Her Christmas Guardian

by Shirlee McCoy

  “Just because something isn’t supposed to be touched doesn’t mean it hasn’t been,” Jackson pointed out.

  Eleanor shrugged. “If you feel the need to check in that area, go ahead, but the boxes are sealed with packing tape. Unless they look like they’ve been tampered with, I’d rather you not open them.”

  “No problem,” Jackson responded, lifting a box from the top of a stack. “Was your stuff in a white box, Scout?” he asked.

  “No. Brown. With the word Christmas written on both sides in black marker.” She eyed the pile of boxes. There were a lot. More than she remembered from her last visit. But then, she hadn’t been paying any attention to Eleanor’s things.

  The boxes were stacked three deep and four tall, all of them white and clean and clearly marked—silverware, linens, photographs.

  Scout dragged an entire stack away, looked at the stack behind it. All white.

  “I do have everything alphabetized,” Eleanor huffed. “I’d like it to be put back that way.”

  “Sure thing,” Jackson responded, dragging more boxes out of the way.

  And there it was, the brown box, Christmas emblazoned on the side.

  Scout’s pulse jumped, and she lifted it from the spot. “This is it.”

  It felt heavier than she remembered, and she set it down, lifted the lid, her breath catching as she saw the glittery Christmas balls and strands of lights. Lucy had been too young to understand the meaning of Christmas, but she’d loved the decorations. Last year, she’d been fascinated by the tree, the lights, the tiny nativity that Scout put on the coffee table.

  “See anything?” Jackson asked, his words pulling her back to the moment and the task. She needed to concentrate, because the key to Lucy’s disappearance could be right in front of her.

  “It should be on the top. That’s where I left it.” She frowned, lifting several strands of lights and boxes of glass Christmas balls.

  “It probably got shifted when the box was moved. What I’m interested in knowing is who moved it. But,” Eleanor said, glancing at her watch again, “I really do need to get out of here. Would you mind taking the box with you so I can lock up?”

  “No problem.” Jackson lifted the box, turned away.

  And Eleanor moved. Not in the quick short steps Scout was used to seeing. In a flurry of movement that didn’t register until it was over. A quick shift of her hand. A wide arching motion of something that Scout couldn’t quite see.

  Jackson must have sensed it. He pivoted, the box falling from his hands, glass shattering as he lunged toward Eleanor.

  She lunged, too, a wild look in her eyes and on her face as she smashed something into his stomach, then hit him in the head with her purse.

  He went down hard, his body crashing onto the concrete floor.

  Scout reacted a second too late, barreling into Eleanor with enough force to send them both flying. They landed with a thud, and Scout was up again, running toward the door, escape just seconds away.

  But could she leave Jackson?

  What would happen if she did?

  Would he be killed?

  She couldn’t live with that, and she stopped just outside the unit, rain pouring down on her head and soaking into her clothes.

  “You can run,” Eleanor said, already on her feet, the wild look gone from her eyes. “That’s your choice, but I have instructions to bring you and whatever your friend sent you with me to the cabin where your daughter is being held. If you don’t show up, you may never see Lucy again.”

  “Jackson—” She looked past Eleanor, thought she saw Jackson’s hand move.

  “He’s fine. I didn’t use enough juice to do more than knock him down for a few minutes. The brick in my purse was my employer’s idea. It worked a little better than I thought it would, but I doubt he’ll have more than a headache from it.” She tucked a Taser in her purse, brushing a hand down her black slacks. “We leave here together, and he’ll be up and moving before we pull out of the parking lot. So, how about you grab that box and everything in it, and we get going? Your daughter has been crying for you nonstop since they took her. Seems to me you’d want to get to her quick.”

  “Why did you take her?” Scout righted the box and started tossing things inside. Broken Christmas balls stabbed her hands, but she didn’t care. “What do you want from me?”

  “I didn’t take her, and I don’t want anything from you. I’ve seen your financial information, remember?” she said with a cold smile. “You’re not worth much. Besides, I’ve got nothing against you. It’s my employer who wants what you have. I don’t know what it is, and I don’t care.”

  “Then why are you doing this?” She lifted the last strand of lights, realized that Jackson had shifted subtly.

  Was he conscious?

  “Because I was offered a boatload of cash and a ticket out of the country. After today, I’m going to be living the high life in a country where the American dollar is worth a lot more than it is here. Come on.” She gestured impatiently. “If I don’t have you there by four, I’m out of luck and you might be, too.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Enough chitchat!” Eleanor barked. “You want to see your kid again?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then let’s go.” She took a step, and Jackson was up, moving so quickly Scout wondered if he’d ever actually been unconscious.

  One fast surge of muscle and strength, and Eleanor was facedown on the ground, her arm hiked up behind her back.

  “Good job, Scout,” he said, not even breathless from the effort.

  “Doing what?”

  “Getting a little more information than we had before.” He dragged Eleanor to her feet. “Now, how about we all head out together? Because I really hate to be left out of the party.”

  “You’re going to have to figure out where we’re going first,” Eleanor spat. “And I’m not telling you. I do that and I may as well shoot myself in the head right now.”

  “Let’s not be dramatic, Eleanor,” Jackson said drily. “You’re here, you’re safe, and as long as you cooperate, I’m going to make sure you stay that way. We’re going to take your car. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “I do,” she growled, tugging against his hold.

  “Too bad. I wouldn’t want your boss to realize your mission wasn’t successful. I’m sure he’s got someone watching the facility to make sure your car leaves with you in it. Scout, want to get her keys out of her purse?”

  Scout picked up Eleanor’s oversize bag, pulled out the brick and dropped it onto the ground. Found a wallet, a cell phone, the Taser and, finally, the keys.

  “Got them,” she said, her voice shakier than she wanted it to be.

  “Good.” Jackson took them from her hand. “So, here’s how it’s going to be, Eleanor. You get to drive, and you’d better drive well, because the amount of time you spend in jail is going to depend on it.”

  “You’re assuming that there’s going to be jail time.”

  He laughed. “Come on, lady. You hit me over the head with a brick. You zapped me with a Taser. There are two witnesses who heard you confess to being paid by a little girl’s kidnapper. You’re in deep. You cooperate and you can dig yourself out a little.”

  Eleanor pressed her lips together, but didn’t respond.

  “I’ll take your silence for assent. Let’s go. Scout, if you can manage the box, we’ll be set.” He dragged Eleanor outside, and Scout followed with the box.

  The day had grown darker, rain pouring from the sky in sheets.

  If the temperature dropped, there would be ice in the mountains. Would they call off the search for Lucy if that happened?

  Jackson opened the trunk, had Scout put the box in it and then urged her into the passenger seat. As soon as she was in, h
e walked Eleanor to the driver’s side of the car. “I’m riding in the back. I’ve got a feeling Eleanor’s boss has someone stationed outside the storage facility and I don’t want to be seen driving this car. Play nice,” he ordered as he opened the driver’s-side door. “I’ve got a headache, and I’m not going to be happy if you don’t.”

  He climbed in the backseat, then handed Eleanor the keys.

  She shoved one of them in the ignition and started the engine, her jaw tight, her gaze focused straight ahead. “Where do you want me to take you?”

  “Same place you were going before I decided not to cooperate with your plans,” Jackson responded.

  “I’m not going to do it.”

  “Then just drive yourself to jail, because that’s where you’re headed.”

  “I’ll be out on bond before you can sign your name on the complaint.”

  “How much do you think that’s going to be for someone who’s been arrested for kidnapping, attempted murder—?”

  “I wasn’t trying to kill you!” Eleanor protested.

  “I’m not talking about me. I’m talking about Scout.”

  “I had nothing to do with what happened to her.”

  “But you knew she was going to be attacked, and you did nothing about it.”

  “I didn’t! All I knew was that Lucy was going to be held as collateral. No one was supposed to get hurt.”

  “Held as collateral?” Jackson snorted. “That’s a pretty way of saying she was being held for ransom. Kidnapping is kidnapping. No matter the name you put on it. Murder is murder, too.”

  “No one was murdered,” she snapped.

  “What do you think is going to happen to Lucy when your boss realizes you weren’t successful? You think he’s going to try to run with her?” Jackson said, his words like knives to Scout’s heart. “If so, you’re a fool.”

  Eleanor didn’t speak. Not a word as she drove down Main Street and made her way through River Valley.

  Scout wanted to fill the silence. She wanted to beg for the information, demand it, offer anything to have it.

  She knew it wouldn’t do any good. Eleanor had never been warm or friendly. She’d never been unkind, either. All Scout could do was pray that she’d be reasonable, that in the deepest part of whoever she was, she’d understand the value of Lucy’s life and agree to do what it would take to save it.

  Finally, Eleanor sighed. “I’ll take you there, but only for the kid’s sake. She’s a sweet little thing, and I don’t want anything to happen to her.”

  “Thank you,” Scout breathed, and Eleanor scowled.

  “I already said that this is for Lucy. Not for you. Now, how about both of you just shut up and let me drive. Otherwise, I might change my mind.”

  “I have to make a few phone calls,” Jackson replied. “But I’ll try to keep the talking to a minimum.”

  Scout wanted to ask if he was calling Boone, but she was so afraid that she’d annoy Eleanor, she kept her mouth shut as River Valley disappeared behind them and the mountains loomed ever closer up ahead.

  THIRTEEN

  Boone’s phone rang as he and Cyrus geared up.

  He answered quickly, his mind on the mission ahead. “Anderson here. What’s up?”

  “I’m heading in your direction with Scout and her landlady,” Jackson responded.

  “I’m assuming you have a good reason for that?” Boone shrugged into his pack and slipped a parka on over it. The temperature was going to drop as the sun went down, and he needed to stay as dry as possible.

  “Eleanor was planning to take Scout to visit her daughter. She thought she’d do it without me, but things didn’t work out that way.”

  Boone stilled, rain pouring down around him, Cyrus mumbling something about getting a move on because the sun set early in November. “She knows where Lucy is?”

  Cyrus looked up from the GPS he was programming. “Who knows?” he asked.

  Boone raised a hand, silencing him as he tried to hear above the pounding rain.

  “Says she was paid to take care of the kid while her boss looked for whatever it is he thinks Scout has,” Jackson said.

  “Who’s her boss?”

  “Who is she?” Cyrus moved closer, his dark eyes flashing with impatience. A hundred yards behind him, a three-story building jutted up against low-hanging clouds, the windows and doors boarded up, graffiti marring the dingy white facade. The place had probably been beautiful at its peak. Now the neglected lodge was nothing but an eyesore in the midst of stunning wilderness.

  “She says she doesn’t know.” Jackson answered Boone’s question. “He contacted her a month ago, asking questions about Scout and Lucy. Offered her a few thousand dollars to snoop around the house.”

  “I was not snooping,” a woman called. “It’s my property. It is within my legal right to inspect it.”

  “Save it for the police,” Jackson growled.

  “I take it that’s Eleanor? Did she say how she got involved in all this?”

  “Long story short, the guy who hired her to inspect Scout’s things asked if she’d like to earn a nice chunk of change and a plane ticket out of the country. All she had to do for it was babysit Lucy for a few days while he found the thing he was looking for.”

  “She have any idea what that thing is?”

  “Not that she’s admitting to. We’ve got the box with the picture frame in it. Haven’t found the frame yet, though. We got a little sidetracked. The good news is, Eleanor has the exact coordinates of the cabin where they’re keeping Lucy. It’s a tough three-mile hike through the woods, but we shouldn’t have any trouble finding it.”

  “Go ahead and give me the location. I’ll—”

  “I don’t think so, Boone. We’re going to have to think this through. We go in there half-cocked and someone is liable to get hurt.”

  “Since when do I do things half-cocked?”

  “Since the day I met you.”

  Boone couldn’t argue with that.

  He did go with his gut a lot, move into situations on a hunch. He never did it without knowing exactly what he was getting into, though. He didn’t this time. He had no idea if there was one person or ten or none at the cabin with Lucy.

  “Okay. Fine. What’s the plan?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder at the police and FBI agents who were gathered beneath a canvas awning in the ski resort’s parking lot. They’d already drawn a grid of the area, divided it into quadrants. Search dogs were sniffing at the ground, but no one had moved into the woods yet. No one would until the perimeter of the area had been secured. That required man power and coordination from local police in two counties. Those things took time. Which was one of the reasons Boone preferred to work outside of local law-enforcement channels.

  “We’re almost there. Hold off until we arrive. I already put in calls to Rodriguez and Lamar. They’ve given me permission to send Scout and Eleanor in ahead of the search teams.”

  “No.” He said it definitively, because there was no way he was letting it happen. Scout was too fragile, too wounded. Sending her out into the wilderness with a woman who’d already admitted to working with Lucy’s kidnapper was a surefire way to get her killed.

  “That’s not your decision to make,” Jackson responded.

  “It’s not yours, either.”

  “Right. It’s Scout’s, and she’s already decided.”

  “Probably because she doesn’t know what she’s getting into.”

  “She knows. I explained everything.”

  “I think I should explain it again.”

  “We’re pulling into the parking area now,” Jackson responded. “Knock yourself out.”

  Boone glanced at the entrance to the parking lot, saw a dark sedan rolling in. It pulled up beside Cy
rus’s truck, the front passenger’s door opening almost before it came to a full stop.

  Scout climbed out, her skin pallid, the staples a dark stain against the paleness. Her hair hung around her shoulders, the strands tangled and matted from rain. She shouldn’t have been beautiful, but she met his eyes and smiled, and there was absolutely nothing about her that wasn’t lovely.

  He took her hand, pulled her away from Cyrus, the truck, the sedan. “You okay?” he asked, and she nodded.

  “I’m not the one who’s been standing out in the rain, so I guess I’m fine.” She swiped her hand across his cheek and frowned. “You, on the other hand, are soaked.”

  “Not even close, but you will be if you head out into those woods. You don’t have the gear for it. No parka. No hiking boots. You’ll be frozen before you get a hundred yards in.”

  “Do you really think I care?” She glanced at the building that had once served as the ski resort’s lodge, eyed the forest that stretched out beyond it. “I would walk a thousand miles in the snow to get to my daughter, and I know you would do the same for yours. Don’t make this be about discomfort or hardship. All it’s about is love. I have enough of that to get me through anything.”

  There were a lot of things he could have said. He could have told her how dangerous it might be. He could have said that she might get to the location and find that Lucy had already been moved. He could have told her the harsh truth of the matter—that love wasn’t always enough. He could have formulated a dozen arguments against her going with Eleanor, but she was right. He’d have walked over burning coals to get to Kendal. “Tell you what,” he said. “I won’t make it about anything but doing everything I can to help you.”

  She smiled at that. “Thanks, Boone. When this is all over, I’m going to make you that cake you want.”

  “Is that a promise? Because I take promises about food very seriously.”

  “It’s a promise.”

  “Are we talking chocolate? Yellow? Angel food?”