Lynette Eason

Classified Christmas Mission


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and passed them to her. “I’ve got to address this. I guess they decided to check the scene in spite of my canceling the call. Head to the cabin. I’ll be there shortly.”

      “You won’t mention us?”

      He sighed. “No, I won’t mention you. But we’re going to have a long talk when I get there.”

      She nodded. “Fine. Thank you. And if you can avoid having them find the car just yet, I would appreciate it.”

      He drew in a breath. “All right. I’ll do my best.”

      “I just need to buy some time. I know someone will see the car sooner or later, I just need later, okay?”

      “Like I said, I’ll try. Watch out for that sedan. Keep the same plan. Stay in these woods and cross the street before you get to the house. Cut through the beachy area of the lake and come up to the back of the house. There should be a key under the turtle in the flower bed.”

      “That’s what I was counting on.” She touched Sam’s hand and he let her begin to lead him out of the woods and, hopefully, toward safety.

      Lance watched them until they disappeared over the next rise then down the hill. Then he turned and made his way back across the street to answer the questions as best he could. He pulled his phone from the clip on his belt and saw he had six missed calls. All from Clay, Amber’s brother. He pressed the button to dial the man’s number and lifted the phone to his ear. Clay answered on the first ring. “Are you all right?”

      “Yes. I came across an accident and stopped to help.” All truth. He wouldn’t lie to his boss.

      “You need me to come out there?” Clay obviously hadn’t heard about the wreck—or the fact that Lance had called for backup and then canceled it. Hopefully, by the time that was revealed, Amber would have agreed to bring her brother in on whatever was going on with her.

      “No, but I’m going to be a while. Fortunately, there aren’t any injuries or fatalities, but you know how it goes. This is going to take some time.”

      “Right. How’s the weather holding for you?”

      Lance looked at the sky and the white ground around him. “The snow’s stopped falling but the temperature hasn’t. It’s going to be a cold one.”

      “Stay warm.”

      “Yeah, you, too.”

      “Want me to save you a plate?”

      Lance thought about it. He wasn’t going to leave Amber and Sam at the cabin alone. She needed someone to watch her back and he knew that she wasn’t going to ask for help. He felt guilty, torn between letting Clay know his sister needed help and keeping her secret like she’d asked. He’d keep his word, but he didn’t like it—or think it was right. However, if he spilled the story to Clay and it put Amber and Sam in even more danger...

      Lance sighed. “No. I may not make it tonight after all. If you don’t see me, don’t worry about it. I’ll check in with you later.”

      “If you’re sure.”

      Lance glanced in the direction Amber and Sam had gone. “I’m sure.” Maybe by the time he heard Amber’s story and put the pieces to this puzzle together, he’d think of a way to convince her to bring her brother, the sheriff of Wrangler’s Corner, into her small circle of trust.

       THREE

      Amber put one wet, frozen foot in front of the other as she led the way to the cabin. Her adrenaline was crashing and so was her energy. She’d been awake almost two straight days. If she didn’t get some sleep soon, her body was going to quit on her. Fortunately, Sam was in a good mood and seemed content to follow her lead. Of course, he’d slept a good bit of the drive and she’d just carried him through the water so his feet would stay dry. Once she explained to him why she needed to carry him, he acquiesced. Sometimes logic worked with him, sometimes not. She was thankful he’d made it easy on her this time.

      Amber finally reached the flower bed and pulled her gloves from her hands. She dug through the dirt and leaves in the place she knew the turtle used to be. Her fingers touched a hard surface, and she brushed the refuse away. It was still there. “Thank you, God. Now please, let the key be there, too,” she whispered.

      “Thank you, God,” Sam mimicked her.

      Amber lifted the turtle and the once-silver key lay on the small patch of dirt. She snatched it up and headed for the back door. Sam plodded along beside her. She shivered. “You ready to get warmed up?”

      He didn’t answer and she didn’t expect him to. She tested the knob and it was locked as she’d figured it would be. She inserted the key and twisted. Nothing. What? “Oh come on,” she muttered. She tried again. Still nothing. She slapped the door with her palm. Tried the key again.

      And it turned.

      She sucked in a breath and pushed the door open. “Hello? Anyone here?” She didn’t think so, but it didn’t hurt to use a bit of caution. She kept her hand on her weapon and Sam behind her. “Hello?” The house echoed back at her. The musty odor filled her nose, and she knew no one had been in the home for a while. It was cold inside. Almost as cold as it was outside.

      She just prayed the power and water were still on. Her stomach rumbled reminding her they needed to eat something. The beef jerky, jar of peanut butter and bag of crackers in the backpack might have to suffice.

      She pushed the door open farther and stepped inside. Her feet felt like blocks of ice but she couldn’t do anything about that just yet. Sam followed and she shut and locked the door behind him. “All right, let’s see if this works.” She reached for the light switch and flipped it up. A low glow came from the lamp on the end table. She let out a small breath of relief. Power was on. Now to clear the house. She checked on Sam who huddled in his coat, his game still clutched in his right hand. “You okay?”

      “Yes.” Sam walked to the couch and sat down. Amber blinked at the fact that he’d answered her this time. She’d never figure out how his mind worked. And that was okay. For the past four years that she’d known Sam, she’d followed Nadia’s example and talked to him like she would any other six-year-old. Sometimes he answered, sometimes he didn’t.

      She leaned over and unlaced her wet boots and kicked them off. Her socks squished against the hardwoods as she made her way to the thermostat on the wall. If the power was on, there should be heat, right? Please let there be heat, God.

      Because she really didn’t feel like trying to find dry wood to start a fire in the fireplace.

      She flipped the switch and heard a rumble in the back of the house as the furnace came to life. Oh, thank You, thank You. The Landerses’ children might not have wanted anything to do with the cabin, but they’d been paying the power bill. Which meant they probably had water, too. She searched the cabin for a laundry room and found the stackable washer and dryer in the hall. Just where she remembered it being.

      Amber pulled her socks off, grabbed her boots and threw them in the dryer. It started right up, but the thunk, thunk of her boots had her worried. She found several towels in the bathroom and tossed them in with her boots. Now the thunks were muted, and she didn’t think anyone would be able to hear it from outside. She turned the oven on high and opened the door. It would heat fast and help warm the area. She’d be sure to turn it down as soon as they were comfortable.

      She could smell the odor from the heating unit. It hadn’t been used in a while. At the sink, she turned on the faucet and water rushed into the basin and swirled down the drain.

      Perfect.

      She turned to see Sam still in his coat, sitting on the sofa and playing his game. Amber walked over to him and unlaced his boots. “Might as well get comfortable, kiddo.” She sighed and looked at the shoes in her hands. The sole of the left one was coming off.