Snowed In

“What about Emily?” Sarah said. “If he took her hostage, she’d be able to identify him.”

“Bad luck for her,” Kovak said.

“Maybe not,” Blake said. “He seemed concerned about her well-being and wanted her blindfolded. It’s hard to believe he intends to hurt her.”

“Kidnapping is a serious crime,” Kovak said. “Even if the kidnapper isn’t a pro, he won’t want to leave a witness.”

Sarah shuddered to think what might have happened if she and Emily hadn’t gotten away at the clearing. They hadn’t been prepared for danger. As trusting as Hansel and Gretel—or Gretel and Gretel—they’d followed a text message into the forest. Though she’d told Blake she was sorry, she couldn’t help blaming him for not warning them.

“We need a plan,” he said. “This might be our only chance to catch this guy.”

“I can call for more backup,” Kovak said.

“Not enough time. He expects Farley to show up soon.” Blake gave a decisive nod. “And that’s what we’ll do. I’ll take Farley’s van and wear a ski mask. Kovak, you follow at a distance in my SUV. We’ll keep in touch by phone. When I get close to the Laughing Dog, I’ll put in another call to this guy. I’ll distract him. You approach from behind. And we’ll take him into custody.”

“What about me?” Sarah asked.

“You’ve done enough,” Blake said. “The other deputy is taking Farley to jail to book him. You can ride with him.”

“Hold on,” Kovak said. “What if our kidnapper wants to see Emily? Sarah could impersonate her.”

“No way,” Sarah said. “We don’t look anything alike.”

“She’s right,” Blake said. “They both have light-colored hair and are close to the same height, but that’s where the resemblance ends. Emily is pale and dainty. Jeremy says she’s like a perfect white rose.”

And what did that make her? A big, old, prickly cactus?

Kovak squinted at her. “From a distance, Sarah looks kind of like Emily, especially if she’s got a blindfold covering half her face.”

She muttered, “Or I could just put a bag over my head.”

Blake ignored her and spoke directly to Kovak. “How well do you know Sarah?”

“Pretty well.” He shrugged. “Why do you ask?”

“Most cops hate to have civilians involved, but you don’t seem to have a problem with pulling Sarah along.”

“We’ve worked together before.” Kovak clapped her on the back. “Sarah regularly volunteers for mountain rescues. I’ve seen her in action, and she knows how to handle pressure.”

“Thanks.” She gave him a grin.

“To tell the truth, I’d rather have you setting the belaying lines for a descent than most of the guys in the sheriff’s department.”

“Good to know,” Blake said as he headed toward Farley’s van. “Sarah rides with me.”

With Kovak’s praise ringing in her ears, she strode along beside Blake. Maybe she wasn’t a delicate flower like Emily, but she was the first woman the deputy would pick to play on his team. She’d always been “one of the guys.” Not homecoming queen. Not the girl with tons of dates on Saturday nights. But men were comfortable around her and trusted her.

The interior of Farley’s van was, predictably, cluttered and grungy with a gross smell of stale bread, gunpowder and sweat. In addition to the litter—crumpled wrappers from fast-food places, empty ammo boxes and discarded clothes—there were filthy, blood-soaked rags, reminding her of the wounded men who had been arrested. She remembered her jolt of fear while watching the armed men and Blake circling the cabin.

She glanced over at him as he got behind the steering wheel. If she mentioned that she’d been scared, she knew he wouldn’t want her to come along on this ride. With a shake of her head, she dismissed her nerves and concentrated on what needed to be done. “What should I use as a blindfold?”

“There must be something in here.”

“Excuse me?” She wrinkled her nose. “I’m not touching anything in this van, much less putting it against my skin.”

“See what you can figure using your clothes.” He started the engine and pulled away from the cabin. “Do you know where the Laughing Dog is located?”

“Go left, then take a right at the main road.” She unzipped her parka and looked down at what she was wearing. Her baggy sweater, jeans and underwear didn’t provide much of a selection. “Instead of a blindfold, I could pull my cap down over my eyes.”

“I don’t expect to get close enough for this guy to make out details, but you heard him on the phone. He wants Emily blindfolded.”

“Don’t you have a scarf?”

“Don’t you?”

There was an item of her clothing that might work. “I suppose I could use my bra. It’s black.”

“Is it lacy? Does it have those cups that poke out?”

“It’s a sports bra.” She couldn’t believe she was discussing her underwear with him. “A cotton and spandex blend.”

“Let me take a look at it.”

Glaring at him, she took off her parka and pulled both arms inside her sweater. She wriggled the strap off one arm, pulled the bra over her head and took off the other strap. Though she hadn’t exposed an inch of flesh, she felt exposed, and she was glad the lights from the dashboard weren’t bright enough to reveal the heat she felt rising in her cheeks. At least she wasn’t scared anymore.

Plunging her arms back into the sweater sleeves, she dangled the bra in front of him. “Ta-da.”

“The perfect blindfold.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re not going to have a bra wrapped around your face.”

“It won’t be for long,” he promised. “This maneuver needs to happen fast before the guy figures out what we’re doing. It goes without saying that you’ll stay in the van.”

“I understand.” She slipped back into her parka. “I have a question for you. If this person is trying to threaten the general, why kidnap Emily?”

“The general himself isn’t a realistic target. He’s a tough old bird, and he’s usually protected by his aides. If the kidnapper had Emily, he could use her as leverage.”

“To do what?”

“Could be something as simple as ransom,” he said. “Or it could involve having the general change his position on some kind of finance bill. Attacking the family makes for an effective scare tactic. When it comes to his own personal safety, the general is fearless. But his family? He’d do anything—including going against his core principles—to protect them.”

It sounded to her like he’d had some experience with this sort of operation. “Have you done things like this before?”

“I did some counterintelligence work in the Middle East, enough to know that terrorists don’t always use explosives to get what they want. Fear is a powerful motivator.”

Though she’d never been to war, she had an idea of what he meant. “You can’t give in to fear.”

“Can’t ignore it, either,” he said as he clipped a hands-free phone into his ear. “I’m going to check in with Kovak.”