“If you’re sure.”
Lance glanced in the direction Amber and Sam had gone. “I’m sure.” Maybe by the time he heard Amber’s story and put the pieces to this puzzle together, he’d think of a way to convince her to bring her brother, the sheriff of Wrangler’s Corner, into her small circle of trust.
Amber put one wet, frozen foot in front of the other as she led the way to the cabin. Her adrenaline was crashing and so was her energy. She’d been awake almost two straight days. If she didn’t get some sleep soon, her body was going to quit on her. Fortunately, Sam was in a good mood and seemed content to follow her lead. Of course, he’d slept a good bit of the drive and she’d just carried him through the water so his feet would stay dry. Once she explained to him why she needed to carry him, he acquiesced. Sometimes logic worked with him, sometimes not. She was thankful he’d made it easy on her this time.
Amber finally reached the flower bed and pulled her gloves from her hands. She dug through the dirt and leaves in the place she knew the turtle used to be. Her fingers touched a hard surface, and she brushed the refuse away. It was still there. “Thank you, God. Now please, let the key be there, too,” she whispered.
“Thank you, God,” Sam mimicked her.
Amber lifted the turtle and the once-silver key lay on the small patch of dirt. She snatched it up and headed for the back door. Sam plodded along beside her. She shivered. “You ready to get warmed up?”
He didn’t answer and she didn’t expect him to. She tested the knob and it was locked as she’d figured it would be. She inserted the key and twisted. Nothing. What? “Oh come on,” she muttered. She tried again. Still nothing. She slapped the door with her palm. Tried the key again.
And it turned.
She sucked in a breath and pushed the door open. “Hello? Anyone here?” She didn’t think so, but it didn’t hurt to use a bit of caution. She kept her hand on her weapon and Sam behind her. “Hello?” The house echoed back at her. The musty odor filled her nose, and she knew no one had been in the home for a while. It was cold inside. Almost as cold as it was outside.
She just prayed the power and water were still on. Her stomach rumbled reminding her they needed to eat something. The beef jerky, jar of peanut butter and bag of crackers in the backpack might have to suffice.
She pushed the door open farther and stepped inside. Her feet felt like blocks of ice but she couldn’t do anything about that just yet. Sam followed and she shut and locked the door behind him. “All right, let’s see if this works.” She reached for the light switch and flipped it up. A low glow came from the lamp on the end table. She let out a small breath of relief. Power was on. Now to clear the house. She checked on Sam who huddled in his coat, his game still clutched in his right hand. “You okay?”
“Yes.” Sam walked to the couch and sat down. Amber blinked at the fact that he’d answered her this time. She’d never figure out how his mind worked. And that was okay. For the past four years that she’d known Sam, she’d followed Nadia’s example and talked to him like she would any other six-year-old. Sometimes he answered, sometimes he didn’t.
She leaned over and unlaced her wet boots and kicked them off. Her socks squished against the hardwoods as she made her way to the thermostat on the wall. If the power was on, there should be heat, right? Please let there be heat, God.
Because she really didn’t feel like trying to find dry wood to start a fire in the fireplace.
She flipped the switch and heard a rumble in the back of the house as the furnace came to life. Oh, thank You, thank You. The Landerses’ children might not have wanted anything to do with the cabin, but they’d been paying the power bill. Which meant they probably had water, too. She searched the cabin for a laundry room and found the stackable washer and dryer in the hall. Just where she remembered it being.
Amber pulled her socks off, grabbed her boots and threw them in the dryer. It started right up, but the thunk, thunk of her boots had her worried. She found several towels in the bathroom and tossed them in with her boots. Now the thunks were muted, and she didn’t think anyone would be able to hear it from outside. She turned the oven on high and opened the door. It would heat fast and help warm the area. She’d be sure to turn it down as soon as they were comfortable.
She could smell the odor from the heating unit. It hadn’t been used in a while. At the sink, she turned on the faucet and water rushed into the basin and swirled down the drain.
Perfect.
She turned to see Sam still in his coat, sitting on the sofa and playing his game. Amber walked over to him and unlaced his boots. “Might as well get comfortable, kiddo.” She sighed and looked at the shoes in her hands. The sole of the left one was coming off. “We’re going to have to get you some new shoes soon.”
“No new shoes. Boots.”
“Okay. New boots then.”
“No. Old boots.” He fell silent and continued to focus on the game.
Amber pursed her lips. “What is it about these boots that you like so much anyway?”
Sam didn’t acknowledge her question and she didn’t force the issue. He had two pairs of shoes he’d wear without a tantrum. The ones she’d just removed from his feet and the pair sitting in his closet at the home he’d never return to.
She set the boots on the floor, walked to the windows near the back door and glanced out. Darkness had fallen but the full moon allowed her to see fairly well outside. The lake looked like a dark pool of black ink surrounded by trees and white snow. She could see her footsteps leading up from the lake and prayed that the people after them wouldn’t think to look in the backyards of the homes surrounding the lake. Or that the once-again falling snow would fill in the tracks before they started looking.
Amber moved to the front windows, scanning the area. The driveway branched off into a side road that led to the main road she’d been traveling when the goons had shot at her.
She glanced at her phone. Her untraceable throwaway phone. And was very tempted to dial her brother Clay’s number. She bit her lip, indecision warring inside her. Her handler would be waiting for her to call, to let her know where she was. Or did she already know?
For the first time since her flight with Sam, she had a moment to think. Kathryn Petrov. Her handler and friend, a woman Amber could trust with her life. Or so she thought. She and Kat had been through a lot together, and she never would have imagined the woman capable of betrayal. Now she didn’t know what to think or who to trust.
The knock on the door froze her for a split second. Sam didn’t bother to look up from his game. Amber slid her weapon into her hand and stepped on bare feet over to the door.
Another knock. “Amber, it’s me, Lance. Let me in. I’m freezing.”
She slid her gun back into the holster and opened the door. When he stepped inside, he squished. “You walked in the lake, too?” she asked.
“Yes. I walked in your prints. I left my SUV at the site of the wreck.” He held up a suitcase. “But I brought this.”
“Oh,
