Alaskan Rescue

by Terri Reed

  It was time to resume her life. She had a race to prep for. Ariel had confidence that her dogs would do well. If she placed in the top four positions, she’d make a bit of money to keep things afloat until the next race or next litter of puppies.

  First, though, she had to be able to stand and walk on her own, without the crutches or leaning on Hunter. Slowly, she put weight on her injured ankle. Tender, but doable.

  Sasha nipped at her toes as she put on her socks. She tossed a small stuffed toy for him to tackle while she managed to put on a pair of sturdy hiking boots that would support her ankle. Determined Hunter was not going to thwart her effort to exercise her dogs, she squared her shoulders and left her room. However, Hunter and Juneau were not in the house. They must’ve gone for a run. Something that had become their routine each morning.

  She made herself a cup of strong black vanilla bean tea and put it in a thermos. After feeding the dogs and giving them their supplements, she released them to the outside fenced area. She contemplated hooking the dogs up to a sled and heading down the fire road, but the recent events kept her from doing what she normally would. Frustration bit into her like a rabid dog.

  Ariel wanted her life back to normal. She wanted her best friend home and well. And she wanted to not be afraid to go about her day. But the reality was, she had to be patient. A feat that seemed insurmountable at times.

  An odd tingling at the base of her neck had her searching the trees beyond the fence marking the property boundary. Was someone watching her? A shiver of fear raced down her spine.

  Movement in her peripheral vision jolted her heart rate, and a small gasp escaped her as Juneau came bounding around the corner of the kennel building. Her heart calmed from the momentary fright but sped up for an entirely different reason as Hunter came into view, striding purposely toward her. He had on running pants, a long-sleeve T-shirt and a beanie over his dark hair.

  “You should have waited for me,” he said, clearly displeased.

  Glancing at the trees, she nodded. “Sorry. I was anxious to get out of the house.”

  “The ankle is better?”

  She lifted her foot and rotated her ankle. “Yep.”

  Hunter’s phone rang. He grabbed it from the pocket of his running pants. “I have to take this.” He headed toward the house. “Are you coming?”

  “Yes, I’ll be right there.” She allowed him a head start to give him privacy on his call.

  He opened the back door and Sasha escaped the house, shooting past Hunter and Juneau to race toward Ariel.

  Laughing, she squatted down to wait for the puppy to reach her. A sharp crack echoed through the trees, startling her. The wood railing next to her head splintered. For a heartbeat, she froze. Then realization stole her breath.

  Gunfire. Someone was shooting at her.

  She hobbled forward as fast as she could with her injured ankle, the pain a small price to pay. More shots were fired, the loud sound reverberating through the air. Bits of gravel, dirt and snow flew from the impact of the bullets hitting the ground close to her feet. She released the dogs from the pen and pointed to the house. “Inside!”

  Sasha yelped, his little body quivering. Her heart leaped in her throat. She scooped up the puppy just as Hunter tore out of the house, running toward her.

  She gestured wildly. “Go back!”

  But he didn’t. Instead, he wrapped her and Sasha into his arms, using his back as a shield, and hurried them inside the house behind the other dogs.

  “Somebody’s shooting at me.” Her disbelief made her mind sluggish.

  “You and the dogs get down!” He pushed her underneath the dining table. “Stay here.”

  With his sidearm in hand, Hunter and Juneau ran out the back door.

  “No!” she protested, afraid they’d get hurt. But he was gone. She gathered the dogs close, burying her nose in Sasha’s fur.

  She waited for a long moment. Dread choked her. She couldn’t let Hunter be out there alone. What if the person shot him? Or Juneau.

  Terror sliced through her, leaving a bleeding trail. She needed to call for backup. Decision made, she crawled out from underneath the table, keeping the puppy close to her body like a football and herding the dogs to stay at her side. Then she grabbed the house phone, hurried into the bathroom and closed the door.

  Dialing 911, she prayed Hunter would return to her safely.

  * * *

  Hunter ran in a crouch as he and Juneau headed off to the southwest corner of the property, where he was pretty sure the shots had originated. There was no cover for him or Juneau. He kept to the fence built on the property line. Then he took a breath, sent up a prayer for safety and bolted over the wooden fence. Juneau climbed underneath the rails. In the woods of spruce and aspens, the assailant crashed through the underbrush, not even trying for stealth. Juneau ran ahead of Hunter, leading the way toward the fire road.

  The slam of a vehicle door followed by the roar of an engine ground Hunter’s teeth together. The intruder was gone by the time he broke through the trees to the snow-packed road. And he noted that the barricade the police had erected had been dismantled. Hunter whistled to bring Juneau back; he didn’t want the dog following the suspect’s vehicle out onto the highway.

  Now there was no question whoever had been targeting Ariel was using the fire road. He curled his fingers into fists.

  Picking his way back through the trees, Hunter used his phone to report the incident and say that the shooter was gone. He learned Ariel had already made the call. Admiration for her spread through his chest. The woman had so much grit and spunk, compassion and kindness. She was also loyal and pragmatic. Stubborn. One of a kind. He was falling hard for her.

  The realization made him stumble over a root.

  Juneau’s barking diverted Hunter’s attention from his inner turmoil. He picked up speed, eating up the ground until he found the dog sitting next to a tree. On the ground at his feet lay a baseball cap. He removed a dog waste bag from his pocket and used the edge of it to pick up the hat so that he didn’t contaminate the evidence. Then, searching the ground, he spotted three shell casings. He gathered those in the bag as well, careful to keep from handling them too much.

  When he and Juneau arrived back at Ariel’s house, he found her locked in the bathroom.

  “Ariel, you’re safe,” he called to her through the door as he slipped on a fresh T-shirt.

  The door flew open, dogs poured out and she threw herself into his arms. He held her against him. Emotions crashed through him. Affection. Joy. Relief. And then a fierce wave of frustration that this perp almost killed her pounded at his temples. He had to do a better job of keeping her safe.

  She leaned away from him. “I was so worried. I was afraid that you would be shot.”

  He gave her a smile he hoped was reassuring. “I’m made of Teflon.”

  Her mouth thinned. “No,” she said. “You’re not. You’re flesh and blood. And you’re in danger by being here.”

  His arms tightened around her. “Danger is a part of my job, Ariel.”

  She dropped her gaze and leaned her head against his chest. “I know. And it scares me.”

  With the crook of his finger, he lifted her chin. “Ariel, I know you believe and trust God.”

  She nodded, her eyes never leaving his.

  He cupped her cheek with his palm. “Then you have to trust that He will protect both of us.”

  For a moment, she stared at him. Then her hand slid around his neck and pulled him close until their lips met. She kissed him deeply, tenderly, and his heart swelled with more emotions than he could handle.

  When she pulled away, she smiled. “Thank you for that reminder. I do trust God. And I trust you.”

  She let him go and walked toward the living room, leaving him standing there, stunned. He hadn’t understood until this moment h
ow much her trust meant to him. It was everything. She was everything. Boy, he was in trouble.

  “I called for backup,” she said over her shoulder. “They should be here soon.”

  That was just what he needed to galvanize him into action. He joined Ariel on the front porch. She’d put the adult dogs back in the outdoor pen and now cradled Sasha in her arms. Juneau sat beside her. Moments later, a Metro police cruiser arrived with lights flashing and parked, followed by an Alaska K-9 Unit vehicle.

  Poppy Walsh and Stormy jumped out of the vehicle and hurried to confer with the police officers.

  Hunter and Ariel met the trio in the driveway. Quickly he explained the situation as the officers took notes. “There are spent bullets here in the drive. And I have a baggie of shell casings I found in the woods.”

  “We’ll find the bullets,” the older of the two officers said.

  As soon as the officers moved away, Poppy gave Ariel a kind smile. “Are you okay?”

  “I am now,” she said. “I shouldn’t have left the protection of the house. When is this going to end?”

  Hunter put his arm around her waist. “Soon.”

  Ariel glanced up to meet his gaze as she leaned against him. “You can’t promise that.”

  No, he couldn’t, but he wanted to. He wanted to keep this woman safe, to keep her close and to tell her—

  Poppy cleared her throat, her eyebrows raised.

  Hunter dropped his arm from around Ariel as a heated flush crept up his neck. “Let’s take this inside. I have something to show you.”

  He led the way into the house.

  “I’ve interviewed Mrs. James and the people who work at the estate where Violet lives with her mom,” Poppy said.

  “And they told you the same thing I did,” Ariel said with confidence. “Violet wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

  “Yes, that is the same thing I’ve heard from everyone who knows her,” Poppy confirmed. “Everyone except her fiancé.”

  Ariel made a scoffing noise.

  “I’ve also interviewed the groom’s family,” Poppy said. “Lance’s parents, Ann and Carl Wells, say he’s a wonderful son and are very concerned for his well-being.”

  “And the other people in his life?” Hunter asked.

  “Here’s where it gets interesting,” Poppy went on to say. “His ex-girlfriend, Leah Orr, has a completely different story. She says he lies easily. She caught him in several over the course of the six months they dated, and he ended their relationship when an inheritance she was supposed to get didn’t pan out.”

  “What kind of lies?” Hunter asked.

  “She didn’t go into specifics,” Poppy said. “I had the impression the lies weren’t anything big enough to cause her to break it off.”

  “Violet didn’t know about the ex-girlfriend,” Ariel interjected. “At least, she never mentioned her to me. Have you interviewed Lance’s sister, Tessa Wells? She and Lance weren’t on speaking terms. Violet was hoping to meet her before the wedding.”

  “She’s out of the country. But I talked to a couple of her friends who said that she didn’t think too highly of her golden boy brother. I will make sure to interview her when she returns.”

  “And what about Jared?” Hunter asked.

  “Will’s been looking into him,” Poppy said. “The last I heard, he was having trouble finding anyone willing to talk to him about Lance’s best man. Apparently he doesn’t have family. Kept to himself when out on the commercial fishing boats.”

  “That’s right,” Ariel said. “I remember Violet mentioning that Jared grew up in foster care.”

  “Ariel, what did you think of Lance?” Poppy asked.

  Hunter was also interested to know. She’d never spoken a bad word about her best friend’s fiancé, though she’d denied their claims that Violet was violent.

  Ariel made a face. “Well, to be honest, I have never really liked Lance. Or Jared, for that matter. But Lance made Violet happy so I had to be happy for her.”

  “What about Lance and Jared did you not like?” Hunter asked.

  “There was nothing overt that I could put a finger on. Just little subtle things. Like when we would go out to eat as a group or go anywhere, really, Lance made all the decisions. He rarely consulted Violet or any of us for an opinion. I think Violet felt taken care of, maybe?” Ariel shrugged. “Her father was a commanding, run-the-show kind of man.”

  Hunter had no doubt that Lance’s behavior would grate on Ariel. She was too independent to let any man choose for her. He liked that independent spirit. “And Jared?”

  She shrugged. “Nothing I can articulate.”

  “You said you had something to show me,” Poppy reminded him.

  “Yes.” He moved to the dining table and showed her the ball cap and bullet casings.

  Ariel let out a little gasp.

  Hunter narrowed his gaze at her. “You recognize this hat?”

  “Not the hat specifically,” she said. “That’s Carly Winters’s logo.”

  The name sounded familiar, but he couldn’t place it. “And who is she?”

  Disbelief shone in her eyes as she stared at him. “The redhead you met the other night.”

  An image flashed in his mind of a woman in a green dress. “Right,” he said. “The woman who talked to us at the banquet hall. Is there a story there between you two?”

  Ariel blew out a breath. “Not between us, per se. She moved here about a year and a half ago and started a breeding program.”

  “So basically, she’s your competition?” Poppy asked.

  “Technically, yes,” Ariel said.

  “Why didn’t you mention her before?” Hunter mentally added Carly Winters to his list of suspects. Now they had three. Her ex-boyfriend, Jason, a competitive breeder named Carly, and Ariel’s best friend, Violet. Which one of them wanted her dead?

  “I didn’t want to speak ill of her. It would sound like sour grapes,” Ariel said with concern in her eyes.

  “Is she breeding Alaskan huskies, as well?” he asked.

  “She is.”

  Could this other breeder want to do away with her competition? Hunter wanted to talk to this woman. “Are her dogs as good as yours?”

  “It’s too soon to tell,” Ariel said.

  “Could she be jealous of you?” Poppy asked.

  “I don’t know.” Concern lanced across Ariel’s face. “We don’t socialize.”

  Hunter doubted Ariel socialized with very many people because she was so focused on her dogs and her business.

  “Carly has been wanting to buy one of my adult dogs since she arrived in town,” Ariel said. “I’ve always said no because I’m not ready to retire any of my breeding dogs and I’m not going to sell a still viable dog to my competition. But, that said, I don’t see her doing this.”

  Of course she didn’t. Ariel tended to see the good in people. Hunter wasn’t so inclined. “Poppy, do you mind taking the evidence to Tala and see if she can get any kind of DNA or prints that we could use?”

  The forensic scientist was the best in the state. Hunter knew if there was anything to find, she’d find it.

  “Of course,” Poppy said. “Do you have a brown paper bag I could carry this in?”

  Ariel found one, and then they walked Poppy outside.

  The two police officers held up an evidence bag containing three spent bullets. Poppy had them place the plastic bag inside the brown paper bag.

  “Can you have Tala run the ballistics against the bullet we found in Cal Brooks?” Hunter asked.

  “I sure will.” Concern darkened Poppy’s green eyes. “What are you two going to do?”

  Hunter contemplated Ariel’s comment that Carly wanted to buy a dog. “You mentioned before that you have people requesting to purchase your dogs.”

  Ariel nodde
d. “I have people all over the place who contact me about buying the puppies.”

  “We are going to pay Carly Winters a visit,” Hunter decided because the woman was local, but was she out to hurt Ariel? “I’ll ask the police officers to stay here until we return. Just to make sure no shenanigans happen while we’re gone.”

  Surprise flared in Ariel’s eyes. “I need to put the pack away. I’ll be right back.”

  Hunter watched her walk away, glad to see she wasn’t limping. He spoke to the officers, who agreed to stay until he and Ariel returned.

  “What should I tell the colonel?” Poppy asked.

  “Tell her there’s something else going on here. That these attacks on Ariel aren’t being done by Violet James.”

  Poppy titled her head. “And what are you speculating about the attacks on Lance and Jared?”

  “Two different cases,” he said. “It could very well be Violet who is after Lance and Jared. But she’s not the one targeting Ariel.”

  Poppy nodded. “I agree. Do you want me to accompany you to Carly Winters’s place?”

  Hunter didn’t hesitate. “Actually, yes, that would be appreciated.”

  With Poppy following them and Ariel giving directions, Hunter drove to the Winters Kennels. The place wasn’t as big as Ariel’s property. A small two-story house stood off to the side of what Hunter suspected was the kennel building and a dog run. Hunter glimpsed movement at the window.

  Someone was home. He knocked on the front door. A few moments later, the redheaded breeder opened the door.

  Her dark brown eyes widened. “You were with Ariel at the banquet.”

  “That I was,” Hunter replied. “Trooper McCord. I have a few questions for you.”

  She frowned, her gaze going over his shoulder. “What is this about?”

  “We found a ball cap with your logo on it at a crime scene,” Hunter said, watching the woman closely.

  Surprise flared in her eyes. “Okay. That has nothing to do with me.” She leaned against the doorjamb and crossed her arms over her chest. “Lots of people have my hats. I give them out at races and events. Is she accusing me of something?”