Sabotaged (15 page)

The frigid air burned his lungs more than holding his breath had. He coughed, water gurgling up his throat.

“Kirra,” he choked out, swiping her hair from her face.

Her eyes were open wide, but she wasn't breathing. Spotting the riverbank twenty yards to his right, he swam.

Reaching shore, he carried Kirra up, laying her flat on the rocky surface. “Come on, honey.”

Someone hollered that help was on its way. He glanced up, a figure on the bridge catching his eye. A man, his shoulders taut, his stance hard. Was it the man who was chasing them?

Turning back to Kirra, he bent, listening for breath.
None
.

He tilted her head back. “Don't die on me, Kirra.” Clearing her airway, he began CPR, his lips pressing against her cold ones. “Come on.”

It took several seconds, which seemed an eternity, but finally she coughed, curling toward her side, expelling murky water onto the gray rocky shore.

Thank you, Jesus.

He scooped her in his arms, cradling her against his chest. A man slid down the steep bank to their side, his boots kicking up snow and sleet in his wake. It wasn't the same man he'd seen on the bridge.

Reef glanced back in that direction, but that man was gone.

Red lights swirled in disorienting patterns as Kirra sat in the ambulance with Reef, thick green blankets brought by the EMTs draped over her, their scratchiness incongruent with their sickeningly sweet floral fabric softener scent.

Reef's arm was draped across her shoulders—shoulders hunched and trembling.

She was tired of being cold. Tired of being chased. Tired of being threatened.

Father, let this end.

Not
yet, my child.

Why not?

It isn't time.

She fought the urge to nuzzle into Reef's chest and allow the tears buried deep inside to finally spring forth. After what had just occurred, any onlookers would attribute her reaction to the near drowning. But she couldn't let go. Not yet.

Why wasn't she ready to fully release all the pent-up sorrow and pain? Because she feared if she fully acknowledged what she'd been holding inside for so long, it would overwhelm her, flood her, and she'd break. She wasn't strong enough.
She was getting by, but healing took work, courage, strength she didn't have.

Reef rubbed her arm. “You doing okay?”

She nodded. Despite the pain, despite the shame, she always managed to keep her chin up. Maybe she had a little bit of her grandma Alice's hutzpah, as her aunt Sarah always called grandmother's special strength and vivacity. Even in her death Alice had gone with style—the only person in the hospital to wear a purple silk robe over the required gown, and a rhinestone flower pin in her thinning hair. She'd held her own right until the end, when she'd whispered, “Off to the next adventure” with her last breath.

Kirra gazed around at the ambulance lights bouncing like red fireflies off the icy road's surface. She supposed this—terrifying as it might be—was a kind of adventure. It was definitely a journey, and she was paired with the least-expected yet truly perfect companion. She couldn't have asked God for a better one.

Kevin Hoffman hurried around the end of the steadily growing vehicle line and climbed into the ambulance. “Kirra, I came as soon as I heard.”

“That's sweet, but I'm fine. Really.”

He squatted beside her, concern fast on his face. “What happened?”

“The steering went out,” Reef explained.

Kevin's brows arched. “Malfunction?”

Reef looked down at Kirra, confirmation in his eyes. They were both thinking the same thing. Might as well say it.

“I . . .” She looked at Reef. “We think it was the man who's been following us.”

“Following you?” Kevin said, confusion and alarm filling
his voice. “You never said anything about someone following you.”

“We weren't sure . . .”

“Until now,” Reef added. “I saw him standing on the bridge when we came out of the water.”

“You saw him?” Kirra asked, turning to look up at him. “But we don't know what he looks like. Are you sure?”

Reef nodded. “When I saw him, how he was looking at us—angry and stiff—I just knew.”

“But you've seen him before?” Kevin asked.

“We didn't see his face, but he tried to gun us down back at the race.”

Kevin's mouth gaped. “Gun you down? Kirra, why didn't you tell me?”

“It didn't seem pertinent.”

“Not pertinent? Someone tried to kill you and is following you. How could that not be pertinent?”

“I'm sorry, Kevin. I was just focused on finding Meg.” She had to.

“We didn't know for certain he was still after us,” Reef said.

Kevin swallowed and stood. “I see. Well, I'll need you two to come back into the station and file a report.”

“There's no time for that,” Kirra said, anxiety gripping her. “We need to get to Kodiak. We've already lost too much time.”

Kevin looked to their car being towed out of the river. “Doesn't look like you'll be going anywhere anytime soon.”

“Our next lead is in Kodiak. That's where we need to be.”

“I understand,” Kevin said, “but you need to file a report. I promise I will expedite the process.”

Urgency flared in her throat. “But we're running out of time.” Didn't he understand that?

“Kevin's right,” Reef said. “We need to file a report and update Jake about what's going on. Besides, we need a new rental car. Don't worry—we'll be back on the road in no time.”

“Actually,” Kevin said, “I can do better than that.”

Kirra reclined in her seat on the small floatplane, thankful Kevin had called in a favor. Russell Grant was taking them in his plane, directly to Kodiak.

Kevin had held true to his word—getting their report down quickly, connecting with Jake and Landon to help run a coordinated operation, and providing her and Reef with dry clothes as well as much-needed cell phones. Within a couple hours, they were on their way.

She shifted, pulling the wool sweater sleeves over her hands.

“You still cold?” Reef covered her with a fleece blanket—soft and blue. She nodded, doubting she'd ever feel warm. The chill of the water still clung to her bones.

He cupped her face in the palm of his hand, his skin warm, his touch commanding yet tender. “I'm sorry you're having to go through this.”

She leaned into his touch. “I'm just glad you're with me.”

“Me too.” He caressed her cheek, his fingers brushing her skin in a featherlight motion.

His gaze dropped to her mouth and then quickly back to her eyes.

A soft, anticipatory smile tugged at her lips.

He leaned in, bringing his mouth to hers. His lips were soft, tentative.

She swayed into him, and he deepened the kiss, sending warmth rushing through her body.

Reef took her hand in his as they walked through the small metal-frame building serving as Kodiak's terminal, and his touch felt divine. She'd kissed Reef McKenna—twice now—and her heart hadn't stopped fluttering. The emotions coursing through her brought with them an exhilaration she couldn't quite describe, but she supposed the word
giddy
came closest.

She was giddy over kissing Reef McKenna. In high school she'd occasionally allowed herself to daydream about what it would be like, dreamed about him grabbing her, pressing her up against the lockers, and kissing her passionately, but this was so much better. This kiss wasn't a random act of passion; this kiss had been saturated with meaning and promise.

Unfortunately the purpose of their visit hit her anew as Kodiak's bracing sea wind lashed her cheeks upon exiting the building.

She and Reef weren't on a date. They weren't in Kodiak on some romantic daytrip. They were here to track down the past of an uncle she'd thought she'd known. An uncle she'd depended on. An uncle who wasn't what he'd seemed.

She clasped Reef's hand tighter and prayed God would supply them both with the strength needed to face whatever lay before them. Because she certainly didn't have it in herself.

K
ODIAK
, A
LASKA
M
ARCH
14, 8:30
A
.
M
.

The following morning, Reef held the door to the Kodiak police station open for Kirra. After arriving in Kodiak, they'd picked up a new rental car, checked into a hotel, and had a good night's sleep, which Kirra had desperately needed—her body nearing the point of exhaustion. Her spirit, unfortunately, wasn't close behind.

She couldn't help but continue looking over her shoulder, wondering when the man on the snowmobile, the man on the bridge, was going to surface next. The tension gripping her heart as if in a vise said it wouldn't be long. But she needed to stop expending effort on the
what if
s. She needed to focus on what was right in front of her—and that was their next lead.

The Kodiak police station—a charcoal-colored two-story building with orange metal piping forming a canopy leading to the entrance, and orange outlining the rectangular windows running nearly the length of it—exuded a modern vibe.

Landon had suggested they speak with Officer Carson Rydell.

It took a few minutes, but they finally located the man at the last desk in the precinct office—tucked in the corner and piled high with files.

“Detective Rydell?” Kirra asked.

The man, who appeared to be about her father's age, gave a sideways glance—his eyebrows matching his salt-and-pepper hair. He was lean and fit. He clearly worked out, though his attire dated him somewhat. He wore loose-fitting Dockers, a light blue dress shirt tucked into a belted waistband—up at his actual waist—and a navy tie with sailing boats on it.

“Hi, I'm Kirra Jacobs, and—”

“And?” he asked before she could introduce Reef, his attention fixed on the computer screen in front of him, his weathered hands typing away. Between the tie and the hands, she was betting sailing was a favorite hobby.

“I need to speak with you about a B and E involving Frank Weber.”

“Frank Weber.” He frowned. “Can't say the name's familiar.” He continued typing.

“Oh, right.” She kept forgetting. “Sorry. I meant Frank Jacobs.” A man she never knew.

“Frank Jacobs?” he said in a raspy voice as he ceased typing. “Now that's a name from the past.” He swiveled to face her, his gaze scanning her up and down. “What'd you say your name is?”

“Kirra.” She extended a hand. “Kirra Jacobs.”

He stood and shook it, his gray brows arching. “You Frank's girl?”

“No. His niece.”

“So that would make you Bart's kid.”

“Yeah. You know my dad?” Probably from Frank's arrest, she imagined.

“Your old man and I played some ball back in the day.”

“You're kidding.” Her nose crinkled. “My dad played a
sport
? Was it football?” The last few days had been full of surprises. Most of them were very bad, but at least one of them—she looked at Reef—was very good.

“Baseball,” Rydell said.

“Really?” Just as surprising. Her dad had never been much into sports while she was growing up. He'd always seemed too straitlaced for them.

“Yeah. We even went to state our junior year.”

“You're kidding,” she murmured again. She just couldn't picture her dad running bases, sweating, or worse yet, getting dirty. He'd always had a fit when she accidentally got anything on his clothes or tracked dirt into the house as a kid.

“Yes, indeed,” Rydell said, pulling over a chair for her and instructing Reef to grab a second one from the empty desk catty-corner to them. “So, what's with the interest in Frank's former ways?” His smile faded. “Don't tell me he's in trouble again after all these years?”

“No. Not in that way.” At least the thought had never crossed her mind that something Frank did could have brought on her cousin's kidnapping.

“What way
is
he in trouble?” Rydell linked his arms over his chest, reclining back in his chair.

“It's kind of hard to explain.”

“Why don't one of you give it a shot.” He lifted his chin at Reef. “You the boyfriend?”

Kirra looked at Reef and smiled, intervening before he attempted to fumble out an answer. Not that it wouldn't be
entertaining, but it was best they stick to the point. “This is Reef McKenna. He's helping me.”

“McKenna?” The man paused. “As in the Yancey McKennas?”

“Guilty.”

Rydell nodded. “So what's your interest in all this?”

“Kirra just learned about her uncle's past, and she was curious about what happened. Landon suggested we talk with you.”

“Landon Grainger? That's right,” Rydell snapped. “Nadine said he left a message saying he was sending some folks by, but she didn't give me a name. Guess that'd be you.”

“Yep.”

“Well, why didn't you say so?” He stood. “Hold tight. It may take me a bit to track down Frank's info. Grab a soda and make yourselves comfortable.”

Kirra shifted on the metal folding chair, terrified of what she might learn about an uncle she thought she'd known so well.
Comfortable
was the last thing she could be.