Escape to Morning (9 page)

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Authors: Susan May Warren

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BOOK: Escape to Morning
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She dug her cell phone out of her pocket as she waited and speed-dialed Sarah's number.

The phone rang over to voice mail. “Sarah, it's Dannette. Just wondering when you're planning on getting here. I know we're not due to leave until Friday, but—” she swallowed— “anytime is good for me. Kelly's mom has a few unused rooms, and I'll book you one or you can stay with me.” She sighed. “Okay, looking forward to seeing you.”

She clicked off, feeling slightly hollow. She had hoped that Sarah would already be here. She'd missed the paramedic's honest friendship over the past six months. If Dannette was honest with herself, she'd label the feeling loneliness. She missed the comradery of her friends—Sarah, Andee, and two former Green Berets, Jim Micah and Conner Young—who shared her love of the outdoors and her drive to care for her fellow man. Although she felt comfortable hovering on the fringes of conversation, simply being with people who cared whether she answered the telephone and knew when to pray for her soothed the losses in her life. Thankfully, she had Missy and Sherlock to fill some of the raw places.

Dannette tapped the telephone against her leg as she watched the report print out. She speed-dialed the next number.

Andee picked up after two rings. “Dannette! How are you?”

“Good. Just came in from a search last night. We were successful, and I think Kelly's dog is ready for certification.”

“That's great. Lacey and I were just talking about you, wondering how the training was going. By the way, you're only using Missy, right? Where did you board Sherlock?”

Dannette could picture Andee on the other end, her short curly black hair captured in a bandanna, flight suit bagging over her petite body. Although a sky jockey, Andee's first love was mountaineering, a skill she practiced with excellence in Alaska during the summer months.

Andee had roomed with Dannette for a year at the University of Iowa. Although Andee had eventually transferred schools, their friendship—constructed on a foundation of outdoor sports and a desire to walk with Christ—had only strengthened over time. Despite Andee's challenging upbringing, she had a quiet faith that ministered to the dark places in Dannette's heart. It was because of Andee and her commitment to her dreams and faith in God's plans that Dannette had scraped up the courage to begin work as an SAR K-9 handler. Also because of Andee, Dannette had met Sarah and then the rest of the SAR team that Sarah had dubbed Team Hope.

“Yeah, it's just me and Missy for this trip. Sherlock is staying with my father,” Dannette replied, thinking of her bloodhound. “He likes my dad's kids and doesn't get much playtime with me when I'm training with Missy.” She pulled page one of her report out of the printer, noticed a typo, and grimaced. “Hey, have you heard from Sarah?”

“Isn't she up there yet?”

“No. I called her cell phone.”

Andee laughed. “She's got it on voice mail, doesn't she?”

Dannette frowned as she tucked the phone into her shoulder. “Yeah, why?”

“She was just here—”

“Where are you?”

“Well, at the moment, I'm driving out of Lacey's driveway, but Sarah and I spent the weekend working on Lacey's wedding preparations. And Hank sorta … hung out with Conner and Micah.”

Dannette chose to ignore the stab in her heart at being left out of their lives again. “Hank still has a thing for her?”

Six months ago, while Team Hope had been searching for Lacey's lost daughter in the forests of Missouri, Park Ranger Hank Billings had caught Sarah in a tender moment, and for some reason it had ignited his interest. Dannette had to admit that there was something endearing about the six-foot-something good old boy from the hills with a twang in his voice and warm brown eyes. And the fact that he'd broken a few rules helping them locate not only the lost child but then Jim Micah, had won him a place of friendship in their tightly knit clan.

“Hank gave her yellow roses and a CD of hymns.”

Dannette smiled. “Sarah needs to loosen up, let the guy in a little.”

Andee stayed silent as Dannette's words hung between them. Trusting a guy after what Sarah had endured six years ago … well, Hank had a lot of territory to make up for.

“When did she take off?” Dannette asked, neatly changing the subject.

“Yesterday, early. I'd expect her anytime.”

“Thanks, Andee. You'll be up by Friday?” Dannette pulled out page two and stapled the pages together.

“For sure. I wouldn't miss it. Be safe.”

Dannette heard the smile in Andee's voice, and it ministered to that lonely place inside her. She clicked off, tucked the phone in her pocket, packed up the laptop, and headed toward the lobby. She stopped in Fadden's office and dropped the report on his desk, again relieved that he wasn't holding court.

She was entering the lobby when an elderly couple breezed into the office. Dressed in jeans, white tennis shoes, and down jackets, they looked like RVers—retirees who spent their spry years tooling around the country in a thirty-foot home on wheels. She glanced out the plate-glass window and spied their rig in the corner of the parking lot.

“We want to report a … lost child.”

Dannette's ears pricked up and she halted by the door. Those two words strung together in a sentence still had the power to stop her cold in her tracks.

The woman leaned on the counter, trying to attract the receptionist's attention. “Please, I think there is a girl lost in the forest.”

The receptionist/dispatcher looked up from her desk. Mary wore the brown uniform of the local law-enforcement crew, and it did nothing to soften her pushing-fifty curves. “Do you wish to file a report?”

The man stepped up behind his wife. “We want you to do something about it.”

“Can I help you?” The words flew out of Dannette's mouth nearly of their own accord.

The couple turned toward Dannette.

The woman's appearance tugged at a soft place in Dannette. Pudgy, wrinkled face, white hair, gentle worried eyes. “We were in the rest area about twenty miles north of here and saw a girl, maybe fifteen, sitting at a picnic table. She seemed … lost. We just wanted to ask where her parents were, but when we made to approach her, she backed away from us. She had a backpack, but she wasn't dressed for hiking. She wore tennis shoes and jeans and a light jacket and looked dirty, like she'd spent the night in the forest. We offered her breakfast, and for a second we thought she was going to accept. Then a truck pulled up, and she ran. We called to her, but she kept running, as if someone was chasing her.” Her voice quavered. “I think she was afraid of someone.”

The man clamped his hand on his wife's shoulder. “Two men got out of the pickup, and when they came down to the picnic area, they asked if we'd seen a young girl.” His face reddened, and his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat. “We lied.”

His wife touched his hand, glanced up at Dannette. “Will you go look for her? I think she must be in trouble.”

Dannette felt herself nodding even as she saw Fadden in her peripheral vision.
Oh, super timing
.

He marched up to the group, wearing a forced smile. “Can I ask you two to fill out a report?” he said to the couple. “Miss Lundeen, a word?”

Dannette followed him, anger boiling in her chest. A quick look at the rest area didn't mean a full call-out, manpower that costs hours. Just she and Missy, sniffing out some clues. “What?”

Fadden shook his head. “If she was a runaway, her parents would have called.”

“Unless they don't want our help. Doesn't that sound in the least bit fishy to you?”

Fadden glanced at the couple, gave them a wide smile, nodded. “Don't get my department involved in something we're not prepared to follow through on.”

“A missing child?” Dannette couldn't help her tone. “Or do you have to be related to the mayor to get any help around here?”

Fadden narrowed his eyes, then sighed and strode away, leaving Dannette frowning after him.

“Don't mind him, honey,” Mary said to Dannette. “He's … well, there're forces at work here you don't know anything about. It has nothing to do with you.” She handed the form to the elderly couple. “Please fill this out.”

Mary pulled Dannette toward her desk, lowered her voice. “The thing is, Moose Bend had an incident about seven years back. Three lost hikers. Kids, really, out for the weekend in early spring. Storm came in, and their parents got worried. After three days, the state sent in dogs. Got everyone worked up. Filled 'em with hope.”

Dannette's chest tightened. How many times had she heard the same story? She could finish it for her but waited for Mary's next words.

“The dogs couldn't find them, and a month later a hiker came across their bodies. Hypothermia.” She looked at the elderly couple in the reception area. “The sheriff 's nephew was one of those lost. There's still hurt there. Some in the community don't think we should be spending time on dogs when we need equipment and more manpower instead.”

Dannette looked away from her. Mary had just voiced the reason why K-9 search and rescue was still mostly a volunteer activity with little monetary compensation.

Well, Dannette worked for other compensation.

“We all appreciate your hard work,” Mary continued. “Especially that you helped find Mrs. Hanson. But Fadden's right. We don't have the funds to outfit or tend a K-9 unit. And we especially don't have funds to go traipsing after the flimsy report of a couple of vacationers. This girl probably had a fight with her boyfriend. Kids hang out at the rest area all the time— sometimes overnight.”

She gave Dannette a steady look. “If Fadden thought there was any truth to it, he'd send a cruiser out. I promise. He's a good man, caught between two forces.”

Dannette let those words hang between them for a moment. Obviously, despite Mary's tell-all posture, she was one of those who didn't support Dannette's K-9 work. Dannette shot a look at Fadden's closed door. “Did he get any sleep last night?”

Mary gave a hint of a smile. “A couple hours. His wife brought him breakfast.”

“Listen, I'm going to go out and do a hasty search. See what I can dig up.”

Mary shrugged. “It's your hide. But if Fadden finds out, we didn't have this conversation. And, just between you and me, I don't feel good about this. They don't know for sure that group up in Silver Creek killed that fella. And I'm not feeding into any rumors, but there could be someone out there living in the woods, warped and very dangerous. It's happened before, and I'd hate to have you stumble into trouble. Or get hurt.”

“I'll be careful.”

“You'd better be. Because after we rescue you, Fadden will personally pack your bags and make sure you're safely on the other side of the border. It won't be pretty.”

Dannette nodded, not liking the visual picture Mary's words conjured up.

Mary's expression softened. “Make sure you get yourself a slice of banana bread on your way out.”

Dannette headed out to her truck. She had too many nightmares not to follow the cry of a lost child, regardless of what it cost her.

Chapter 6

WILL'S REPORTER/AGENT instincts ignited as he sat in the sheriff 's office parking lot and watched Miss Dannette I-Hate-Reporters Lundeen stride to her pickup.

He'd hate to get between her and her next mission. She wore the look of a special-ops soldier—her eyes hard, even angry, as she slammed her door and peeled out of the lot. Still, mad and determined was a whole lot better than wounded and gun-shy. He'd relived the betrayed expression on her face one too many times while he scouted through the forest after the runaway Hayata operative. A search that had not only been fruitless but had nearly gotten him caught—twice.

By the time dawn fractured the night sky, he'd headed home, frustrated. He'd taken a hot shower, wiped off the war paint, and grabbed three hours of shut-eye before Jeff Anderson, his handler, called him from HQ.

He had the phone to his ear before he even knew he was awake. “Hello?”

“We unraveled Simon's message,” came Jeff 's calm voice. “It's a code word.”

“A password?” Will's voice had betrayed his lack of sleep.

“No, an identifier. We think the package General Nazar is sending is … his daughter. Sources listed her on a flight from Kazakhstan to Canada two days ago. She might be in America by now.”

Will had winced, feeling punched right in the center of his gut. Nazar's
daughter
. “Amina is the name by which she was supposed to identify herself to Simon,” he guessed.

“Right,” Jeff said. “It goes without saying that if Simon was compromised, you and she may have been also. If we don't find her—and soon—they will kill her. Maybe they already have.”

Will sat up, rubbed his eyes with a finger and thumb. The sunlight streamed through the milky curtains onto the wooden planked floor of his cabin. “No, I think she's alive. Or was as of last night.”

“What are you talking about?”

Will swallowed, pretty sure that any way he phrased his next words they would incriminate him. “I went up for a sneak and peek around the property. I saw a young girl steal out of the compound.”

Jeff was silent.

Will cringed.
Yes, I disobeyed orders
. But he hadn't spent the last year pecking out words on his computer and hanging around the local police station to let Homeland Security's best shot at destroying the Hayata cells and thwarting another devastating attack on American soil sift through his fingers.

“Then I'm not sure if this is good or bad news. General Nazar said that he wasn't leaving until the package was safe. Which means, I guess, until his daughter is in custody and hidden out of Hayata's reach. He said that the package would inform us how to contact him.”

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