Her Mistletoe Protector

by Laura Scott

  A loud noise, like a tree branch snapping in two, made her jump, and she instinctively reached out to grab Joey’s hand. “Stay with me,” she whispered, drawing him close.

  “Rachel, take Joey and this stuff back to the cabin,” Nick said in a low voice.

  A shiver snaked down her spine and she glanced around warily. They were surrounded by trees, which wasn’t reassuring, since she couldn’t see much in the darkness. She took the computer case from him and slung it over her shoulder. She held the first-aid kit tight to her chest. Despite being irked with Nick earlier, she was loath to leave him now. “Come with us,” she urged softly.

  “Could be nothing more than a deer or some other animal,” he assured her. “Go inside and lock the door. I’m going to take a look around.”

  Nick was armed and could probably take care of himself, yet it was still difficult to leave him alone. But now that she had her son back, she wasn’t about to risk losing him again, so she gave a jerky nod.

  “Come on, Joey,” she whispered, shielding him as best as she could as they quickly ran in the direction of the cabin. Even after getting safely inside, she couldn’t relax. She secured the dead bolt lock into place, set down the laptop and the first-aid kit on the rough-hewn kitchen table and then doused the lights. She hoped the darkness would shield them from anyone watching from outside, although there wasn’t much she could do about the yellow glow of the fire.

  “I thought the bad man was gone?” Joey asked fearfully.

  “He is gone,” she said, trying to smile. “You heard what Nick said—I’m sure the noise was probably from a deer. Nick is being extra careful because he’s a police detective and that’s what policemen do. Come sit on the sofa in front of the fire with me.”

  Joey went over to the sofa and she desperately searched for something to use as a weapon. A kitchen knife would only work if the thug came in close, so she bypassed that option. Her gaze fell on the trio of fireplace instruments Nick had used earlier to help start the fire. The poker was long, made of cast iron and was pointy on the end. Since the poker gave her the best chance to protect herself and Joey, she carried the stand of fireplace instruments to the right side of the sofa and set the poker so that it was well within reach, before she snuggled in next to her son.

  “I’m scared,” Joey whimpered beside her.

  Her heart squeezed in her chest. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, sweetie, and neither will Nick,” she said. “You’re not alone anymore. We’re safe here inside the cabin with Nick protecting us.”

  He responded by burying his face against her arm, clinging tight. She hugged him close, a wave of helpless despair washing over her. How much more could the poor kid take? He’d already been through so much. More than any child should have to bear.

  She’d thought that getting Joey back would solve all her problems, but she was wrong. Because they were here, cowering in the darkness of the cabin, fearing the worst.

  Nick was right—they needed to keep investigating in order to find the person who’d set up the kidnapping. Because they wouldn’t be safe until they knew the truth.

  Tense with fear and worry, she stared at the front door of the cabin, hoping and praying Nick would return soon.

  * * *

  Nick melted into the trees, moving slowly and carefully, the way Uncle Wally had taught him all those years ago. He hadn’t liked hunting deer the way Uncle Wally had, but he’d learned enough from his uncle to move quietly through the woods. He held his gun ready, in case he stumbled across a man or wild beast.

  White-tailed deer tended to feed in the early morning or early evening, so there was a good possibility that a buck or a doe moving through the woods had made the noise. There weren’t bears in the area, at least not that he knew about. The snapped branch had seemed too loud for a small animal like a raccoon or a skunk, although possums could grow to a fairly good size. Maybe one had fallen out of a tree?

  Nick was sure he hadn’t been followed on the ride up to the cabin, so he found it hard to believe the kidnapper could have found them. Even if the kidnapper had the brains and the means to track him here, it would take a lot of expert digging to connect the cabin to him.

  He made a slow, wide circle around the cabin. He didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, no signs of anyone lurking around. He came across a deer bed about twenty yards behind the cabin, which made him relax. Deer were close by, so it was likely that’s what they’d heard.

  There was a small structure back there, too, and he moved forward cautiously. When he got closer, he wrinkled his nose at the smell, realizing this was the old outhouse that Uncle Wally had used before installing the well and the small but functional bathroom. He opened the door and flashed his small penlight inside, to make sure it was indeed empty. Then he made his way back around to the front of the cabin.

  The lights were off inside, although he could see the flickering flames from the fireplace. He stood on the porch for another few minutes, straining to listen. When he didn’t hear anything, he tapped lightly on the door. “Rachel? Open up, it’s me, Nick.”

  After a few minutes, he heard her disengage the lock and open the door. “Did you find anything?” she asked.

  “Just a deer bed in back of the cabin,” he said cheerfully. He closed the door and relocked it. “Not only does that prove that deer are close by, but also that they’ve felt safe enough to make a bed here.”

  Rachel’s smile was strained as she nodded and glanced over at her son, who was burrowed into a corner of the sofa. “Did you hear that, Joey? There’s a deer bed behind the cabin.”

  “What kind of bed?” Joey asked, a puzzled frown furrowing his brow.

  “Deer like to sleep in tall grass. Not only is the grass soft, but it also keeps the deer hidden during the day. In the early-evening hours they get up and move through the trees, looking for something to eat.”

  “What do they eat?” Joey asked.

  “Speaking of eating, how about I heat up our supper?” Rachel suggested, heading over to the kitchen area.

  He crossed over to sit beside Joey. “White-tailed deer are vegetarian, meaning they eat grass, leaves and berries. In the winter, when there aren’t as many leaves, they eat the bark off the trees.” He remembered his uncle Wally explaining that culling the herd of deer by hunting them in season was better than letting them starve to death. Logically he agreed, but that didn’t make it any easier to kill the beautiful, graceful animals.

  Joey continued to ask questions and he patiently answered them, figuring that the more they talked, the more the child would be able to relax and feel safe.

  “Dinner’s ready,” Rachel called a few minutes later. Joey crawled out from his spot on the sofa to cross over to the kitchen table. Nick threw another log on the fire and then joined them.

  He clasped his hands together and bowed his head. “Heavenly Father, we thank You for providing us food and shelter tonight, and we ask that You continue to watch over us, keeping us safe from harm. Amen.”

  “Amen,” Rachel echoed.

  After a brief moment, Joey, too, said, “Amen.”

  Nick lifted his head and smiled at them both. “Thanks for praying with me. And this looks great, Rachel, I appreciate you cooking dinner.”

  “All I did was heat up the beef stew in a pot on the electric burner,” she protested. “I don’t think that counts as cooking.”

  “It does in my book,” he said. The hearty beef stew hit the spot and Rachel and Joey must have been hungry too, because between the three of them, they finished every bite.

  “I’ll clean up,” he said, carrying his and Joey’s empty bowls over to the sink.

  Rachel looked as if she might protest but then must have decided to take the opportunity to spend time with her son. He heard them exploring the cabin, although since it wasn’t
very big, it didn’t take them long. Rachel brought a quilt with her from the back bedroom and covered them with it as they sat on the sofa, staring into the fire.

  Seeing Rachel snuggled up next to Joey filled him with bittersweet longing. If he were alone, he’d probably think about Becky, but right now, he found himself captivated by the way the light from the fire flickered over Rachel’s hair.

  Washing the dishes didn’t take long, and when he finished he pulled out the computer and tried to find the wireless signal that he’d used the last time he was here. Sure enough, the signal was weak but available, as it still wasn’t password protected.

  He searched for information on Dr. Karl Errol since he still thought that Josie Gardner’s suicide wasn’t just a coincidence. He soon discovered that Dr. Karl Errol had attended Johns Hopkins to earn his doctorate and had worked for a large international pharmaceutical company before coming to work for Rachel.

  Sitting back in the chair, he tried to figure out why a highly respected research scientist from Johns Hopkins had left a large pharmaceutical corporation to work for Simon Inc.

  “Joey’s asleep,” Rachel said, interrupting his thoughts. She came over to the table, pulled up a chair next to him and sat down. “You should let me take a look at your arm.”

  Nick grimaced and then nodded reluctantly. He worked his arm out of the sweatshirt sleeve while she jumped up and heated up water on the two-burner stove.

  The angle was too awkward for him to see the extent of the injury and he was glad it didn’t throb as much as it had at first. Rachel came over with the first-aid kit they’d brought in from the car, along with a small pan of hot water.

  “This might hurt,” she warned as she picked up a soft cloth and began cleaning the wound.

  He didn’t say anything, too distracted by her nearness as she fussed over him. He couldn’t help remembering the kiss they’d shared and wondered if she’d let him kiss her again. Soon.

  “Almost finished,” she murmured, and he blinked, realizing she was putting antibiotic ointment over the flesh wound before wrapping it with gauze.

  “Thanks,” he murmured huskily. When she turned away to take the water back over to the sink, he carefully put his arm back into the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

  Once she’d finished cleaning everything up, she came back to the table. It took all his willpower to turn his attention to the investigation at hand. “Tell me about Dr. Karl Errol. How long has he worked for you?”

  Rachel frowned. “He’s been working for me for about three years now,” she said slowly.

  “How did you come to hire him? Did he apply for a job? Or did you purposefully recruit him away from his other company?”

  “Neither. Josie Gardner is actually the one who recommended him for the job. She apparently met him at a research convention and talked about some of the work we were doing. He was very interested and Josie convinced me to make him an offer. To be honest, I was surprised when he actually accepted it.”

  “Why do you think he did? Accept the job, I mean?”

  Rachel shrugged. “During our interview, he mentioned that he liked the way I put so much time and effort into research and development for new medications. He claimed that his old company had gone stagnant and that he was looking for change.”

  Nick hesitated, knowing that she wasn’t going to like his next question. “Could it be that he was searching for a place where no one was constantly looking over his shoulder? Because maybe he liked to cut corners? What if the problem with your new diabetes medication happened in the first place because he hid something important?”

  “No way... Josie would have been all over that,” she said.

  “Maybe that’s why she committed suicide.”

  She stared at him for a long moment. “It’s possible, but why would Karl do something like that in the first place? Why bring forward a medication that has life-threatening side effects?” She blew out a breath. “Don’t you see? There’s no logical reason why anyone, especially a well-respected researcher, would risk ruining their reputation and their career by doing something so crazy.”

  He hated to admit she had a point. What could the motivation be? He shifted several scenarios through his mind. “What if he’s doing it on purpose to sabotage your company?” he mused.

  Rachel closed her eyes and rubbed them. “Again, Nick, for what purpose? What’s the link between this and Joey’s kidnapping? I keep telling you that none of this makes any sense. The only logical explanation is that someone within the Mafia needed cash and orchestrated Joey’s kidnapping to get it.” She sighed impatiently. “Sabotaging the company would only make it more difficult to come up with the money. Whatever is going on within the company probably isn’t connected.”

  He understood why she chose to believe the Mafia was behind the kidnapping. For one thing, the threatening letters did seem to point to the crime syndicate. But what if someone inside her company had sent them, pretending to be with the Mafia? He thought she had blinders on when it came to thinking anything bad about the people who worked for her.

  “Rachel, hear me out for a minute, okay?” he said, leaning in toward her. “You said the lawsuit was filed last year and that you have already offered a generous settlement, right?”

  “Yes, that’s correct.”

  “Was your settlement accepted?”

  She flushed and shook her head. “Not yet.”

  Interesting. “What if that was essentially the start of this mess? What if all of this—the failed medication, the lawsuit and now the kidnapping were just ways to put you out of business?”

  “Who would want to put me out of business?”

  “You tell me,” he countered. “Which company is your biggest competition?”

  “Global Pharmaceuticals,” she answered automatically.

  Global Pharmaceuticals. The same company where Karl Errol used to work. “That’s it! The link we’ve been looking for. Don’t you think it’s possible that Karl Errol, who used to work for Global Pharmaceuticals, is actually doing corporate espionage for them? That he’s sabotaging your company on purpose?”

  The dawning horror in her eyes made him feel bad for shattering her trust, but, at the same time, he firmly believed they were finally onto something.

  Now, all he needed was a way to prove it.

  ELEVEN

  Rachel didn’t want to believe Nick’s theory, but she couldn’t deny that his idea had merit. “Seems odd that Global would go to such drastic lengths to put me under,” she said softly. “But, okay, let’s say they did convince Karl to sabotage my company. And that the failed diabetes medication was part of the master plan. How does kidnapping Joey fit into the picture? Removing me as the CEO isn’t going to put the company under. Gerry Ashton has been working for the company over the past seventeen years and he’s perfectly capable of running the company without me.”

  “Isn’t there anything about your management styles that could make the difference between success and failure?” Nick pressed.

  Rachel clenched her teeth in frustration. She didn’t understand why he remained so focused on someone working against her from inside the company rather than the Mafia link.

  Although now that Morales was dead, she was forced to admit they might never know for sure who was behind the kidnapping.

  “The only difference between Gerry and me is that I take more risks in research and development,” she said. “Gerry tends to be more conservative.”

  “That’s all? Nothing else?” Nick appeared disappointed by her response.

  “The only other thing we disagreed about was settling the lawsuit,” she admitted. She still remembered the heated argument they’d had. Gerry had pushed so hard she had been forced to take the issue to the board of directors. “He wanted to continue to fight, but I managed to convince
the board that settling right away would be better for us in the long run. And there’s still hope that the lawsuit will be settled soon.”

  “How long has Ashton worked for you?” he probed.

  “I’ve only been in charge as the CEO for the past three years, since my father died. Gerry was a VP colleague during the years my father was in charge.” Before he could ask another question, she quickly changed the subject. “I need to talk to you about Joey.”

  Nick’s eyebrows lifted. “What about him?”

  She took a deep breath and released it slowly, trying to figure out a way to articulate her concern without hurting his feelings. “Joey is at a vulnerable age, and I think it’s clear he’s looking for a father figure. I’ve noticed he’s been following you around, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t encourage him. Please try to keep your distance.”

  He stared at her for a long moment. “I haven’t encouraged him on purpose,” he finally said. “Besides, I’m not sure I understand what your problem is. Showing your son how to build a fire and how to prime a well isn’t a big deal.”

  “Maybe not, but can’t you see that I don’t want him to rely on you too much? Once this is over...” She trailed off, unable or maybe unwilling to put her deepest fears into words. “I just don’t want him hurt,” she repeated lamely.

  “I’m sorry you feel that way, Rachel,” Nick said with a frown. “I was hoping that Joey and I could hang out once in a while, even after this is over.”

  Her jaw dropped in surprise. It had never occurred to her that Nick would want to continue to see her son. And, for some reason, she found the idea disconcerting. “Well, uh, I guess I’ll think about it,” she said, unable to come up with a good reason for refusing him outright.

  Nick’s intense gaze bored into hers and she squirmed in her seat, feeling as if he was seeing right through her. She couldn’t explain why the two of them forging a relationship after this was over bothered her so much, but it did. She glanced at her sleeping son and rose to her feet. “I’m going to take Joey to the back bedroom.”