by Liz Isaacson
With one final glance at the cabin, she darted into the trees off the side of the road, running through the foliage until she felt good and sweaty, like she’d been hiking for a while.
Then she faced west, squared her shoulders, and headed back toward the cabin.
Chapter Seventeen
Kyler kept working at the restraints the coyote had bound his hands with. It wasn’t tape, and it wasn’t metal, but somewhere in between. He’d gotten out of the truck willingly, and the man had tied him immediately and passed him to the two women.
BB had barked and barked, and Kyler had thrashed against the women and the restraints when he heard his dog yelp.
“What did you do to my dog?” Kyler asked again as the man paced the room, his thumbnail in his mouth, his sharp eyes on the windows. He was obviously waiting for someone. Or something.
The two women had disappeared down the hall leading the bedrooms, and Kyler could hear intermittent crying coming from that direction. At least he thought it was crying.
The man didn’t answer his question. Again. Just pivoted when he was almost to where Kyler sat in the dining room area and went back toward the fireplace, his head swiveling so he could keep his eyes on the windows and door.
When he was farthest away, one step from turning back, Kyler inched his chair closer to the kitchen cabinets. He wasn’t tied to the chair, but he didn’t dare make a move toward the first drawer where he knew a pair of scissors was concealed. He wasn’t sure how much time he’d have, and he’d rather have a guarantee than a quick hope.
He’d moved probably a foot closer and the coyote hadn’t noticed. He just paced and paced. Kyler wasn’t sure how much time had gone by, but his patience was wearing thin. He moved again, his shoulder almost touching the counter now. One more pace, and he should be there.
The coyote froze down by the fireplace, and Kyler heard the whistling and footsteps on the front porch a moment later. He eased open the drawer with his elbow, never happier for the easy-glide system he’d spent a couple of days helping his father install the summer after he’d graduated from high school.
“Hello?” A woman’s voice came through the wood, and the coyote’s eyes narrowed. Knocking sounded, but Kyler wasn’t at the right angle to be able to see who stood on the porch. “Anyone here? I’m lost and I just need some help getting back to the trail.”
The coyote looked at Kyler, pure malice shining in his dark eyes. “You?”
“I came alone,” Kyler said, the word almost like poison on his tongue. The coyote focused on the door again, and Kyler lifted himself off the chair just enough to get his hands into the drawer and around the pair of scissors. He slipped them into his back pocket and sat at the same time the coyote opened the door six inches, his body blocking any view Kyler might have had.
“Oh, hey.” The woman laughed, and Kyler’s blood ran cold. He knew that laugh. And he knew Dahlia was not lost and didn’t need help getting back to the trail. She’d gotten his text and somehow figured out he’d been trying to spell help me that man is back and I think he’s your guy.
Or something. Kyler wasn’t exactly sure what he would’ve texted her. He just knew she was the first person he’d thought of texting, and the last person he wanted to see every evening.
He’d missed part of the conversation at the door, but the man wasn’t budging, not even an inch. He closed the door and gestured for Kyler to stand. “Out,” he said in that smooth voice that didn’t soothe.
“Out where?” Kyler made his voice as loud as he dared without being obvious.
The man grabbed Kyler by the collar and heaved him to his feet, dragging him around the peninsula in the countertop and thrusting him into the mudroom. “Stay. Silent.” He put his finger to his lips in the most sinister way. The door closed, and Kyler scrambled for the scissors to cut himself free.
If Dahlia was here, Gray wouldn’t be far. And neither would backup. Kyler needed to get his hands workable, and get the woman he loved away from danger.
I love her, he thought as he maneuvered the blades of the scissors between his wrists. The sense of euphoria was quickly replaced with the intensity of the task at hand. He wasn’t sure he could even cut through this material, but he squeezed as hard as he could, and his hands popped free. Keeping the scissors in his hand, he moved as silently as he could out the back door.
He pressed his back against the house, his fingers curling around the corner. “Okay.” He blew out his breath and peeked around the side of the house. He couldn’t see anything from here.
Crouching, he ran along the length of the cabin to the front corner, a prayer streaming through his mind. Be at the door. Please be at the door. He peered up through the slats and saw Dahlia’s black police boots there.
“Run,” he hissed. “Dahlia, you need to go. Now.”
She tilted her head and then turned her chin in his direction. Her eyes met his, and he jerked his head toward the road. “Go. Now.”
Surprise registered on her face, then a glimmer of fear, all in under a second. She fell back one step when the door opened again. “You can come in now,” the man said in that disturbingly perfect voice.
Dahlia pasted her smile back into place and stepped into the cabin with, “Thanks so much. I won’t bother you for long.”
“No,” Kyler whispered. But he couldn’t go in there again. Armed with only a pair of scissors, he was no match for the coyote. He looked out toward the road and made a dash to his truck. Crouched behind the tailgate, he wondered how quickly he could get to someone with a phone. Without keys and without a way to communicate, he’d have to trek down the road and hope someone else had come up to their cabin this weekend.
He’d turned and taken three steps when he saw another truck. Probably the one Dahlia had come in.
A bird call lifted into the air, and Kyler turned toward the woods. Gray waved at him, and Kyler checked the cabin before high-tailing it over to the other detective.
“I tried to get her not to go in,” Kyler said, his chest burning and not only from the sprinting. He felt so far away from himself, from the cabin that had always been his sanctuary.
“Who is it?” Gray asked, pressing his eyes back to the pair of binoculars he’d been using.
“The coyote. I didn’t ask his name this time. But he’s been using my cabin since I left.”
“Smart,” Gray murmured as he made tiny adjustments. “We’d already swept it. Been here. We wouldn’t come back.”
“But I told him I used it all the time.” Of course, Kyler had been fibbing at the time. He had no intention of coming up to the cabin once a month when he’d said that. It had just worked out that way. “He hurt my dog.” His voice pinched, and Kyler reminded himself to focus on the human casualty of the situation. “We have to get Dahlia out of there.”
“We’ll have two SWAT teams here in no time,” Gray said. “Dahlia’s smart and savvy. She’ll be okay.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as Kyler.
“Is she armed?”
“No.”
Kyler fisted the scissors as a roar came from the house. “He knows I’m gone.” Kyler darted out from the trees without thinking. All he knew was that he needed to get to Dahlia before something really bad happened.
The front door opened when he went past the gate, and she came out first, her head held back at an odd angle. Kyler skidded to a stop. “Let her go.”
“I told you to stay.” The coyote brought Dahlia right to the edge of the steps.
“I’m not your dog,” Kyler growled. “Now let the girl go. She’s not important.” He met Dahlia’s eyes, the spark and resiliency there as strong as ever. She kept her right hand up and back, supposedly on the man’s hand where he held her by her hair. The other hand balled into a fist, and she lifted her eyebrows as if to say, Yes? We’re good? Should I?
Kyler wasn’t really sure what she was asking, but he nodded.
Dahlia screamed and swung her fist into the man�
�s stomach at the same time Kyler charged the steps. But she didn’t need his help, not really. She yelled as she lifted the doubled-over man over her shoulder with both hands now clenched around the one he’d been using to hold her hair tight.
“There are people in the back rooms,” Kyler said, reaching for the open door and pulling it shut. “They work with him.”
“Gray!” Dahlia yelled, her chest heaving with her breath, and the man came sprinting forward. “Cuffs. Keep Kyler safe. There are more people inside.”
“You can’t go in there alone.” Gray handed her the cuffs and peered in the window.
“Well, they can’t get away.” She knelt on the man’s back and bent his arms around him to secure him. “Some of them are victims.”
“At least two aren’t,” Kyler said. “Women.”
Dahlia straightened. “I’m going in there.”
Kyler caught her wrist in his hand. “Dahlia, please don’t.” Their eyes met, and time slowed for just a breath. “I love you,” he said. “And I have a bad feeling about you going in there.”
Time rushed forward again, and Gray said, “I’ll go.” He opened the door before Kyler could protest. He swung his weapon left and right and said, “Clear,” before moving farther in.
The man struggled on the porch, and Dahlia put her foot on his back and said, “Stay still. They’ll be here for you soon.”
He muttered something in Spanish that Kyler was sure was rude. Gray returned a moment later, his phone pressed against his ear. “….scattering to the north and east,” he said. “I counted at least eight people. Probably more.”
“You’ll never find them,” the coyote said.
“We found you,” Dahlia said. “So don’t be too sure.”
Gray continued to talk into his phone, his expression one of pure displeasure. Kyler knew they hadn’t gotten everything they wanted, but Dahlia was safe. He was safe. He slipped his hand into Dahlia’s, glad when she squeezed back.
Only minutes later, two police cars arrived, and McDermott stepped from the car, surprise mixing with seriousness on his face. “Kyler, you all right?”
He realized he was still holding the pair of scissors. He dropped them to the porch, where they clattered against the wood. “Yeah, okay.” He released Dahlia’s hand and went down the steps. “He did something to BB.”
He ran to the little dog lying on the road next to the truck and found his chest rising and falling as if asleep. “BB? Bread and Butter, wake up.”
“I’ll radio a vet,” McDermott said. “Looks like maybe he was drugged to keep him silent.” His friend’s hand came down on his back. “Don’t touch him or move him, Kyler. Okay?”
Kyler wanted to scoop the little dog into his arms and cry, ridiculous as that sounded. “Okay.” He nodded and sucked back his emotions, placing just two fingers on BB’s chest so the pup would know he was there.
Chapter Eighteen
Dahlia warred with herself. She wanted to stay with the coyote all the way to the holding cell and then the interrogation room. Never let him out of her sight. But Kyler bent over his dog tore at her heartstrings. They sounded a loud note, and she left the coyote with three capable police officers stationed nearby.
She knelt next to Kyler and touched his shoulder. He winced and looked at her with anguish in his eyes.
“Sorry.” She leaned her head against his bicep. “For everything.”
Kyler sniffed and kept his eyes on the dog. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
“Did you mean what you said?” she whispered. The words had been screaming in her ears since he’d said them.
I love you.
“Yes.” He put his hand on her knee.
“I’ll have to work late tonight,” she said. “But maybe after your interview, we can grab some dinner.”
He swung his head toward her. “You want to go to dinner?”
“It might be the kind we swing by and get and take back to the office.” She blinked at him, the first inklings of a smile pulling against her mouth. “I want to choose you.”
If only the fear over the uncertainty of the future would let her.
“It’s not me or the job,” he said.
“But it is, Kyler.” She watched as more police cars arrived, along with a SWAT truck from Vernal. Gray appeared to give them directions, leaving Dahlia to stay with Kyler—right where her heart wanted her to be.
“And I choose you.” She pressed her lips to his cheek, never more sure of anything in her life. “I choose you.”
Ten months later:
Dahlia watched the clock obsessively until it hit three p.m. Gathering her purse, she said, “I’m off, Lois. I’ll see you in a couple of weeks.”
The older secretary looked away from her computer. “Two weeks?”
“I’m getting married tomorrow, remember?” Warmth passed through Dahlia. The last ten months had been a whirlwind of emotions and activities. First, she’d stayed on as a Unified Police Force detective just until the case with the coyote had been all stitched tight. Then she’d put in her resignation, without a real plan for what she’d fill her days with.
She’d loved police work her entire life, but somehow now that she had Kyler in her life, she was ready to move on. In a small town like Brush Creek, her options hadn’t been too wide or varied, but an office management position had come up at the police department, and Dahlia had been the ideal candidate.
She’d been filing reports, keeping everything organized for the officers, and running training meetings for six months—and she’d never been happier. She went in at eight each morning and she left at five each night. The routine of it all brought peace to her normally chaotic life, and as she stepped into the spring sunshine, she couldn’t believe how different her life was now from what it had been a year ago.
And not just because of the diamond she wore on her left hand. She glanced at it, still not quite used to its presence in her life, as well as everything it represented.
She opened the passenger door to Wren’s car and said, “Hey. No Etta?”
“My mom took her.” Wren grinned at her and pulled onto the street. “Are you ready for this?”
Dahlia giggled with Kyler’s sister. “The rehearsal dinner will go fine. I’m more worried my dress won’t be ready.”
“Oh, they called,” she said. “The girl said she can finish the last stitches after she makes sure it fits in the bust.” Wren increased her speed once she hit the highway outside of town. “She said it would only be a few minutes.”
Dahlia still worried the whole way to Vernal, to the dress shop where she and her mother had chosen the dress she’d be married in tomorrow at eleven. The shop had been working on the alterations for four months, and Dahlia had no idea it took that long to sew in an extra panel in the scoop back or add a few beads.
Wren’s phone bleeped, and she handed it to Dahlia. “Just see if it’s Tate or my mom.”
It wasn’t her husband or her mother. “It’s Fabi.” Dahlia kept reading. “She says she and Jazzy just left.” She looked at Wren. “Are they meeting us there?”
“Yeah. I invited them. Is that okay?”
One thing Dahlia hadn’t quite been prepared for was the inheritance of four sisters. As an only child, dealing with Kyler’s large family had been a challenge, to say the least. But Fabi, Jazzy, and Wren had wanted to be involved every step of the way.
“Yeah, sure.” Dahlia had been grateful for their help in picking out flowers, setting the menu for the luncheon, choosing colors, and tasting cakes. Planning a wedding had been overwhelming, but having the Fuller sisters at her side had made it all easier.
Berlin, the youngest Fuller, had been noticeably absent during most of it, but she was taking online college classes and working full time. Wren had told Dahlia that Berlin had a lot going on and she’d come around eventually.
Dahlia thought there was more going on, but she wasn’t marrying Kyler so she could play detective with his family.
<
br /> She was marrying him because she loved him.
She smiled thinking about him and their big day tomorrow, and the dress fitting went fine. They arrived back in Brush Creek, the pavilion Kyler had spent the last twenty years mowing around decorated beautifully, with the bright yellow and navy blue balloons, as well as white lilies on every table.
The metal picnic tables had been covered with white tablecloths, with navy confetti sprinkled around the vases.
Dahlia paused on the threshold of the pavilion, glad she’d worn the fit-and-flare navy dress with stars and galaxies on it. “This is perfect.”
Wren linked her arm through Dahlia’s. “I told you the Davis’s were the best at parties.” She’d recommended Amber Davis as the decorator, and she also supplied all the flowers. Kyler had wanted the wedding outdoors, somewhere meaningful to him, and there was nowhere better than Oxbow Park. Dahlia had spent countless hours on the running paths here, so she had no objections.
“Hey, gorgeous.” Kyler swept his arm around Dahlia’s waist and brought her flush against him before placing a kiss on her temple. “How’d the fitting go?”
“Great.” She leaned into him. “I have the dress, so I think the wedding will go on as scheduled.”
He chuckled and tugged at the navy paisley tie she’d bought for him weeks ago. “Food’s here,” he said. “They arrived just after me.”
Dahlia turned to see several people making their way toward them, pushing silver carts with equipment and long, covered trays of food.
“I can’t believe you let me have sandwiches at our wedding.” Kyler watched them approach with appreciation in his eyes.
“That’s how much I love you.” Dahlia wrapped her arms around her almost-husband and giggled. “Plus, I liked Teddy’s too.” They both liked the restaurant so much, they went every weekend and hiring them to do the wedding luncheon was a no brainer.
“Mom’s ten minutes out,” Wren said, pushing her phone into her back pocket.
“Oh, my, goodness, look!” Fabi’s voice went nuclear and Dahlia followed her frantic gaze to the parking lot.