Where could she go? What could she do? As Brigham kept making his way toward her, grimacing slightly as the snow was surely seeping into his shoes, one more man came out the patio door and another man was making his way around the side of the house.
She had to run and pray help would come. Turning, she headed back up the packed trail, moving faster than she ever had in the snowshoes but wondering if she should drop the poles and kick off the snowshoes. She could run faster without them, unless the trail wasn’t as well packed as she thought.
“Stop!” Brigham screamed from behind her. “Go get her!” he yelled to his men.
Hazel didn’t listen. She semi-ran in the snowshoes, trying to increase her speed, but it was hard in the awkward shoes. She was going faster than she had on her original ascent a couple of hours ago, but she feared it wasn’t fast enough. She could hear the men’s shouts and footfalls behind her. There was nowhere to escape, and there were at least three terrifying men after her. She prayed they were all in dress shoes like Brigham and sinking in with each step. She was moving too fast to peek over her shoulder without tripping herself on the bigger snowshoes.
Her heart pounded so fast that she couldn’t catch a breath, and terror threatened to incapacitate her, but she couldn’t stop. She’d push herself to a heart attack before she’d let Brigham catch her.
Chapter Eighteen
Heath was having a great day with his family. Austin was hilarious and had them all giggling. Trey and Ella were much too in love and fun to tease. Stetson was funny, and Cassie was a sweetheart. Mama was beaming, and even Gavin seemed in good spirits.
They’d been shopping for hours, then had a fabulous lunch at the Menya Noodle Bar. Austin had protested about going to a “big people” restaurant, but even he’d liked his spicy ramen. Now they were strapping on ice skates at Skyline Park. Heath tried to make himself believe he wasn’t spending every other minute thinking about Hazel and what she might be doing. He wasn’t chafing to be back at Gavin’s house, sneaking into her bedroom, and telling her it wasn’t false hope for them to be together, because he would do everything in his power to beat Brigham. He tried to focus on enjoying the family experience and not imagine himself back in the house with Hazel.
Heath sighed. He could lie to them all, but he couldn’t lie to himself. He honestly felt like he was being ripped in two pieces. He loved his family and wanted to savor each moment with them, but Hazel needed him right now, and truth be told, he needed her too.
He was sailing across the ice, racing Stetson and Austin, when his phone rang in his pocket. Digging his skates in to stop, he sprayed ice crystals on a young family.
“Hey!” the dad protested.
“Sorry.” Heath pushed away toward the wall and yanked his phone out. Jed. “Hey,” he answered quickly.
“Are you with Hazel?” Jed demanded.
“No.”
“I’m not being coy, Heath. I need the truth. Now.”
He felt a chill race down his spine. What was going on? “She’s alone at … a safe place.”
“Get to her. Now.”
“What? Why?” He skated toward the sidelines, his heart roaring in his ears.
Jed’s voice was too intense. “Jamison woke up and identified Brigham as the person who pushed him.”
“Well, that’s great news. Fabulous news.” Heath’s shoulders relaxed. He’d feared for a few seconds that Jed was going to claim Brigham knew where to find her.
He hurried toward the desk to retrieve his shoes. His heart lifted, and he thought Jed had just given him the best Christmas present ever. Brigham would be arrested. Hazel would be free. He nodded his thanks for his shoes and sat down on a nearby bench, ripping his laces out in his hurry to get his skates off and get to Hazel. Now his family could meet her. They could officially date. They could have Christmas together.
“Heath!” Jed’s sharp voice cut through his excitement.
“What?”
“Brigham’s gone. One of his jets is gone. He didn’t do a flight manifesto. We don’t know where he is.”
That was decidedly not fabulous news. He’d really looked forward to Brigham getting his due. Heath finally got the skates off and jammed his feet into his shoes. “You think he’s fleeing the country?”
“I actually hope so.”
“What? Why?” Heath held the phone to his ear as he hurried back toward the rink, flagging Trey and Ella down. Luckily, they’d had to drive two cars, and Gavin’s sport utility could seat seven. If he could get Trey’s keys, he could return to Hazel in an hour and a half. He could already imagine her flinging herself into his arms in excitement, relief, happiness, and gratitude.
“What if he’s coming after Hazel?”
Horror raced through Heath as he stood at the edge of the ice rink.
Trey skated up. “Hey. You need something?”
“Keys,” he said through his suddenly dry throat. “Can I take your Pathfinder? I have to get home quick.”
“Sure.” Trey fished his keys out.
Mama was skating with Austin and Gavin across the rink. She glanced his way.
“Tell Mama I’m sorry.” Heath turned and ran for the parking lot, not catching Trey’s answer.
“I’m on my way to you,” Jed said, “But I’m trying to catch a commercial flight into Denver.”
“Where are you? Go to my hangar in Park City. I’ll have my pilot meet you there. He’ll fly you to Vail.”
“Okay.”
Heath clicked the unlock button and about ripped the door off the Pathfinder. He climbed in and pushed the brake and the start button, tossing the keys in the cup holder. “Do you really think …”
“I don’t know.” Jed’s voice was heavy. “He thinks he’s above the law; we both know that.”
“Sadly, he has been above the law,” Heath ground out as he spun out of the parking stall and then jammed it into drive. He was an hour and a half away. Could Brigham get to Hazel first? “How long’s he been gone?”
“I don’t know. Jamison came out of the coma late this morning. I’ve been afraid Brigham would somehow off him, just like you said, so I’ve had trusted men guarding his hospital room. By the time he was coherent and able to make a statement, it was almost lunchtime. Brigham had disappeared when we got to his house twenty minutes ago. I talked to the airport security, and now I’m calling you.”
Heath glanced at the clock on the dash. One-thirteen. “So maybe he’s only been gone a few hours?” It was a quick flight from Park City to Vail, but then he’d have to get a car and drive to the valley.
“Airport security cameras show him driving into the airport about nine a.m. and flying out shortly after.”
“But they won’t tell you where he’s gone?” Heath chafed at the traffic getting out of downtown. He needed to be flying.
“Apparently they didn’t get that information. I’m betting on a bribe.”
“You really think he’d risk coming after Hazel instead of just escaping?”
“Jamison said Brigham really wants Hazel for himself, and two of my men went directly to Brigham’s house when Jamison identified him. They’ve been speaking with the guests and all getting the same picture. They said he’s been obsessive about her these past few days. They thought initially it was because she’d hurt Jamison, but they all said it was creepy the way he couldn’t stop talking about her and Googling her.”
Ice slid down Heath’s spine. He turned up the heat and headed north on I-25.
“And there’s one other thing. Apparently, someone called a tip in this morning from Gavin’s resort and claimed they’d seen Hazel at Gavin’s house. A housekeeper. It’d been bugging her all night, and then she found Hazel’s picture on the FBI wanted site. I would’ve called you earlier, but I just got word of that from the FBI, and I’ve been waiting at Jamison’s bedside, hoping to get him to talk.”
The housekeepers. No. Heath fought to think straight, heading west on I-70 and finally picking up some speed,
dodging around slower cars. “So Brigham might’ve gotten a tip of where she is and could’ve already been heading our way? And the fact that Jamison woke up is going to make him more desperate.”
“I hope not, but maybe. I’m almost to the airport.”
“Oh, shoot. Let me call my pilot.” He hung up and asked Siri to dial Gary Mann. Thankfully, Gary answered and was up for a quick flight to Vail. Heath’s mind was a scrambled mess as he made the plans. Brigham could have already reached Hazel.
They had security gates at the mouth of his family’s cabin, but it wasn’t serious security; it was to give their family some privacy. It would mean nothing to a criminal like Brigham. He asked Siri to call Jed. “The pilot’s on his way,” he said by way of greeting.
“Okay. I’ve contacted your local police. They’re heading to Gavin’s house to check on Hazel until you and I get there.”
“Thank you.” That was at least something. “Was Brigham alone?”
“Cameras only showed his driver, the pilot, and one other man.”
“But knowing Brigham, all of them could be well-trained and ready to help kidnap Hazel.” Kidnap Hazel. He could not let Brigham take her.
“Is there a phone at the house to warn her?”
“Gavin just uses his cell. Papa’s the only one around, and …” It would be hard for Papa to help from a wheelchair, and Heath couldn’t live with himself if something happened to him. “I’ll have Gavin send some men over he trusts.”
“No. Not if there’s a chance Brigham is there with his men. You’d be putting them in danger that they didn’t sign up for. Let the police handle it.”
Heath didn’t know what to do or where to turn. He said a prayer in his head, but it didn’t feel like enough. Hazel was in trouble. He could feel it. And he was still well over an hour away.
Hazel had been stomping her way up the trail for so long that her legs ached with exhaustion and her heart was still hammering out of control, but at least the men hadn’t caught her yet. She was in good shape, but this was her second time up this route and these were muscles she’d never developed. She’d just reached the lake. She knew the trail beyond the lake was going to get harder; only the new trail she’d broken an hour ago was tamped down at all. As long as she was the only one with snowshoes, she would have the advantage on unblemished snow. Better to be lost and freeze to death in the mountains than to get caught by Brigham. The only good news was that it was winter, so bears had to be in hibernation, and if Jamison really was awake, her name could be cleared. Fat lot of good that would do her dead.
She paused to pull in some quick breaths and look over her shoulder, then hurried around the lake. She was going to keep moving until she passed out or her legs gave out.
Loud footsteps thudded behind her, and a man’s voice said, “Hazel. Wait. Nobody’s going to hurt you.”
Like she believed that. Who was this guy, and how had he moved that fast? The trail had been trampled down pretty good and it hadn’t snowed since she’d been here, so maybe her snowshoes weren’t giving her as much advantage as she’d hoped. Shoot. But if she could get around the lake and into the trees, she would definitely be able to pull ahead. She just had no clue how she’d keep going much longer. Her tired legs were only moving because she kept forcing them to take step after step.
A man burst out of the trees behind her, and she screamed. Terror raced through her as she pumped her legs toward the trail on the far side of the lake that she’d broken this morning. The man was now sprinting for her along the packed trail that she, and who knew how many other Strong family members, had made. She didn’t dare glance over her shoulder and risk tripping in the snowshoes.
Moving as fast as she could, she pulled in quick gasps of air and focused on getting around the lake. Her camera bumped against her chest as she tried to run. Fifty more feet and she’d be safely into the thicker snow. That would slow him down. It had to.
She could hear his footsteps gaining on her. No! Her legs were thrashed, barely able to support her, and her heart had been pumping so fast for so long that she was starting to see black spots on the edge of her vision.
Ignoring the pain and the very real possibility of passing out, she clomped her way forward, faster, faster. That man couldn’t catch her, or she was as good as dead.
His footsteps grew louder and closer. She could hear how heavily he was breathing, almost as heavily as her. He was tired; maybe he’d slow down. Yet he seemed like an ultra-athlete, as she could sense the distance between them shrinking. It was only ten feet away now. The trees were thick and offered blessed shelter. She could see the trail that she’d broken earlier. If she made it there, he’d start sinking in the snow. She’d have a chance.
Please help me, Lord, she prayed as she pushed herself forward. The snowshoes felt like concrete blocks on her feet, and her thighs burned so horribly she could hardly force them to do one more step. Please help me!
The trail. She was almost there. The man close enough that his steps were thundering in her ears as loud as her heartbeat, and his breath was louder and louder.
She broke into the trees and almost cried with relief. Her first step was harder than the packed trail had been, and she relied on the poles more, but at least she didn’t sink like the man surely would. Her legs were trembling with exhaustion as she placed another step deeper into the forest, away from her pursuer. Please, please.
The man launched himself at her. Hazel heard him grunt as he flew through the air. She turned to try to avoid him hitting her. He knocked into her shoulder, and she went down in a puff of snow. The impact was surprisingly soft with all the snow underneath her, but the man driving into her body wasn’t soft. He lay on top of her, pressing her down into the snow.
Hazel pulled in quick breaths, trying not to hyperventilate, her mind scrambling for any kind of escape. The man’s ragged breath rattled in her ears, and his sweaty, large frame on top of her made her feel like she was suffocating.
Finally, thankfully, he stood. Hazel blinked up at him. He was a tall, lanky guy, an obvious athlete. His face was smooth and unblemished, and he couldn’t have been much older than her. He didn’t look mad or even particularly scary, more triumphant. He pushed out another breath and said, “Whew. I caught you.”
Hazel just stared at him. He acted as if this were some game. She tried to push to her feet. Maybe she could hit him hard with a pole and slip away.
He grasped her arm and helped her up. She whacked him with the pole in her free hand.
He ripped the pole away and tossed it then said, “Don’t try to run again. My boss will kill me if you get away.”
Hazel pulled in more oxygen and spit out, “He’ll kill me if you take me to him.”
The guy looked down at her in surprise. “No, he won’t. You’re gorgeous. He doesn’t hurt beautiful women. He just wants to take you with him to Bonaire for Christmas. We’ll fly back home after the police sort out the mess with Jamison. It’s going to be great.”
Either this kid was delusional, or even Brigham’s employees didn’t realize what a criminal he was. “I’m not going!” she yelled, yanking to free her arm, but he had a death grip on it. “You realize this is kidnapping.”
The guy smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “I get paid well enough I don’t care what it is.” He swept her off her feet and threw her over his shoulder, pulling her other pole from her grasp and dropping it before holding her tightly.
Hazel struggled to be free and pummeled his abdomen with her snowshoes. Unfortunately, the spikes were on the bottom of the snowshoes and she couldn’t hit him at that angle. Still, she battered at him with the tips. He grunted but didn’t stop, struggling to hold her legs fast. Her camera dug into her chest as she tried to push away from him. He made his way around the lake and then down the trail. Hazel fought and struggled, but he was as strong as he was fast.
Footsteps approached, and Brigham yelled, “Yes!”
The man holding her swung her down t
o her feet, grasping her arm tightly. She could see Brigham and two other men stopped on the trail. Brigham looked her over, his gaze leering and triumphant.
“Caught her, boss.”
“Good job.” Brigham smiled at him. “You’re fast.”
“I was a decathlete in college,” he bragged.
“I didn’t know criminals went to college,” Hazel said.
The guy looked surprised at her again. “I’m not a criminal.”
Hazel rolled her eyes and pointed at Brigham. “He is! And you’re fine with kidnapping me because you get paid well. That’s a criminal, you gormless git.”
The other men with Brigham were smiling slightly. They both looked more the part of mafia henchmen: suits, jewelry, thick necks, and bodybuilder shapes. One had a squashed nose like he’d been in one too many fights. The other had a nasty burn scar on his cheek.
Brigham was smiling broadest of all. “I like your spice. You ready to go?” he asked, as if she’d fall into line.
“I’m going nowhere with you.”
Brigham chuckled at that. “Chase, pick her up.”
The younger guy shrugged and swept her off the ground and over his shoulder again. Hazel’s stomach was in her throat, and her sweat from pushing so hard was cooling into icy fear. Her body was lagging and she wasn’t sure she had any fight left in her, but she couldn’t let them take her. Brigham acted like he was simply taking her on vacation. The man was such a liar that he seemed to believe his own delusional reality. She kicked at Chase’s stomach and struggled to free herself.
“John, will you take her snowshoes and camera off?” Chase asked. “They hurt.”
One of the bigger guys approached. She tried to kick at him too, but the other guy eased in next to them on the trail and held her legs while the first one loosened the snowshoes and dropped them on the ground. Then one of them ripped the camera off of her neck. Hazel shouted in pain but also in anger. The camera sailed off into the trees, plunking into the snow and sinking out of sight.
Don't Fall for a Fugitive: Strong Family Romances Page 16