jaw and redirected his focus from the pain to taking inventory of his body. Feet, lower legs—all moved without pain. Ditto for his fingers, hands and forearms. He touched his forehead. His hand came away sticky with blood from a cut, but at least the blood wasn’t streaming down his face.

  The crushed frame of the SUV bracketed him in a cocoon of metal, but with effort, he was able to turn his head to the left. Laura appeared to be in worse shape, as her side of the SUV had been crushed against the dumpster, pushing the metal into the left side of her body.

  “Laura?”

  No response.

  “Myers?”

  Silence.

  Luc fumbled to release his seat belt. The clip had become shoved down into the seat and it took him several minutes to undo the clasp. The quietness of the scene made his heart skip a beat. Priscilla. In the milieu of coordinated attacks on the SUVs, he’d lost sight of Priscilla’s SUV. He had to find her, but he couldn’t leave Laura and Myers without checking them first. Lord, please be with Priscilla, let her be okay. Get her the help she needs.

  He moved closer to Laura and placed his fingertips on her neck. A faint but steady heartbeat pulsed. Luc tried to assess her injuries, but his first-aid training had been years ago, and in his fuzzy state of mind, he couldn’t dredge up what he was supposed to do first. He couldn’t see any obvious injuries, but she might have internal bleeding. What did you do for shock? Keep them warm. He shrugged off the hoodie jacket he wore and draped it over her still form.

  A siren wailed in the distance.

  “Hey, buddy.”

  Luc glanced over his shoulder, his hands shaking from delayed shock himself.

  A bearded man with a shaved head stood beside the vehicle. “I called 911 after seeing what those trucks did to the SUVs. Medical help’s on the way. You okay?”

  “I think so, but she’s unconscious. I can’t see the driver clearly. I don’t know about him.”

  “You stay put, and I’ll see if I can get to the driver through the front passenger door.” The burly man wrestled with the door for a few moments before it gave with a screech that set Luc’s teeth on edge. The SUV shifted as the man added his weight to the vehicle.

  Lord, please be with Priscilla, Luc prayed again as the man in the front punched down the airbag in front of Myers.

  “What’s his name?” The Good Samaritan whipped out a bandanna.

  “Myers. He’s a US marshal.” From Luc’s position near Laura, Luc could see only the back of Myers and the man beside him.

  “Marshal?” the man called, his voice loud and insistent. “Can you hear me?”

  Beside him, Laura stirred. Luc directed his attention to her face as her eyes fluttered open. “Laura, it’s Luc. Try not to move until we can assess your injuries.”

  In the front of the vehicle, the man again tried to rouse Myers.

  Laura blinked as if trying to focus her vision. “What happened?”

  “A pickup truck rammed us into the dumpster.” Luc kept his attention focused on Laura. “How’s your head?”

  Laura grimaced. “Hurts.” She moved her arms cautiously.

  “What about your limbs? Are your legs okay?” Luc kept his focus on Laura’s pale face as she slowly touched her legs.

  “I feel like someone walloped me hard, but I don’t think anything’s broken.” Laura’s eyelids flickered down, but she managed to open them wide again. “What about Myers?”

  “He’s unconscious but breathing,” the man in the front seat replied. “His pulse appears steady.”

  The sirens suddenly sounded much louder, and through the shattered back window of the SUV, Luc counted three fire trucks and two ambulances racing into the parking lot, followed by a couple of sheriff cruisers. “Help’s here.”

  Laura groaned. “Is Steven okay? Priscilla?”

  “I can’t see the other vehicles, but I’ll check as soon as someone comes to take care of you.” Luc ached to find Priscilla, to see if she was okay. His stomach twisted into knots at not knowing what had happened to her. The attack had been coordinated, which meant that someone, probably Culvert, had a plan beyond disabling the SUVs.

  Three firefighters ran up to their vehicle.

  The man in the front seat quickly moved out of the way and one of the firefighters took his place beside Myers.

  “Sir, are you okay?” a firewoman called from outside the vehicle.

  “I think so,” Luc said as two other firefighters used a crowbar to open the back passenger-side door.

  The firewoman leaned in to assess Luc, reaching for his pulse. “Good and steady.”

  “I’m fine, but she was unconscious.” He pointed to Laura.

  The firefighter reached across Luc to take Laura’s pulse. Then she turned to speak to the third firefighter. Returning her attention to Luc, she said, “We’re going to get a collar around you and get you onto a board.”

  If he were immobilized, he wouldn’t be able to check on Priscilla. “No, I can get out myself.”

  “Sir, you could be hurt and not know it.” The firewoman spoke firmly, her hand on the door frame.

  Luc didn’t have time for this. Priscilla needed him. “I’m getting out now.”

  The firefighter shook her head. “Suit yourself.”

  Luc swung his feet out of the SUV. As soon as his feet hit the ground, his knees wobbled, but he managed to stay upright. The firewoman scrambled into the back seat next to Laura.

  The third firefighter helped him sit a few feet away from the SUV. “You sure you don’t want a gurney?”

  Luc nodded. He offered an olive branch, knowing that the sooner someone gave him the once-over, the sooner Luc could find Priscilla. “You can check me out here.”

  The firefighter took Luc’s wrist between his fingers. “Let me get your pulse.”

  More ambulances and law-enforcement personnel poured into the parking lot, blo
cking Luc’s view of the other SUVs.

  “What’s your name?” The firefighter ran his hands down Luc’s arms, then legs, to check for broken bones.

  “Luc Langsdale.” He could see emergency personnel swarming toward the other two vehicles, one of which landed nearly in the trees, the other by the manager’s office.

  The firefighter pointed to the bulky bandage under Luc’s shirtsleeve. “What happened?”

  Luc settled for a half-truth instead of saying he’d been shot a few days earlier, which would only invite more questions. “It’s just a scratch.”

  “Hmm.” The firefighter eyed him for a moment, then peppered Luc with more questions before strongly recommending Luc go to the hospital for further evaluation. “You sit tight, and we’ll get you transported to the hospital soon.” He jogged off to find an ambulance for Luc.

  Luc pushed himself to his feet, staggered just a little to gain his balance and headed off toward the tree line. He’d check that SUV first for Priscilla. As he approached, he could hear Mac’s voice.

  “I’m fine!” Mac sounded irritated and in pain.

  Luc couldn’t see Mac because of an EMT blocking the open back passenger door of the SUV.

  “I don’t need to go to the hospital.” Mac’s voice had a tone in it that made Luc’s heart drop.

  Something wasn’t right. This wasn’t a man who simply didn’t want medical attention. This was a man worried about something else.

  Luc stopped near the car, his eyes taking in Mac sitting in the back seat and Aldrich being put on a stretcher from the driver’s seat. The back door opposite Mac stood wide open, with no sign of Priscilla.

  The world spun, and for a second, Luc thought he might go down, but he drew in a ragged breath to ask the question to which he already knew the answer. “Mac, where’s Priscilla?”

  The marshal looked at him, his face gray with fatigue and pain. “Gone.”

  TWENTY

  “Priscilla’s gone?” Luc didn’t try to hide the fear in his voice. His body ached but his heart hurt worse.