The Stranger (18 page)

“You wouldn’t dare,” I said. “I’ll scratch your eyes out if you come near me.”

“Follow me,” the bear insisted. “Follow me or I’ll eat your liver.”

I tried crawling, but it didn’t work very well. “I might be done.”

“No way,” the bear said, this time in Seth’s voice. “I’ve got your back. Nothing bad will happen to you under my watch. Always remember: you’re way too stubborn to let Alaska kill you.”

Seth. My mother was dead and so was my father. But Seth? He was alive.

I crawled up the trail, following the bear.

“Cold,” I grumbled. “Hate cold.”

I couldn’t figure out if I was awake or sleepwalking. It was hard to think with a frozen brain. No, I wasn’t asleep. I didn’t feel pain, cold or discomfort when I sleepwalked, whereas right now, I was feeling plenty of all of that. On the other hand, I was following a bear. A bear, for God’s sake! Give me a break. I might not be sleepwalking, but I was definitively hallucinating.

“Come on,” the bear said. “Chase your dreams. Chase me.”

I dragged myself up the path by the force of my elbows. I sank one elbow on the ground and then the other. I lost all sensation in my hands and feet. I had no concept of time. It seemed that I’d been dragging myself for days when my head hit on wood. I looked up. The bear sat at the top of the stairs. The deck. The cabin’s deck.

I crawled up the steps. The door couldn’t be too far away, but I ran out of steam. I was so cold I couldn’t move anymore.

“Keep moving,” the bear said in my mother’s voice.

My body refused. I sprawled on the deck, watching the pile of snow growing next to me, snowflakes landing like butterflies without a sound. Pretty. The door. Where was it? Fire. I really wanted a hot fire. A roar. The deafening sound interrupted the silence and shook the cabin and the deck. It wasn’t coming from the bear. It came from the sky instead.

“Almost there,” the bear said.

“Good night, bear,” I mumbled.

“Night, beautiful.” An image of an eagle flashed in my mind. “Go chase your dreams.”

Chapter Fourteen

How the hell had I managed to walk straight into Alex’s trap? How was I supposed to protect those I cared for if nobody followed my instructions and everybody did whatever the hell they wanted?

The helicopter bucked in the air. I fought another wind gust, determined to get to my destination despite the weather. The forecast wasn’t exactly conducive for flying and the ride quality was crap. Visibility was zero, surface winds exceeded forty-five knots, and the wind shear was giving the helicopter hell. My brain rattled in my skull like a marble in a can. I kept my eyes on the main rotor indicators. Severe turbulence led to rotor flapping which in turn led to blade stall, altitude deviation, and mast bumping. I didn’t have time to deal with any of that tonight.

The helicopter’s searchlights broke through a patch of heavy snow to illuminate the icy waters of Star Lake. At least I was close. I followed along the north shore of the lake’s short finger on the GPS. A memory of today’s debacles had me reeling. After twenty-four hours with my ass parked in a goddamn interrogation room, the hearing had been surprising enough.

There was the press, of course, always making a clusterfuck of things, but also Grandma, marching in with the governor, a senator, several members of the legislature and the tribal governments, and even a state supreme court judge. Anya and Ally showed up near the end.

Once Anya presented her evidence, the judge, who was already raving mad, threw a fit. He ranted against federal abuses in Alaska and ended the hearing on the spot. Alex hadn’t succeeded at buying this judge. The Feds left the courtroom with their tails between their legs. The charges against me were dropped. Alex, who made an appearance in the courtroom, swore to Grandma that he had nothing to do with whole thing.

The hell with Alex. I gritted my teeth. Wait until I was done with this one.

I fought through a particularly violent bout of turbulence. The helicopter pitched and rolled. It plummeted a good thirty feet and so did my stomach. Good thing I had no civilian cargo. Otherwise, I’d need a barf cleanup crew, which I almost needed myself earlier today, when I found out what Summer had done.

I’d walked out of the courthouse a free man, only to have to deal with the public relations fallout, the storm that had grounded most flights, and Spider’s news. He’d called me on my cell while I was on the way to the helipad. Dammit. I hadn’t liked any of what he had to say.

“Found your guy, Sergio De Havilland,” he’d announced without preamble. “He’s having a good time in Rio.”

“And?”

“He’s in the import export business,” Spider said. “Some sort of scheme peddling luxury cars to the rich and famous. The odometers are reset along the way.”

Confirmation that the guy was indeed a bag of shit. “Did you get close like I asked?”

“Of course.” Spider’s voice sharpened with a mix of affront and amusement. “Our guys on the ground bought him a few drinks.”

“And asked him some good questions I hope?”

“It took some doing, but they got him talking about his ex.”

“Go.”

“According to De Havilland, Summer was a saint, the best woman ever.”

“And the reason for the divorce?”

“He was young and foolish, she was the one who got away, yadda, yadda, yadda.”

Interesting. Summer didn’t want his name mentioned in her presence and yet he was all nice and lovey-dovey.

“Anything else?”

“Drugs,” Spider said. “He keeps it really hush-hush, especially from his father, but the little shithead hits cocaine like a snorting machine.”

Now we were getting somewhere. Summer wasn’t likely to put up with that.

“Our guys put him to bed and checked out the rest,” Spider said. “His accounts are maxed out and most of his efforts are centered on raising capital for his little adventure. Problem is, his mobster partners are likely to come after him if he doesn’t pay for the merchandise. He’s got a friend with international banking connections trying to throw him a lifeline. I’m no bean counter, but for what I saw, his business sense? Zero. Long story short, he needs money. He’s going down fast.”

Red flags snapping everywhere. “Does he have any insurance out on Summer?”

“None that we’ve found so far. I know what you’re gonna say, you want us to look some more.”

“Right on.”

“Hacking insurance companies all over the wide world takes time.”

“It’s a thankless task, I know, but it’s got to be done,” I said. “While you’re at it, check for policies where the beneficiary is the stepmother. What’s the status on her?”

“Nothing new,” Spider said. “Yes, she’s up to her eyeballs in credit card debt, but her liabilities aren’t out of whack with the average American. Everybody who we’d talked to in Miami said she was loud and shrewd, but not criminal in nature. We also canvassed work associates at Summer’s office.”

“And?”

“They fucking love her at Carrera and Associates. The people who work there think she’s awesome, the glue that keeps the place together. Carrera relies on her for everything and everybody we talked to had nothing but praise for the woman.”

Why wasn’t I surprised?

“And the sister?”

“I have some interesting news about her.” Spider launched into the specifics.

I’d listened carefully. The information he shared and subsequent communications put me in a precarious position. Even now, I hadn’t decided what to do about it. And then there was Ally’s astonishing story of what had gone down at Anya’s.

Yes, I’d thought about Anya at the lake while I was “visiting” with the Feds, but I’d had no way to convey my thoughts to anyone useful. And even though I was grateful to Summer for her help, I would’ve much preferred to know she was safe under Robert’s supervision and not alone in the middle of the damn Alaskan wilderness.

Jer and Ally had wanted me to wait until the morning to fetch Summer, but they didn’t know her like I did. She was trouble in the flesh and prone to disaster. Grandma actually forbade me to fly and the storm almost grounded me for good. The only reason I was able to take to the air is because my Firehawk was equipped with a state-of-the-art ice protection system that used automatic electrothermal heating to prevent ice from forming on the main and tail rotor blades. The hell with the storm. I needed to get to Summer.

At last, the searchlights brushed against the outline of Anya’s cabin. I spotted no lights inside and no smoke coming out of the chimney. Why hadn’t Summer built a fire?

I attempted a landing, but the wind pummeled me again. Scrap that. I was testing the Firehawk tonight. The wind blew fiercely, the snow came straight at me, and I couldn’t see squat. I had to get this bird on the ground, before the wind did it for me. I hated to leave the helicopter out in the elements, but what choice did I have?

I made another low pass over the cabin, watching the wind indicators, looking for an opportunity to land. I caught a break in the snow. The searchlights reflected a flash of snow-speckled hot pink. I did a double take. Jesus fucking Christ. I knew that jacket!

My heart shot to my throat. My pulse pounded in my ears. Was Summer lying on the deck, exposed to the elements? I forced the helicopter down and hover-taxied into position. A stiff crosswind buffeted the bird like a giant fist. The LTE alarms went off. The helicopter lost tail rotor effectiveness.

Oh, shit.

The Firehawk rotated to the right. I added left pedal, but got zero response. I clipped one of Anya’s rust piles with the tail. I drifted fast into the house. Fuck. I smashed the pedal to the floor, spun the nose around, and slammed down the collective. The helicopter hit the ground with a bang. I was less than seven feet away from the cabin, but at least I was down.

Go
,
go
,
go
.

I powered down, tucked my gun into the back of my pants, grabbed the emergency kit, and bolted to the back deck. My boots crunched on the snow. My breath came in visible puffs. I sprinted around the corner so fast I almost ran into the bear. I skidded to a stop not five feet from the stairs, where the old bear sat wearing a little pile of snow on its head like a crown.

I reached for my gun. My stomach pitched. Had Summer walked out into the open while asleep? Had the bear attacked her? Was it about to attack me?

With a muted groan, the bear padded down the stairs. I clambered up to the deck and vaulted over the railings, keeping my eyes on the beast. The bear paid me no heed. It ambled toward the trail and got lost in the woods.

I tucked my gun away and landed on my knees next to Summer. Panic slammed into me. She shivered, pale as the snow and icy to my touch. Her pulse was faint. The ends of her hair had frozen and shallow puddles of snow gathered in the folds of her clothes. In her hand, she gripped a gun.

A
gun?

I pried the gun from her blue-tipped fingers, opened the cabin door, and dragged her inside. I shut the door. For a moment, I didn’t know what to do. In all my years flying search and rescue, insertions and extractions, I’d never ever lost it like this. It was as if my mind had called it quits and my heart weighed a ton in my chest. Then my training kicked in.

For the second time in my life, I found myself taking off her clothes, boots, socks, pants. This time around, it was a lot worse. Would I find her dead the next time? What if she died on me?

I couldn’t let that happen. No fucking way. It wasn’t going to happen. I gritted my teeth and forced my shaking hands to work. The wet layers came off one after the other, until I’d taken everything off. I dried Summer off then wrapped her in a thick bundle of blankets I lifted from Anya’s couches. Her teeth chattered. Her lips, ears, fingers, and toes were blue.

But shivering was good. People who succumbed to hypothermia stopped shivering before they died. If Summer was suffering from an extreme case of hypothermia, if her temperature had dropped beneath a certain level and her organs had shut down, she may not survive.

“You better not die on me.” I had no idea how long she’d been wet and exposed. I hoped it hadn’t been too long.

Her blue-tinted eyelids opened. Her sparkling green eyes fixed on my face. Her lips pursed but her mouth couldn’t make out words. She pawed at my hand, but she couldn’t grab it. I rubbed her fingers between my palms.

“I’ll get you warm,” I said. “I’m going to build you a fire.”

In record time, I had a roaring fire going in Anya’s hearth. I also lit the old stove. I laid Summer on the couch and pushed it closer to the fireplace. I was very careful not to jar her. Sudden movements could trigger irregular heartbeats in hypothermic patients. I placed a cushion beneath her head. She curled up with her knees against her chest and tried to speak again, but I couldn’t make out what she was saying.

“Hush, baby.” I stroked her face. “You’re going to be fine.”

I started several pots with water at the same time. I rummaged through my emergency kit, pulled out a bag of saline, and dropped it in the water as well. I tore the place apart until I found a collection of old rubber water bottles beneath the sink. I filled up the bottles with hot water and tucked them against Summer’s chest and belly, under her arms and against her groin, trying to warm her internal organs. This time, when she tried to speak, I recognized my name on her lips.

“S-Seth?”

“It’s all right,” I said. “This too shall pass. I’m going to hook you up with some warm saline. It should help restore your body’s temperature faster. Okay?”

I tested the saline solution. I needed it to be about a hundred and nine degrees, but I didn’t have a thermometer, so I winged it. I had trouble finding a vein on Summer’s arm. My hands were shaking and her veins seemed to have disappeared from her body. I took a deep breath and kept trying.
Dammit
,
Erickson
,
just find the fucking vein
.

After a few minutes, I located a vein in the crook of her arm and, stilling my trembling hands, inserted the needle. Okay, we were in business now. I hung the IV from the couch and rushed to brew a pot of hot tea. I managed to feed her a few sips.

“C-careful,” she rasped. “H-he came.”

“Who came?” I said, feeding her more tea.

“K-killer.”

“Killer?”

“Brakes,” she mumbled. “Car.”

It hit me like a ton of bricks. “You mean the man who tampered with your brakes? He was here?”

“L-lake.”

“Lake?” I stared at her, stunned. My mind raced, working out the different scenarios. “He tried to drown you? Is that why you were soaking wet? Is that why you had a gun in your hand?”

“S-shot him.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

“Are you telling me that the son of a bitch showed up here, marched you down to the lake, and tried to drown you?” I was going to kill the bastard. “Are you telling me you fought him off and then, wet and freezing, made your way back here?”

“F-follow the bear,” she said.

“The bear?”

She nodded, something that required body coordination, a sign that her temperature was rising.

“The bear,” she said. “It spoke. My mother came.”

“Okay, sure.” She was probably hallucinating from the cold.

“She comes,” she insisted. “In my dreams. All the time.”

I couldn’t ignore the certainty in her eyes. “She does?”

“She told me,” she said. “About you. That first night? She said. Trust you.”

“Is that why you believed me?” I grappled with the odd notion. “Is that why you were so sure I was telling you the truth?”

“Only comes...when I need her.” She shuddered. “Always tells...the truth.”

It was a tough act to swallow for a skeptic like me, but I hadn’t believed Summer when she first told me about sleepwalking and yet it was true. I examined the facts. Summer wasn’t crazy. On the contrary, she was one of the strongest, sanest people I knew. Whether her mother really came to her or Summer’s intuition did all the work in her dreams, it didn’t matter to me. Summer believed it. Besides, I liked that I’d earned her mom’s seal of approval, even if she wasn’t around anymore.

“No accident,” Summer muttered.