Panic swelled in his chest. He fisted his hands. “Every minute you make me beg you could have one less minute left to save her. You come too. You can help me find her.”
The man frowned, desperation filling his eyes. “You don’t have to convince me, son. I know you’re right. Sierra wouldn’t have written this note unless she was forced. You go and I’ll call the sheriff. But I don’t know if Samson will take your commands.”
“I don’t know either, but I’ve watched Sierra. And I know the dog will want to find her. He seems anxious right now as though he senses something’s wrong.” Though admittedly the dog had only grown anxious since Bryce had come in and started stirring up trouble. “Let me try. If she’s anywhere near then Samson will find her.”
“But if you’re right,” John said, “and she’s in danger, she wouldn’t want you to put her dog in harm’s way. That was one of the reasons she moved back here.”
“What do you think, John? Are you okay with me taking the dog into a dangerous situation if it means saving Sierra?”
“Go. Find her. Just don’t let her dog get hurt.”
Bryce leashed Samson, afraid he wouldn’t be able to call him back. He needed the dog sticking close to him on their search.
He grabbed Sierra’s scarf to let Samson know that Bryce wanted him to find Sierra. He wasn’t a trained handler but simply copied what he’d seen Sierra do. He rubbed the scarf over Samson’s nose. “Find Sierra.”
What was the German word Sierra had used? His brain too flustered—he couldn’t remember. Then Bryce opened the back door to the woods. They could start there.
Samson nearly yanked his arm off as he escaped through the door. Was it working? He cautioned himself not to get his hopes up. For all Bryce knew Samson had merely picked up on Sierra’s previous excursion here. Bryce couldn’t know and could be wasting time too. Then again, judging by Samson’s urgency, he could very well lead Bryce to Sierra.
“I’m calling the sheriff.” John shouted from behind.
Bryce followed the dog’s urgent search through the deep snow, over fallen snow-covered logs, branches. Through the underbrush, and over frozen creeks. Samson veered south along the river where Bryce had fallen through the ice a few days back. Bryce feared the dog could lose the scent as he’d seen happen a few times—due to someone getting out on a snowmobile or because the snow-covered the tracks—but Samson continued on unhesitatingly.
Bryce sucked the cold air deep into his lungs—he might die of a heart attack before Samson found Sierra. But one thing he felt in his gut—the dog was on her scent.
“Good boy. Keep up the good work. Find Sierra.”
God, please just let this storm ease up, and let me find her. Protect her. Protect Samson. Help me to find and save her.
He struggled to maneuver around boulders and over rocky outcroppings as Samson searched to catch a trace of Sierra’s scent.
Lord, help us find Sierra.
Better yet, just have her call me on my cell to say that she’s all right.
With the thought and prayer, he felt the buzz in his pocket. He didn’t want to slow Samson down, so kept up with him as he dragged the cell out and tried to view it with numb, gloved hands.
“Hold up, Samson!” Probably not a command, but Samson whined, understanding just the same. He continued to sniff.
Bryce read the text from John.
Sheriff hasn’t seen Sierra this morning. He’ll help look around town and worst case, he’ll organize a search party. She was supposed to talk to him today about coming back to work and didn’t show up. Please find Sierra, son!
Finally, about an hour after they’d started, Samson alerted Bryce to a cabin. He tried to remember the command for Samson to sit and stay quiet. Bryce pulled his fingers from his gloves to ready his weapon, unsure if any part of his body would respond in this cold. If Samson could be trusted, Sierra was in that cabin.
And not by her own will.
What had happened? Who had taken her?
Keeping to the trees, he slowly approached the log cabin. Snow piled high on one side and he wondered about the reliability of the old structure. Dim light drifted from one dirty window. A branch hung low and scraped the window.
Bryce waited and listened, then slowly eased over to peek into the window, hoping the moving branch would help hide the movement. His heart lurched at what he saw. Sierra was tied to a chair, arms behind her back. Her ankles were tied too.
Her mouth had been stuffed so she couldn’t scream—as if anyone would hear her out here. Bruises covered the left side of her face.
And Jane stood over Sierra speaking. Bryce couldn’t hear her words above the wind that was picking up. Seemed like they were going to get caught in a blizzard.
This was the moment of truth. Would Bryce be able to save her this time too, like he’d done in the past? Would he die for her? He was certainly willing.
To calm his pounding heart, he slowly breathed in a few icy breaths.
He sent up a silent prayer. Lord, you never leave us nor forsake us. Be with me now as I go in to free Sierra. Keep her safe.
Bryce wished he could simply command Samson to attack. But that could get the dog killed and Sierra would never forgive Bryce for putting her beloved pet in harm’s way. Ideally, he’d wait for backup of the human variety, but there just wasn’t enough time.
Jane’s back was to him so Bryce took advantage of that and analyzed the room and surroundings. There wasn’t any way he could enter the cabin through that one door without alerting Jane of his approach.
One step on that porch would probably give him away unless she thought the wind was causing the creaks. He could hope. The only good news was that the heavy wooden beam used to bolt the door was hanging down, and the door could be breached more easily. Still...
God, what do I do?
He considered his few options, indecision warring inside him. He didn’t want Sierra to get hurt or killed when he entered. But he couldn’t just stand there and watch her be harmed either.
Bryce had to act now.
* * *
Sierra stared at Jane, her eyes watering with pain. In her wildest dreams, she never imagined this would happen. Raul had been the tormenter in her dreams.
She hadn’t known that he and Damien had raised a niece after her mother had died in a car crash. They’d changed her name and protected her from all connections to them. Her true name was Raven. But under the guise of Jane, she’d come to work for Sierra and planned out her revenge—long before her uncles had escaped and tried to do the same.
With Damien’s death, Jane and Raul worked together to extract vengeance. And Jane had provided the hiding place for her uncle Raul at her own home right there in town.
Sierra wanted to heave to think that Raul’s niece, Jane, who hated her so much, had been so close to her this whole time. She had been close to thinking of Jane as family more than an employee. Over time she would have. What about the guy Jane was dating? Did he know her true identity—and her true, cruel nature? The whole thing caused acid to rise in her throat. Raul had been even closer than she ever could have imagined.
He had eluded the police and the search dogs with his snowmobile and other tricks, but in the end he always returned to Jane’s home without anyone being the wiser. That is, until he’d been caught coming back from his highway attack. That had been one desperate and stupid move on his part, to boldly stand on that road shooting at them when there was no real escape for him.
All Sierra could think was that he hadn’t cared if he was caught, as long as he killed her. But he’d failed.
“And now I’m left to finish the job,” Jane said. Her entire demeanor had changed, and she looked like a dangerous and venomous person.
“It’s been my show all along, really. Sure, Uncle Raul shot at you and attacked you, but I played the mind games
. I ransacked the home while you and your good old dad were out.”
That made sense, but Jane had seemed so concerned for her when she had called to inform about the break-in. Why hadn’t Sierra sensed something in Jane or seen this coming? Why hadn’t she figured it out when Raul had seemed to know her every move before she made it? Because Jane had informed him of all of her plans. She’d been listening closely to all Sierra’s conversations even though she’d seemed to be busy at work and happy with her job. And when she wasn’t at work, she’d lived in a bungalow in a wooded area on the edge of town where Raul could come and go without prying eyes. But she’d clearly found a remote and forgotten cabin to use in her plans to abduct Sierra.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been planning and waiting for this. Did you know that I followed you all the way from Boulder?” She giggled as if punch drunk. “And when you hired me for that part-time job helping out at the store, I knew that providence must be on my side.”
Sick. Providence would never be on the side of a crazy like Jane.
Jane pulled the rag out of Sierra’s mouth. “Well? Got anything to say to all that?”
Sierra moved her tongue around and tried to wet her parched lips. “Why now? You’ve been here for a year. Why did you decide... Oh, because your uncles escaped. But you didn’t have to reveal yourself. Why continue? You’ll only be caught just like Raul was.”
That earned her another slap on the face. Jane must have been holding it all in this last year and waiting for the moment when she could unleash her pent-up anger. Again, nausea roiled inside.
“I knew that your boyfriend could end up staying. I wanted to keep taunting you, but I couldn’t if he stayed. So I sent him away when I made you write that note. He must be miles away now and no one is coming to save you this time. My only regret is that my uncle—”
A disturbance drew their attention.
Bryce had knocked through the doorway. He pointed a gun straight at Jane.
“Step away from her and put your hands on your head.”
Ignoring Bryce’s demands, Jane laughed. “Well, well. You figured it out after all. I don’t mind—I have to say that Plan B is just as exciting as Plan A. Now I get to kill those whom Sierra cares about the most right in front of her.”
Jane darted away, dodging Bryce’s bullet and producing a gun of her own. She aimed it at Sierra.
As if in slow motion, Sierra watched as a growling, barking Samson jumped on Jane but not before she fired her gun right as Bryce lunged in front of Sierra.
Samson and Bryce—she loved them both—tried to save Sierra. Jane was screaming. Samson subdued her with his massive form.
And now Sierra better understood what had happened. Samson had never liked Jane. Maybe he had even tried to alert Sierra, who continually trained him to trust Jane... So Jane had been able to march into the store and abduct Sierra at gunpoint without anyone being the wiser.
Including her precious guard dog, Samson.
Tears leaked from her eyes.
“Call him off! Call your dog off!” Jane screamed.
Sierra ignored the woman. “Bryce, get up. Bryce, are you okay?”
He groaned. Got to his feet then produced a knife. Hands shaking, he cut her free. She rubbed her bleeding wrists. He cut her ankles free too.
“Are you all right?” she asked. “Wait, you’re shot!”
He looked himself over. “No. She missed. Samson changed her aim.”
“You risked your life for me again, Bryce. You could have died.”
“It’s all part of the—” he cleared his throat “—it used to be part of the job.”
He kept his intense gaze on her, a gaze that could have been lifeless now since he’d once again risked his life, willing to give it for her.
This was why she couldn’t love because... Because she couldn’t take that pain of loss again.
But it was too late.
Sierra already loved Bryce.
Samson clamped down on Jane’s arm to keep her in place. Sierra’s hands were numb from being tied so long. “Do you have handcuffs you could secure her with? And let’s call the sheriff.”
He nodded. Stumbled over to Jane and secured her hands while Sierra tried to get a signal. Finally she found one bar and left a voicemail. Then she texted the information to the sheriff in case her words were garbled. Sent the text to multiple people including Dad.
Samson relinquished his hold on Jane after Bryce restrained her with the rope she’d used on Sierra.
“Samson,” Sierra called. “Good boy. You found me, didn’t you?”
“And you, Bryce. You... You came looking for me. Why? That note I wrote—I figured you would be long gone and I would die here.”
“The note didn’t sound like you. Either that or I didn’t want to believe you in which case that would mean I am a stalker.”
Samson moaned, then suddenly struggled to stand. He ignored Sierra’s commands for his attention. What was happening? What was wrong?
Panic slid around Sierra’s throat.
Her dog collapsed at her feet.
“Samson? Samson!” She held his head up. His eyes were closed, but he still breathed.
Sierra gazed around the room. Had Samson gotten into something? She spotted the water bowl over behind where she’d been sitting. She hadn’t been able to see it before.
No...
Maniacal laughing started from the table. Sierra gazed over at Raven. “What did you do?”
“It’s all part of Plan B.”
To kill those whom Sierra cared the most about—right in front of her. Bryce hadn’t been shot, but Samson...
TWENTY
At the Crescent Springs Vet Hospital, where Samson lay on a table, they waited. A couple of chairs sat empty against the wall. Sierra couldn’t sit while she worried about Samson. So she stood and leaned against the sterile decor, the fingers of one hand covering her mouth, the other hand held firmly in Bryce’s. He was as concerned for Samson’s well-being as Sierra was, and remained understanding and patient. She thought he might even be praying.
Sierra thought back to her experience at the cabin where Jane had taken her. To Bryce and Samson’s heroic actions to save Sierra and capture Jane. Despite the blizzard brewing outside, the authorities had moved quickly for Sheriff Locke, deputies and Officer Kendall to get to the cabin to arrest Jane-Raven. They also brought with them an opioid antidote kit Sierra had requested. She couldn’t know for certain that’s what caused Samson’s reaction, but Bryce had found a stash of pill bottles with painkillers on Jane. She finally admitted she’d crushed a few pills into the water as part of her Plan B in case Bryce and Samson decided to be heroes.
In this case, Sierra believed her.
How could Jane harm Samson like that? It took significant control not to unleash her rage on the woman. Unfortunately Jane was raised by two demented men and followed in their footsteps. But Jane was no longer Sierra’s concern.
She focused her thoughts on Samson.
Proximity to Sierra had been dangerous to those closest to her, and now Samson could pay the highest price of all.
The vet, Harry Eubanks, had explained that dogs were trained to search for drugs and were more resistant to narcotics than humans, but those same dogs who could sniff out heroin could die from small doses of the synthetic opioids used for pain relief. Veterinarians, police and EMT’s now regularly carried the kits to treat overdoses.
Harry listened to Samson’s heart and lungs with his stethoscope. He peered up at Sierra. “It’s been a couple of hours since the naloxone was administered to counter the drugs. All we can do now is wait.”
“And pray,” she said. She wouldn’t leave his side until this was over, one way or another. But God please let him wake up. Let the antidote work for him.
She never meant for Samson to be
put in danger. If Samson died because he’d come with Bryce to find and save her, she didn’t know how she could deal with that.
As it was, she wanted so much to tell Bryce what she was truly thinking about the fact that he’d thrown himself in front of a bullet. But that conversation would have to wait. Now she was concerned for her best friend, Samson.
“He’s going to be okay, Sierra,” Bryce said. “Don’t you worry. Samson’s a strong one.”
Sierra was keeping the faith, keeping the hope. She wanted to believe what Bryce said was true. She wouldn’t argue with him about it. But when she glanced up and into his eyes, she saw the question in his eyes plain as day.
He feared that she blamed him for this. Bryce was the one to take Samson out to search for her, so in that respect he had put the dog in harm’s way. But she didn’t hold that against him—after all, if he hadn’t used Samson, she would be dead right now. She’d been praying he would use Samson to find her.
“Tell me what you want me to do, Sierra. How can I help?”
She moved to the table and stroked Samson’s fur. Harry was over at his counter working on his laptop. Close, but giving them space. “You’re helping now. Just being here. Finding me.”
Bryce’s mesmerizing silvery-blue eyes held her gaze, and she didn’t miss that they were filled with extraordinary pain.
“How can I ever thank you? If you hadn’t come—”
“Then you don’t... You don’t blame me for using Samson to find you?”
Sierra took Bryce’s hand. “How could I blame you for that? I tried to protect Samson the same way I tried to protect my heart. By avoiding the risks. I can’t do that anymore. Samson saved us both today and I’ll never forget that. He has to do what he was born and trained to do.” She swallowed the tears welling in her throat. “Oh, Bryce, I was so afraid you were going to die. And for me. I had asked you to leave for a reason.”
Fugitive Trail Page 17