Race Against Time: A Novel

by Kimberley Woodhouse

  My arm jerked as I collided with a man. Something hard pressed against my ribs.

  My back stiffened.

  Gun!

  My head jerked up.

  Orange hat . . .

  Spasms shot throughout my body. I pulled. Yanked. Kicked. Spots danced around me. I wanted to scream but couldn’t. My throat closed. Hard to breathe . . .

  And he was gone.

  His face . . . Eyes, so dark . . .

  My thoughts seemed to swirl. Everything started to go blurry.

  But the note he shoved in my hand felt as heavy as bricks.

  I lifted the paper to read the words. My knees shook, banging into one another . . .

  Tell anyone that you saw me and you’ll never see your mom alive again.

  I shoved the note in my pocket. My fist balled around it.

  No. . . No, no, no!

  The tears came. I could feel the scar from my bullet wound. It screamed at me. As if I had gotten shot again. Had I been? Was I hurt?

  He’d been that close . . . To killing me. Why didn’t he?

  God, help me!

  * * *

  RICK

  January 29

  Fairbanks, Alaska

  1:52 p.m.

  Another great race. Dan would be proud.

  But today . . . today Rick would introduce himself to his niece and her mother. He wasn’t sure how much time he had left. And with all the stress of his job, he needed this. Who cared about the rest? It would all work out in the end.

  As the immediate crowd dispersed around Zoya, he headed in her direction. Anesia spotted him first. She cocked her head at him. And stared.

  The last few steps brought him to her side. “Anesia?”

  “Yes? Do I know you?”

  “No. I’m sorry to say. I’m Rick.”

  “Hello, Rick.” She stuck out a hand in greeting. “Are you here to congratulate Zoya?”

  “I am.”

  She smiled and looked to be searching for her daughter. A proud mother if he ever saw one. Dan told him she was incredible and strong, but he’d never had the chance to see her up close. Breathtaking was a good word. Her brow furrowed as she watched her daughter. Better make this quick.

  “And there’s another reason I’m here.”

  Anesia turned back to face him. “Oh?”

  “You see, I’m Rick Kon’. Dan’s brother.”

  * * *

  SEAN

  1:55 p.m.

  All the well-wishers and small children asking for autographs must have finished up while he loaded the dogs into the truck, because Zoya hurried to her mom and another man. In a split-second Anesia’s face turned to stone, Zoya’s paled.

  Sean quickened his steps to intervene. But before he reached them, Zoya’s eyes rolled back into her head and the small girl collapsed in the snow. A horrible crunch sounded as her head struck something hard beneath the powdery surface.

  “Zoya!” Anesia fell beside her daughter.

  In an instant Sean knelt beside her. Lifting Zoya’s head, he checked for blood. “She’s got quite a lump already, and it’s growing.” His heart pounded. He needed control, but his heart felt the keen attachment to this mother and daughter.

  With deft movements, he and Anesia worked together as he assessed the rest of Zoya’s head. “Zoya, can you hear me?” He touched her face. “Zoya?” Turning to Anesia, he kept his voice calm. She needed that. “At least the swelling is on the outside.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “In a head injury without a laceration, if a lump doesn’t form on the outside, it could mean that it is swelling toward the brain. That wouldn’t be good.”

  Anesia’s eyes met his. The pleading unmistakable. She looked toward the small crowd still over by the judges. “We need some help over here!” Her gaze darted around. “Where’d he go?”

  “Where’d who go?”

  “Rick. The man . . . the man who was just here . . .” She mumbled something under her breath that he couldn’t understand. “It doesn’t matter. We just need to get her to the hospital as soon as possible.”

  “Agreed.”

  A couple paramedics rushed toward them.

  A single tear dripped off the end of Anesia’s nose. Strong, capable, beautiful Anesia. How much had this slight woman endured all these years? And from what he’d learned, she’d done it alone. With tenacity and grace.

  While the paramedics loaded Zoya onto a gurney, he grabbed Anesia’s hand. “I’ll be here for whatever you need.”

  She never tore her gaze from her daughter. But she nodded.

  “Ma’am?” The larger paramedic approached. “Are you riding along?”

  “Yes.”

  The man turned to him. “There won’t be room—”

  “Not a problem. I will follow.” Sean turned to Anesia. “I’ll be there.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulder as they walked to the ambulance.

  A brief turn, and she was in his arms, hugging him with the power of ten men. She jerked away and jumped into the waiting vehicle. But not before he saw more tears streaming down her face.

  Sean ran full-speed toward the truck. Cole and his girls had left moments before as they planned another celebration for Zoya on her journey to the championships. Pulling the cell from his coat pocket as he ran, he speed-dialed Cole.

  It rang once. “Hey, man.”

  “Cole, I need your help. Zoya fell a few minutes ago and hit her head. She’s unconscious with quite a bump. Anesia is in the ambulance with her en route to the hospital.”

  “We’ll meet you there—”

  “Wait, I need you guys to come in two vehicles. I’m driving the dog truck, and since we don’t know how long we’ll be there, it may be advantageous to have another vehicle in case we need to get the dogs back to the kennel at some point.”

  “Good thinking. We’re almost to the house, so we’ll just grab another vehicle and meet you there. I assume they headed to Memorial?”

  “Yes. I thought it was the only one.”

  “Pretty much. We’ll call the prayer chain at church, too.”

  “Thanks.”

  With a snap, he closed the cell phone. His heart hammered in his chest. He’d been afraid of getting attached, but the truth blared at him.

  His heart belonged to the Naltsiine girls.

  * * *

  ZOYA

  January 29

  Fairbanks Memorial Hospital

  5:13 p.m.

  Beeping. Talking. Coughing.

  What was going on?

  I couldn’t open my eyes. They felt as if they’d been superglued shut. Why couldn’t I open them?

  Voices floated around me, lifting the cloud of nothingness.

  “It’s been awhile.”

  “She’ll wake up soon. If not I’ll wake her.”

  “Andie, you need to eat something.” Cole. His voice seemed strained. What was he doing here? Where was I?

  “I can last until she wakes up.”

  “Go on, Andie, I’ll call Jenna if she does.” Mom’s voice. Relief flooded over me. She was alive and well.

  Mom, Andie, and Cole. The voices comforted me, yet brought dread.

  I had to tell them. But I couldn’t. Those men would find and kill Mom if I said anything.

  But what if I didn’t tell anyone about the note? Who else would get hurt? Would I harm more people by not telling?

  Cole could protect Mom. He could get the FBI.

  But would the bad men know? Would they harm her before the FBI got to us?

  Something rustled around me. Blankets?

  I couldn’t open my eyes. Didn’t want to. Anger clung to my heart. It wouldn’t let go. Tears
sprung in my eyes. But they wouldn’t fall. I couldn’t fall back asleep.

  What was wrong with me?

  God, what are You doing? What’s going on? Why are You doing this to me? I wanted to love Him. Wanted to trust Him. Wanted to feel Him there. But I just couldn’t. I couldn’t feel His presence. He wasn’t there. Hadn’t been.

  Had He?

  I was abandoned. Alone.

  Terrified.

  “Don’t trust Him, don’t trust Him, don’t trust Him . . .”

  I couldn’t do this on my own. But there was no one. If God was there, shouldn’t I feel Him? Shouldn’t He reassure me of His presence?

  I waited, letting the tears slip past my still closed eyelids.

  “Zoya?”

  I waited. Nothing came. No comfort. No wisdom. I was at the end of my rope. Fear tightened its grasp. Every ounce of strength left my body as the tears came flooding in.

  Too many things to worry about. It was too much.

  Just let me die!

  I needed to sleep. I needed the rest. But why? I would have to wake up at some point. But the anger would remain. The pain would remain. The fear would remain.

  Would it be there for the rest of my life?

  Yes. I knew it would.

  So why couldn’t I just die?

  There was nothing left for me in this life. People wanted me dead anyway. I couldn’t tell anyone what I had seen. I couldn’t warn anyone about those men.

  I was useless.

  I tried to swallow back all the fear. All the anger. All the contradictory feelings. Nothing helped.

  God, if You’re there, show me! I needed to cry. But I couldn’t. Couldn’t tell Mom. Couldn’t let them kill her.

  Anger sizzled inside.

  Fine. If You’re not going to help me, then I’ll do it myself. I’ll save Mom. And I’ll make sure those murderers get behind bars.

  And have a miserable rest of their lives.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  SLIM

  January 29

  Fairbanks, Alaska

  8:21 p.m.

  He dialed the number and hit speakerphone. His notes sat on the coffee table in front of him. Time to play his hand.

  “Hello, Slim. To what do I owe the pleasure of you interrupting me on a Saturday evening?” A tapping sounded in the background. Like a letter opener beating an impatient rhythm on a wooden surface.

  “Please don’t use your sarcasm and condescension on me, sir.”

  “Well, well. Our young, little helper is offended. My sincerest apologies.”

  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.”