Race Against Time

by kimberly

  Sincerest apologies. Yeah, right. Let’s just see how he responded to the news. “We only have one more chip before the program is complete.”

  “Excellent. The money will be wired to you and I’ll contact the buyer. I expect delivery immediately after the buyer arrives.”

  “Wait just a minute. I think we’ve got a little change in plans.” Make him squirm. Just a little.

  “What do you mean, Slim?” Gone was the cooperative tone of the comment before.

  “I have all the chips.”

  Silence stretched for several seconds. “And?”

  “I also have my own buyer lined up, so the price has just gone up.”

  A harsh laugh echoed through the phone line. “You don’t know how to decode the information, you idiot—”

  “It’s already decoded”—he let that info sink in before he tacked on—“sir.”

  Another long pause. “So you’ve decided to branch out on your own, have you? Well, that’s fine. But you’re going to pay me for what it took to get the program in the first place. I arranged it. I paid for it.”

  “And I hid it for you.”

  “That’s beside the point.”

  “I don’t think so.” The power he now held gave him more confidence. “All of your guys were peons. And they were all under scrutiny. No one had the capability to keep it hidden but me. When you brought me in on this deal, you even told me how brilliant my plan was. That no matter how many guys the feds brought in on this, and no matter how many guys they busted on this, they’d never find the program until we had it all. And you were right. It is brilliant. The feds are so stupid, they’re barkin’ up all the wrong trees.”

  “Why you little—”

  “So to put it simply, sir, I have the program. You don’t. And now I want my cut.”

  * * *

  ANESIA

  January 29

  Naltsiine Kennels

  10:42 p.m.

  It’s okay. She’s going to be okay.

  Breathe. Just breathe.

  Cole, Jenna, and Andie had left. Zoya lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling. Sean made coffee in the kitchen.

  Anesia sat.

  Her knee bounced.

  She could do nothing to erase the events of the day. Once again she’d failed to protect her daughter.

  Who was Rick? Dan never mentioned a brother. And why had Zoya looked so upset right before Rick arrived?

  The questions tumbled around in her brain. This couldn’t be happening. She hated hospitals. Twice in a matter of weeks they’d been there. And not for visiting. How had Jenna managed all these years? Her heart broke into a million pieces every time she saw her daughter lying in a hospital bed.

  Her perfect-ordered and controlled world had collapsed around her. And she was powerless to do anything about it. The reality of the situation hit home.

  Jenna had the special needs child. Not her.

  Jenna could handle this kind of thing. She couldn’t.

  Anesia was better at being the stoic friend. The strong one who held her friend up. Everyone thought she was so strong and stable. But that wasn’t true. She loved Jenna, yes. But she preferred being the friend.

  Not the one to go through the hardships day in and day out.

  Without permission from her, the tears flowed from her eyes. God, why? Why am I so weak?

  Dan had been gone so long, the memories faded over time. Losing her beloved before they married had speared her heart. The ache settled in to stay.

  She hung her head. Just be honest. It wasn’t just his death—his loss—that devastated her. It was also the fact that she suddenly found herself an unmarried pregnant girl with no hope for her future. And when it all came down to it?

  Pride. It stung her pride that everyone knew she’d gotten pregnant out of wedlock.

  It stung her pride that she wouldn’t ever be Dan’s wife. Dan, who’d been on his way to winning every major sprint racing championship. Dan, who’d been so proud to have her on his arm.

  It stung her pride that she’d been left alone. To fend for herself. And her baby. With no money, no name, and no education.

  Just another native Alaskan girl, who blended into the background.

  Zoya turned and looked at her. Really looked at her. Anesia attempted a smile through her tears. But the fear and anger in Zoya’s eyes turned her insides out.

  Get control. Zoya didn’t need to see her blathering. “Hi, sweetie. Do you need anything?”

  “No.” The words were hard. Stiff.

  “Does your head hurt?”

  “A little.”

  “Did you hear the doctor explain everything?”

  “Not really.”

  Wow. What a conversation. But at least she was talking. “You have a concussion. They think you’ll be fine. But they do want me to wake you every hour tonight just to be safe.”

  “Okay.”

  “So I need you to talk to me, when I wake you up, all right?”

  “Okay.” Her daughter went back to staring at the ceiling.

  “Anything you want to talk about?”

  “Not really.” Now her words were lifeless. Dull.

  What was happening to her sweet kid? Had Rick said something to her? Did Zoya know who he was? “Zoya, I love you.”

  Her teen reached out to take her hand. “I love you too, Mom. Always.” Emotion filled Zoya’s eyes until she blinked and the blank stare gained control of her features. The ceiling once again held her attention.

  More tears. Thankfully Sean chose that moment to bring Anesia a cup of coffee.

  “How are you holding up?” His gentle voice soothed the weary places in her heart.

  She smiled up at him. “I’m doing okay.” Brushing away the tears, she stood next to him. “You know, you’re sounding more and more like a relaxed Alaskan every day.”

  “I shall take that as a compliment.” Sean touched Zoya’s shoulder. “How’s my favorite girl?”

  Zoya reached up and held the hand resting on her shoulder. “I’ve been better.”

  Anesia’s heart did a little flip. Wow. A whole three-word sentence. How did he manage that?

  “Well, I hope you’ve been better. If you tried to convince me you were fine right now, I’d take you right back to the hospital and have them examine your head again.” Sean leaned down and placed a kiss on Zoya’s forehead.

  A giggle—if you could even call that miniscule sound one—escaped her daughter’s lips. But she’d take it. Anything. Just to know she wouldn’t disappear down that black hole again.

  Sean’s gaze came back to her. “Anesia, would you like me to stay? It’s quite an undertaking waking every hour. We could take shifts.”

  Her body yearned for her bed. Yet her mother-heart wanted to smack anyone who stood in the way of her taking care of Zoya. It would be good to have an extra set of hands. And to have a little uninterrupted sleep. But no. She couldn’t allow him to do that. She was Zoya’s mom. “I appreciate that, Sean. I really do. But I think Zoya would be more comfortable if I were the one to wake her.”

  Sean nodded.

  “Mom?” Zoya’s voice squeaked. “Can Sean stay?”

  Anesia raised her eyebrows and looked at her daughter. Words tripped over each other in her mind. Was her daughter afraid? “Sure, honey. If you would feel more comfortable.”

  “I would.” She closed her eyes.

  Anesia tore her gaze from her daughter and glanced at Sean. “The guest bedroom is down the hall, Sean. Do you mind staying?”

  “Not at all. After all, I did offer.”

  “Thank you. I still think I’ll stay in here to wake her each hour, but it’s comforting to know you’re here.”

  Expressive green eyes held hers. This man was such a mystery. The silence stretched as she couldn’t look away.

  “Well, I think I will turn in. But don’t hesitate to let me know if you need me.” Sean turned and headed down the hall.

  Butterflies danced around in her st
omach as she watched him walk away. Exhaustion must be making her delirious. Yeah, that was it.

  Pure exhaustion.

  * * *

  RICK

  January 29

  Hotel North Pole

  11:04 p.m.

  Well, that didn’t go well.

  He’d spent all evening chewing on what he said to Anesia, reflecting on what he could’ve done differently. Rick even sent a man to the hospital and found out Zoya was okay, but it didn’t ease his conscience.

  Would he anger the spirits more if he didn’t fulfill the promise he’d made to Dan? The ancient tribal elder he’d gone to for advice had given him more doubts and superstition. But the answers weren’t easy to come by. The fear in his gut grew. As a young boy, he’d thrown off the teaching of his father in a fit of rebellion. Didn’t think it mattered. And then odd things kept happening. Bad things. That Dan received warnings for.

  Then Dan died.

  It all had to be true. That meant the fault lay at his feet.

  The ringing of his phone made him jump. He glanced at the caller ID. Great. Just what he needed.

  “Yeah?”

  “It’s time to get rid of the girl.”

  Not now. Please. “What are you talking about? I thought we agreed—”

  “Kon’, shut up. She’s the only one who can help the FBI discover my identity. And that’s not gonna happen. She’s the only one who saw my men. We’ve worked too long and too hard to let some little brat ruin everything by opening her mouth. I’ve got a plan in motion for tomorrow. Your job is to make sure it gets done.”

  “But—she doesn’t know anything, she just witnessed the shooting. It will only draw more attention—”

  “I don’t care! I don’t know what your problem is, but you work for me. I’ve dealt with enough imbeciles. Do your job.”

  Rick couldn’t catch his breath. The pain in his chest intensified. He knew the implication. The boss had gotten rid of everyone but the shooter. And he’d only let him live because he needed him. At least for a little while.

  “Understood?”

  “Sir.” The one word was all he could get out.

  Click.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  ANESIA

  January 30

  4:00 a.m.

  The BlackBerry beeped and vibrated. Anesia opened her eyes and reset the alarm for the next hour. Four a.m. wasn’t pretty on any day as far as she was concerned, but especially not today. Muscles ached all over her body as she stood and stretched. Shuffling over to Zoya, she ran a few fingers through her hair. What a sight she must be.

  “Zoya, honey, wake up and talk to me.”

  “Ugh.” The word wasn’t much more than a moan. More groaning followed.

  She poked her daughter.

  “I’m awake, I’m awake.” Zoya glanced at the clock. “It’s four in the morning, and you’re standing over me. Your hair’s a mess, and I’m coherent. See?”

  Anesia laughed. So far so good. Zoya seemed fine. She talked more in the middle of the night than before.

  “Can I go back to sleep now?”

  “Yes.” She bent to kiss her daughter on the top of her head.

  “Love you, Mom.”

  “Love you, too.”

  Covers shifted and moved, a fist hit the pillow, fluffed it, and Zoya shifted into a position only a teenager could find comfortable.

  Darkness surrounded her, but the nightlight from the hallway illuminated half of her daughter’s face. What a precious gift this child would always be.

  Anesia had endured ridicule and gossip for so many years. All those “good” Christians who looked down their noses at her for the sin she committed. She’d known right from wrong. But she’d loved Dan so very much. They’d planned to marry after the baby was born, but Dan died in the middle of her pregnancy. Shame surrounded her like a cloak as grief choked her almost to the point of death.

  But then Jenna wrapped her arms around her in love. She defended Anesia. Gave the gossiping old biddies what-for when they started their destructive missions time and again. And Jenna showed Anesia God’s love through it all.

  Yes, God did a wonderful thing through her mistakes. She shook her head. Anesia would never think of her daughter as a mistake. Zoya blessed her every day. That blessing was from God. Her mind hummed the tune to the doxology. Praise God from Whom all blessings flow . . . That’s right. He took her shattered and disappointing life and molded it into something beautiful. It took Dan’s death to get her attention. And it made her stronger.

  A verse from James stuck out in her mind, Every good and perfect gift is from above . . .

  She looked at her daughter again. Yes, God had given her so much.

  God who loved her more than anyone ever had. God who forgave her and accepted her and gave her a fresh start each morning. God who turned her sorrow into joy.

  The God of heaven and earth.

  Feet shuffled down the hall. Anesia gasped—then remembered.

  Sean.

  He appeared in the dim light, blond hair all spiked around his head. “Anesia, are you doing okay? Need anything?” His words a hushed whisper.

  What a heart. She’d never met anyone like him. Dare she risk it? “I could use a little company for a while, if you’re up for it.”

  He shuffled the rest of the way into the room and sat on the floor. “Do you need talking company or silent company?”

  His thoughtfulness made her chuckle. “Talking would be good.”

  “All right. What do you want to talk about?”

  She sat on the floor next to him, peering at her daughter on the couch. What would get her mind off all the horrific events of late? “What are your dreams, Sean?”

  He rubbed his eyes like a little boy then leaned back on his hands, his long legs stretched out in front of him. “Well, to tell you the truth, I wouldn’t have been able to answer that question a few weeks ago. Other than starting over, I didn’t have a clue.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “But now, and please don’t misconstrue this as the proverbial kissing up, I believe you’ve given me a dream. I love this kennel. Love the dogs. Love the racing. Love . . .”

  His words were filled with such passion. Passion that matched hers.

  Back to the topic. Focus. “Go on . . . love what?”

  He shifted his weight to one hand and scratched his forehead with the other. “Oh, just about everything around here. That’s basically what I was saying.”

  She’d made him uncomfortable. Oops. “Well, I have to say, that makes me happy. We like having you around.” Don’t do it. Don’t say anymore. Glue those lips shut.

  “Thank you.”

  “And I’ve got to tell you, you fascinate me.”

  Really? Was she dreaming? Or was her tongue betraying her?

  “Your history, your education, your travels. Even though you don’t think you were you during all those years, I do believe that all of it shaped you into who you are now.”

  He took a slow, deep breath and pulled his knees up. “That’s a valid point. And in my quest to leave the past behind, I’ve forgotten that important piece. Thank you for reminding me.”

  “You’re welcome.” Now zip it. Don’t say anything else.

  “What are your dreams, Anesia?”

  Too late. It was like she’d taken some evil truth serum. She couldn’t stop the words from oozing out if she tried. “That’s an easy question. I want to be the very best mom on the planet. I want to see Zoya grow up into a strong, God-loving, God-fearing woman. And of course I want to be known around the globe for the very best racing dogs. And it wouldn’t hurt if I could win the championship every year.”

  He nodded. The lines in his forehead portraying that he took her words to heart, mulled them over. “Those are all awesome things. But it sounds a little lonely. What about love?”

  * * *

  SEAN

  4:13 a.m.

  He did not just ask that.

  Idiot. Just tell he
r she’s pathetic next time.

  The most spectacular woman he’d ever known, and he had to open his big mouth.

  Then insert his foot.

  It would probably take surgery to undo the damage.

  Brain transplant surgery.

  She’d fire him for sure. But he loved his job. Working at the dog kennel made him feel alive. He needed to beg her for forgiveness.

  His horror must’ve been visible on his face, because Anesia just stared at him. Then she laughed. “Don’t look so upset, Sean. You’re right.”

  “I’m sorry. I had no place to say any of that. Maybe I should return to bed now.”

  “Oh, stop. I’m not mad at you. Just shocked that you were bold enough to be blunt with me. To be quite honest, it’s been a sore subject for me, and poor Jenna has had to avoid it like the plague for fear I’ll bite her head off.”

  “I’m still sorry. Maybe I should rephrase—”

  “Nonsense. It’s an honest question.” Her gaze met his. Held it. “And it deserves an honest answer.”

  * * *

  COLE

  January 30

  Tikaani-Gray-Maddox Home

  4:15 a.m.

  His phone vibrated and buzzed itself toward the edge of his nightstand. Cole caught the phone just as it plunged off the side. He propped himself up on the bed with one arm and answered the call. “Maddox.”

  “Cole, sorry to call so early, but I need to ask you some questions.”

  He lay back. The FBI wouldn’t be calling unless it was urgent. “Go ahead.”

  “How well do you know Anesia Naltsiine?”

  Anesia? What kind of harebrained idea were they following this time? “I know her well. I’d trust that woman with my life.”

  “Cole, we know that you have close ties with her, but we need you to be unbiased.”

  “My answer remains the same.” His jaw began to ache from clenching it.

  “All right. But we’re getting some interesting info.”

  “Just spit it out.”

  “We’ve been tracking a guy named Rick Kon’. Turns out he’s the brother of a certain Dan Kon’. Recognize the name?”