Alaskan Christmas Target Page 6

  “If it’s all the same to you,” she said, “I think the best thing for me to do is to figure this out on my own. The longer I stay in Little Bear, the more dangerous it becomes. I appreciate all that you have done, but I don’t want you to be hurt at my expense.”

  “Natasha, maybe I can help you.”

  “I think it would be better if I got out of town alone.” She walked ahead of him.

  He hurried to catch up with her. “Look, I’m law enforcement around here. Maybe I can make some calls.”

  “No. I don’t want to get a bunch of people involved.” She walked even faster until she stepped on the curb. She crossed her arms over her chest and turned to face him. “I can’t risk the information about my new placement being leaked out even if your contacts are trustworthy. What if the wrong eyes see where I’m being moved? It happened once before. Alaska wasn’t my first placement. I can’t take the chance.” She turned and started walking.

  “Where are you going to go?”

  “A bus comes through here, doesn’t it?”

  “Twice a week.”

  “Maybe I can buy a car off of somebody,” she said. “I have some money saved.”

  He wasn’t sure why, but it hurt his feelings that she wanted to leave him. “Come down to the station until we can sort things out.”

  She stopped, shoving her hands into her coat pockets. “What’s to be sorted out? I need a hiding place.” She turned and kept walking.

  “Okay, I’ll help you find a hiding place. I want you to be safe. It’s in my job description to take care of the citizens of Little Bear.”

  She slowed a little in her pace.

  “I have to go down to the station to borrow a trooper vehicle until I can get my truck towed. I’m not sure if it will even run. I can at least give you a ride somewhere. Everyone will see you walking through the town. If that guy comes and starts asking questions, he’ll be able to track you down.”

  Natasha turned to study him, pressing her lips together and looking to the side as if weighing her options. “I’ll wait outside the station.”

  “You do what you think you need to do. I don’t think any of the other troopers will be around anyway. One of them is transporting Gary, and the other is probably home sleeping. I’ll take you out to my house. Maybe you will be able to get in touch with your guy and we can get the ball rolling on getting you to a safe house while they try to set you up somewhere.”

  She looked at him for a long moment while they stood on the sidewalk. Because sunrise was so late this time of year, the town woke up slowly. It would still be a couple hours before sunrise. A car that looked a lot like the hitman’s rolled by slowly.

  Natasha’s body jerked and she pressed a little closer to Landon. He saw the fear in her eyes.

  Landon waved at the driver. “It’s okay. I know him.”

  “You said yourself the hitman might be a local.”

  Landon said, “We have no way of knowing. I never saw his face. I do know there are a lot of cabins around here. Alaska is a good place for someone with ties to the mafia to hide. This guy might have been retired but owed someone some favors.”

  Once again, Landon hurried to catch up with her. He wished that there was something he could do or say to ease her fear.

  “We can’t stay in that trooper vehicle for too long. It’s too recognizable. It makes me an easy target. The hardware store guy knows I’m with you. It’s just a matter of time.” She spoke in a rapid-fire manner and looking straight ahead. Her feet tapped out a rhythm that matched the intensity of her words, in a hurry with intention.

  It seemed to be getting colder. When he tilted his head at the overcast sky, it looked like a storm was on the way.

  “I have another vehicle at my house. I have a snowmobile. We can get away on cross-country skis.” He intended the remark about the skis to be a joke, anything to lighten the tension. More than anything, he wished that she’d trust him more.

  Natasha stopped abruptly. “Please don’t treat this like a joke.”

  Mentally he kicked himself. “I’m sorry. I was just trying to lighten things up. I don’t want you to be so afraid. I’m here to help you.”

  The look on her face devastated him. It was as if a shadow had fallen over her features. He saw in her eyes that she didn’t believe him.

  “I just need to get to someplace safe where that hitman can’t find me.” Her voice was a monotone as she talked, but her eyes were glazed with tears.

  He turned and stared up the street. They were less than a block from the station. He couldn’t begin to understand what she had been through. For the past year, she’d had only herself to rely on. He nodded. “Let’s go get that trooper vehicle. I’ll just give you my car. When you’re able to get set up, communicate through the marshal where you left the car and I’ll make arrangements to get it back.”

  Though he had tried to hide it, she must have picked up on the hurt he was feeling at her rejection of his offer to help. Her voice softened. “That is a really generous offer. Thank you.”

  They arrived at the station house. She waited outside, tucked under the shadow of the eaves, while he went in to get the keys for the only remaining trooper vehicle. As he had assumed, none of the other troopers were present. Angie, the dispatcher, was in a room at the far end of the building on the other side of the two jail cells.

  When he returned outside, he found Natasha waiting on the back end of the building that faced the parking lot by thealley where the vehicles were kept She had tucked in close to the building, probably so that if someone did go down the alley, they wouldn’t notice her.

  Snow had started to swirl out of the sky.

  It tugged at his heart to see her there. So vulnerable and so alone in the world, and so afraid to accept his offer of help. As a lawman, he felt a sense of duty toward her. Maybe she thought she could only rely on herself, but he wasn’t comfortable with just sending her out into the dangerous world that was now her life.

  He stepped up to her and waved the keys. “Let’s get moving. I live about four miles outside of town.”

  She nodded glanced side to side as she stepped away from the building. Once they were both buckled in, Landon rolled through the alley and pulled out onto the street. They’d reached the outskirts of town when he checked his rearview mirror and saw a newer model truck behind him that he didn’t recognize as belonging to one of the locals.

  Not unusual, tourists came through here all the time. And the hitman had been driving a car. Still, he knew that, from now on, he had to assume that the threat on Natasha’s life could come back at them at any moment.

  SEVEN

  As they left the city limits, Natasha could feel her anxiety rising. The snowfall had intensified and the wind was blowing it sideways. The wipers on the SUV worked frantically to keep the window clear. The impending bad weather only added to the fear she was already wrestling with. At least, she should have been on her way out of town by now.

  How long would it be before the hitman came after her again? The hardware store owner knew she was with Landon. Another person had seen them together on the street. As kind as Landon seemed, she knew she couldn’t stay long at his house. The offer of the car was very generous.

  Too, she felt guilty that he had become a target simply by being with her. Landon seemed like a man who had a strong sense of duty, but there was no reason for his life to be in danger, too.

  She put her hand in her pocket, where the tiny wooden nativity still was. God was with her. She could figure this out by herself.

  Landon sped up. He drove for about ten minutes, passing several houses that were far apart, most having barns or airplane hangars.

  “What if your truck isn’t in good enough shape to drive when it gets towed?”

  “Then I can’t loan you the car,” he said. “We’ll come up with another plan. Yo
u can try getting hold of your marshal again. Maybe he has some ideas.” His voice held a note of compassion.

  “If I can’t borrow your car, I’ll figure out something,” she said.

  “How many times do I have to say it? I want to make sure you’re safe. That’s my job. I’m not just kicking you to the curb.”

  He seemed almost irritated with her.

  “I’m sorry you got dragged into this. I never meant for that to happen,” she said.

  Before he could answer, he had to turn his attention to the road as the SUV slid on a patch of black ice. Landon gripped the steering wheel and maneuvered the SUV back into the proper lane just as another vehicle appeared around a curve in the opposite lane.

  Visibility had been reduced to only a few feet.

  “This storm sure came on fast and hard,” he said.

  She turned her head and checked behind her. She could just make out the blurry glow of another set of headlights. She couldn’t see what kind of car it was.

  He turned down a long driveway. Once they were close enough, a small house came into view as they rounded a curve. A shop that had garage doors and a people-size door stood beside the house. The wrecked truck stood in the driveway. His car must be in the shop.

  He peered through the windshield. “I don’t think anybody is going anywhere until this storm lets up.”

  Her spirit deflated. He was right, of course. But that didn’t do anything to dampen the sense of urgency she felt as they both got out of the SUV. The wind caused the snow to feel like a thousand tiny swords stabbing at her exposed skin.

  No lights were on in the house. He placed a hand on the middle of her back. “Come on, let’s get inside before we freeze.”

  Natasha took a quick backward glance down the road they had just driven. She couldn’t see more than ten feet or so. Even if that car behind them had been the hitman’s, he wouldn’t be so obvious as to follow them down a private road right away.

  Landon dug the keys out of his pocket and ushered her into his house. She stepped into an open area that had a small kitchen and living room. An overstuffed chair with a pile of books beside it stood close to the woodstove. There was a couch pushed off in a corner. The stack of folded clothes that covered it suggested it wasn’t used for sitting anymore.

  Landon hurried into the living room. “Let me get the fire going and warm it up in here. It’s been hours since I was home.”

  He disappeared through a back door and returned a moment later holding several pieces of wood.

  “I can help you haul the logs.” She hurried across the room.

  “That would be great,” he said, leading her to the back door.

  She stepped out the door onto a porch where the wood was stacked. Despite the protection of the porch, the wind seemed to be howling around her. She scanned the trees close enough to see through the driving snow. Her heartbeat kicked up a notch. The hitman would be hindered by the storm, too, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try to get at her.

  “Are there any other roads that lead into your property?” she asked.

  “Yes. There’s a road that goes by the back of my house.” Landon placed a log in the crook of his elbow. He followed the line of her gaze. “You know, maybe it would be best if you went back inside and stayed there for now.”

  “You’re probably right.” She hurried inside and sat in the easy chair. Landon was right about the storm. It would be foolish to try to drive anywhere until it let up, but staying here made her feel like a sitting duck.

  Landon came inside and put kindling into the woodstove. Once it caught fire, he stacked the smaller logs in a teepee around the rising flames. Within minutes, the fire was crackling. Landon closed the door on the woodstove. “It’ll warm up in no time.”

  Feeling numb from her inability to do anything, Natasha managed a nod. He rose from where he’d been crouching to give her shoulder a squeeze that was probably meant to be supportive as he walked past the chair.

  Heat started to come off the stove and circulate in the room while she watched the flames dance.

  Landon had stepped across the room and opened a drawer. He pulled his gun out of a utility belt and put the clip in the bottom. He was preparing for the worst, too.

  She rose. “Do you have a personal gun I could use?”

  He sat his semiautomatic down on the table closest to the door. “Look, I know you’re scared, but a lot of times, giving a gun to someone without experience is a bad idea.”

  “I know how to handle a weapon. I used to be a police officer.”

  He didn’t answer right away. She was sure a million questions were raging through his head. Finally, he nodded. “Okay.”

  He disappeared down a hallway. She was grateful he hadn’t asked any more questions. Though she was sure the longer she stayed with him, the more he would want to know.

  The photos on the wall caught her attention. There were pictures of Landon posing by a kayak and another of him holding the fish he’d caught. Several of the images featured him with people who were probably siblings or cousins, judging from the resemblance. Another photo, where Landon looked maybe ten years younger, showed him on cross-country skis with a dog beside him. There were three photos of him with a blond woman at restaurants, outside this house and beside a trailhead sign. The woman’s soft smile seemed to radiate hope and love. That must have been his wife.

  Landon returned, holding a gun. She looked away from the photo of Landon with his wife, feeling like she had peered in on something very private. She needed to be very tight-lipped about her life and yet his was on full display.

  He handed her the Glock and two magazines. “I have an extra clip for it. Already loaded.”

  She jammed the magazine into the pistol and set it beside his gun. The other loaded magazine she put in her pocket. “Thank you for trusting me about the gun.” The weight of the loaded magazine reminded her that she was not safe yet.

  He nodded. His gaze rested on her long enough for her to feel uncomfortable. She took a step back, glancing at the wall of photos and then at him. She wanted to know more about his wife and his family, even what had happened to the dog in the photo. She wasn’t sure what to ask that didn’t sound like prying.

  “Those photographs are just gathering dust. They were all taken a lifetime ago. I should remove them from the wall.” A note of sadness seemed to permeate his voice.

  Her own heart squeezed tight. The longing to share who she was and what she had been through was almost overwhelming. She understood the chasm of the loss he’d experienced. “I think you should dust them off and keep them on the wall. It’s the story of your life, right?” She hoped her words offered some level of comfort.

  “It’s the story of the life I used to have.” Landon turned toward the kitchen. “You must be hungry. Can I fix you something to eat?”

  It was clear he didn’t want to talk anymore about the past. As if on cue, her stomach growled. “I’m starving actually. That sounds great.” She hadn’t eaten since she’d been on her shift at the diner.

  He opened the refrigerator and then the cupboards. He stopped and gripped the countertop. His expression hardened as he pressed his lips together and shook his head. “You know, you’re the first person besides my siblings to come into this house since Maggie died.”

  She stepped toward him. He turned his head and looked at her. “A loss like that changes everything,” Natasha said. The expression softened as the anguish in his features seemed to melt away. This time, his gaze was less probing. She saw warmth in his eyes.

  “Guess you understand what it’s like to have your life pulled out from under you. You don’t even get to keep photos of who you used to be.”

  She nodded, feeling an intense connection to him.

  He threw up his hands, breaking the power of the moment between them. “Enough of this gloominess
.” There was a look of mischief in his eyes. “Have you ever had a fried bologna sandwich?”

  “Can’t say that I have.”

  “Well then, you are in for a treat.”

  “Can I borrow your phone? I’m going to try to get hold of the marshal.”

  He walked over to where he’d hung his coat across a chair and got it for her. When she dialed the memorized number, it didn’t even ring. Maybe the phone was dead. Maybe the other marshal had left for the holidays. Maybe the storm was affecting service.

  “Nothing?” Landon asked.

  She shook her head.

  Natasha watched as Landon pulled bread out of the cupboard and bologna and cheese from the refrigerator. As he set the cast-iron pan on the stove, she found herself wishing that she had taken the time to get to know him better in the year that Little Bear had been her home. He was a man with character and pain that ran deep.

  Once the storm let up, she would never see him again.

  * * *

  After clicking on the burner, Landon poured a little oil in the cast-iron pan. “My brother and sister and I used to make these all the time.”

  Natasha entered the kitchen and leaned against the counter, watching him. “Very gourmet.”

  “When you live out in the middle of Nowhere, Alaska, and getting food supplies is a once-a-month event, bologna is one of the protein-rich foods that keeps for a long time.” The grease in the pan began to sputter. He lifted the pan and angled it side to side. “You want to throw some bread in the toaster?”

  “Sure.” She turned, scanning the counter for the toaster, and then stepped sideways to grab the loaf of bread. She popped two slices in the toaster. He separated the bologna, which sizzled when he tossed the slices into the pan.

  The interaction had a ring of familiarity to it that made his heart ache all over again. He and Maggie had spent endless hours in the kitchen cooking much more elaborate meals than fried bologna sandwiches. He hadn’t counted on the rush of grief just having another woman in his house would cause after two years.