Sabotaged (14 page)

“Because Rain was uber private?”

Belinda nodded. “Yep.”

Kirra and Reef spent the next several frustrating hours interviewing the entire ROW group and, sadly, came away with very little. Meg's belongings had been left—which certainly pointed to foul play—but there was nothing among her things to point to her attacker. Was Rain her abductor? Or had he been kidnapped too? Little was known about the man other than that he'd started showing up at ROW meetings several months back. No one had classes with him, but a number of the protestors had seen him on campus pretty regularly, at least over the last semester. He was tall, of sturdy build, had golden-streaked brown hair that fringed his shoulders—as one girl put it—in Brad Pitt,
World War Z
style. Beyond that no one seemed to know anything about the mysterious
man—not his age, not if he was actually a student, where he lived—nothing beyond the tiny pieces they'd been able to gather. All they had was a description and possible first name.

Meg and Rain had ridden from campus with Sam, which left them sans vehicle, so Kirra and Reef were betting a third party had to be involved, or Rain had stashed a vehicle ahead of time.

One person in Meg's assigned bunkhouse said she heard a scuffling noise the night Meg disappeared, but the gal had just assumed Meg and Rain were fooling around.

Another guy in the adjacent bunkhouse thought he'd heard a vehicle pull away a little after midnight but hadn't paid it much attention.

It definitely wasn't the concrete information Kirra had been praying for, but she supposed it was a start.

Midafternoon, Reef drove away from the noise of the parking lot, but only so far as the end of the marina driveway before pulling to the shoulder. It was time to try and reach Jake again, hoping he could direct their next steps.

After the third ring, Jake answered. “Reef?”

“Yeah. I'm here.” Reception was sketchy—the phone crackling—but at least he'd gotten through. “What happened?”

“Storm blew in. Lost reception. Where are you two at?”

“Seward.”

“Learn anything?”

Reef relayed what they'd discovered—what little there was.

“At least you got a decent description of Joseph aka Rain?”

“Yeah.”

“There's a police station in Seward that has a great sketch
artist. Landon's worked with him on a number of cases. Grab the protestor who gave you the best description and take him or her into the station. It shouldn't take long, but it could provide us with a vital lead—Rain's identity.”

“Okay. Will do.”

“I'll have Landon call the station to let them know you're coming, and have them scan and then e-mail the sketch to Landon and me. We can run it through our databases and hopefully get a match. After that I need you guys to head for Kodiak.”

“Kodiak? Why Kodiak?”

“Is Kirra right there?”

“Yeah . . .”

“Go ahead and put me on speakerphone. She's going to want to hear this.”

Reef did so with apprehension.

“All set?” Jake asked.

“Yep,” Kirra said, kicking her boots up on the dash. “We're both here.”

“I'm putting our end on speakerphone too,” he said.

“How ya hanging in there?” Darcy asked on the other end.

Kirra smiled at Reef. “Doing okay. Reef's been a great help.”

He was so thankful he could be there for her, that he could be of support. It felt good being needed, and even better being there for someone else. If only he hadn't gone with Meg to British Columbia that weekend, she could have been there for Kirra. There were so many decisions he regretted—they'd swallow him whole if it wasn't for God's grace and renewal.

“So what's this about Kodiak?” she asked.

“How much do you know about your uncle Frank's past? Back when he was a teenager and young adult?” Jake asked.

Kirra shifted, not liking where Jake's questioning seemed to be headed. “Not much.” Hers was a quiet, private family. It was how her dad liked to keep things. She knew her dad went straight into the military after high school and Frank went to college, and the two hadn't been close since. She'd always chalked it up to their vastly different personalities. But no definitive reason had been given, and she knew better than to ask.

“You mentioned Frank had changed his name because he was adopted,” Darcy chimed in.

“Yeah,” she said slowly.

“Well, I think there might be more behind the name change than that.”

“Why?”

“I did some digging and it turns out Frank had a pretty bad run-in with the law when he was eighteen.”

“Frank?” She laughed. “You're kidding me.”

“Afraid not,” Darcy said. “He was arrested for a breaking and entering back in Kodiak.”

Kirra sat upright, pulling her legs down and planting her boots firmly on the floorboard—she needed the feel of something stable beneath her. “There's got to be some mistake.”

“I've tripled-checked. Frank and two other men broke into a home and robbed it. Unfortunately things went very bad.”

Kirra's stomach dropped. “What do you mean
very bad
?” Wasn't a breaking and entering bad enough?

“The details are sketchy, which is why we need you to go to Kodiak and do some research, but it looks like Frank got
in with two guys—both in their midtwenties at the time, both with previous records. They broke into the home of a man named Phillip Webster. The owner returned home before they'd cleared out. Shots were fired and one of the burglars—Tommy Madero—was killed. Apparently they caught the ringleader, Henry Watts, quickly—as he and Madero had been busted together before—but Frank wasn't on their radar.”

“Did Watts turn Frank in?”

“Apparently not. It took the police nearly a week to discover Frank was the third burglar and nearly another week to bring him into custody.”

“I can't believe this.” She'd thought she'd known Frank so well, but she'd thought the same about William and Tracey. When it came to people's character, she seemed doomed to blindness. Anxiety nipped at her, threatening to take over. “What does any of this have to do with Meg?”

“I don't know that it does—except Henry Watts just got released from prison last month.”

“Last month? Why did he serve so long?” Clearly Frank hadn't. Had her uncle served any time in prison? The thought seemed so incongruent with the man she thought she knew.

“It was Watts's third violation in less than a year. And it was determined he injured the homeowner in the shootout and killed Madero.”

“Madero was shot by Watts?” Reef's confusion echoed her own.

“He claimed it was during the chaos of the shootout, but Frank had a different story,” Darcy said. “He believed it was intentional.”

Jake picked up the telling. “Because of Frank's cooperation,
and since he had no previous record—along with the fact he'd just turned eighteen—the judge was lenient and only gave him eighteen months for breaking and entering. Near as I can tell he changed his name when he got out, moved to Anchorage, enrolled in college, and cleaned up his act.”

Kirra's mind raced through the possible scenarios, still trying to grasp what she was being told.

“Why would Watts kill his own man?”

“I don't know. The entire thing has a weird feel to it. Another house in the neighborhood was hit that same night. The alarm was triggered, but the owner claims nothing was stolen.”

“Okay. So maybe the alarm scared them off before they could steal anything.”

“I doubt it.”

“Why?”

“Because they seemed to know what they were doing. They shut down a similar alarm at the next residence.”

“Okay, so maybe they decided there was nothing worth stealing.”

“That's just it. The man who insisted nothing was stolen was reputed to own a significant number of valuable antiques.”

“Reputed to?”

“I found an article by a Simon Baker, a reporter with the
Kodiak Eagle.
According to the article, the other homeowner, a Mr. Bartholomew, was renowned in town for collecting the uncollectable.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning illegally obtained artifacts and antiques.”

“Which would make him none too eager to report such an item stolen.”

“Exactly.”

“Then why hit another house if they got something of such worth?”

“Who knows? Like I said, it has a weird feel to it.”

“And you're sure Frank was involved?”

“According to his conviction, yes.”

“And you think this Henry Watts could have taken Meg? But why? Because Frank got away without serving much time?”

“Perhaps.”

“What are you thinking, Jake?”

“I don't know. I'm not sure where this will lead, but as long as you don't have any strong leads in your search for Meg, you may as well head to Kodiak and see what you can find out about the robbery. Landon's calling the local police and giving you an intro, so they'll be expecting you.”

“Looks like we're going to Kodiak after we visit the Seward police station,” Reef said, and Kirra nodded, still trying to wrap her head around all they had learned.

“And now that the storm's past, Kayden and I are flying back to Anchorage to talk with the head of NorthStar Oil.”

“Why fly to see him? Why not just question him over the phone?” Reef asked.

“Because he won't return our calls,” Kayden said.

“Besides,
in person
is always better. You can't read expressions over the phone,” Jake said.

“Gage and I will stay with the race,” Darcy said. “We'll keep an eye and ear out for sightings of Frank.”

“And Darcy will keep working her research magic,” Gage said.

“Jake, won't people be curious about you two leaving?” Kirra asked. “First Reef and me, and now you two. What if those men are still watching? What if they figure it out and punish Meg?”

“Don't worry. We've got a cover story in place. We're flying two dropped dogs back to Anchorage.”

Reef held the door of the Seward police station open as Kirra and then Belinda entered the one-story brick building.

“Kirra.” An officer approached with a smile that made Reef uneasy—there was a familiarity there, and definite interest hovering in the man's brown eyes.

“Hey, Kevin. Good to see you.” She gave him a hug, and the hairs on the nape of Reef's neck stood at jealous attention as she introduced them.

“So what brings you to my neck of the woods, Kirra?”

She pointed back at Belinda, who was sipping a soda and twirling her auburn hair. “We need to see your sketch artist.”

“Oh, right. Grainger called and said he was sending somebody in. Didn't realize it was going to be you.”

“Well, here I am.”

“And my day just got a whole lot better.” He smiled.

And Reef's just got a whole lot worse. He paced the Seward police station while Belinda described Rain aka Joseph to the sketch artist.

Kirra stood and paced in stride with him. “I know you're anxious to keep moving forward, but identifying Rain could be the first concrete piece of evidence we have.”

Reef raked a hand through his hair. Getting back to their investigation wasn't the only reason he wanted to get moving. Officer Charming hadn't taken his eyes off Kirra since she'd walked through the station door. “So how do you know Officer Hoffman?”

“Kevin? Oh, we've worked a couple of SAR cases together.”

“So you've worked with Seward SAR too?” Was that a regular thing? Was she in Kevin's company a lot? And
why
was he getting so jealous?

“Occasionally we team up to help each other out. I did some training here when they expanded their canine unit. Helped transition Kevin into the leader position.”

“That's cool. So you work with him a lot?”

“Not anymore. . . .” She eyed him curiously. “Why the interest?”

He shrugged. “Just curious.”

“Aren't you always?” She smiled.

He smiled back. “Can't argue there.”

“So that would make me . . . ?”

Of course she'd make him say it. “I suppose that would make you . . . right.”

Her smile widened, a playful glint dancing in her eyes. “Just as I always am.”

He laughed. “Now there's the bossy Kirra I know and love.”

Her brows arched. “
Love?
”

He tried to act cool, gave a casual shrug of his shoulder,
praying the heat flooding up his neck didn't show. “You . . . um . . . know what I mean.”

“Right. It's just a casual saying. Nothing intended. I get it.” She slipped her side braid behind her shoulder.

He glanced at Officer Hoffman and back to the woman who'd stolen his heart. Perhaps it was time he told her. “Actually, I . . .”

She stepped closer, her floral scent intoxicating.

What was that? Jasmine? Whatever it was, she smelled incredible.

“Yes?” she asked.

His eyes locked on hers. “I—”

“We're done here,” the sketch artist said, walking smack into the middle of their moment—awkward on Reef's part as it may have been.

“Great.” He shoved his hands into his pockets as Belinda strode to their side.

She slipped her purse strap over her arm. “Ready to take me back?”

“I can take her,” Officer Hoffman offered. How long had he been standing behind them? How much of their conversation had he overheard?

“Are you sure?” Kirra asked. “I mean it'd get us on the way to Kodiak faster, which would be great, but I don't want to put you out.”

Put him out
. Reef couldn't wait to be alone with Kirra again—to have her all to himself, even if it was just while working a case.

“Anything for you,” Hoffman said. “Besides, I've got to patrol the protest every few hours.” He glanced at his watch. “The later-running fishermen will be returning with their
day's haul soon, and that's when tensions rise. Best to have a police presence there, just to remind everyone to remain cordial.”

“Wonderful.” Kirra rocked back on her heels. “Thanks.”

Hoffman slipped his hat on. “No problem.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “As always, wonderful to see you.”

“You too. Take care.”

The officer turned to Belinda. “Ma'am.”

She smiled, taking his arm as he proffered it in gentlemanly fashion.

She glanced back over her shoulder. “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” Reef said, stepping to Kirra's side. He ached to wrap his arm around her slender waist, but he didn't have the right—their relationship wasn't there yet. Actually it was probably just wishful thinking on his part that they had any
relationship
at all. When Meg and Frank were safe, and this case over, he feared they'd go back to being nothing more than casual acquaintances.

He studied the gentle slope of her neck as she slipped her burgundy scarf on.

Man, he prayed he was wrong.

So they'd brought the police into it.

Anger seethed, burning through his chest, coiling his muscles as an officer helped Belinda into a patrol car. How much had the stupid broad told them?

He gripped the steering wheel, hot air blowing from the rental car's vents across his clenched fingers. He'd find out
precisely
what she told them, but that would have to wait.

Readjusting his rearview mirror, he spotted Reef and Kirra exiting the station. They were the ones who'd perpetrated all of this—questioning Belinda, pulling the cops in, interfering with their plans.

He reversed, pulling out of the precinct lot behind their rental car. They were going to pay, and the beauty of it was he simply had to sit back and watch.

Reef pulled onto the main road, thankful they were finally making progress. With any luck, they'd make it to Anchorage by nightfall. He hoped Rain's sketch would trigger a hit. They'd scanned it and then sent it on to both Jake and Landon, praying that before he and Kirra reached Kodiak they'd find a full identification—though that was being extremely optimistic.

They needed something. Meg's disappearance was wearing on Kirra, the fear for her uncle and cousin evident in her deep blue eyes, and he hated seeing the toll it all was taking. Not to mention what horror Meg may be going through. If only he could will things to go faster, figure out what was going on, know where to look, where to dig . . .

Please, Father, I need your help.
I need your guidance and direction. Please let me be
of help to Kirra and her family. Direct us to
Meg, and bring this nightmare to an end.

He reached over and clasped Kirra's delicate hand, half expecting her to pull away, but she didn't. Instead a soft smile graced her pink lips.

Reef shifted his full focus to the road ahead, or at least tried to.

The pavement was crusted with a thick layer of ice, making
the passage back to Anchorage difficult. On such short notice, it was tough finding a flight out of Seward to Kodiak, so the two-and-a-half-hour drive to Anchorage and quick half-hour flight on to Kodiak was the fastest route there. But focus was vital. The Seward Highway was known not only for its beauty—saltwater bays, frigid blue glaciers, and alpine valleys—but also for its knife-edge ridges and rock-fall potential making it one of the deadliest highways in Alaska, or as some considered it, the most dangerous stretch of road in the U.S.

Neither he nor Kirra had much to say, so he focused on his driving, and they passed easily through the quiet town of Moose Pass and wound along the narrowing mountain walls of Canyon Creek, the seasonal steel-blue waters frozen solid.

“So . . . you were saying . . . ?” Kirra prompted. Her heart had been racing with anticipation ever since their interrupted conversation in the Seward police station. Had Reef been about to say he felt more for her than simple friendship? The sheer delight that spread through her at the tantalizing prospect hadn't stopped dancing a jig through her limbs. It was all she could do to sit still. He
needed
to finish that sentence and fast.

“Saying what, exactly?” he asked, looking rather nervous.

It was adorable. She'd never seen Reef McKenna nervous, and the thought it could be because of her felt amazing. But maybe she was getting her hopes up for nothing. Maybe she needed to settle down. But she couldn't help herself. She hadn't felt like this since . . .

She swallowed hard.

Reef arched a brow. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing.” She shook off the fear, or at least tried to. What William had done to her had controlled her life long enough. It was time she took it back.

Reef's gaze fixed on her momentarily, then back on the steeply inclining road. “So . . .” He cleared his throat. “About our earlier conversation . . .”

“Yes?”

The soothing evergreen scent of his aftershave filled the compact car—reminding her of home, where her shelter and practice was surrounded by pines. “I feel like we've gotten to know each other much better, and . . .”

She found herself leaning in to him. “And?”

“And I hope when all of this is past us, and your cousin and uncle are safe, that our spending time together like this isn't over.”

“Really?” She tried to maintain her excitement.

“Yes.” He looked down at his right hand covering hers, caressing her skin between his thumb and forefinger. “I'd like to start seeing you as more than a friend.”

Disappointment weighed heavy on her heart. So he didn't already view her that way?

“Because the truth is,” he continued, “I already do.”

Joy bubbled up, fizzing through her. “You do?”

He nodded, his gaze dropping to her lips, and then quickly back to the road.

“That's good,” she said, summoning all the braveness she could muster, ignoring the fear pricking at her—because she could feel in her gut this was right. She'd prayed for the right man to come into her life, and God had brought Reef—crazy as it was.

“It's good?” His smile widened.

“Yes.” She exhaled her fear. “Because I do too.”

“Really?” he asked as they began the thousand-foot decline through Turnagain Arm. “No interest in anyone else?”

She shook her head. “Only you.”

He smiled, but something stole it away. Was that panic?

“What's wrong?”

He clamped the wheel tight, struggling against it as the car banked hard right, straight for the side of Placer River Bridge.

“Reef?” she screeched, bracing her hands on the dash.

“I can't control the steer—”

Impact with the guardrail cut off his words, the hood of the car jutting over the edge of the bridge and tipping downward. “Hold on,” he yelled as they plunged into the frigid Alaskan water.

Please
don't let this be it, Lord.
Not when he'd just found Kirra, when he'd just gotten his life on the right track. Discovered what mattered.

Despite the swell of panic flooding him, he trusted the Lord. If it was his time to go, then he willingly went. It was amazing how far the Lord had brought him over the past year—to a place of deep security in and dependence on his Savior.

The rapids were bone chilling, but he was confident he could last the few minutes it would take to reach shore. Growing up swimming in Alaskan waters had accustomed him to the cold.

Darkness smothered the light. Water swirled feverishly around them, marring his vision.

The open window allowed the water to pulse in at an unrelenting pace, but it maintained a route of escape against its forceful pressure. Kicking the window out with both feet,
he reached for Kirra, her hair a tangled, floating mess about her face. Her arms floated above her head—leaving his gut in his throat. She was unconscious.

Wrapping an arm around her chest beneath her arms, he swam, pulling her through the open window, kicking hard against the force of the water rushing in. Finally free of the vehicle, he furiously swam for and broke the surface.