Classified Christmas Mission

He caught sight of headlights just ahead on the sharp curve and slowed. “Let me go. I need to concentrate in this weather. You’re right, it’s getting nasty.”

“Supposed to get nastier. See you in a few.”

He hung up and focused on keeping the Ford Police Interceptor on his side of the road. The headlights came closer. Followed by a second set. Who was crazy enough to be out in this mess besides him?

He passed the first car and blinked. Even through the falling snow, he’d caught a glimpse of the driver when the wiper scraped the moisture from the windshield. Amber Starke? What was she doing here? Neither Clay nor Seth—and more importantly, Amber’s mother—had mentioned she’d planned to come home for a visit. Or had they just neglected to mention it to him?

A loud crack split the quiet mountainside and Lance flinched then stepped on the brakes. His Interceptor responded beautifully in spite of the ice and he pulled to a stop. Chills swept over him. He’d heard that sound before. Had heard it often out here in the Tennessee hills. A gunshot.

When he looked back he saw Amber’s SUV spin and then plunge over the side of the mountain. The vehicle behind her never stopped, just roared past.

For the third time that day, his adrenaline pumped into overdrive. He grabbed the radio just below the dash and called it in even as he executed a three-point turn in the middle of the freezing road.

“Lance?” Gretchen, the Wrangler’s Corner second shift dispatcher, answered.

“I’ve got a wreck on Jasper Road, Gretch. I need some backup. And probably an ambulance.”

“It’s going to take them a while to get there in this mess.”

“I know. I’ve got my first aid kit in the car. I’ll be doing what I can. Just tell them to hurry.” Trained as a first responder, he had the knowledge and the equipment to help. He just hoped it would be enough.

Gretchen put out the call and Lance pulled to a stop on the side of the road. His heart pounded as he climbed out, alert and looking to make sure the shooter wasn’t doubling back.

He didn’t see any sign of that so he headed to the edge to look over. He saw the tracks disappear under an overhang. He dropped to his knees and tried to see. Relief shot through him. Amber’s SUV had only gone down the slight slope, under the overhang, and wedged itself between two trees. He could see the back of it, just barely jutting out. Now he just had to find out if the bullet had done any bodily damage.

He looked at the space between him and her car. White space. It looked like snow, but could be ice. He ran to the back of his SUV and opened the back. He grabbed the hundred-foot-length rope that he always carried with him and hefted it over his shoulder with a grunt. He lugged it to the front of the Ford and tied one end to the grill then tossed the rest down to Amber’s car. It reached, but barely. It would have to do. With one more glance over his shoulder, he grasped hold of the rope and slipped and slid down the embankment to the car. Once he reached the back, he was able to duck under the overhang and squeeze himself between the rock and the driver’s door.

Amber lay against the wheel, eyes closed. Fear shot through. Please let her be all right. He reached for the door handle and pulled it open. It hit the rock, but there was enough room for her to get out if she wasn’t too badly hurt.

Amber lifted her head, and he found himself staring down the barrel of a gun.

TWO (#u16a06754-c547-5bb3-b3ec-0df9084834d8)

Amber processed who stood before her and lowered her weapon with relief. “Lance?”

“Yeah. Are you all right? Someone shot at you!”

She scowled. “I’m fine.” She hadn’t been hurt when she’d placed her head on the steering wheel, she just wanted the person who approached the car to think she was. “And I sort of figured out that someone was shooting, thanks.” Sam! She released her seat belt and spun to see the boy staring at them, the game still clutched in his hand. He was safe. Unhurt, as well. His seat belt had done the job. His gaze flicked from her to Lance then back to her. Then down to the game he still clutched. He wasn’t even fazed—or curious about what had just happened.

“I’ve got backup on the way,” Lance said. “Let’s get you two out of the car and into mine. I’ve got the heater running.”

She snapped her head up. “Cancel that backup. We’re fine and don’t need help.”

“What?”

She hated repeating herself. Especially when she was in a hurry. “Tell them we’re fine and they don’t need to come.”

“I can’t do that. Someone shot at you. There will be an investigation.”

She shoved out of the vehicle. “There can’t be an investigation because no one can know I’m here, you understand? This never happened.” He gaped, then narrowed his eyes and tightened his jaw. She ran a shaky hand through her hair. Great. Now what? This was Lance, the most stubborn man in the town. She was going to have to read him in. But first—“Help me get Sam to the old Landers cabin and I’ll explain everything.”

“That cabin’s been empty since June. After Mrs. Landers died, her kids didn’t want anything to do with it.”

“I know. That’s the point.” She popped the trunk and pulled the two backpacks from it. She’d have to get the suitcase later.

“You can’t leave the scene of the accident.”

“I don’t have a choice. No one else is involved, no one is hurt. I can leave. Now you can be a friend and help me or stay here, but we’re leaving. And don’t tell anyone you saw me or Sam, got it?”

“Why?”

She wanted to stomp her foot and yell at him. Instead she took a deep breath. “Because whoever just shot at us and ran us off the road isn’t going to stop there. They’ll be back, and I want to be gone when they show back up.”

“Why is someone trying to kill you?”

Frustration pounded through her. “I don’t have time to explain right now. Help me get to the cabin and I’ll tell you everything.”

He hesitated for a fraction of a second more then gave a low groan and punched his phone’s screen with quick jabs. “Gretchen? Yeah. Cancel the backup. Yes, I’m sure. We’re good.”

Lance grabbed the backpacks from her. Amber moved to the back passenger door on the side away from the overhang, reached in and grabbed two heavy coats from where they’d fallen to the floorboard. “Come on, Sam, we have to go.” He ignored her. The sirens grew closer then went silent. “Sam. Number One Mom would want you to come with me.”

He didn’t look up, but scooted across the seat and out the door, his gaze still on his game. She gave a sigh of relief. She never was very sure what would work with him and what wouldn’t. Telling him his mother wanted him to do something seemed wrong, but if it was to save his life she’d do it. She held his coat for him and after a brief hesitation, he allowed her to help him put it on. She zipped it and pulled a hat on his head. “Gloves are in your pockets, Sam.” He simply stood there. “Sam? Your hands will get cold if you don’t put on the gloves.” She reached for the first pocket and he stepped back.

“No.”

She placed a hand on his arm and he didn’t pull away. She was never sure if she could touch him or not. They’d forgo the gloves for now. “Sam, I have to hold you while we walk up with the rope, okay?”

“Will he let me piggyback him?” Lance asked.

“No. Probably not.” She slipped her arms into her coat and zipped it. Then she got Sam’s attention and pointed. “See? We have to climb the rope up to the top.” He didn’t acknowledge her. She wrapped an arm around his waist with one hand and grasped the rope with the other. “Walk with me, Sam.” At first he resisted. Tried to pull away from her. She let him go and he slipped and fell on his rear. She held out a hand. “I have to help you, okay?” She reached for his arm again and helped him up. When he didn’t pull away, she scooted him behind her. “Walk in my steps. Count how many steps it takes to get to the top, will you?” She started off again, Lance staying silent behind Sam. She knew if the boy fell again, he’d catch him.

This time Sam put one foot in front of the other. “Good job, Sam.” He was either too distracted to notice her touch or just didn’t care at the moment. He let her lead, stepping carefully into the footprints she left in the snow. He held the game at his side, forgotten in this new adventure of “step in Amber’s steps.” His other hand clutched her belt and she heard him counting under his breath.

Amber led the way, memories of exploring these woods with her brothers and Lance crowded her mind. She’d had a great childhood, running free without a care in the world—except when one of those brothers took it upon himself to tease her...or scare her...or talk her into doing something that would get her in trouble with her parents. Yes, those were good times. Times that seemed like a hundred years ago.

And now she was running from killers. With a special-needs child to keep safe. She’d do it or die trying, but she had to admit, the responsibility scared her to death. Almost more than being caught by the people chasing them. Once they were in Lance’s car, she would find the road that led to the cabin. Or she could just let Lance get them there. She glanced at the man beside her. He would remember which road to take.

She kept her gun within reach, nerves humming since she halfway expected someone to jump out of the trees. But that was silly. Finally, she crested the hill. She let go of the rope and led Sam to stand next to the Ford.

“Why is someone shooting at you?” Lance said as he caught up with her.

He wanted to discuss this now? “Because I have something they want.”

She spotted the road she’d been looking for. “And there it is. We almost made it.” The exertion had kept them warm but she knew that once they weren’t moving, she would be cold. Very cold. “How many steps, Sam?”

“Sixty-seven.”

He always answered her questions about numbers. Such an interesting kid. And she loved him fiercely.