Abducted in Alaska Page 4

  Layke stood and circled the small lunchroom. “Can you describe him?”

  The boy scrunched his face.

  Hannah smiled. “Did the man have dark or light skin?”

  “Light.”

  “Okay, what about the color of his hair?”

  She knew how to translate his questions. Good. He never had been good around children. They made him nervous.

  Gabe contorted his face. “It was spiky.”

  Hannah stiffened and glanced at Layke.

  What about that description had her on edge? He moved back to the chair and sat. He’d ask her about it later. He needed to request Corporal Bakker to get a forensic artist here to draw a sketch. The vague description would at least give them a start.

  Gabe yawned.

  “Layke, we need to get him—”

  Pop! Pop! Pop!

  Layke bolted out of his chair and unleashed his weapon. “Get down!”

  Hannah pulled Gabe off the couch onto the floor and threw her body over his, shielding him.

  Screams filled the corridor.

  The detachment was under attack.

  FOUR

  Hannah wrapped her arms around Gabe’s shaking body. His whimpers tore her apart. This boy had wormed his way into her heart...already. She vowed to do anything to protect him from these unknown assailants even if it meant putting a target on her back. She didn’t care. He was worth the danger. Their pasts were too much alike for her to ignore this sweet boy. Memories of the group home she had lived in, foster care families and bullies slammed her back to her unstable childhood. A place she had locked into the recesses of her mind and thrown away the key. With Gabe’s news, it threatened to spill out, but she didn’t have time to deal with prior hurts. Besides, in the end her story had turned out okay even if she had to go through many valleys to reach her mountaintop family.

  “Shh...it’s okay. We’ve got you.” Hannah uttered a silent prayer asking God to watch over them.

  “They found me.” Gabe’s lip quivered.

  Layke raised his gun and turned the doorknob. “I’m going to check it out. Stay here. Lock the door. Only open it for me. You hear?”

  “Yes.”

  He eased his way out the door.

  Hannah jumped up and turned the lock. Lord, help the enemy not to find us here. She pressed her ear to the door to see if she could hear anything. A crash sounded in the distance. Were they getting closer? Was it the man with the spiked hair again? She pulled out her Beretta and held it at her side. She wouldn’t be caught unaware. Gabe had to be protected.

  Footsteps thudded outside in the hall. The knob twisted but the lock held. Someone shook the handle.

  Hannah gasped and jumped to the right of the door and put her finger to her lips, indicating for Gabe to be quiet. Her heart ricocheted. She willed it to be silent for fear of being heard.

  “We know you’re here somewhere, Hannah Morgan,” the voice boomed. “You might as well come out and bring the boy. He’s ours.”

  How did they know her name and where to find them?

  Gabe whimpered beside the couch.

  She rushed over to him and pulled him back into her arms. “Shh,” she whispered.

  “You’ll pay a high price if you don’t give in to our demands,” the man shouted. “We know all about you. You can’t hide.”

  What?

  Gunfire erupted somewhere in the detachment.

  A tremor slunk down Hannah’s neck and threatened to engulf her entire body. Was Layke okay?

  Please, Lord. Bring him back to us safely.

  Another crash was followed by rushing footsteps. Close. Closer. She held her breath and raised her weapon toward the door.

  The wall’s clock ticked, reminding her of precious time.

  Someone rapped on the door.

  “Hannah, it’s me. Open up.”

  Layke.

  She jumped up, turned the lock and yanked open the door.

  He rushed in and closed it. “We need to go.”

  “How? I heard the gunfire. They’re too close. He could get hurt.”

  “I created a diversion with the other constables and Elias. The culprits are headed in another direction. We’re going out the back. I found this oversize coat in a locker.” He wrapped the parka around Gabe and picked him up. “We’re gonna get you to safety, sport.”

  Hannah grabbed her coat and threw it on, pushing away the fear. Her adrenaline kicked in and she gripped her weapon tighter. “Ready.”

  “We need to stay really quiet, Gabe. Can you do that?”

  The boy nodded and latched on to Layke’s neck.

  “Hang on and don’t let go.” Layke turned to her. “Follow me and watch for anyone sneaking up behind us.”

  “Got it.” She eased the door open and looked both ways. “Clear.”

  Layke held Gabe with one arm and lifted his weapon with the other, stepping out into the hall. He headed left toward the rear of the detachment.

  She followed, raised her gun and turned constantly to ensure they weren’t being chased.

  Shots were fired in the opposite direction. Good, Layke’s diversion worked.

  Within seconds, they had reached the back door.

  Layke peered out. “I don’t see anyone, but they could be lurking in the shadows. We’re going to make a run for it.” He holstered his weapon and pulled out a key fob. “Got these from Mrs. Bakker. We’re taking Constable Antoine’s Suburban since it’s parked out back. I need you to cover me. Have you been trained in defensive tactics?”

  She gritted her teeth. Did he not think her capable of giving protection?

  “Of course.” Her curt tone surprised even herself, but she was tired of having to prove her abilities. Still, she’d never come across this type of lethal assailant in her five-year stint with the CBSA. She’d seen a lot on the job but hadn’t had to protect a boy from something this powerful. You can do this. Did she doubt herself?

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to imply anything. Let’s go.” He pushed the door open and stepped outside. “Hurry.” He rushed toward the vehicle.

  Hannah raised her weapon and followed him into the subzero temperatures. The wind bit her face and she winced but ignored it, keeping her focus on the task of protecting the two males suddenly thrust into her life. She ran after him as she pointed her 9 mm in different directions and looked for gunmen. Beams from the lone streetlight bounced on the fresh-fallen snow as more fell around them. The dim lighting made it difficult for her to locate any assailants, but so far they appeared to be in the clear.

  Layke placed Gabe in the back seat. “Buckle him in.” He opened the driver’s door and jumped in, starting the vehicle.

  She holstered her weapon, climbed in beside the boy and fastened his seat belt.

  Layke pulled the Suburban out of the parking lot without the lights on and took a back road.

  “Do you know where you’re going?” she asked.

  “Nope, just didn’t want to go out the front.”

  Good point.

  An idea popped into her mind. “A friend of mine has a cabin in the woods about thirty miles from here. We could hide there.”

  “We can’t put her in danger.”

  “She’s not there. She left yesterday for a trip to Hawaii.”

  Layke hesitated.

  She could almost tell what he was thinking. “I know where the key is. She told me I was welcome to go there if I ever needed to get away. I think this qualifies, don’t you?”

  “Definitely.” He peered in the rearview mirror. “Looks like we got away undetected. That will make them angry and they won’t give up. Which direction do we take?”

  She guided him through the streets to get them out of the small town toward the cabin.

  Moments later, he pulled onto the AlC
an Highway. Thankfully, the road was somewhat deserted. Most residents had probably made their way home from work and were settled in from the winter elements. Too bad they weren’t.

  The snow intensified and the vehicle fishtailed, swerving toward the ditch.

  “Hang on!” Layke yelled.

  Gabe screamed.

  She pulled him closer as if that would protect him from the dangerous icy highway.

  If it wasn’t gunmen out to get them, it was Mother Nature.

  They couldn’t catch a break.

  Layke righted the vehicle back onto the road as two headlights blocked their path like a speeding train.

  The car headed directly toward them, locked in an icy skid.

  * * *

  Layke ignored Gabe’s scream and jerked the wheel left, catching the tire in a rut of ice and snow deposited by a snowplow. The Suburban lurched back toward the oncoming car.

  Hannah gasped.

  The car inched closer as if time passed in slow motion. Layke held his breath waiting for impact.

  At the last moment, the driver lay on the horn and swerved around them.

  Layke let out a swoosh of air. He pulled them back onto the right side of the highway.

  “Good driving, Constable,” Hannah said.

  “Thanks.” He’d had lots of practice on the deadly winter roads along the Banff Highway near his home in Calgary.

  “God kept us safe.”

  He glanced over his shoulder at her. Did she really believe that?

  “What? You don’t believe in God?” she asked.

  Did his face reveal how he felt about someone he couldn’t see or touch? The same someone who hadn’t intervened whenever he’d supposedly disobeyed his mother and faced the wrath of her fist? He turned his eyes back to the snowy road. No, he wouldn’t let God in his life. Now or ever.

  “I don’t.” He’d leave it at that.

  “Why?”

  “God loves you, Mr. Layke.” Gabe’s soft voice boomed in his ear.

  Not him, too. Layke was surrounded.

  “That’s right, Gabe,” Hannah said. “He loves all of us. No matter what.”

  He needed to change the subject. He wasn’t willing to go there. “How much longer to the cabin?”

  “About twenty minutes,” Hannah replied.

  Great. That was an eternity if they wanted to talk about God. He had to steer the conversation in a different direction. “Sport, what do you want to be when you grow up?”

  “A brave policeman like you.”

  Layke gulped and pushed the unexpected emotions away. This boy knew how to capture his hardened heart. When had Layke become so closed?

  You know when.

  A memory surfaced.

  Mommy, why can’t I go with the other boys to the park? His six-year-old mind hadn’t been able to comprehend why his mom hated him so much.

  Her hazel eyes had narrowed, flashing like a flame spitting in a bonfire. Little boy, you will do as your mother says.

  But all the other kids get to go. Why not me?

  She’d rushed over and slapped him across the face. Hard.

  His hand had flown to his stinging cheek as he toppled backward over the chair. Tears followed and his breath came in raspy spurts.

  Don’t be a baby. You are such a spoiled little—

  A blaring horn wrenched him back to the present.

  “Watch out, Layke!”

  He pulled the vehicle back into the right lane. Stupid!

  The memory of the first time she had hit him had caused his concentration to waver. He couldn’t let that happen again. His mother had brought enough pain into his life. He didn’t need to add to it by having an accident.

  “How much longer?” he asked.

  “Almost at the turnoff—it’s hard to see in this snowstorm.”

  She wasn’t wrong. The snow would not let up. He turned the wipers to full speed and still had problems seeing through the fat white flakes plaguing them. He rubbed at the condensation forming on the inside of the windshield. Great, as if his view wasn’t already blocked enough. He bit his lip to stop him from uttering a word he’d later regret, especially in front of the boy.

  “There!” Hannah leaned in between the seats and pointed left. “That’s the road to take.”

  He flipped on the signal and pulled on to the snowy road. “How far? This road is not in good condition.” He swerved to miss a mound of snow.

  “Five minutes.”

  “I’m hungry,” Gabe said.

  The boy’s whine matched Layke’s frame of mind.

  “I hear ya, sport. Me, too.” He glanced over his shoulder. “I hope there’s food at this cabin.”

  “Should be. It’s winterized, as she comes out here most weekends, so I’m sure we’ll find something.”

  The deserted road wove around a bend. Layke held the wheel tight to keep the vehicle steady. The only light came from the Suburban. Not a soul in sight.

  Good. They could hide.

  Ten minutes later Hannah pointed again. “That’s it.”

  A driveway sat off to the right. He turned up the incline, plowing through the white mess. He held his breath and willed the tires to keep moving. They couldn’t get stuck now.

  Snow-covered spruce branches drooped low from the intense weight and created a winter wonderland path to the cabin in the woods. The tires spun but quickly gained traction. The small timber structure came into view. A veranda wrapped around the cabin, trees swallowing it on all sides as if sentinels protecting its occupants.

  He only hoped that was true.

  Layke pulled in front and shut off the engine. “Safe and sound.”

  “Thank the good Lord,” Hannah said.

  Not again. If He was good, He would never have allowed these children to be taken in the first place. He opened his door. “Let’s get inside out of this wretched weather.”

  They climbed from the vehicle and up the stairs.

  Hannah moved a heavy flowerpot and produced a key. “Told you.”

  He crossed his arms. “Isn’t that a little too much of a cliché? This isn’t TV.”

  She shrugged and opened the front door.

  They stomped the snow from their boots and moved farther inside.

  Hannah removed her footwear and headed toward a hall. “I’ll turn on the propane tank to get the heat going. You start the fire. It’s in the living room.”

  Layke helped Gabe take off his boots and did the same. “Keep your coat on for now.” He stepped through the wooden archway into a hunter’s oasis.

  A brick fireplace sat in the center of the far wall. Timber beams lined the ceiling with plank wood walls on all sides, creating a rustic feel. Two plush chairs with an end table in between sat in the middle of a large window. A wooden-legged coffee table with a glass top rested in the center on top of a multicolored woven Aztec rug.

  “So cool!” Gabe came up behind him.

  “Indeed it is, sport.”

  Layke eyed the wood piled next to the hearth. Odd they’d have propane as well as a wood-burning fireplace. He opened the screen and placed kindling on the iron rack. After finding matches on the mantel, he struck one and lit the wood.

  “Did you learn that in Scouts?” Gabe asked.

  He pursed his lips. “No, I taught myself.”

  “That’s what we were learning before the bad men came.”

  Layke caught the fear in Gabe’s clouded eyes. He squeezed his shoulder. “You’re safe here.”

  “You promise?”

  Layke sighed inwardly. “Yes.”

  Another promise he’d probably regret.

  The kindling caught and a spark spit upward. Layke placed a small log on top.

  Gabe knelt in front of the fire and held out his hands. “Can
we roast marshmallows?”

  Layke tousled the boy’s curls. “We’ll see if there’s any in the kitchen.”

  “What’s in the kitchen?” Hannah eyed his fire. “Nice. I can feel the heat already.”

  Gabe jumped up and hugged her legs. “We’re gonna roast marshmallows!”

  Hannah raised her brow at Layke.

  “If we have any,” he said.

  “I’ll go see what I can find to eat.” Hannah walked into the kitchen and rustled around. She returned within minutes holding a can of beans and had something hidden behind her back. “Beans okay? They’re maple flavored.”

  Gabe turned up his nose.

  Layke did the same. “I guess we don’t have much of a choice.”

  Hannah’s blue eyes twinkled in the light. She had also let her hair down. It fell around her shoulders in soft red curls.

  He couldn’t help but stare at her intoxicating beauty.

  She waved something in front of his face. “Earth to Layke.”

  Caught in the act.

  He cleared his throat as Gabe giggled.

  “Look what I have?” She pulled a bag of marshmallows out from behind her back.

  Gabe jumped up and squealed. “Yay!”

  “Looks like you’ll get your wish, Gabe.”

  “I’ll go start supper and then later we can roast these.” Hannah smiled at Layke and walked back into the kitchen.

  He stood. “I gotta make some calls. You stay here.”

  He roamed down the hall in search of a room to call the names Murray had sent him earlier. Hopefully they had some information that would help.

  Fifteen minutes later, he’d spoken to all but one and he’d left a message for the father to call him back. Unfortunately, the other parents didn’t know anything and only pleaded with him to find their sons. Alive.

  He plunked himself on the bed and rubbed his chest, the weight of the case sitting heavy with the pressure to bring it to a close.

  He needed to talk to Corporal Bakker again, so he keyed in the man’s number.

  “Bakker here.”

  “It’s Layke. Can you get a forensic artist to Beaver Creek? We need to see if we can get a composite of the man Gabe saw.”

  “I’ll send in a request right now, but the nearest one is five hours away in Whitehorse. Where are you?”