Holiday Defenders: Mission: Christmas Rescue / Special Ops Christmas / Homefront Holiday Hero

THREE

Liz’s eyes flew open when the car braked to a stop. She glanced first at Nick and then at the expansive A-frame rising up at the end of the driveway. How long had she been asleep?

Nick stepped from the car, opened the back door and leaned over Mary Grace, which put him much too close. Liz unbuckled her seat belt, needing to distance herself from the man who made her equilibrium falter.

Inwardly she chastised herself, ashamed at her own inability to stay awake earlier. Violent men were after them, yet she’d closed her eyes and drifted to sleep. What if Nick hadn’t been a trusted friend of Zack’s and someone suspect instead. Would she have dropped her guard then?

Nick unclasped the harness buckle on Mary Grace’s car seat and, with strong, powerful arms, lifted the sleeping child into his embrace. For half a second, Liz remembered after prom when they had stood on her front porch, saying good-night, wrapped in each other’s arms.

Enough nonsense. She hurriedly unlatched Joey’s harness and carried the child out the door Nick held open.

“Where are we?” she asked, breathing in the cold mountain air.

Her gaze fell again over the wooden A-frame with its expansive windows and welcoming front porch. The majestic valley spanned out below them, wrapped in snow that reflected the light of the moon.

Everything was clearly visible at this elevation—the constellations, the North Star and the moon shining down like a giant lamp in the night sky.

She turned back to Nick. “Is this where you grew up?”

He nodded. “My dad’s cabin.”

“But—” She glanced again at the sturdy structure, so pleasing to the eye and in perfect balance with the natural setting. Years earlier, she had visited Nick’s childhood home with Zack. In her mind, it would always remain a dilapidated shack, surrounded by clutter and as tired and listless as Nick’s father had been.

“You must have hired a builder.”

“I did the work myself, piecemeal, over the years, when I was home on leave.”

“Where did you get the building supplies?” It couldn’t have been in Lassiter. In all that time, she had never seen him, or even heard word of him coming to town.

“I found what I needed in Cambridge, on the other side of the mountain.”

She glanced again at the fine craftsmanship of the structure, marveling at Nick’s ability. “I...I didn’t know you were a builder.”

He laughed, the sound filling the night. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Lizzie.”

It’s Elizabeth now, she thought, but she failed to correct him. For some reason, Lizzie sounded right coming from Nick.

A cold wind blew, and she cuddled Joey closer. “We need to get the children inside.”

Nick reached for the totes and laptop before heading toward the house. After climbing the stairs, he stamped his feet and keyed open the door.

“Watch your step.” He took her elbow and helped her up the slippery stairs.

“Will they follow us here?”

“I hope not, but we still need to be cautious. Let’s get the children settled and then try to uncover who your brother was meeting. That might help us determine who’s after us and why. Once we get information, we can contact the authorities outside the local area. Zack told me not to trust the Lassiter police. If there are dirty cops, there’s no telling how they’ll manipulate our story to make it fit their own needs.”

“Zack called the guy a whistleblower.”

“Good to know. Our job is to find out what secrets he planned to share that got him killed.”

Nick held open the door. She slipped inside, noting the massive stone fireplace on the far side of the room. The faint scent of tomatoes and green peppers hung in the air as if he’d cooked Italian hours earlier.

She glanced down at her watch. Quarter past midnight.

Nick must have driven around on back roads for some time, trying to elude the killers. He had remained vigilant while she snoozed.

Shame on her for not staying alert to protect the children, yet nothing gave her pause to worry about her own safety where Nick was concerned. Quite the opposite; she’d felt an immediate sense of relief when he’d touched her arm and guided her away from the window after they’d spotted the van parked in front of Zack’s house.

She shivered inadvertently, thinking of what could have happened if Nick hadn’t arrived in time. He’d left her hanging in the past, but he’d come back at the perfect moment.

To protect Zack’s kids. No reason to think it had anything to do with her. And even if it did, she’d never be foolish enough to trust him with her heart again. He would keep them safe, and that was all.

“Cold?” he asked. Concern filled his gaze. “I’ll turn up the heat.” After adjusting the thermostat, he pointed to the overhead loft. “My bedroom’s upstairs. The kids can sleep there.”

She followed him along the circular stairway, marveling at the breathtaking view out the floor-to-ceiling windows. The cabin contained a mix of sleek modern furnishings interspersed with a few antiques. All quality pieces and so unlike anything she thought the former Nick would have purchased. Tonight, she saw Nick in a new light and realized she didn’t know anything about the man he had become.

The only thing she didn’t see, which gave her pause, was a Christmas tree or any other holiday decorations.

Upon entering his bedroom, Nick laid Mary Grace on his king-size bed and, without prompting, slipped off her coat. The child snuggled under the thick comforter and crisp sheets.

Liz settled Joey on the opposite side of the bed. Just as Nick had done, she removed the little one’s jacket and pulled the covers over his shoulders, grateful both children were in their pajamas. Hopefully, they would sleep until morning.

Or until something—or someone—disrupted their slumber.

“Please, Lord, keep them safe.” She pressed a kiss on first Joey’s and then Mary Grace’s forehead.

Nick stood at the foot of the bed. “They’ll be okay for the night,” he assured her.

She nodded, not wanting to give voice to her own concerns. Everything had happened too quickly. Not that many hours ago, the children had been in their own beds dreaming of Christmas.

Then Zack had called, and their peace and security had vanished like the wind that was starting to gain strength outside.

“Let’s go downstairs,” Nick suggested. “I’ll fix coffee. Are you hungry?”

“No, but coffee sounds good.” She followed him to the first floor and watched as he filled the water reservoir and basket. The rich scent of the ground beans filled the kitchen area.

While the coffee brewed, he used a remote control to lower the blinds that covered the huge windows. “They’ll block out the indoor light so no one suspects we’re here. Zack and I were inseparable in high school. Memories linger in small towns. Someone might make the connection.”

The tightness in his voice made a chill scurry along her spine.

“I’d build a fire except smoke coming out the chimney would signal that the house is occupied.”

He wasn’t taking chances. The cabin was isolated, tucked high on the mountain. They were well hidden, unless someone knew where to look.

“I suggest we both take the batteries out of our cell phones.”

Elizabeth bristled at the suggestion. “But what if Zack tries to call me?”

“We can activate your cell every few hours and check for incoming calls.”

She glanced down at her BlackBerry. “You think someone will trace us through our phones?”

Nick nodded. “It’s possible. I’ve got a burner phone that can’t be traced. We’ll use that if we need to make any calls.”

“Let me try to contact Zack first.” Elizabeth punched his number on speed dial.

“Don’t worry,” she said when the call went to voice mail. “The children and I are being well protected.” Hopefully he’d know that Nick was keeping them safe.

After disconnecting, she turned off the device and removed the battery. Nick did the same to his cell and tucked his smartphone and the throwaway model in his pocket.

Grabbing binoculars off a nearby shelf, he peered through a small side window. “I can see almost the entire stretch of access road. The snow’s already covered our tire tracks, which helps. Hopefully we’ll spot any unwelcome visitors in time to react.”

“Which means we’re safe.”

He nodded. “At least for now.”

She stepped closer and glanced out the same window. Once again, the view of the snow-covered terrain bathed in the iridescent glow of the moon’s reflection took her breath away.

“Everything looks so peaceful.”

He nodded. “That’s what I like about the mountain. I relax completely when I’m here.”

“Are you stationed close by?”

“At Fort Rickman. A couple hours south of Atlanta.”

“It’s nice you could come home for Christmas.”

“Actually, I’m on convalescent leave.”

“What!” She startled, unable to sort through the concern tugging at her heart. “You were injured?”

“Nothing serious, but the docs thought I needed to recuperate for a month or so.”

“I...I didn’t know. Zack never mentioned—”

“No need,” he quickly added.

“He could have at least—”

Nick touched her hand. “High school was a long time ago, Liz. I understand.”

“Understand?” What was he talking about?

She was the one who didn’t understand why he’d betrayed her trust.

FOUR

Nick was grateful for the buzzer that rang when the coffee was ready. Seeing the surprise written on Lizzie’s face when he’d mentioned convalescent leave had him hoping she might still have feelings for him. Then he realized his mistake. The past was long gone.

He pointed her toward the kitchen. “I’ve got milk in the fridge, and the sugar bowl is on the counter.” He pulled two mugs from the cabinet and filled them.

“Black works for me,” she said, accepting the cup he offered.

He took a sip. Hopefully, the hearty brew would clear his mind. He was way too aware of Lizzie—Elizabeth. He needed to stay focused and on task. The mission came first. He understood that in combat. He needed to remember that now. He couldn’t let Lizzie’s nearness veer him off course.

“Let’s take a look at Zack’s computer.” Nick ushered her toward the table in the great room.

Her eyes widened as she ran her hand over the smooth surface. “The wood’s beautiful.”

“Thanks. As they say, one man’s junk is another man’s treasure.”

He smiled at her raised brow and went on to explain, “I found the table in a flea market north of here, near the Kentucky state line. Solid oak and built in the mid-1800s, but covered with layers of chipped paint. Bringing the wood back to its original beauty was a work of love.”

“And the chairs?” She pointed to the set of Windsors with spindle backs sturdy enough to support even someone his size.

“Another find that required hours of labor but was worth the effort.”

She scooted into one of the chairs while he opened Zack’s laptop. Sitting next to her, he pushed the power button and waited for the password request.

“Annabelle’s birthday.” Elizabeth provided the date.

After he punched in the digits, the screen saver came into view, showing Zack’s wife, cradling an infant in her arms, no doubt Joey. Their toddler daughter stood cuddled at her side.

The depth of the family’s loss tugged at Nick’s heart. “Mary Grace looks just like her mother.”

Elizabeth nodded. “And Joey takes after Zack.”

Nick smiled. “A future investigative reporter, perhaps?”

“I hope not.” The seriousness in her tone reminded Nick—as if he needed a reminder—that Zack’s search for the truth had placed his life in danger.

“I’ll pull up his documents.”

Working quickly, Nick looked for anything that might shed light on the identity of the murdered informant or Zack’s current investigation. He read through a series of files with information Zack had probably used in past blog posts. Some of them focused on the Lassiter police department and possible corruption, which wouldn’t put Zack in good stead with the local authorities. Whether that played into what had happened tonight, Nick wasn’t sure.

He double-clicked on a file Zack had opened yesterday. A list of names unfolded across the screen. “Recognize anyone?”

Liz leaned closer and pointed out two names. “These guys were a couple years behind me in high school. I see them around town occasionally, but I don’t know them personally.”

“Can you think of anything they share in common other than attending the same high school?”

She shook her head. “Unfortunately, no.”

After working through the majority of the files without success, Nick stretched back in his chair and rubbed his neck. “Zack isn’t making this easy.”

Liz scooted away from the table and stood. “You keep searching. I’ll check on the children.”

Nick was relieved to have some breathing room. Being close to Lizzie required self-control. He wanted to touch her hand and feel the softness of her skin.

He chuckled inwardly. Silly for him to think she’d feel the same attraction, almost a magnetic force that was stronger than he could handle at the moment.

Everything about Lizzie was a distraction and seeing her concern for the children was even more so. She’d make a great mom and should have a houseful of kids of her own. Instead, she taught a classroom of other people’s children. No doubt, she was a terrific teacher, but she needed a family, as well.

Maybe caffeine would help clear his head.

“Want some more coffee?” he called up to her as she climbed the stairs to his bedroom.

“A glass of water would be good.” He heard the smile in her voice and his chest tightened, wanting to do anything to make her happy.

Her face had been washed with worry since he’d arrived at Zack’s house. No wonder. Hard to look beyond the danger they were in. If they could elude the killers until Zack could hand his information over to the proper authorities, then this mission would end on a good note.

It had to end well.

Shaking off the ominous feelings that came with his thoughts, Nick dropped his cup into the sink and poured water into two glasses. He gulped half a glass and refilled it before carrying both to the table.

The local all-night television channel aired news on the hour. He hit the remote and lowered the volume. A commercial played across the screen.

Hearing Lizzie’s footfalls coming down the stairs, he turned. She smiled at him, and he felt buoyed by her gaze.

“Both children are sound asleep,” she said.

“They’re great kids.”

“The best.” She glanced at the table. “Thanks for the water.”

He handed her the glass. Stepping closer to take it, she glanced up. The look on her face was telling. Lizzie had stepped too close.

His heart pounded in his chest. The thump, thump, thump was so strong, she’d surely think a snare drum was coming from the TV.

She didn’t mention his heartbeat. Instead, she focused on his lips, her eyes scorching him with their gaze.

The world faded away, and all he saw was Lizzie, even more beautiful than he remembered. More than anything, he wanted to reach for her and pull her close. Everything inside him yearned for her kiss.

She leaned in closer, almost as if she wanted the kiss as badly as he did. But then she glanced at the television, the spell of the moment broken.

Her face darkened. She gasped. Nick followed her gaze to the photograph plastered on the plasma screen.

A photo of Zack.

The newscaster’s voice, although faint, could be heard in the stillness.

“Zack Tate, noted investigative reporter and author of the controversial blog “Z” Notes, is wanted in connection with a man found murdered in the roadside park off Phillips Road.”

“No,” Lizzie moaned as she walked closer to the television. Nick picked up the remote and increased the volume.

“The unidentified man was shot to death and found in the rear of the park rest stop a short time ago. A police spokesperson said evidence found at the site of the murder makes Zack Tate a person of interest. He’s considered armed and dangerous, and the public is asked to use caution and call the authorities if they spot Tate.”

Nick put his hand on her shoulder, offering support.

The newscast continued. “Most people know Tate from his blog. Over the years, many of the stories he’s featured have been highly inflammatory toward local authorities. The police have long said Tate paints law enforcement in a less than favorable light, which has hindered their effectiveness within the community.”

“No wonder the cops are upset,” Nick said. “Zack exposed their duplicity.”

Lizzie shuddered when Annabelle’s name was mentioned.

“Tate’s wife died thirteen months ago, and an unnamed source questions whether foul play could have been involved. His two young children, age six and four, are missing along with his sister, Elizabeth Tate, a teacher at Lassiter Elementary. She’s also wanted for questioning.”

Nick didn’t like hearing Lizzie’s name mentioned in connection with the murder. If law enforcement wanted to question her, she would be in added danger if the police turned a blind eye to the law.

When the newscast went to a commercial break, Nick lowered the volume and threw the remote on the couch. “Zack was right. Everyone’s on the take. He’s being set up to take the fall for the informant’s death. They want so badly to smear his name that they’re even creating suspicions about his wife’s death.”

“At least the police haven’t apprehended him yet.”

The police wouldn’t find Zack if the four thugs had already grabbed him. Not that Nick would share that thought with Lizzie.

“His past blogs hit too close to home,” he said. “Someone must have decided he needed to be silenced. Maybe the meeting with the whistleblower was a setup to lure Zack in. Dirty cops can’t be trusted, especially if someone threatens to expose their underhanded dealings.”

She rubbed her arms. “What’s our plan if the killers come looking for us?”

“We’ll grab the kids and then head out the back door off the kitchen. I’ll park your SUV on a small path that leads higher up the side of the mountain. With the long access road, we should have time to spot an approaching vehicle and get away.”

“But they’ll keep following us.”

“The access road dead ends here at the cabin. If they don’t know about the mountain path, they’ll think we left before they arrived.”

“At least that’s what you’re hoping.”

She had given voice to his own concerns. Nick glanced at his watch. They had a few hours before dawn. Hopefully they’d be secure here, at least for now.

They still needed to uncover information that could lead them to Zack, or give them leverage against the men trying to kill him. Knowledge was power, and they had to uncover the corruption that had placed him in danger and led to the taking of another man’s life.

Just so the violence ended there. Nick wouldn’t let anything happen to Lizzie and the children. He’d protect them with his last breath, if need be. If only they could be safe.

FIVE

Lizzie’s head was still reeling from seeing Zack’s picture on the news. Hoping to calm her racing pulse, she pulled back the blind and watched Nick maneuver the SUV out of the driveway and onto a path that rounded the cabin.

The night was pristine and still and devoid of anything that seemed threatening. Feeling a need to breathe in the freshness of the outdoors, she opened the front door and stepped onto the porch.

Her gaze took in the expansive mountain landscape dotted with evergreens, heavy with snow. Moonlight wove through the bare branches of the hardwoods and bathed the snow-covered walkway in light.

Something on the side of the path caught her eye. Relief swept over her, seeing the camel from Mary Grace’s Nativity set. The child doted on the various figures and had played with them constantly during the holiday season as if to draw closer to the mother she missed.

Lizzie hurried down the steps and ran to where the object lay. The plump camel must have fallen to the snow when Nick carried the sleeping child inside. Bending, she picked up the stuffed animal and clutched it to her heart, finding comfort in the tiny toy. Turning back to the house, she stared for a long moment at the A-frame, once again appreciating the simple lines of the mountain lodging and Nick’s expert craftsmanship.

A sharp wind cut through her clothing. Shivering in the night air, she hurried toward the porch.

A twig snapped behind her.

She stopped short and listened. All she heard was the rumble of the car engine on the far side of the house.

Snow crunched, signaling a footfall.

Run!

Liz stumbled forward, needing to get inside and lock the door. She had to protect the children.

Her heart pounded, and she gasped for air, hearing another footfall.

Cold winter air took her breath and clamped down on her lungs. Fear clogged her throat.