Classified Christmas Mission

THREE

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, thank you.” She took it from him. “Take your shoes and socks off, we’ll throw them in the dryer.”

While he discarded his wet boots and pulled his socks off, she opened the dryer and checked on hers. “Still a bit soggy. Might as well add yours to them.”

Lance padded over in his bare feet and handed her the wet socks and shoes. She tossed them in the dryer and got it started once again and hoped they wouldn’t have to leave the cabin in a hurry.

When she turned to face him, her nose collided with his chest and his hands came up to grip her elbows. She lifted her head, her heart thudding into overdrive. And there it was. The attraction she’d felt for him since...oh, forever. The childhood crush she’d never outgrown. She remembered the crushing despair when she’d learned that he’d married someone else. And as a result, she’d thrown herself into her job to push his memory aside. It had worked for a while. But now...now Krissy, his wife, was dead and he’d been alone for a long time. Had his heart healed from his wife’s betrayal and criminal activities? Was he ready to find someone else? And why was she even wondering?

She swallowed and tried to figure out her next move. Close in for a kiss or step back and pretend she didn’t see the spark of interest in his brown eyes?

He took the decision out of her hands. He cleared his throat. “So, do you have time to talk?”

Disappointed that the choice was suddenly gone, she tilted her head and kept her gaze on his. “Of course. Tell me what happened at the scene.”

“I answered a lot of questions and managed to keep them from finding the car. For now. If you look over the edge, you can’t see the vehicle immediately. When you hit those trees, snow fell and covered the top of it. There’s also a small overhang that sort of hides it, so...” He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not sure Gretchen was convinced everything was fine, but I did manage to buy the time you said you needed.”

“Good,” she breathed as relief filled her. “What about the tracks I left going down the side?”

“I parked my SUV over most of them to hide them.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course everyone wanted to know what happened to the person involved.”

She winced. “What did you say?”

“That the person involved walked away from the wreck and was going to be fine. Although I did kind of hint at an abusive relationship and the longer we gave the person to get away the better off she’d be. They quit asking questions after that.”

She blew out a low breath. “Well, it’s the truth. Sort of. Thanks.”

He nodded and rubbed his hands together. “It’s starting to warm up in here.”

“Finally.” She walked over, shut the oven off and closed the door.

“I can’t believe the power and water are still on.”

“And no one’s broken in,” she added.

“That’s due to the security that patrols this area. You’re going to have to keep a low profile if you want to stay here very long.”

“I don’t plan to be here too long. I’m hoping to get what I need and get moving again.”

“What you need?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, I guess that brings us full circle. Who shot at you, Amber? Who are you running from and why?”

Amber pursed her lips then motioned for him to have a seat at the kitchen table. Instead, he walked to the window and looked out. He placed his wallet and keys on the end table next to the sofa. “It’s quiet in the back.”

“Yes. For now.” She pushed aside the curtain above the sink. “The front is, too.” She scanned the area. “No headlights, no shadows. The full moon is helpful.”

“How did they find you?”

“I have my theories.”

“Such as?”

“A tracker on my vehicle. One that I didn’t find in spite of my careful search. Maybe.”

“Ah.”

Lance pulled out a chair and planted himself there. Amber turned and opened the freezer. “Oh, thank You, God,” she breathed.

“What?”

“Food.” She turned back to him with a frown. “Are you sure no one’s been living here?”

He shrugged and rubbed his head. “Now that I think about it, Mrs. Landers’s grandson may have been here sometime last month around Thanksgiving.”

“Then all the food in this freezer is probably good.”

“You’re going to eat it?”

Her frown deepened. “I’ll pay him for whatever I take, but yes, if it means the difference between going hungry and eating this food, we’ll eat.”

“Of course, I didn’t mean you should starve.”

She smiled. “I know. And I understand that I’ve just broken into someone else’s home. Then again Mrs. Landers always liked me. She taught my Sunday school class when I was in middle school and she used to have us girls over to hang out and go waterskiing in the summertime. She was always telling me to make myself at home. I think she’d be more than happy to offer her help if she could.”

He knew she was right, but still...the law was the law. Then again, someone had just tried to kill her and for now, this cabin was a safe place for her and Sam. Sam, who hadn’t budged when Lance walked in. Sam, who wanted a hamburger and fries and a chocolate shake. Lance sighed. Their talk could wait until they’d eaten. He stood. “You have any hamburger meat in there?”

“Yep.” She pulled out the patties and passed them to him.

At least the kid would have his burger. “Get me a frying pan. We’ll see if they’re still good.”

“You cook?”

“Out of survival, but yes.”

She dug in the cabinet next to the sink and came up with a frying pan. She handed it to him. “Have at it. I’m going to check on Sam then check all the windows again. I would walk outside, but don’t want to leave any more footprints than we already have.”

He frowned, but nodded. It was still hard to wrap his brain around the fact that Amber was here. She left and he turned the stove on. Within minutes Lance had the burgers cooking.

When he turned, he nearly ran Sam over. The boy stood behind him, watching him. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“You like hamburgers, I hear.”

“Hamburgers. Yes.”

“Well, they’ll be ready shortly. You know how to set the table?”

“Three plates, three forks, three glasses, three napkins.”

“That should work.”

“Three hamburgers, three pieces of cheese, three tomato slices, three squirts of ketchup, three squirts of mayonnaise, three buns.”

“I hate it, but I don’t think we have all that.” Lance turned back to the stove and pressed the spatula against the meat. The smell made his stomach rumble, so he was going to go with the conclusion that the meat was fine to eat. He opened the pantry and found a bag of chips, a half-opened pack of cookies and a bag of dried fruit. He checked the dates. All good.

Now that he had time to think about it, he remembered overhearing someone at the diner in town talking about the fact that Jason Landers was going to sell the place. He glanced at the window. New curtains. He looked at the cabinets. They’d been repainted. Yep, Jason had been here working, fixing up the place. He hoped the man didn’t show up anytime soon or they were going to have some explaining to do.

He opened the cabinet and pulled down three plates and three glasses. He handed them to Sam who put them on the table. Lance noticed the boy’s precise movements. The plates went exactly in front of the chairs, the glasses just to the right of the plates.

Lance handed him the silverware from the drawer. Again, Sam placed them perfectly. “Nice job.”

“Yes. Nice job. Hungry.”

“We’ll eat in just a couple of minutes. As soon as Amber gets back in here, all right?”

As though she’d heard him, she came from the back of the cabin and crossed the small den into the kitchen. “Wow, this looks great.”

“Just burger patties tonight, I’m afraid. No buns or salad, but we’ve got chips and dried fruit.”

She waved a hand. “Protein is good. All of that is perfect. I’ve got peanut butter and crackers if we need them.”

“French fries,” Sam said.

Amber bit her lip. “We don’t have any fries tonight, Sam, I’m sorry. Eat the chips, though, they’re made from potatoes just like French fries.” She watched him carefully and Lance wondered if she was trying to guess how the boy would react.

She let out a breath when he simply sat and stared at his plate. Lance doled out the three burgers and the rest of the food and they ate them in silence.

Sam finished his last bite. “Television, please.”

Amber looked up. “There’s one in the bedroom. Come with me and we’ll get you set up.” She shot a look back over her shoulder at Lance and he interpreted it to mean they’d talk when she had Sam distracted.

He cleaned up the kitchen, leaving it cleaner than he’d found it, then walked into the den to check the windows once again. As he stared out into the night his gut twisted. What was Amber involved in? Who was after her and Sam? And why did he have a feeling his life was going to get flipped upside down?

Amber walked back into the living area and moved from window to window, doing exactly what he’d done just moments before. “CIA?” he asked.

She turned to face him, her face blank. “What?”

“You’re with the CIA, aren’t you?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Just answer the question.”

She hesitated and he could almost see her thinking about lying. Finally, she frowned. “Yes. What gave it away?”