Love Inspired Suspense January 2014 (54 page)

Hugh's eyebrows shot up as Max recounted the abduction attempt. “Man,” Peterson muttered. “Ancho really is getting desperate.” He flashed a wolfish grin. “Excellent.”

“You hinted before that my dad was involved. How?” Laney said.

Hugh blinked. “Listen, kid. It's not easy being a dad. I know. I've tried and failed. Dan doesn't want to talk to me, and I get that. He did what he had to do. Unfortunately, he didn't realize who he was dealing with.”

“What does that mean?” Laney snapped. “Please stop talking in riddles.”

“All right, facts only. But later. I have to go, I'll be in touch.” He slid over a card.

Max read
Sports World Magazine
in tiny gold letters.

“I do write for a sports magazine. Check it out.” He fixed Laney with a look. “And I really will pay for an interview, because when I get to the bottom of this, there's going to be quite a story to tell.”

They watched him leave, and Max fought the desire to chase after him and force him to answer more questions. He was worried about Laney, who was crumpling and smoothing a napkin on the tabletop. “Do you think he's telling us the truth?”

“I don't know. I'll check out his place of business and dig up anything else I can find on him when we get back. His story could support Nolan's about the white car he found at the junkyard.”

“If Ancho covered up the crime, and he thinks I can remember the accident and somehow incriminate him, why not just kill me?”

Max swallowed hard. “Peterson may have it all wrong. We're not sure he can be trusted.”

Laney spoke slowly, her tone wooden. “Ancho said there were people who didn't want me to compete. People, he said.” She stared at the ball of napkin in her hand. “People besides Trevor Ancho? Who?”

The sudden rush of fear in her face struck at him. He gathered her close to his chest and pressed his mouth to her ear. “I won't let anything happen to you, Laney. I promise.” Over the top of her head, he could not believe his eyes as he watched Trevor Ancho amble into the coffeehouse.

THIRTEEN

L
aney felt Max's arms tighten around her. “Ancho's here,” he breathed into her ear. The name started tremors rushing through her body. “Lean against me. We'll hope he doesn't notice you.”

He couldn't hurt her in this very public place, yet her heart still pounded as she sneaked a peek. Ancho was dressed in jeans and a jacket, a knit cap on his head. He made genial small talk with the barista, whom he knew by name, and paid for his coffee—large, black, with room. As he stopped to pour in milk and stir the drink, he gazed around the crowded shop. Was it her imagination that his attention landed on Tanya, Beth and Jackie for a moment longer? Lingering there with something more than casual interest? Slowly, nonchalantly, he turned toward the booth where Max and Laney sat huddled.

Raising the coffee to his mouth, a smile curved across his face as he looked at them. Fear shifted abruptly to something else and she sat up, tossed her hair away from her eyes and looked straight back at him, as if he was a competitor she was ready to defeat on the ice. Mind games—she was plenty familiar with those. He beamed a genial smile at her, making no move to either approach or leave.

“I'm going to go talk to him,” Max muttered angrily.

“No.” She clamped a hand on his arm. “He's well-known here, and we're the strangers. No one will believe he's doing anything but enjoying a cup of coffee in his favorite shop.”

Max's nostrils flared, his jaw tight. “He's taunting you.”

“Let him bring his A game, then,” she said, not releasing him. “I've been baited by competitors from all over the world. He hasn't got anything on them.”

“Way to go, Birdie,” he murmured, the sheen of admiration in his glance making her warm inside. “I knew that training was worth something.”

She continued to watch as a skinny man in a black apron approached to tidy up the milk station. Ancho greeted him with a slap on the back and a warm smile. They talked quietly, Ancho seeming to listen attentively as the man wiped the counter and left.

Ancho once again turned his attention to Laney. One more sip, another enigmatic smile over the rim of his mug. He winked at her.

I'm watching you.

So watch. Watch me beat you at your own game.

Ancho greeted a few more of the seated customers as he headed back to the door. Pausing on the threshold, he took a last lazy sip and left. She heaved a sigh of relief, and Max's rigid posture relaxed.

“Sizing us up?” Max suggested.

“Not sure.” She stretched as she stood, muscles complaining from her earlier training. “I'm going to visit the little skater's room and then we'd better go.”

“All right. I'll check outside and see if Ancho has really left.” He got up, lips still pursed in that way that meant he was turning over the interview with Peterson in his mind. On impulse she got on tiptoe and kissed the frown line on his forehead, not caring if Beth or the others saw her do it. “You're the only person I'd want next to me through this, Max.”

His mouth twitched. “We'll do more than get through it, we'll ride it all the way to the finish line. Together.” The last word was light and delicate like a snowflake falling from his lips, or a paper bird floating on a cool winter breeze.

She wanted to tell him that he meant so much more to her than a trainer, that he stirred emotion deep in her soul that felt, sometimes, an awful lot like love. Instead, she flashed him a smile and turned to hide the flood of tenderness that washed through her.

“See you in a minute,” Max said.

She watched him push through the front door before she headed down the narrow corridor to the ladies' room.

The hazy mirror in the bathroom reflected her image back in unflattering detail. Her hair was mussed, spots of anger showed on her cheeks and there was not so much as a dot of gloss on her lips.

She dashed some water on her face and used wet fingers to plaster her hair back into some semblance of order. She was reaching for a paper towel when the lights went out, plunging the room into darkness.

The one window was small and high, providing only a glimmer of light. From outside there was a clamor of voices, people moving cautiously, occasional shouts. General noises of confusion. The whole shop must be blacked out. Someone ran into a power pole? Plausible explanation, but it did not seem to calm her racing pulse.

All right. Forget drying hands. She reached for the door and pushed.

It was wedged tight. She banged on it with a flat palm. “Hey, somebody let me out.”

She doubted if she could be heard by the milling patrons in the other room, but surely one of the workers would take notice. As the seconds ticked by with no response, she fumbled for her phone to call Max, nearly crying out in frustration when she realized she'd left it in Max's truck.

Great time to forget your cell phone, Laney. Dumb, dumb, dumb.

“Help,” she shouted again, rattling the handle, which turned easily, but did not release the door. Dropping to her knees, she could not see anything impeding it, until she realized it was wedged from the other side.

Someone had locked her in.

Not someone. Ancho.

Nerves sparking, she kicked at the door hard enough to make the wood shudder, yelling until she ran out of air. When she stopped for breath she heard movement on the other side. “Is anyone out there?”

“Oh, yes,” came a man's voice. “But don't you worry, I'm coming in.”

Her body iced in fear. “Ancho?” she whispered.

There was no answer, only a hiss of soft laughter.

“I'm going to scream,” she forced out. “Loud.”

After a long pause he answered in a half whisper with his mouth pressed to the crack in the door. “I hope so.”

The fear bubbled thick inside her, overwhelming her confidence and tensing her muscles for flight. Over the hubbub outside, her screams might not make much difference. Max would realize soon that she hadn't come out, but getting through the crowd would take time, and now the handle of the door was rattling.

“Ready or not,” he said.

She backed up until the porcelain of the sink pressed hard against her back. She'd fight him to the last ounce of her strength, she'd fight with every fiber and sinew, but he was strong and crazy.

Think, Laney. God gave you a mind, so use it.

Only two exits, the door and the window. The door was out of the question.

In a moment she'd climbed up on the sink and unlocked the window, sliding the heavily mildewed glass aside. It left only about a ten-inch-square opening and she was not sure her muscled thighs would fit through.
If they don't, he'll be left to deal with my feet,
she thought, wishing she had those razor-sharp blades strapped to her soles at that moment. She grabbed the sill and shoved her head through. The night air stung her face and she realized the window opened up onto the back of the shop, a wood-fenced area housing a Dumpster and empty pallets. The place stank of garbage but there was no room for squeamishness. She shoved and wriggled her way until her torso cleared the window.

Almost through.

From there she began to shove and twist her way past the frame. Over her panting and the creak of the protesting sill, she heard the sound of the bathroom door opening behind her.

* * *

Max did not see Ancho's truck on the street or the side streets, neither was there any sign of a fancy sports car, though he did not think Ancho would be stupid enough to drive it. He had the Aston Martin tucked away somewhere in one of his warehouses, probably. As Max returned to the shop he saw that the interior was black except for a half-dozen cell phones turning into makeshift flashlights by the patrons. Power outage? Now? He dialed Laney's number. No answer. Pulse pounding, he jogged back to the store, navigating through a wave of people exiting the shop in stumbling fashion as if they were sleepwalking. Inside, at the end of a hallway, he saw two employees struggling with a panel, one holding a flashlight for the other.

“What's wrong?”

A young man, no more than twenty with hair pulled into a ponytail, yanked at a metal panel with a pry bar. “Some joker turned off the breakers and jammed the door to the electrical panel shut.”

Some joker? He had a feeling he knew exactly who had done it by circling around the back entrance after he'd pretended to leave. Max left them to their efforts and moved as quickly as he could toward the back where Laney had gone to use the restroom. All the while his heart hammered hard against his ribs and he did not allow himself to think about the details.

Just find her.

Someone bumped into him. Tanya's face shone oddly by her cell-phone light. “Max?”

“Yeah. Where's Laney?”

“Jackie went to find her.”

“Beth?”

Tanya shrugged. “Dunno. Lost track of her when she excused herself to feed the parking meter. This is weird, huh?”

She didn't know how weird. He steered her toward the exit. “Wait outside. I'll find Jackie and Beth.”

Tanya held her phone in one hand and used the other to feel her way along. Max took out his phone and activated the flashlight app. There were only about a dozen people left in the shop; some sat as though a loss of power was commonplace, waiting until the lights were restored.

This blackout was anything but commonplace. He shoved chairs out of his way and moved faster.

“We're asking everyone to please leave, sir,” said the skinny guy who had been cleaning up the milk station. “Just until we get the power back up.”

“My friend is in the bathroom. I need to be sure she's okay.”

The kid put a hand up. “She's probably outside safe and sound. I need you to go back out the front door now.”

Was the guy in on it? Max straightened to full height. “I'm going to check on her, unless you think you're going to stop me.”

He'd kept his tone level, his distance appropriate, but the guy got the message anyway. Shrugging, he stepped back out of the way. Max shuffled as quickly as he could to the back hallway.

He found Jackie stepping out of the bathroom, a frown on her face.

“Is Laney in there?”

“No.”

His hands balled into fists. “Well, where is she?”

“It's ridiculous, but the window is open. I think it opens to the back parking lot.”

Max made it to the rear exit when the lights flicked on. He shoved through the door into the back lot, relief flooding through him when he found Laney, breathing hard, smudges of dirt on her face. He ran to her.

“What happened?”

“Ancho locked me in the bathroom,” she panted. “He was after me, but I climbed out the window. I think he heard people coming and gave up.”

Anger and relief chased each other through his heart. “Are you hurt at all?”

“No,” she said, face suddenly breaking into a glorious grin. “But he's got my footprint on his face.”

He pulled her to him in a bear hug that turned into something else when he felt the shudder of her breath on his cheek. The need to protect her seemed ridiculous when she'd just outsmarted Trevor Ancho without any help from him, yet the thought that someone might harm her made him red-hot crazy. He crushed her to his chest and rubbed his face against her hair, his lips finding their way to hers and pressing a kiss there.
No one can take you away from me.
The thought seemed to come from a place inside that had nothing to do with racing or training, a feeling born somewhere far away from ice rinks and competitions.

But he knew it was not true. She could be taken away in a heartbeat or at the end of a prolonged agony that stripped her of dignity, like Robby. Their time together could come to a halt just as quickly as it had the moment the car plowed into them on that snow-shrouded road. He would not be able to do the smallest of things to change that. The dark despair that lived inside rose up to swallow the light in his soul, and he forced himself to let go of her, lips still throbbing from the kiss.

“We've got to go to the police,” he said gravely.

“No. I'm not hurt, and I don't want to risk any more bad publicity that could affect my spot on the team. Besides, I'm sure no one will believe he locked me in the bathroom.”

“Who locked you in the bathroom?” Jackie said as she joined them.

Beth and Tanya approached from the street in time to hear Jackie's question.

Beth laughed. “Did you forget how to unlock the door?”

Laney looked at Max, and he knew she was weighing her words carefully.

“I think someone locked me in,” Laney said.

Tanya's mouth fell open. “Why would they do that?”

“I don't know. But I crawled out the window.”

Jackie was looking at her strangely. “The door opened when I came to find you.”

“I think the guy that did it unlocked it and came in.”

Jackie's eyebrows raised nearly to her hairline. “You girls wait for me in the car,” she commanded. “I'll be right there.”

Tanya and Beth exchanged a look but did as they were instructed. Jackie waited until they left. She turned serious eyes on Laney. “I'm worried about you, as a coach and a friend. I've known you for a long time, and I was pleased when you made it back from your accident to compete again.”

“But...?” Laney prompted.

“But I'm worried that the stress is getting to you.”

“Because you think I'm making up stories, imagining things.”

Jackie took a breath. “Well, if you were me, wouldn't you think the same thing? You've had nightmares since we started the season six months ago, lost track of things, accused someone of abducting you and now this.” She waved a hand toward the bathroom.

“She's telling the truth,” Max said.

“I want to believe that, Max, and I know you do, also. What proof do you have that we can use to show to the police?”