Covert Christmas

by Hope White

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Another missing hiker.”

  “You should go.”

  “I’m not leaving you.”

  “There’s only a few hours of daylight left. They probably need as many volunteers as possible.”

  She sighed. “You’re right. But would you please wait at my cottage for me to get back?”

  “Okay.” He pulled her into a hug and held on for a few seconds, then released her, looking down into her beautiful green eyes. “Be careful,” he said and kissed her. The way she leaned into him, welcoming the gesture, made him feel confident and at peace. When he broke the kiss, she glanced up and smiled.

  “That was nice,” she said.

  “I’m glad you think so.”

  She gave him the security code and key to her place. “See you later?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  After she left he headed to her cottage, hyperaware of his surroundings. But he didn’t see anything strange like “Rich” hiding in the bushes. Scott climbed her front steps, pressed the code and went inside.

  He hesitated beside the living room, now decorated for Christmas. He could picture her there, surrounded by friends, opening presents and drinking hot apple cider. A smile tugged at his lips.

  He wished they’d met under normal circumstances, through mutual friends or church. Scott realized for once he considered going to church if he knew he’d meet Breanna there.

  “Stop dreaming,” he muttered and headed to the kitchen where she kept her laptop. He wanted to open the map program again, the one that showed a direct line between Lake Hawthorne, the GRI plant and the river where he’d taken a sample yesterday. He tapped his jeans pocket. The vial was still safe and sound.

  A knock at the front door echoed down the hallway. Bree must have forgotten something and she couldn’t get into the house because she’d given Scott her key. He went to the front door and swung it open with a smile.

  And was looking at his boss from Chicago.

  SEVENTEEN

  “Mr. Oppenheimer, what are you doing here?”

  “Good, so you remember me,” he joked. “And please, call me Phillip. I’m not that much older than you.”

  Scott motioned him inside.

  “I was in Seattle on business and heard you were in Echo Mountain so I thought I’d track you down,” Phillip said.

  “How did you know where to find me?”

  “The concierge said if you weren’t in your room you might be visiting a friend in this quaint cottage. I don’t suppose she’s got a coffeemaker back there?” He glanced down the hallway to the kitchen.

  “Of course.” Scott led him back to the kitchen, stunned that the man cared enough to come looking for Scott.

  “I’m a bit shocked you’re here.” Scott motioned to the kitchen table and his boss sat down.

  Scott brewed coffee, realizing how odd it felt to be in Bree’s kitchen having a conversation with his boss from Chicago. It was as though he was straddling two different worlds.

  “I understand you suffered a head injury and have amnesia?” Phillip said.

  “Yes, sir, but I’m starting to remember. I think I’ve found solid evidence of sabotage.”

  “Excellent.”

  “I believe someone has been dumping illegal toxins from the plant into natural water sources in the Cascades, then made it look like the plant was responsible,” Scott said.

  “Yes, and I suspect I know who’s behind it,” Phillip said.

  “You do?” Scott poured two mugs of coffee and slid one to Phillip.

  “A competitor from South America,” Phillip said. “I actually resolved this issue a month ago.”

  “But then why did you send me up here?”

  “To finish closing the plant. Then you fell off the grid and I sent someone else.”

  “But men have been after me.”

  “Probably the saboteurs hoping to stop you from destroying evidence.”

  “Destroying evidence? I don’t understand.”

  “That came out wrong.” He leaned back in his chair. “You were going to supervise the dissemination of equipment and ship it to a new, more secure location in Idaho.”

  “This was all for nothing?”

  “No, Scott. Whatever evidence you have I can take to the feds and clear our company of any wrongdoing. I’d like to get on that as quickly as possible.”

  Scott hesitated, but realized this was his boss, the man he was trying to protect.

  He dug the vial out of his pocket. “I took this water sample yesterday from a river between the plant and Lake Hawthorne.”

  “Good, excellent,” Phillip said, taking the vial.

  Scott considered telling him about the two vials he’d given to someone for safekeeping, but since Scott couldn’t remember who had them he decided to keep it to himself so he wouldn’t look like an idiot.

  “The men who are after me and my friend Breanna—”

  “Should leave you alone once I meet with authorities,” Phillip said.

  “And they were after me because...?”

  “They wanted to stop you from gathering evidence that would clear my name. I have some evidence of my own. I’ll be going to the feds and ending this within the next twenty-four hours thanks to you.” He held up the vial. “You should be very proud of yourself.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Scott said, but for some reason he didn’t feel proud. Perhaps because he’d put Bree in the line of fire.

  “My senior advisors were concerned about your behavior, but I said you’d come through in the end. Well, I’d better get going. My jet’s waiting at Sea-Tac.”

  Scott walked his boss down the hallway and opened the door.

  “Why don’t you take another week to recuperate?” Phillip said. “It’s invigorating out here.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  They shook hands.

  Scott’s gaze caught on Phillip’s gold, chain link bracelet. A flash of memory rushed through his mind: Phillip slamming his fist on a desk.

  Leave it alone, Becket!

  But if someone’s illegally dumping—

  They’re not and that’s the end of it.

  For Scott, it had only been the beginning. Scott ripped his hand from Phillip’s.

  This man was the enemy.

  “Scott?” Phillip questioned.

  Now what? If Scott revealed his thoughts, this could go bad awfully fast. Phillip traveled with security, Scott knew that firsthand since he’d been one of them. Security had to be close, waiting for Phillip’s signal to swoop in and neutralize the threat—Scott.

  “I get these random migraines,” Scott said, rubbing his temples for effect.

  “From your fall in the mountains?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “It’s a good thing they have a well-trained search and rescue group in Echo County or your injuries might have been much worse.” Phillip scanned the mountain range in the distance, then pinned Scott with a serious frown. “Have any of the volunteers ever been hurt while on a mission?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “That’s remarkable considering the rugged nature of the Cascade Mountains. There was commotion in the lobby when I arrived today. Apparently a team was assembling for a mission?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Let’s hope they all come back unharmed.”

  Was that a veiled threat?

  “They’re well trained and experienced,” Scott said. “They know what they’re doing.”

  “Yes, but with sudden weather changes I’ve heard anything could happen.” Phillip glanced into Bree’s house. “It would be a shame if this lovely girl got caught up in a storm she didn’t anticipate.” He looked
back at Scott. “Wouldn’t it?”

  So Phillip knew about Breanna. Scott struggled to maintain his self-control, but felt his fingers curl into a fist.

  His boss, this entitled, wealthy bully was threatening Breanna in order to keep Scott in line. Had Phillip sent his own men into the mountains as a fail-safe, a way to make sure Scott stayed out of his business? Scott realized that Phillip must have known about the toxic dumping and did nothing to stop it because it would affect the bottom line. The whole competitor from South America story was a lie.

  “Scott?” Phillip snapped his fingers in Scott’s face and Scott glanced at him.

  “Thought I’d lost you there for a minute,” Phillip said.

  “I’m sorry, sir. I guess I need to lie down.”

  “Of course. Give me a call when you’re ready to return to work.” With a victorious smile, Phillip turned and walked to a waiting limousine. “Rich” stood beside it wearing a smirk.

  Scott shut the door, paralyzed by the thought of Bree being vulnerable and in danger while on a mission because Phillip’s men were sent to hurt her if Scott pointed the finger at the real criminal: Phillip Oppenheimer.

  “No,” he ground out, as a rush of memory flooded to the surface. He hadn’t taken time off to investigate Phillip’s enemies, he’d taken time off to prove his theory about Phillip being responsible for the water contamination. Unfortunately Scott had been assaulted in the mountains before he could get the final water samples to authorities.

  And now he’d just handed crucial evidence over to the enemy. There wasn’t time to get another water sample, not with Bree’s life at stake, yet he needed something to neutralize Phillip.

  If only he had another sample to turn over to authorities. He fisted his hand, struggling with a memory of who he’d given two vials to for safe keeping.

  “Later,” he said. Right now he had to protect Breanna, but he couldn’t do it alone.

  * * *

  Ten minutes later Aiden showed up at Bree’s cottage.

  “What’s the emergency?” Aiden said, stepping inside.

  Scott scanned the area and shut the door. “Your sister’s in trouble.”

  “She’s been in trouble ever since you fell at her feet, what else is new?” He went into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee.

  “My boss from Chicago was here,” Scott said. “I’m pretty sure he’s behind the tainted water. He’s the one who sent the muscle to neutralize me, and now he’s threatening Bree.”

  “You’re being paranoid. He doesn’t even know her.” Aiden sipped his coffee.

  “He’s using Bree to keep me from talking to the authorities.”

  “Bree’s with Harvey on a mission. She’s fine.”

  “Don’t you understand, he’s probably sent his men out there in case I did something stupid. He’s a manipulative, dangerous man!”

  Aiden raised an eyebrow at Scott as though he was questioning Scott’s sanity.

  “Look, Aiden, I’ll do anything, even promise to stay away from your sister if you’d just take me seriously. Please—” his voice cracked “—you’ve got to help me protect her.”

  Aiden cocked his head as if he were putting together a puzzle. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Call field command and tell them not to let Bree go on the mission, say there’s a family emergency or something. Then go get her and keep her safe.”

  “What about you?”

  “I have to figure out where I stashed the other evidence. I left it with someone but can’t remember who.”

  “Bree’s gonna be upset when I pull her off the mission.”

  “As long as she’s safe, she can be furious.”

  * * *

  Scott spent the next hour in Harvey’s office going through video footage of the resort, hoping to see something that could give him a clue as to where he’d hidden the two vials. They were critical in his investigation; he wouldn’t have given them to just anyone.

  But he wouldn’t have involved the cops, not until he was sure he had enough evidence against Phillip.

  Nervous energy drove him to check messages at the front desk, hoping for one from Aiden about Bree being back and safe at the resort.

  “Hello, Mr. Becket,” a young man in his twenties said from behind the counter. His nametag read Tripp.

  “Hi, I’m wondering if anyone’s left any messages for me?”

  The clerk checked Scott’s box. “Nothing up here, but they could have left a message in your room’s voice mail.”

  “Thanks.” He started for his room.

  “Mr. Becket?” Tripp said.

  Scott turned to him.

  “They’re serving Baked Alaska for dessert in the dining room tonight.”

  Scott narrowed his eyes at the guy. “Okay, thanks.”

  “Baked Alaska,” the clerk repeated with a nod.

  Scott walked back to the front desk. “And you’re telling me this because...?”

  “Tripp, do you know if—” Nia hesitated as she came out of the office. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize you were with a guest. How are you feeling, Mr. Becket?”

  “Better, thanks.” He glanced at Tripp. “Baked Alaska, huh?”

  “Made it two hours ago.”

  “Tripp, what are you talking about?” Nia said.

  Scott figured Tripp was communicating in code, assuming Scott would understand the message.

  “Have you got a minute?” he asked Tripp, and motioned him out from behind the counter.

  “Can you watch the desk for a sec?” Tripp asked Nia.

  Nia raised an eyebrow. “Sure.”

  Tripp joined Scott in the lobby and they found a secluded alcove near the coffee station.

  “I guess you haven’t heard, I had a fall and I’m struggling with my memory,” Scott said.

  “Whoa, when did that happen?”

  “Sunday.”

  “Ah, I was on vacation until today.”

  “And the Baked Alaska comment?”

  “You asked me to hold something for you in the hotel safe and if anyone inquired about it to let you know by saying Baked Alaska.”

  “Someone asked about it two hours ago?”

  “Yes, sir. He said by chance were you keeping anything in the hotel safe? I was going to tell him I’m not at liberty to share information about our guests, but he looked sketchy so I denied that you’d kept anything with us.”

  “But there is something there?”

  Tripp nodded.

  “Man, you might have just saved my life. Can you get it and meet me in the men’s bathroom?”

  “Sure.”

  Scott went to the men’s room and waited. It seemed more secluded than the public lobby, a better place for the exchange. A few minutes later Tripp entered the bathroom and handed Scott a padded envelope.

  “Thanks,” Scott said.

  “Of course. If you need anything else, I work the day shift.” With a nod Tripp left and Scott studied the package.

  This was it. At least he hoped this was it—the evidence he’d hidden before his hike up into the mountains.

  He ripped open the envelope exposing two vials of liquid with OPR and SR, which stood for Oppenheimer Plant Reservoir and Susha River. Bingo. Both were bodies of water that, if tainted, proved the toxins were coming directly from Phillip’s plant. Scott also found a flash drive inside the envelope.

  “Huh.” He shoved the drive into his jeans pocket and slipped the vials into his jacket. It was all coming together.

  Anxious to see what was on the flash drive, Scott walked through the lobby heading back to Bree’s cottage. He’d use her laptop to access the information.

  As he turned the corner, he spotted Bree’s uncle Chuck hov
ering in the hallway.

  “Chief?” Scott said.

  “Where have you been? She’s been asking for you.”

  “Who, Bree?”

  “Come on.” He motioned Scott down the hall.

  “Is she okay? Why didn’t Aiden call?”

  “Now not, not now,” he hushed.

  Panic knotted in Scott’s chest. Had she been hurt? Was Aiden too late?

  They went outside and her uncle motioned Scott toward his police cruiser.

  “Where is she?” Scott said.

  “Stop talking and get in.”

  Something felt off.

  “Hang on, where is Bree?”

  “I said, get in!” Uncle Chuck withdrew his firearm and pointed it at Scott’s chest. “You wouldn’t leave her alone. You had to involve her in this garbage.”

  He flicked the gun barrel toward the car. Scott knew he wasn’t being taken to see Bree. He also knew if he got into the car, he wasn’t getting out alive.

  “Get in or I’ll shoot you where you stand,” the man threatened.

  “Uncle Chuck, what are you doing?” Bree gasped.

  EIGHTEEN

  Bree couldn’t believe her uncle was threatening to shoot Scott.

  “It’s his fault, all of this is his fault,” Uncle Chuck said in a tight voice she didn’t recognize.

  “What’s his fault?” Bree asked, stepping into his sight line, hoping to dissuade him.

  “All this violence is because this man came to Echo Mountain.”

  “No, the men who were after Scott are responsible for the violence.”

  “Because of him!” he shouted.

  Aiden jogged up behind Uncle Chuck and she put out her hand to caution him to stay back. Her uncle was having some kind of breakdown and she didn’t want him to be startled into pulling the trigger.

  “Why don’t you lower the gun and we’ll talk about it?” Bree suggested.

  “No more talking.” He flicked the barrel of the gun at Scott. “He’s got what I want. Let’s have it.”

  Scott pulled something out of his jacket pocket and held it up. Two vials of liquid.

  “Give it to me. I’m taking it to the feds and I’ll end this thing.”