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Alaskan Christmas Target Page 2
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“I’m going to get out first and then you can exit the car.” He pulled the keys from the ignition. “Don’t try anything.”
“I’ll do as you say, Gary.” The best strategy seemed to be to appear cooperative and to look for a chance to escape with Ezra. “Just don’t hurt Ezra.”
“I would never do anything bad to my boy.”
Gary had been so indignant, she dared not point out that kidnapping at gunpoint could be traumatizing to a child. The man was not thinking clearly—or not thinking at all.
Just go along with him until you have a chance to save yourself and the boy.
Even though Gary was armed, she had been a beat cop in Boston. Though her skills were rusty, she’d had enough training to take down an armed felon. All she needed was an opportunity. She prayed for a moment of inattention or distraction. The tricky part would be getting Ezra to safety. The boy showed a loyalty to his father that might make him reluctant to leave him.
It wasn’t a bond she understood, but she’d seen it a thousand times. Kids in safe foster homes who ran back to their abusive biological parents. The bond between parent and child was a hard one to break even when it was not healthy.
Gary stepped out of the car, keeping the gun trained on her the whole time. She peered through the passenger window, offering Ezra a faint smile as if to say, I know this is so confusing to you.
When the US Marshal had set her up in this town, he had advised her not to form strong bonds with anyone. Though she’d remained guarded and had not given up many details about her life, the friendship with Ezra’s mom and Betsy had just happened. In the early morning hours when the diner was not usually busy, she brought Ezra his toast and sausage. It wasn’t just that Ezra reminded her of the nephew she would never see again, she’d grown fond of his sweet nature.
Gary waved the gun, indicating that she needed to get out of the car. She pushed open the driver’s-side door. Though she had on a sweater and long johns under jeans, the chilly December air permeated her skin.
Gary pointed with his free hand while he kept the gun aimed at Natasha. “Now we’re going to head down that way.” He indicated a path that wasn’t really a trail. “Ezra, stay beside me.” He looked directly at Natasha. “You walk ahead of me.”
Natasha fell into place and headed down the hill. Within minutes, the harbor with its boats and planes came into view. Though still some distance off, it didn’t look like anyone was around. Gary had made her walk in front so that if she could tried to run away, she’d have to leave Ezra behind. He must have known she wouldn’t do that. And if she did start running, he could shoot her in the back before she found cover.
They entered a cluster of trees that obstructed her view of the harbor.
“We need to go faster,” Gary said. “Pick up the pace.”
She went from a brisk walk to a jog. She could hear Gary and Ezra’s footsteps pounding behind her. Her breath came out in puffy clouds. The trees cleared and she had an unobstructed view of the harbor once again. Still no sign of anyone. It was a small harbor. Two planes, a fishing boat and two recreational boats.
“Dad, I can’t keep up. I need to catch my breath.”
“We’re almost there, son.” Gary was a little out of breath, too.
She glanced over her shoulder as she slowed down. Gary still had the gun pointed at her. As far as she could see, there was no one else in the harbor. No one anywhere. Gary had taken them on a small detour. Would the trooper be able to make it here on foot if he was not injured? Was he even alive?
A light snow swirled out of the sky as they stepped on the wooden planks of the pier, which had some icy patches.
Gary cupped his son’s arm. “You see that plane over there? That is our plane. You remember how I taught you to start a plane?”
Ezra nodded.
“I need you to go do that for me. And then I want you to sit in the copilot seat and wait for me, you hear?”
Fear gripped Natasha’s heart. What did Gary have in mind to do with her?
“Okay, Dad.” Ezra walked toward the plane. He gave a backward glance, locking eyes with Natasha.
She saw the twisted anguish in the boy’s expression. Maybe it was loyalty to his dad that made him do as he was asked and maybe it was fear of his father’s anger. Most likely it was a mixture of both.
Gary stepped in between Natasha and Ezra so she couldn’t make eye contact with the boy. “Go on now, son.”
Gary turned his back to his son and drew his attention to her. The gun was still pointed at her chest. “I need you to turn your back toward me.” His words were ice-cold.
A moment later, the propellers of the plane started to whir. With Ezra inside the plane, there was less possibility of him being be hurt. If Gary got on that plane, he could take Ezra and never be heard from again. This was her opportunity, her only chance to prevent that from happening.
“I said turn around and keep your hands up where I can see them.”
Natasha did not move. She looked all around at the other boats and then at the forest close to the harbor. Help was not coming. It was up to her to protect Ezra, and it might come at the expense of her life.
She took in a prayer-filled breath and lunged at Gary. His finger covered the trigger, the gun barrel aimed at her chest.
* * *
Landon bolted from the trees. When his car would no longer run due to a bullet through the engine, he’d taken an educated guess that Gary would eventually show up at the harbor since the spur road he’d turned onto would not allow him to escape. Landon had run all the way there.
He had some distance to cover before he could get to the pier and he was out of breath already. He didn’t see the boy anywhere. He watched in shock as the waitress from the diner took Gary down in two quick moves. A blow to the stomach, a kick to the back of the knees. The gun went off in the struggle though Gary lost his grip on it. He jumped to his feet and dove at the woman, preparing to put his hands around her neck. She angled out of his way before he could grab her. His hand formed a fist, and he punched her in the stomach. She doubled over. He turned to retrieve his gun.
Landon’s feet crunched across the half-melted snow. He drew his weapon just as Gary was about to take aim at the waitress. “Alaska State Trooper. Back off from the lady and put your hands in the air. Drop the gun.”
Gary seemed to know he was defeated. He lifted his hands in surrender letting the gun drop to the wooden pier.
The waitress dove for the gun. She had nerves of steel and quick reaction time. At the very least, she had some self-defense training. Though the woman had been in Little Bear at least a year, Landon really didn’t know much about her. Any time he’d come into the diner, she’d seemed quiet and aloof.
The propeller on the plane stopped whirring.
Landon continued to advance, keeping the gun trained on Gary.
The window on the plane slid open. “Daddy, what’s happening?”
Gary pressed his lips together, and his forehead furrowed. “It’s okay, son.”
“Ezra, stay in the plane,” Natasha said.
“Am I going with my dad?”
“No, I think it would be better if you stayed with your mom and grandma. Besides, who is going to eat the last piece of peach pie with me on Sundays if you aren’t there?”
“Hands behind your back.” Landon moved in to cuff Gary.
Gary leaned toward Natasha. “This is all your fault. A father has a right to be with his son. You are going to pay.” His words were filled with murderous rage.
Another trooper vehicle came into view as it rolled down the hill toward the pier. Trooper Deb Johnson got out. “Looks like I missed all the action.”
“Not quite,” Landon said. “Get this guy secured in the back of your vehicle.”
Deb took Gary into custody.
Landon walk
ed over to the plane to help Ezra out.
Clearly upset, Natasha paced the pier, running her hand through her long auburn hair. She finally turned and walked toward Landon and Ezra. “I really need to get back to the diner. I want to finish out my shift.”
Once he had Ezra out of the plane, Landon put his hand on the boy’s shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. He then turned his attention to Natasha. “You’ve had quite a shock. Are you sure you want to go back to the diner?”
She nodded. “I need the money. I don’t want to sit alone at home all tied up in knots.” She offered Ezra a smile. Maybe part of her motivation for wanting to return to the diner was to make sure the boy was okay.
“I’ll take you both back to the diner, but I don’t want to transport you and Ezra in the same vehicle as Gary. There should be another trooper here in a few minutes.”
“That’s fine.” Natasha nodded and shifted her focus to Ezra. “I know this is so confusing for you. We’ll get you back to your mom and grandma. They’ll be so happy.”
The boy let out a small cry and then ran toward Natasha, who took him into an embrace. She made soothing sounds while he cried.
Landon felt a stab to his own heart over all the child had been put through at such a young age.
The second trooper vehicle came down the road, pulling off to the side so the one transporting Gary could get up the hill.
“Come on, Ezra. I’ll stay with you,” Natasha said. She walked the boy toward the trooper vehicle, gripping his shoulder.
Landon kept pace with them, opening the back door so they could get inside. He got into the front passenger seat.
Russ, a man in his forties with graying sideburns, gave Landon a nod. “Sorry I couldn’t be here for all the excitement.”
Landon buckled his seat belt. “We handled it.” He gave a nod toward Natasha, who seemed focused on making sure Ezra was okay. “I know you got here as fast as you could.”
Russ pressed the gas and drove forward so he could turn around.
Natasha spoke in a soft voice to Ezra. “You’ll be okay, kiddo. Grandma might even let you have one of her homemade doughnuts.”
Ezra nodded. “I like grandma’s doughnuts.” His voice sounded like he might start crying again.
She brushed her hand over the top of his head. “I’m so sorry. I know it doesn’t make sense...what happened here today.”
“What’s going to happen to my dad?” The boy’s voice was filled with anguish.
Landon turned sideways as Natasha glanced in his direction.
“Your father needs some help,” Landon told him. “I know you love him, but what he did today wasn’t right.”
They drove past Landon’s defunct trooper car; he was going to have to arrange for a tow. Russ made his way back to the main road and drove for several miles, the rest of the journey consisting of small talk between him and Russ.
When they pulled into the parking lot of the diner, a news van was there. A female reporter and a cameraman were standing beside the van.
“What’s with those guys?” Natasha asked. “How did they get here so fast?” She seemed even more nervous at seeing the news van.
“Guess they must have heard the banter on the police band radio,” Russ said.
“They probably want to interview the citizen who helped save Ezra,” Landon guessed.
“Me? No, I don’t want to be on camera.” She grew even more agitated.
With a glance at the news van, Natasha leaned toward Ezra. “Come on, let’s get you back to your mom and grandma. They’re going to be so glad to see you.” She helped him out of the car.
Betsy and Judy came running out to embrace the boy. The crew filmed the reunion and then the female reporter stepped up to Natasha. The tall blonde pointed a microphone at her. “You must be the hero waitress who saved Ezra.”
Natasha took a step back. “It really was the trooper’s work.”
“Going with the boy into such danger is pretty heroic,” the reporter said. “What were you thinking?”
“I just didn’t want Ezra to be hurt or kidnapped by his dad.” Natasha turned her attention toward the cameraman. “I don’t want to be filmed.”
“This is a big story for a little town,” the reporter said.
“Please, I don’t want my face on camera.” Natasha seemed to grow even more upset.
“This is a live feed. The story had already gone out,” the reporter noted.
“You mean showing my face.” Natasha seemed to be almost in a panic.
“Yes, we did an intro before you got here. The story will be all over social media. People want to hear your side of this story.”
Natasha continued to shake her head.
The reporter gave the cameraman the signal to cut the camera. She turned to face Natasha. “You deserve some recognition. We would like to get a shot of all of you together, hugging, and I can do my wrap-up with that in the background.”
Natasha stepped to one side. “You know, the real heroes here are our troopers. You should interview them.” She turned and hurried inside the diner.
The female reporter looked at Russ and then at Landon. Landon pointed to Russ. “I’m sure he’d be glad to make a statement.” He wasn’t crazy about reporters, either, but this one had seemed to send Natasha into a tailspin.
The reporter held the microphone toward him. “But he wasn’t the one who captured Gary Tharp. It was you and the waitress working together, right?”
He needed to get a statement from Natasha and wanted to find out why she was acting so strange. With the reporter trailing after him, he walked past the reunited family as they hugged and cried. Landon reached for the front door of the diner.
A car with Natasha at the wheel came around from the back, where the employees parked, and pulled out of the lot and sped down the highway.
Landon shook his head. She was sure in an all-fired hurry to leave after she’d insisted she needed to get back to the diner and finish her shift. Almost like she was afraid of something.
Something was definitely going on with her. Being filmed seemed to set her off. Most people didn’t want to be on the news because they were hiding, maybe from an abusive partner or because they were in trouble with the law. He wondered which one it was with Natasha.
THREE
Natasha raced down the highway toward the little cabin that she’d rented for the last year. She hit her blinker and turned onto the side road that led to her cabin, which was tucked back in the trees, out of view. How long did she have before the mafia saw the news story and came after her? Hours? Days? Weeks? Maybe she was safe. Maybe she wasn’t. She couldn’t take that chance.
She grabbed her purse off the car seat, grateful to see that Betsy had put her phone back inside it. She hurried up the walkway, unlocked the front door and entered her living room. Her mind was racing. She pulled a suitcase out of a closet and carried it to her bedroom. While she tossed in clothes, she grabbed her phone and dialed a number she’d memorized.
It rang twice before someone picked up; a woman with a chipper-sounding voice. “Hello?”
Not what she expected. “I’m trying to reach US Marshal Henderson. This is still his contact number, isn’t it?”
“The marshal is up north, dealing with a prisoner transport,” the woman said.
Natasha took in a deep breath to quell the rising panic. “When will he be back?”
“Unknown. Can I pass on a message? He has limited phone service and arranged for all his calls to be forwarded to me until he gets back. I’m a US Marshal, as well.”
“No, I need to speak directly to him.”
Marshal Henderson had helped Natasha settle into her new life. She trusted him, but no one else. Her first placement with a new identity hadn’t worked out because of a leak, the source of which was never discovered. The mafia
had snitches in all branches of law enforcement. She had to be careful. She had no idea who this woman was.
She’d been put in the witness security program after witnessing a mafia boss kill a politician. The murder had occurred in a secluded garden where a fundraiser was taking place. Leo Tan Creti, the mafia boss, usually hired out his dirty work. Strangling the DA who was trying to clean up the city had been a crime of opportunity for Leo. He hadn’t counted on Natasha being a witness.
The woman’s voice brought Natasha back to the present reality of how vulnerable she was. “Is there something I can do to help you? If you are in danger, we need to address that.”
Because the mafia had such long arms which extended into law enforcement, she wasn’t sure who she could trust. Police departments had corrupt cops and cops that could be bought, as did federal agencies. After her testimony had sent Leo away, a bounty had been put on her head. Leo Tan Creti could give orders from a jail cell almost as easily as when he was on the street. She placed her hand over her racing heart. Marshal Henderson was the only one she trusted. “There is no way to reach him?”
“Like I said, cell service is sketchy up there. He’ll check in when he can. Are you sure there is not anything I can tell him?” The woman sounded concerned.
“No, thank you. I’ll try back later.”
Natasha hung up and threw more things in her suitcase. She would need to ditch this phone. The number might be traceable. She had three throw-away phones stored in a drawer. She tossed those into her suitcase. She’d been prepared for this day from the moment Henderson had set her up in her new life.
Normally with WITSEC, a member of local law enforcement would be informed of a participant’s status. Marshal Henderson had advised against it in Natasha’s case because Little Bear was such a small community. There was too much danger of an officer becoming loose lipped after drinking too much, he’d said, or just spilling the beans for whatever reason.
She stopped for a moment and stared at what she’d placed in her suitcase. The three burner phones sat on top of her sweaters and other cold-weather gear, and some random clothes. She’d been in full-on frantic mode ever since the cameraman had pointed the news camera at her. She needed to be rational and come up with a plan. She could drive to Anchorage and hide out until Marshal Henderson got back.