Trail of Lies (13 page)

N
OT IF
I
CAN HELP
it!” Nancy cried. Moving with reflexes that had been honed by her martial arts classes, she lunged forward and kicked up and out, catching Craig's arm.

The gun flew from his hand and landed with a loud clatter on the other side of the cabin.

“You—!” Craig's face contorted with fury. His hands reached for Nancy, the fingers curled as if to strangle her.

Nancy moved deftly to the side. Suddenly Craig lost his balance and toppled to the floor. His head hit the hard boards with a crack, and he lay still.

For the briefest instant Nancy stared at her assailant, wondering how he'd tripped. Then
she saw Steve's leg where Craig had been standing. Still on the floor, Steve was conscious. He peered up at her, rubbing his head.

“Did I get him?
All right!
Let's get him tied up,” he said, rising to his feet.

While Steve held Craig on the floor, Nancy found nylon twine in a cupboard. In minutes they had bound the unconscious Craig's hands and ankles. Once Nancy thought she saw his eyelids flicker. She leaned forward and peered intently at his face, but it remained slack.

“That must have been some blow to his head,” she commented.

“I hope it hurt,” Steve said angrily. “Come on, let's get George out of here.”

The two of them bundled George into the extra blankets Nancy had brought and carried her to the sled.

Nancy was surprised at how much snow had fallen while they were in the cabin. And it kept coming down, thicker and faster.

When Steve had fastened the belt around George and was sure she was secure, he turned to Nancy.

“Here's the headlight,” he said, holding out the bright battery-powered light. “Do you know how to work it?”

Nancy nodded, but there was a question in her eyes. “Why do I need it?” she asked.

“Because you're going to take George back to the house,” Steve answered.

Nancy looked at him, startled by his reply. “I can't. I'm not a musher,” she protested.

Steve gave her a little smile. “Let's not argue again. Someone's got to deal with Craig, and it ought to be me. He was my friend. If it hadn't been for me, you and George wouldn't have been involved in this mess.” He handed Nancy the light and helped her secure it to her cap. “Get George to the doctor. I'll harness my dogs and then bring Craig back with me.”

Nancy hesitated. It was fine to tell her to take the dogsled, but she was a rookie musher.

“Look, Nancy,” Steve said. “This storm isn't letting up any. You'd better get going. The dogs will follow their own trail and lead you back.”

“I hope you're right,” Nancy told him. “And, Steve—good luck to you.”

She took her place on the runners. Her right foot reached to release the brake.

“Hike!” she called.

Butterscotch turned and looked at Nancy, as though surprised by a new driver. Then she barked to the team, and the sled began to move.

“Home, Butterscotch,” Nancy urged the powerful husky. “Take us home.”

As the trail began to climb a hill, she jumped off the runners and ran behind the sled. Steve had made it look easy when he'd done it. After she'd crested her first hill, though, Nancy had a
new respect for Steve, Lindsay, and all the other dog mushers. It was hard work running through the deep snow.

Nancy shouted words of encouragement to the dogs. Then, remembering something Craig had said about Lindsay's techniques, she took a deep breath. “This land is your land, this land is my land . . .” she sang. The dogs barked and put on a little more speed.

Nancy lost all sense of time. All that mattered was getting George safely home. So far the sled was staying upright, and the dogs were running as though they knew the way.

The snow continued to fall, leaving a thick blanket of white on top of George. Nancy smiled. Snow was a good insulator. It would help keep George warm.

She was singing another rousing chorus of “This Land Is Your Land” to the dogs when she heard dogs barking behind her. Steve and his team were rapidly catching up. Nancy turned to wave.

Her headlight cast a beacon far enough so that she could see beyond the dogs to the musher who stood on the runners. His suit was light blue, and a lock of blond hair had escaped from his knit cap.

Craig!

He must have been faking unconsciousness back at the cabin, Nancy realized. Somehow he had overpowered Steve and taken the dogs
from him. Her heart began to pound. “Oh, hurry!” she called to the dogs, forgetting the commands she had learned.

“Give it up, Nancy!” Craig cried out. “You can't beat me on a dogsled.”

Nancy gave the sled a forward push, trying to get the dogs to run faster.

Craig was getting closer.

Fighting for her life and George's, racing through an Alaskan snowstorm, Nancy started singing again. As if to show her approval, Butterscotch turned and barked at Nancy. The dogs picked up speed.

“It won't work!” Craig yelled.

Nancy sang louder. He hates this song, she remembered. Maybe because it works!

The trail was too narrow for Craig to pass her. She tried to remember how much farther it was before the trail widened again.

They were still in the forest when Nancy saw the trees begin to thin out. In just a few yards the trail would be wide enough so that Craig could pull up alongside her.

As soon as he saw the broadening of the trail, Craig shouted to his dogs, quickening their pace. An instant later he had pulled his sled even with Nancy's.

“End of the line,” he said with an evil grin.

Nancy shouted to Butterscotch. The lead dog barked her command to the rest of the team, but the dogs could go no faster.

From the corner of her eye, Nancy saw a movement on Craig's sled. What was he up to? she wondered fearfully.

Craig reached into the basket and pulled out a coiled whip.

Nancy bit her lip. “Easy, Butterscotch,” she called, hoping her voice sounded more reassuring than she felt. “It'll be all right.”

Nancy started singing again. It was all she could do. She knew how Lindsay's dogs hated the sound of a whip. She'd seen firsthand how they reacted to loud noises. Nancy was not a skilled racer who could control a team that ran wild. All she could do was try to prevent them from spooking.

Craig lifted the whip over his head.

Nancy raised her voice in song.

Crack! The sound of the whip echoed through the night.

Butterscotch held fast for a second when the other dogs started to tug on the line. Nancy felt the sled gain momentum as terror propelled the dogs to get as far from the frightening noise as they could.

The team swerved, and for a second Nancy felt the sled begin to slip. Then Butterscotch barked a short command. Though the other dogs yipped their disapproval, they obeyed. The sled continued to gain speed.

Nancy gripped the handlebar tightly and looked to her right. Craig was still there. He
gazed at her and touched a mocking hand to his cap.

In that instant, a snowshoe hare hopped across the trail. Craig's dogs swerved to the right to chase the rabbit. When he realized what was happening, Craig quickly tugged on the handlebar.

But it was too late. With a sickening thud, the sled flipped over and slammed against a tree.

There was a blur of blue as Craig let go of the handlebar. Then a small avalanche of snow came down from the tree and buried his still form in a deep drift.

N
ANCY GASPED
and turned her eyes away. For a moment she thought of stopping, but then she realized there was nothing she could do to help Craig out here.

“Home, Butterscotch, home!” Nancy cried. Quickly the sled pulled out of the forest. The wind was stronger, blowing snow into Nancy's face. Despite her heavy clothes and face mask, her fingers were numb and her face ached. The ride went on and on, like a nightmare.

At last the trail became familiar, and the dogs ran more quickly, knowing they were close to home.

At the sound of her dogs' barking, Lindsay ran from the barn. “You're safe!”

“Help George!” Nancy shouted as she pulled the dog team to a stop. With Lindsay's help, she tugged her woozy friend out from under her warm blanket of snow and wool. Quickly they bundled her into the car.

“We'd better call the police,” Nancy said as they drove to the Wilcox house.

“I already did,” Lindsay told her. “I wasn't sure where the cabin was, so I called Amanda. She gave the police directions.”

Minutes later Nancy and Lindsay supported George as they brought her into the Wilcox house. Carson and Henry ran toward the girls, a babble of questions tumbling from their lips.

Nancy held up one hand. “Wait just a minute, please,” she said with a tired laugh. She and Lindsay helped George into the den and deposited her on the couch. Then Nancy flopped down beside her.

“Okay,
now
I'm ready to talk. . . .”

• • •

“Are you sure you're okay?” Henry Wilcox asked George for at least the sixth time.

George nodded. By the time the doctor had arrived, she was already recovering from the effects of the sedative. His announcement that there was no permanent damage only confirmed what she'd been telling everyone—that she'd be fine.

The doorbell rang, and Henry jumped to his
feet. He was hoping, Nancy knew, that it was the police returning with Steve and Craig.

Nancy watched his face fall as Amanda came into the den.

“I wanted to make sure . . . everyone was okay,” Amanda said in response to Nancy's unspoken question. Something in Amanda's voice told Nancy her concern was for Steve.

“I didn't expect you,” Henry told Amanda. He started to say something more, then swallowed his words.

“You mean because your son and I aren't dating anymore?” Amanda asked.

Henry nodded.

“I guess I'm more involved in this than you know,” Amanda said. She looked at Nancy.

Nancy flashed her a warm smile. It couldn't have been easy for her to come to the Wilcox house, but here she was.

“Amanda gave me the last clues,” Nancy told her father and Henry. “It's because of her telling me about the cabin that I was able to find George.”

Amanda's smile was bittersweet. “At least one good thing came out of losing my ring.”

“Your ring? What happened?” Lindsay looked at her friend's hand and exclaimed, “You loved that ring!”

It was Amanda's turn to explain, and she made no attempt to excuse herself for her
mistakes. “I guess I was lucky that Mr. Feder was willing to buy the ring,” she said.

Henry slipped quietly out of the room.

“There's still one thing I don't know,” Lindsay said with a long look at George. “Why did Craig kidnap you in the first place?”

“I guess you could say I was in the wrong place at the wrong time,” George told her. “I woke up early, but Nancy had already gone into Anchorage, so I decided to go out to the barn. I found Craig there, loading ivory figurines into the bags of dog food.”

“He knew George would tell me about it,” Nancy continued, “so they struggled and he knocked her out. Then he put her on the sled, disguised as cargo.”

George looked at her wristwatch. “Where are they?” she asked in a worried voice.

“Steve will be okay,” Nancy answered with more confidence than she felt. By now the police should have found both Craig and Steve.

“What if the fire goes out in that cabin?” Amanda asked. “It's so cold outside. If the fire goes out, Steve could . . .” Henry walked back into the room, and she broke off.

“You don't have to mince words with me, Amanda,” Henry told her. “I'm well aware of the dangers of an Alaskan snowstorm. But I also know my son. He's a winner.”

Henry spoke with such pride that everyone in the room smiled. Nancy wished she had a tape recording. Better yet, she wished Steve were there to hear his father praise him.

Henry smiled at Amanda. “I suggest you visit Mr. Feder tomorrow. I'm going to arrange for him to sell me your ring.” A look of wonder crossed Amanda's face as Henry continued, “You and I can work out the terms of repayment.”

Amanda's smile said more than her words could. “Thank you,” she cried, hugging Henry Wilcox until he flushed with embarrassment.

Carson rose and tossed another log onto the fire. As he did, they heard the sound of someone leaning on the doorbell. Then the front door opened.

“Anyone home?” Steve yelled.

Within moments the den was empty, as everyone ran into the hallway. Steve and two police officers stood inside the front door, stomping the snow off their boots.

“You're safe!” Henry clasped his son to him, then held him at arm's length and studied him.

Steve sighed happily. “It feels great to be back, I can tell you that.” When he saw Amanda, the smile on his face told Nancy he was ready to put their past problems behind them. Then his eyes moved to George. “Are you okay?”