Sabotaged (22 page)

Jake returned to the Kaltag checkpoint, his heart heavy. He only had bad news to share. Kayden spotted him first as he stepped through the door, the warmth of the building a welcome and stark contrast to the frigid temperatures outside. A handful of mushers were propped against the walls asleep—several sacked out across the kitchen floor beyond the tables—their dogs bedded down on hay piles outside.

He wiped the matted snow and ice from his boots and pulled off his hat, clutching it in his hands.

Kayden approached him, her voice low when she spoke. “I know that look, and it isn't good.”

“Gather everyone up.” He glanced around, looking for the most secluded spot. “Probably best we talk outside.”

Within minutes he, Kayden, Gage, and Darcy were congregated out by the snowmobiles in the barn-turned-garage.

“I'm afraid to ask,” Darcy said, huddling closer to Gage—her five-foot-two frame next to Gage's six-foot-three always made Jake chuckle, but this wasn't the time for laughter. “We have a serious and, I believe, imminent threat.” He went on to explain what he and Andrew had discovered at
the Kaltag pump station and that they feared Frank had done the same at the earlier stations along the Iditarod route.

Kayden, always the pragmatic one, asked, “How quickly can the other stations be checked?”

“Andrew's heading back to the pump station outside of Iditarod now. If it's also been tampered with, then I think it's safe to assume that each one Frank's passed since the restart has been as well.”

Gage rubbed Darcy's arm. “How many pumps are we talking?”

“Ten total spread out from Anchorage to Nome, which”—Jake swallowed—“unfortunately means it's going to take some time for the oil company to check them all out.”

“Time we don't have,” Darcy said.

Jake nodded, clasping Kayden's hand. Every living thing throughout the interior of Alaska would suffer from the resulting tainting of the water supply and ecosystem—an ecosystem many inhabitants along the interior and out west on toward Nome relied on for subsistence living.

Gage cleared his throat. “What do we do? How can we help?”

“The only thing we can do with the pump stations at this point is help prepare for the worst and pray NorthStar Oil's mechanics figure out a solution in time. But we can continue our search for Frank and Meg.”

“We need help,” Gage growled.

Darcy leaned into him. “But the kidnappers are still watching us. If we call backup in, we're sure to draw their attention to the fact that we've figured out their plans.”

“Which,” Jake said, sighing, “is why I'm praying Reef and
Kirra are able to get some useful information out of Sam Matthews.”

Gage cocked his head. “Sam Matthews?”

“The ROW leader?” Darcy asked, confusion dotting her brow.

“Yeah. He—” Jake stopped midsentence at a crunching noise toward the rear of the barn. Had someone been eavesdropping? Was there a plant among the volunteers, as they had feared? He indicated for everyone to be quiet as he crept to the open doorframe and sprang through it.

Xander jumped, dropping the pile of snow goggles he'd been holding. “Jake! Man, you sure know how to sneak up on a guy.”

Jake stiffened, surveying the area. “I could say the same about you.”

“Me?” Xander bent, retrieving the goggles, shaking the snow off as he scooped them back up in his arms. “I just de-iced these bad boys.” He stood. “Was bringing them back out.” He stepped in the barn and glanced around. “What are you all doing out here?”

“Just making sure the snowmobiles are gassed and ready to go,” Gage said, holding a red gas can.

Darcy was busy checking the snowmobiles' instruments, while Kayden appeared to be inspecting the windshields for any damage.

“Oh?” Xander's face scrunched. “I thought it was my turn on snowmobile maintenance.”

“I just got back from a sweep and figured I might as well take care of my ride.” Jake stood beside the machine he'd recently driven.

“A sweep, huh?”

“Yeah.”

Xander dropped the goggles back into the tub. “If you say so.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Jake asked, concerned at Xander's sudden level of interest.

“I just heard one of the mushers say earlier in the day he saw you head south past Old Woman cabin.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah. And it's strange, because the trail heads north. So what were you doing heading south?”

“We still have a missing musher who hasn't been spotted on the trail for days, so I widened my sweep radius.” Xander worked communications not SAR. What concern was it of his?

“Ah. Any luck?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

“That's too bad. But it looks like we've got another missing musher, so you won't be expending all your effort on locating Frank Weber.”

“A second musher?” Gage set the gas can down.

“Yeah, just came in over the radio. Brad Abbott missed the Eagle Island checkpoint.”

“Maybe he's just running behind.”

“Doesn't look that way. He left Grayling checkpoint yesterday a little after three a.m. Even barring a rough ride, he should have reached Eagle Island by this morning. We're twelve hours on.”

“Any sightings?” Kayden asked.

“Afraid not.”

“I'll check with the air force. See how they are dividing up the search grids and sweeps.”

Xander linked his arms across his chest. “Probably good if you start giving all the mushers the same attention you've been giving Frank Weber.”

Jake's jaw tightened. What was his problem?

After Xander finally left, Darcy asked, “Is it just me, or was that totally awkward?”

“Yeah, but my concern is another missing musher.” Jake shook his head. It happened, but something about the timing felt too coincidental. Were the men behind Meg's kidnapping trying to distract them from Frank's trail and their interest in the pump stations? And what was up with Xander's attitude? “We need to find Brad Abbott as soon as possible, not just for his safety and that of his team, but so we can get back on task.”

“You don't think they . . . ?” Gage said.

Jake sighed, knowing exactly where Gage was going. “That's my concern, and if it's true, I fear what may have happened to Brad Abbott.”

Kirra followed Reef down the metal stairs from the plane to find a police cruiser waiting for them on the dark tarmac.

A deputy stepped from the car and waved. “Kevin said you two could use a ride.”

“Thanks. That will help a lot.”

The drive to the station was short—under fifteen minutes—but it felt long and slow. Perhaps because the weariness was creeping into Kirra's heart and mind. Weariness over Meg, over the news about the pipeline Jake had shared with them.

How could her uncle have rigged the pumps to overheat, knowing that would cause them to blow? She understood his desperation to save Meg—it clawed at her too—but threatening the lives of innocent people, as well as vast wildlife, was too much.

All of it was too much—facing Tracey, seeing William, learning it had been Meg's idea to take off with Reef for British Columbia, leaving her in the lurch the weekend William raped her . . . And discovering her uncle's shady past—even if he'd done it for Aunt Sarah—made everything worse. Wrong was still wrong. Didn't he see that?

Reef clasped her hand. “You doing okay?”

“I don't know.” It was the most honest answer she could give.

When they pulled up to the station, Reef hopped out, moving around to get her door.

“Thanks.” Who would have thought God would have sent Reef to help anchor her, but he'd been steadfastly at her side since the whole mess started, and she knew in her heart he was a gift from God, and that he wasn't going anywhere.

She knew the same was true of God, but why did she struggle to accept that fully? To know it not just in her head but in her heart?

Maybe it was because so many people she'd trusted and depended on had let her down, shattered her heart. But she had to let that harsh reality go, because God
was
different. He would never let her down. The truth of that washed over her like a cool downpour on a hot summer day, bathing her afresh in the beauty of God's nature and promises. He was always with her.

“I have loved you with an everlasting love.”

Reef cleared his throat. “Kirra?”

She looked up to find Kevin Hoffman standing in front of them.

“Sorry.” She swiped off her hat and smoothed her hair. “I was . . . distracted.”

“No problem,” Kevin said. “You've got a lot on your mind.”

If he only knew
.

“I've got Matthews in Interrogation.” He ushered them into a room. On the other side of the two-way glass, Matthews paced a tiny room, agitation spewing from his frantic hand motions.

“Has he said anything yet?” Reef asked.

“Other than to himself?” Kevin rested his arm against the glass as Matthews continued pacing. “I brought him in under the guise of questioning him about an act of vandalism we had out at the docks a few months ago.”

“Any chance he actually was involved?”

“It's possible, which is why I didn't hesitate to bring him in when you asked, but he claims he was nowhere near Seward at the time. I also questioned him about his involvement in the pump station vandalism up in Anchorage.”

“And?”

“Claims he was only a peaceful protestor.”

“Does he realize he can walk anytime?” Kirra asked, knowing they didn't actually have enough to keep holding him.

“Hasn't figured that out yet, but he did know about his right to a phone call.” Kevin smoothed a hand over his head with a sigh. “I could only stall him so long.”

Kirra swallowed the lump forming in her throat. “He made a call out?”

“Afraid so. Said he hadn't brought his cell phone to Seward, so he asked to use ours.”

“Any idea who he called?” Reef asked.

“We traced it. Went to a burner cell, which I imagine by now has been discarded.”

Great
. She was putting money on his call going to Joseph Keller. Which meant they'd been tipped off that they were closing in, and that the police had been brought in.

Fear seized her chest. What if they harmed Meg because of their actions?

“I hovered when he made his call,” Kevin said.

“Did you overhear anything useful?”

Kevin smiled. “He kept most of the conversation fairly
quiet, but at one point he seemed to freak out over something the other person said—asked what he should say if he's questioned about the stations.”

“Station
s
? Plural?” Reef said.

Kevin nodded.

“He must have been tipped off by the person he talked to,” Kirra said. “It's the only way he could know Jake found out about the rigged pump station. Someone inside the race had to tell him.”

“So they
do
have a man on the inside.” Reef reached for his phone. “I better let Jake know for certain.”

“You may want to wait until after you talk to Sam,” Kevin said, gesturing with his chin.

Sam's pacing speed had increased dramatically.

“I worry he may figure out he can just walk out of here any minute.”

Reef slipped the phone back in his pocket. “You're right. And I'm sure, or at least hope, we'll have more to tell Jake after we talk with Sam.”

“One more thing,” Kevin said as Kirra's hand rested on the doorknob.

“Yeah?” She paused.

“He's pretty upset about another missing ROW member.”

“Someone else has gone missing?”

“I'm afraid so. Belinda Morrison.”

Kirra swallowed, looking back at Reef. “Belinda? What if our talking to her caused . . .”

He cut her off gently. “We could play the
what if
game all day, but it won't help anybody.” He stooped, his big blue eyes full of love and support. “Let's do what we
can
. Let's talk with Matthews.”

Reef was right. Taking a steadying breath, she entered the interrogation room, utterly grateful Kevin was allowing them to question Matthews.

Sam halted, his gaze jumping from Reef to Kirra and back again. “What are you doing here?”

“Why don't you take a seat,” Reef suggested, pulling one out for Kirra and then one for himself.

“If it means I can get out of here faster . . .” Sam slid into the chair opposite them.

Reef swung his chair around and straddled it, resting his arms across the back. “What can you tell us about Joseph Keller?”

Sam swiped his nose. “Who?”

So that's how he was going to play it. Kirra leaned forward, planting her palms on the table. “Rain.”

“Like I said”—he reclined—“not much.”

His nonchalant, arrogant attitude rubbed her wrong. It took great restraint for her to remain calm and collected, at least in appearance. If this man knew anything about her cousin and was taking it so lightly . . . “That's funny, because we learned you two were part of the NorthStar protest back in Anchorage.”

“So?”

“So it appears you two took things further than just protesting.”

“Says who?”

“Anchorage police.”

“They're wrong.”

“That's not how we heard it. We heard you and
Rain
”—she added extra emphasis to the alias—“were arrested for vandalizing NorthStar equipment later that night.”

He straightened. “We were brought in for questioning, not arrested.”

“Still proves you lied to us.”

“How do you figure that?”

“You said you didn't know Rain's real name, didn't know him at all until he recently showed up on campus. But the two of you protested together months ago, and if you two were brought in for questioning together, surely you would have learned his real name at the time of interrogation, if you didn't know it before.”

“So what if I did?”

“So that's just the tip of the iceberg, isn't it?” She shifted in her chair. “What happened to Belinda?”

Pain flashed across Sam's face. “I don't know. She just disappeared.”

“After talking with us.”

He pinned an angry gaze on them. “Yeah.”

Kirra's stomach flipped. So Belinda's disappearance
was
a result of her talking to them. Had she been silenced? “What did you do to her?”

“Me?” Color raced up his neck. “I'd never hurt Belinda.”

“So who did?”

Sam looked away. “I don't know.”

Kevin stepped into the room, clearly deciding this was the time to apply some pressure. “If anything happens to Meg or Belinda while you keep your mouth shut, you'll be charged as an accessory.”

Sam's face paled. “I want a lawyer.”

“Fine,” Kevin said, linking his arms across his chest. “But the accessory charges, along with obstruction of justice, will still hold if anything happens to them in the meantime.”

Sam swallowed, the defined Adam's apple in his narrow neck bobbing.

“On the other hand,” Kevin continued, “if you help us out, we'll pass that info along to the DA, and in exchange for what you know, you might just get off—or at least get a reduced sentence. Not to mention the satisfaction of saving two ladies' lives.” Kevin placed his palms on the table in front of the young man and leaned forward. “So what's it going to be, Mr. Matthews?”

He sat in yet another rental car across the darkened street from the Seward police station, rage seething inside. If Sam gave him up . . .

His fingers tightened around the steering wheel.

“Yeah?” his cousin answered on the other end.

“They've got Sam,” he gritted out, irritation burning his veins. All because of a stupid girl.

“What?” The timbre of his cousin's voice vibrated.

“He called. They're questioning him.”

“About?”

“Word from the race is they are checking out the pump stations.”

“Are you kidding me?”

He adjusted his side mirror, watching an attractive woman cross the recently snowplowed street. “Don't worry. Frank knows what to do and what's at stake. Even if they figure it out, they won't have time to do anything about it.”

“And Meg? How much does Sam know about her?”

He swallowed, preparing for a rant. “Enough.”

“Then you better find out how much he tells them and if he's really loyal to us.”

“He's loyal to the cause.”

“Cut the
cause
junk. You and I know why we're really doing this. You can call it a
plan
or a
cause
or whatever you choose, but you know the truth.”

“But Sam doesn't, and that's how it has to stay if we want to maintain his loyalty, especially after taking Belinda out.”

“I told you not to involve anyone else.”

“We needed to know what she told Reef and Kirra, and she could have identified me. I had no choice.”

“Well, you ticked off Sam, and now we might have a loose cannon on our hands. It's essential you find out what he told them.”

“I will, and don't worry about their interest in the pump stations—we've thrown in a nice diversion.”

“At least you did something right.” The line went dead.

He chucked his new burner cell onto the empty seat beside him, the old one tossed as soon as Sam's call came in. If their plans fell apart all because of a nosy cousin and her boyfriend . . .

His grip tightened on the wheel.

Well, then more than one pretty cousin was going to have to die.

“So, what's it going to be, Sam?” Kirra asked, struggling to keep the desperation from her voice.

“I want it in writing—I'm cleared of charges in exchange for what I tell you.”

Hoffman chuckled. “Let's see if what you got is worth anything first.”

“Fine.” Sam leaned forward. “I know who took Meg Weber, and I'm pretty positive Belinda too.”

An unsettling mix of fear and hope coursed through Kirra. She looked back at Kevin, praying he knew how valuable that information was and how time was of the essence.