She’d never understood that when she rejected the uniform, she was rejecting him. Being a trooper was the only thing he’d ever been truly good at.
Even with the hazardous conditions, he drove the distance in less than fifteen minutes and exited the truck with his weapon drawn. There was no other vehicle in sight. The killer hadn’t walked here in this weather, which meant he’d already fled the scene.
The temperature was still dropping, so Shane left the key in the ignition. The only way to guarantee the truck would start again was to leave it running.
Walt’s house was an A-frame cabin featuring a long, shallow porch across the front. Shane peered in the window, and his pulse spiked.
Walt lay sprawled on the living room floor, a growing pool of red surrounding his body.
Kara. Had Walt’s killer discovered her hiding place?
Shouting, “Alaska state trooper,” he entered through the unlocked front door and searched his immediate surroundings. The house was chopped up into smaller rooms, limiting his line of sight.
He dropped to one knee beside Walt’s body and checked the prone man’s wrist with two fingers. No pulse.
He stalked through the kitchen and into the bedroom off the hallway where he yanked open the closet. The space was a jumble of clothes and shoes. No Kara.
He stepped back into the hallway and glanced down. Wet ovals ended at the mat near the back door. There was a second door to his right. Keeping his body angled and his gun at the ready, he whipped open the door, then rummaged through the hanging coats. Nothing. There was no place else to hide in the small house.
As he calculated his next move, her scent teased his senses, immediately triggering his emotions. He recognized the perfume Kara wore, something with cherry blossoms, she’d said.
This was where she’d hidden.
Forcing the panic from his system, Shane radioed confirmation of the homicide to the safety officer at the trooper post.
Hoping for the best but preparing for the worst, he requested backup and an ambulance.
At least there was no sign of a struggle. That boded well for Kara.
“Think, Shane,” he muttered into the silence.
The kennels.
Kara put more stock in animals than people. In this case, she might have a point. Moving swiftly, Shane exited the house and bent his head into the blowing snow. Once inside the kennels, the dogs barked at his arrival. It didn’t take him long to find what he needed. He snatched a leash off the hook and attached it to the collar of Walt’s prize malamute.
“C’mon, Sitka.” He patted the dog’s head. “You’re going to help me.”
Sitka’s ears swiveled forward.
“Right,” Shane muttered.
After a hasty search, he discovered a pair of women’s gloves sitting atop Kara’s veterinary bag and waved them beneath the dog’s nose.
Though Sitka wasn’t trained in tracking, the malamute was incredibly intelligent. He’d figure it out.
“Help me,” Shane cajoled. “Let’s find Kara. C’mon. Just tell me which way she went, and I’ll take it from there.”
The dog whimpered and scuffed at the floor. Sitka lowered his head and sniffed, then made for the door.
“That’s my boy!” Shane exclaimed.
Together they plunged into the blowing snow. Shane had seen just about every disastrous outcome possible in this weather over the years.
If Kara was in this blizzard, she didn’t have much time before hypothermia set in.
If there was one constant about Kara, though, she was a survivor. He’d cling to that knowledge.
Sitka took off in one direction, then hesitated, his snout kicking up tufts of snow. Shane searched for any sign of Kara’s movements, but the wind had swept away any remnants of tracks. He quickly scrolled mentally through the possibilities.
Her car hadn’t been parked out front, and her snow machine was nowhere to be seen. If she’d gotten to transportation, she’d be headed for town.
Sitka barked and yanked on the lead.
Shane gave the dog his head.
Feeling a tenuous thread of hope, Shane thrashed to keep up. Sitka bounded through the undulating drifts in excited leaps.
The overturned snow machine caught his attention first, and his heart stalled. Another dark form took shape through the swirling flakes. He ripped the flaps of his hat loose from around his face and gave an involuntary shout. He’d found Kara.
He looped Sitka’s leash over a low branch. “Stay.”
With equal amounts of hope and dread, Shane took exaggerated steps through the deepening snow.
He sank onto his knees and did a quick search for signs of injury. His rushed inspection revealed a tear in her snowsuit where blood oozed from her thigh. The wound wasn’t deep, but the bleeding was worrisome.
Kara’s eyes fluttered open. Her dark hair framed her pale face, and crystalline flakes coated her long eyelashes.
He gently pressed her bare fingers between his gloved hands, and she winced.
“We’ll get you squared away,” he said gruffly. “Don’t worry.”
“Walt.” Her voice was weak and barely audible over the wind. “He’s—”
“I know. Don’t think about that now. We have to get you back to town.”
“He’s, he’s...”
“Are you hurt anywhere else?”
She moved her head from side to side.
“Good,” he replied, infusing his voice with more optimism than he felt.
The color of the skin on her fingers indicated early stages of frostbite. He reached for the first aid kit attached to his duty belt and fumbled for a roll of bandages.
“You came for me,” she said.
The note of surprise in her voice cut him to the quick.
There were times when they were dating when he’d felt as though she was looking for a reason to be disappointed in him.
This felt like one of those times. “Of course, I came.”
She’d immediately snagged his eye when she’d moved to town. New people were always a novelty—but it had been more than that. There was something about Kara that had attracted him right away.
Initially, she’d been guarded. He’d been patient. Men outnumbered women in Alaska, and the attention was often overwhelming. Not wanting to upset her, he’d kept his distance at first. He’d wanted her to know he was sincere. When he’d asked her out for coffee, he’d been shocked when she said yes.
After she applied to rent one of the town houses in Kodiak Springs, he’d done a courtesy background check on her for the rental agency. There’d been nothing of note in her past. College in the lower forty-eight, then vet school. No arrests listed. Nothing out of order. That should have been enough to satisfy his curiosity. Yet after dating her for nearly four months, he’d gotten little additional information.
Her reluctance to share even the most straightforward personal details of her past set off alarm bells. She was hiding something. Soon he’d found himself waiting for the reveal with increasing dread. He’d issued an ultimatum. She’d refused to concede. End of story.
A growing pool of red saturated the snow, diluting as it seeped away, turning the crystals pink around the edges. His temporary bandage was already soaked through. He considered a tourniquet then discarded the idea. She’d lose the leg if he cut off the blood supply for too long.
“How are you doing?” he asked, raising his voice over the howling wind.
She offered a weak thumbs-up.
He peeled off his gloves and worked them over her hands. Her feeble attempt to refuse his offering worried him more than anything else.
She was lethargic and her pulse was weak. Early signs of hypothermia.
He reached for his radio, and the line crackled.
“Where’s my backup and that a
mbulance?”
“I’m working on it.” Jeff, the public safety officer who manned the desk at the trooper post, replied. More static sounded. “There’s a truck jackknifed. Traffic’s backed up for half a mile in both directions. It’ll be an hour at least. They’re closing the highway until tomorrow. The chopper won’t go up in this wind.”
The chopper wouldn’t be much use anyway; there were too many trees surrounding Walt’s house. There was no place to land.
Shane swiped the back of his hand over his forehead. “What’s the current avalanche warning for the Da’nai Pass?”
The line crackled. “Chugach National Forest Avalanche Center says the snowpack is unstable. No travel recommended.”
Some days a guy caught all the breaks, and some days he didn’t. “Cancel the backup. With this wind, that snowpack is going to give. Close the exit to the Kodiak Springs Resort for the next twelve hours.”
The service road to the resort T-boned off the highway. Walt’s drive was about a half mile off the exit. After that, the road wound its way nearly five miles to the resort, through an area that passed straight through the Da’nai Valley. The area was a perfect avalanche chute. As often as twice a year, the snowpack broke loose and covered the road. They’d had no fatalities as of yet, and Shane wanted to keep it that way. He already had one body on his hands.
“What’s your plan?” Jeff asked.
“Get a forensics team up here as soon as you can. I’ll try and secure the scene.”
If he took Kara to the resort, he risked being caught on the wrong side of the pass if the snowpack broke loose. If he tried to make it back to town, he risked Kara bleeding out before he reached the medical center. Without knowing the extent of her injuries, he had to err on the side of caution.
A memory tugged at the back of Shane’s brain. The resort catered to the wealthy, and he’d seen a familiar face at the café in town.
He depressed the call button. “There’s a surgeon staying at the hot springs. I’ll take Dr. Riley there. We’ll reassess first thing in the morning.”
“Hot springs...reroute.”
Jeff’s message cut out. Shane muttered beneath his breath. Radio contact was tricky in the mountains in the best of conditions. Sitka pawed at the snow. Shane couldn’t hold the leash and carry Kara. He’d have to trust the dog’s intelligence.
“Time to go back to the kennels,” he said, unhooking the leash.
The dog bounded ahead without a backward glance. Sitka knew the way, all right.
With Kara in his arms, Shane surged to his feet.
He’d have to work quickly. Kara had been shot, Walt was dead and Shane risked being trapped on the wrong side of the pass with a killer on the loose.
* * *
Kara was blissfully numb. At least she was no longer cold. Part of her knew that was bad. She was experiencing the classic signs of hypothermia. The other part of her didn’t care. She only wanted to sleep.
Her head jostled and she opened her eyes. “Shane.”
He’d come for her. She’d never doubted he would. Though they’d ended their relationship on a sour note, she trusted Sergeant Capital T Taylor in an emergency. He was fiercely protective of his town.
The wind whipped over her and snowflakes blurred her vision. Her head was gradually clearing, and the pain roared to life.
She must have made a noise because Shane glanced down. “Are you all right? It’s not much farther to the house.”
“We have to get the dogs.”
“They’re fine. Sitka practically opened the door to the kennels himself. You should be worried about yourself.”
“It’s not too bad.”
“Listen, let’s get you out of this weather, then I can worry about the dogs.”
“I guess.”
His coat made his shoulders look even broader, and his beard had filled in. When she’d arrived during the warmer summer months, he’d been clean-shaven. As winter approached, he’d grown the beard. She liked it.
“The cold helped,” he said, his voice sounding odd. “Doesn’t look like you’ve suffered too much blood loss, but we need to get you medical attention.”
Walt’s house appeared through the blizzard winds, and her eyes burned. “What if you can’t make it back? The puppies can’t be left alone.”
“Then I’ll figure something else out.”
His abrupt dismissal raised her hackles. This was the Shane she’d broken up with—the stubborn, implacable sergeant. She’d known he was a state trooper when he asked her out, but she’d said yes anyway.
At first, she’d thought the invitation was some sort of initiation. Who could date the new girl first? Turned out, he’d been genuinely interested in her. A terrifying realization.
She blamed Sitka for the whole mess. The sled dog had taken an instant liking to him, and Kara always trusted animals over people. Not to mention the fact that Shane’s sky blue uniform with its wide-brimmed hat was a far cry from the uniforms the Anchorage police wore. Even the sight of one of those uniforms on the news brought back disturbing memories.
Because her mom tended to operate on the wrong side of the law, Kara hadn’t had many positive encounters with law enforcement growing up.
Turned out the design of the uniform didn’t matter. Whenever Shane was dressed for duty, she felt nervous and powerless.
Not to mention, dating him was dangerous if she wanted to keep her past hidden. He had an instinct for lies, and he must have sensed something about her didn’t quite add up.
He’d slip into the professional habits she recognized from when the social workers called the police on her mom. Whether it was an argument between her mom and her mom’s current boyfriend, complaints from the neighbors, or yet another drug charge, the police were frequent, unwelcome visitors.
Shane was well-versed in all the techniques. He’d ask her the same question over and over again in different ways. Then he’d come at the question from a different angle. Anything to trip her up in a lie. He couldn’t leave well enough alone.
He’d forewarned her that if she wasn’t willing to contribute more to the relationship—to him—then maybe they shouldn’t be together. She’d called his ultimatum. That was the last time she’d spoken to him before today.
Her chest squeezed. Turned out dogs couldn’t be trusted to pick romantic partners, and the color of the uniform didn’t matter as much as the uniform itself.
They arrived at the truck and Shane set her gently on her feet.
He reached for the door. “I’m taking you to the hot springs. There’s a surgeon there.”
“I don’t need a surgeon. The medical clinic in town is close enough.”
“Highway is closed,” Shane replied. “And we need to move quickly. There’s an avalanche alert.”
To his credit, not a muscle in his jaw twitched. Their last disagreement had been about the road to the hot springs. A generation before, Walt’s family had feuded with Shane’s family over who owned the property where the hot springs were located. Shane’s family eventually won the dispute and promptly started construction of a rustic hotel that eventually morphed into a compact luxury resort and spa.
Furious over the decision, Walt’s family managed to scrape together enough money to buy a parcel of land on the ridge overlooking the hot spring that included the easement needed to build a road. The resort had been forced to reroute access through the treacherous Da’nai Valley, instead.
The feud had been a source of dysfunction in the town for sixty years. Walt’s return to the property had stirred up the bad blood once more, but he wasn’t selling. Walt was a patient and even-tempered man, and an offer from the resort to buy the land had infuriated him. That had been the only time she’d ever seen him angry.
Shane had tried to talk her into speaking with him about allowing the easement, and she’d refuse
d. A teeth-clenching argument had ensued.
Shane leaned over her, reaching toward the steering wheel.
He made a sound of frustration and retracted his hand.
“What’s wrong?”
“Get down,” he ordered harshly. “Someone took the keys.”
The chill in her blood came rushing back. In Alaska, people left their cars running. It was a matter of survival.
Crouching, he reached beneath the fender and pulled out a magnetic key holder. He slid open the lid. The container was empty.
Staying low, Shane circled the truck and scooted into the driver’s seat, then bent over her. “There was no vehicle when I got here, which means the killer must have hidden a snow machine in the woods. That narrows down our search parameters.”
“If he took the keys, he’s still out there.”
“Or he’s slowing us down while he escapes. I should have known better than to leave the keys. It’s a habit.”
“Has anyone ever stolen a police vehicle in Kodiak Springs?”
“Are you kidding? I doubt I could pay someone to steal this thing.”
She met his steady gaze, their faces inches apart. Close enough that she could count his eyelashes one by one if she’d been so inclined. Why was it that men always seemed to get the beautiful eyelashes? And why had such a random thought entered her head during a life-and-death situation? She must be worse off than she thought.
“Maybe he thinks I can identify him,” she said.
“Can you?”
“No.” She considered the past forty minutes. “Something must have tipped him off that I was there. He came back.”
Shane’s hands tightened on her shoulders. “You got away. That’s what matters.”
“What are we going to do now?”
Fear rattled in her chest and her mind blanked. She clung to the tenuous control she’d gained since Shane’s arrival, though a part of her hated it, hated herself for craving his warmth and his safety. She didn’t want to depend on anyone but herself and God for strength.
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