They’re tracking a kidnapper

But will they be the next targets?

After an ambush during a mountain hike, Zoe Pratt ends up shoved off the mountain and her friend kidnapped. Enigmatic search and rescue volunteer Jack Monroe tracks Zoe with the help of his K-9 partner, Romeo, but as the only witness to the attack, she’s far from safe. With Jack’s help, can she find her friend and take down her would-be killer?

K-9 Mountain Guardians

An eternal optimist, HOPE WHITE was born and raised in the Midwest. She and her college sweetheart have been married for thirty years and are blessed with two wonderful sons, two feisty cats and a bossy border collie. When not dreaming up inspirational tales, Hope enjoys hiking, sipping tea with friends and going to the movies. She loves to hear from readers, who can contact her at hopewhiteauthor@gmail.com.

Also By Hope White

Hidden in Shadows

Witness on the Run

Christmas Haven

Small Town Protector

Safe Harbor

Baby on the Run

Nanny Witness

Mountain Hostage

Echo Mountain

Mountain Rescue

Covert Christmas

Payback

Christmas Undercover

Witness Pursuit

Mountain Ambush

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Mountain Hostage

Hope White

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-0-008-90642-9

MOUNTAIN HOSTAGE

© 2020 Pat White

Published in Great Britain 2020

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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“I’m going down,” Jack said.

He had done it before, although not with favorable results.

Pulling rope off his pack, he anchored it to a nearby tree root jutting out from the mountain. Romeo shot him a look, like, Don’t go without me.

“Stay,” Jack said in case the dog got any crazy ideas and shouldered his pack, which had supplies.

Gripping the rope with gloved hands, he let himself drift so he’d land gently on the plateau, about a hundred feet down.

He wouldn’t be too late this time, wouldn’t let any harm come to the woman in the blue ski jacket.

A few moments later he landed on the small ledge.

Her back was to him and she acted as if she hadn’t heard his landing. “Miss?”

Startled, she turned suddenly, her eyes wide with fear. “Don’t hurt me!” She stepped back, precariously close to the edge.

He instinctively reached out to grab her arm.

“No, don’t!”

She stumbled backward over the edge of the cliff.

Dear Reader,

Sometimes it’s a struggle to find hope when confronted with stressful situations. Yet hope and faith are so important to help us stay on the path of grace.

Zoe Pratt clings to hope that her friend is both safe and that she hasn’t gotten mired in criminal activity. Through faith and prayer, Zoe remains strong and realizes that even if her friend has made poor choices, Zoe will forgive her because she—and God—love her unconditionally.

Hope is a mystery to Jack Monroe since his own hope was extinguished as a child, and again as a young man. Yet by watching Zoe’s dedication to hope, something is rekindled in his heart. Jack admires her devotion and realizes it might be worth opening his heart to God, friendship and something more.

Jack and Zoe learn from each other by appreciating their differences and accepting each other for who they are, their flaws as well as their strengths. By the end of this story, they find that unconditional love opens the door to remarkable things, including love and grace.

Peace,

Hope White

Now the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, that ye may abound in hope, through the power of the Holy Ghost.

—Romans 15:13

To the volunteers of King County Search Dogs, State of Washington, for their commitment to saving lives.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Introduction

Dear Reader

Bible Verse

Dedication

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

Extract

About the Publisher

ONE

Zoe Pratt lost her footing on the icy trail and gasped. Stabbing her hiking stick into the snow for balance, she peered over the steep drop below into the vast, white blur of nothingness. A shudder ran down her spine.

Maybe a winter hike hadn’t been the best idea.

“Shannon, slow down!” Zoe called, recentering herself to keep up with her friend.

“I can’t,” Shannon said. “Wait till you see the view from Prairie’s Peak!”

“Do we have to risk our lives getting there?”

“You know I’d never let anything happen to you.”

Zoe adjusted her red scarf to cover her mouth and nose. It was cold in the Cascade Mountains, and Zoe wasn’t an experienced hiker. She’d come to the charming town of Mt. Stevens, Washington, to hang out with Shannon, her childhood best friend. Zoe thought they’d spend time relaxing, catching up on their lives, maybe even laughing a little. She eyed the steep drop to her right. Nothing to laugh about there. One wrong step and—

“Pick it up, pokey!” Shannon teased.

Zoe glanced at the gray sky. Light snow began to fall. “You sure it’s safe out here?”

“What, you’re not afraid of a grizzly, are ya?”

“A grizzly as in a bear?”

“They’re probably more afraid of you than you are of them.” Shannon continued her enthusiastic pace and Zoe struggled to keep up.

Shannon had always been the one to challenge Zoe out of her funk when things seemed desperate. Well, things weren’t exactly desperate, but Zoe did need a break, both from her challenging job as a social worker for adolescents and teens, and from her dismal personal life. She still couldn’t believe how badly she’d misjudged things with her ex-boyfriend, Tim.

Shove it aside, Zoe. This was supposed to be a rejuvenating getaway, not a depressing one.

Zoe inhaled the fresh mountain air and let it clear her lungs, her thoughts. She felt grounded and at peace in the mountains. She could see why Shannon loved it so much and why she thought it the perfect place to bring Zoe.

She caught up to her friend, who hesitated at a small outlook, gazing out across the Cascade mountain range.

Shannon eyed Zoe’s jacket. “You warm enough?”

“Sure, I’m okay.”

“Yeah, you should’ve worn my spare, matching jacket.”

“And look like a pumpkin?” Zoe eyed Shannon up and down.

Shannon smiled, then redirected her attention to the horizon.

Zoe noticed a tower in the distance. “What’s that?”

“Portage Fire Lookout. It’s ridiculously easy to get to from the Frontage trailhead. You can really see the vastness of God’s beauty from that spot.” She glanced at Zoe. “It helps to get perspective on things.”

Zoe smiled. “This is exactly what I needed to get my mind off my love life.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.”

“Are you having problems with Randy?”

“Who knows.”

Zoe had noticed a photo of Randy and Shannon tucked in a kitchen drawer as if it had been recently put away, out of sight. The couple looked happy, both with wide grins, although Randy’s was partially hidden by a full beard.

“Shannon?” Zoe prompted.

“He’s been acting weird lately and I haven’t heard from him since he left a few days ago to visit family in Denver.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No.” She touched Zoe’s shoulder. “We’re not going to let guy trouble spoil our fun. Come on.”

“How much farther?” Zoe asked.

“Depends how slow you hike.” Shannon winked. “Race ya?”

“Ah, come on, Shan. What are you trying to do, prove how out of shape I am?”

“You’ll thank me later when you sleep like a baby.” Shannon picked up her pace. “I packed snickerdoodles for our snack. That should motivate you.”

“With red and green sprinkles?”

“Of course!”

Before Zoe could open her mouth to demand a snickerdoodle for sustenance, Shan had reached a sharp turn up ahead and was out of sight.

It made sense that Shan could outhike Zoe, considering Shan’s job at the Mt. Stevens Resort was mostly physical, whereas Zoe’s job required hours of sitting and listening.

A woman’s scream echoed across the mountain.

“Shannon!” Zoe called.

Adrenaline coursing through her body, she rushed to get to her friend. She must have twisted an ankle or injured herself somehow. “Shannon, answer me!”

Nearly losing her footing, she took a deep breath. Slow me down, Lord. Keep me safe. If Zoe injured herself as well, she’d be no help to Shannon.

As Zoe reached the turn, Shannon darted around the corner and slammed into her. “Run, Zoe, run!” She pushed her for encouragement.

A bear, it had to be a bear, right? There was no way they could outrun a bear. Zoe had seen her share of National Geographic specials on wildlife. Would he try to eat them or—

“Stop!” a male voice said.

That didn’t sound a like a bear.

“Don’t stop, Zoe!” Shannon said.

Zoe focused on bending her knees to give her balance as she scrambled down the trail. Her pepper spray, why had she left it back at the house? Because you didn’t expect to need it out here, she told herself. She thought hikers were nice sorts of people, nature lovers, tree huggers and—Shannon slammed into Zoe from behind. Zoe slid and prayed. Please, Lord, not now, I’m not ready to end my work on earth!

With a thunk, she hit a boulder meant to guard hikers at the outlook from the steep drop below. She glanced up...

In time to see a man the size of a pro wrestler grab Shannon from behind.

“No! Let go of me!” Shannon cried, trying to pull away from him.

The guy, wearing a brown snow jacket and maroon ski mask, started dragging her away.

“Zoe, run!”

Instead, Zoe scrambled to her feet and went after them. Pay attention, Zoe. Pay attention to every detail. They were going to survive this assault and she would have to testify against this creep.

She grabbed Shannon’s arm and swung at the guy with her hiking stick. With a frustrated grunt, he threw Shannon aside and yanked on Zoe’s stick, pulling her within inches of his face.

Those eyes. She’d never forget his practically black eyes, glaring at her from behind the knit mask.

“This is not your fight,” he said in a low, threatening voice.

“She’s my best friend!” Zoe struggled to pull free.

“Then you’ll die with her.”

“Leave her alone!” Shannon charged and hit the guy shoulder to midsection. A linebacker couldn’t defend himself against her velocity, a skill Shan had learned from her two football-playing brothers.

The attacker loosened his grip and Zoe wrenched free from his hold.

“Run, Zoe!”

The man grabbed Shannon again, and she struggled against him. He started to hoist her over his shoulder, but she managed to rip off his ski mask.

His long, angular face, flushed bright red with anger, etched itself in Zoe’s brain. He was in his midthirties with a scar above his left eye.

“Let me go!” Shannon cried.

Zoe charged, more out of instinct than intellect, and in one swift motion, the giant backhanded her.

Zoe’s head snapped to the side and she stumbled back over the edge...

...into the white abyss below.

The text came in at 1:21 p.m.

Search-and-rescue volunteer Jack Monroe subtly flashed the alert on his phone to his second-in-command, Heather Bond, and excused himself from the business meeting with Brighton International. This was why he’d hired Heather: to manage his IT security business so he’d have the flexibility to leave Seattle and join a search when necessary. Depending on the mission he could be gone for days, taking up temporary residence close to the action.

At 3:02 p.m., Jack pulled up at the command center in the Cascade Mountains with Romeo, his border collie–Bernese mix, and was given instructions by the command chief.

By 3:15 p.m., Jack and Romeo had joined a team and were hiking up Mt. Stevens. Their assignment: find a fallen and suspected injured hiker, called in by a pair of hikers who had heard a woman scream and seen someone in a royal blue jacket fall down the mountainside. They weren’t sure where she’d landed.

Fresh snow covered the trails and the wind was picking up.

“Amateur hikers should never go out in this kind of weather,” Beatrice Spears said under her breath. Bea’s Lab mix, Cooper, continued his search for scent.

“It was supposed to be mild in the mountains today,” Leslie Vonn said. Her dog hadn’t been qualified yet, but it was good to have the extra person to offer praise when the dogs found the lost hiker.

When. Because if was not an option in Jack’s mind.

“Did you hear about the hiker who disappeared at Crystal Mountain last weekend?” Bea asked.

“Got buried in an avalanche?” Leslie recalled.

“The dogs found her in less than twenty minutes. Fast.”

Jack listened. He wasn’t much for small talk, didn’t know how to execute it effectively or, for that matter, what the purpose was. Another reason he’d hired Heather.

“I think Cooper’s got something,” Bea said.

The three humans watched Cooper zigzag up ahead. Something sparked in Jack’s chest, a familiar pang whenever one of the dogs caught scent and went into a hyperfocused state.

Maybe this would be an easy rescue, unlike...

Hope dissolved into frustration as the memory surfaced. He shoved it aside. There was no added value in remembering his failure.

Romeo raced ahead of Cooper and stopped, nose in the air, tail up, intently focused. The team caught up to Romeo on the snow-covered trail, where the dog stood over a red scarf. Jack praised him for the find, then Romeo sat, awaiting further instruction.

“Think it belongs to the victim?” Bea said.

“It’s possible.” Leslie reported their finding to Command. “Let’s continue up the trail.”

“If the victim was seen falling from the Prairie’s Peak area, how would her scarf end up here?” Bea said.

“Maybe it’s not hers,” Leslie said.

“Or she was coming down the trail when she fell,” Jack finally said.

The women glanced at him, as if they’d forgotten he was there. Jack liked it that way, dissolving into the background, watching, listening, so he could better understand people.

Another twenty-one minutes passed as they continued their ascent. The snow had let up a bit. Jack naturally hiked ahead of the women due to his tall stature and long gait.

They had gone silent, probably not wanting to interrupt the dogs’ focus, especially now that they knew they were on the right track. Another reason Jack liked being part of this group was the singular concentration required by the work. The ability to multitask mystified him as much as small talk. When he directed his attention to something, it became his sole focus.

Like today’s mission.

“It’ll be dark soon,” Leslie said.

Her words hung in the cold air between them. Although the team was skilled at making camp overnight, the woman who’d fallen and was potentially injured would be ill-prepared for the drop in temperature.

Romeo started a zigzag pattern, then abruptly stopped. His ears pricked.

Jack took a deep breath. Suspected what was coming.

Romeo took off into a full sprint, and Jack followed, frigid air filling his lungs. It was senseless to tell Romeo to slow down. Once the dog caught scent, nothing would stop him. It made him an excellent search-and-rescue dog, but sometimes his enthusiasm made Jack nervous. He feared the hardworking dog might lose his footing and slide off the edge.

Jack pushed harder to catch up to Romeo. The dog was trained to return to Jack’s side and pull on his toggle if he found something. Back and forth, back and forth, until Romeo united his handler with the missing hiker. Instead of exhibiting his trained indication, Romeo frantically paced at the edge of the trail up ahead. Jack interpreted this as him being in scent, but unable to make physical contact with the subject. Cooper ran up to Romeo and exhibited similar behavior.

Jack approached the dogs and glanced at what sparked their excitement.

A person in a royal blue jacket lay on a plateau.

“Good boy, good.” Jack played a quick game of tug-of-war with Romeo as his reward as he radioed Command. “I think we found her, over.”

“Status?”

He peered over the edge, sensing Bea and Leslie come up on either side of him. “Miss?” Jack called down to the prone hiker. “We’re with Mt. Stevens Search and Rescue!”

Silence.

“Unresponsive, over,” he said into his radio.

“Location?”

Jack opened his tracker app, took a screenshot and texted it to Command.

“We’ll send a medical team,” the command chief responded.

“Roger, out.”

The search-and-rescue K9 team hovered on the trail in stoic silence.

“You think she’s alive?” Bea asked.

Leslie glanced up at the mountain. “Depends on how far she fell. If she hit anything...” she hesitated “...critical.”

More silence.

“I’m thinking this is a recovery, not a rescue,” Bea said.

“Miss? Miss, can you hear me?” Jack shouted, not liking the direction of the conversation.

Romeo barked as if he was also trying to get her attention.

Jack hated this, hated feeling...out of control of a situation.

Romeo must have felt the same way, because his barking grew more insistent as if he were saying, Open your eyes already!

“Romeo, stop,” Jack commanded. The dog quieted and flopped down beside him.

Jack glanced at the horizon, realizing they had less than ninety minutes before they lost natural light. Rescuing the woman in the dark would present its own set of challenges.

“Wait, I think she’s moving,” Leslie said.

He snapped his gaze to the plateau. The victim started to get up.

Jack whipped out his binoculars. Peered below. He had to try to get a read on her expression even though that wasn’t his particular strength.

A bruise formed across her right cheek and blood seeped from her lip. Her eyes rounded with fear as if she suddenly realized she was in a vulnerable, dangerous spot.

“Don’t move!” he called. “I’m with Mt. Stevens Search and Rescue!”

She acted as if she didn’t hear him, as if she were disoriented beyond rational thought, which meant she could accidentally fall even farther...

To her death.

“Medics are on the way!” he tried.

Ignoring him, she dropped to her knees and glanced over the edge of the plateau. What on earth was she doing? It seemed like she was trying to figure out how to climb down. A decision that was both unrealistic and potentially deadly.

Then again, she could be dazed from a concussion and not know what she was doing.

“I’m going down,” Jack said.

“Wait, shouldn’t you—”

“He’s right,” Leslie interrupted Bea’s protest. “Who knows what she’ll do? Besides, Jack’s done this before.”

He had done it before, although not with favorable results.

Pulling rope off his pack, he anchored it to a nearby tree root jutting out from the mountain. Romeo shot him a look, like, Don’t go without me.

“Stay,” Jack said, in case the dog got any crazy ideas. He shouldered his pack, gripped the rope with gloved hands and let himself drift so he’d land gently on the plateau, about a hundred feet down.

He wouldn’t be too late this time, wouldn’t let any harm come to the woman in the blue ski jacket.

A few moments later he landed on the small ledge. Her back was to him and she acted as if she hadn’t heard his landing. “Miss?”

Startled, she turned quickly, her eyes wide with fear. “Don’t touch me!” She stepped back, precariously close to the edge.

He instinctively reached out to grab her arm.

“No, don’t—” She stumbled backward over the edge of the cliff.

TWO

Jack dove and caught the woman’s arm. It wasn’t too hard, considering she waved both of them like a helicopter trying to take off, or in her case, a woman trying to stop the momentum that would catapult her down a mountainside.

He landed on his chest, and air rushed from his lungs, but he didn’t let go. He grabbed her arm with his other hand, as well. Considering his size versus the petite victim’s, he calculated a more than 50 percent chance of hoisting her safely up.

“Don’t! Don’t hurt me!” she cried, thrashing about.

If she kept squirming, his chances dropped way below 50 percent. “Stop moving or I won’t be able to pull you up.”

“Why, so you can kill me?”

Kill her? At this point he had to assume she’d hit her head and was suffering from delirium. At the very least she was irrational, which meant she was unpredictable and potentially dangerous. Especially if she kept shifting and broke free of Jack’s grip, or even pulled him over the edge with her.

Jack scanned his brain for information on overly excited people and how to manage them. Something he’d read in a psychology book surfaced: An irrational person’s meaning of a situation is different than ours.

For some reason the woman in the blue jacket thought Jack wanted to harm her. She was stuck in that reality and he needed to yank her out of it. He decided to go completely random.

“My dog needs me!” he shouted.

She stopped squirming and looked up. Her wide brown eyes sparkled with unshed tears of fear. “What?” she said.

“My dog needs me.”

“Your dog?”

“If you fall, chances are I’ll go with you, because I won’t let go of your arm. Then I’ll die, or at the very least I’ll be injured, and Romeo will be all alone.”

“Romeo?” she repeated.

Make a personal connection and/or connect the irrational person back to reality.

“Romeo Albert Garrett Monroe,” Jack said.

She frowned, as if trying to figure out what he was talking about.

“I know,” he said. “I’ve been told that’s a lot of names for a dog. I’m Jack Monroe. Just two names.”

She blinked and was no longer squirming.

“I’m going to pull you up now.”

He didn’t wait for a response, didn’t want to take the chance she’d drift back into hysteria. In one swift motion he yanked her up and her lithe body slid across his and landed on the other side of him.

Flat on his back, an uncomfortable position considering his backpack, he took a deep, relieved breath. Snow started falling again, a little more insistent than today’s earlier dusting of flurries.

The woman sat up and scooted away from him. “Who are you?”

He’d just told her his name. Had she forgotten already?

“I’m Jack Monroe,” he said. “I’m a volunteer with Mt. Stevens Search and Rescue, K9 unit.”

Romeo barked from above, frustrated that he wasn’t a part of the action.

She glanced up.

“That’s Romeo,” he said. “You know my name and his name. What’s yours?”

“Zoe. Zoe Pratt.”

“Is she okay?” Leslie called down.

“Yes!” Jack responded, although he suspected she wasn’t totally okay. He wasn’t sure how serious her injuries were.

“Did you find Shannon?” Zoe asked.

“Who is Shannon?”

“My friend.”

“Did she fall, too?”

“No, she was...” Zoe hesitated and hugged herself “...taken.”

“Taken, you mean...?”

“A big guy attacked us and grabbed her and...” Her voice hitched.

Jack was supposed to do something here, something that would make her feel better. But what?

“They’re sending a team to treat your injuries and bring you safely down the mountain,” he offered.

She pinned him with intense brown eyes. “No, I’m not leaving without Shannon.”

He searched his mind for a logical response. There was none, since staying out here, injured and cold, wasn’t sensible. He didn’t want to upset her, so he tried something he’d heard before. “I understand.”

Although he didn’t. This woman might be helpful in the search for her friend, but delaying treatment of her injuries could make her condition worse. At least, her physical condition. He had no idea how to assess her mental condition.

“Because of Romeo?” she said.

“Excuse me?”

“You understand because you love your dog, Romeo?”

“Sure.”

He’d initially said he understood her desire not to leave the mountain because that was the appropriate response. Now that she connected her situation to his dog, it actually made some sense.

He didn’t like the fact that this irrational and highly emotional woman was making sense to him.

He took off his gloves and pack, and dug for the first aid kit. “You have a cut on your cheek.” He tore open an antiseptic wipe and reached out to treat her wound.

“Don’t.” She jerked away and started shivering. Not from the cold.

Although he wasn’t an expert at reading emotion, he knew fear when he saw it. His gut clenched. “I won’t hurt you,” he said.

She glanced at him with those expressive eyes, hugging her knees to her chest. Her body still trembled.

Although he’d talked her out of her hysterical response to falling, she might still be processing that trauma, or the trauma of seeing her friend kidnapped, or the trauma of... Oh. Something clicked in his brain.

“The man who took your friend,” he started, “did he hurt you, too?”

She pinched her eyes shut and nodded.

“Did he push you off the trail?”

“Yes,” she said softly.

“Zoe?”

She opened her eyes.

“He’s not here now. He can’t hurt you.”

“He’s got Shannon. Please call someone, the police, and tell them what happened.”

Jack wouldn’t be able to tend to her injuries unless he did as she requested. He clicked on the radio. “Command, this is Jack Monroe.”

“Go ahead, Jack.”

“The victim says her friend was taken by a stranger, the same man responsible for the victim’s fall, over.”

“Taken, as in kidnapped?”

“Affirmative.”

“I’ll notify the sheriff’s office. Which way are they headed?”

Jack glanced at Zoe.

“Up toward Prairie’s Peak,” she said.

He shared the information with base.

“Sheriff’s office might radio back for details,” Command responded. “This changes things. Be careful.”

“Roger, out.” Jack hooked the radio to his belt. Unfortunately, making the call didn’t seem to ease Zoe’s anxiety. “They’ll do their best to find her,” he said, but stopped before giving her the statistics on such a rescue. Given the criminal element of the situation, combined with weather reports calling for heavy snowfall... They wouldn’t be encouraging.

She reached up and fumbled for where her scarf would be.

“We found your red scarf on the trail. Leslie has it above,” Jack said. “You can use mine.”

“My necklace, where is my necklace?” She unzipped her blue jacket and searched her neck with trembling fingers. “It’s a silver dove. It represents the Holy Spirit. I need to hold it, to pray and...and... Shannon’s mom gave it to me when I was thirteen.” She shifted around, as if it had fallen off and was lying beside her.

She was growing more agitated. He had to calm her down. “‘Have I not commanded you? Be strong and of good courage. Do not be afraid, nor be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go,’” Jack said.

Zoe’s fingers froze, and she slowly lowered them. “‘...The Lord your God is with you wherever you go,’” she repeated. “You know the Bible?”

“I read everything in my aunt Margaret’s house growing up, including the Bible.”

She sniffed, a tear trailing down her cheek. Jack needed to do more.

“I will find your necklace,” he said, unsure how he was going to make good on that promise. Yet his words seemed to calm her. “I’d like to treat the cut on your head so it doesn’t become infected. It might take medics a few hours to get here.”

She nodded, hugging her knees tighter to her chest.

He tentatively reached out with one hand and brushed dark hair off her cheek. She closed her eyes as if he was hurting her, although he knew he wasn’t. Maybe she didn’t like to be touched, especially after everything that had happened today.

Lightly pressing the wipe against her skin, he said, “Did you have a hat?”

“Yes.”

She must have lost it when she fell.

Her wound wasn’t deep, which was good. It would be a shame if she ended up with a scar on her perfect skin, a reminder of the trauma she’d endured today. Yet she’d survived the fall and apparent kidnapping in fairly decent condition. At least from what he could see.

He took off his own knit hat and placed it on her head to keep her warm. “How about other injuries? Legs, arms, does anything else hurt?”

“My heart.”

That concerned him. Was she having breathing issues relating to a collapsed lung? “A pinching feeling or dull ache or...?”

“All of the above.” She pinned him with those soulful brown eyes. “I may never see Shannon again.”

He exhaled a sigh of relief. “Oh, okay. I thought you’d sustained a serious injury like a punctured lung or cracked ribs.”

“What I’m feeling is very serious.”

As he studied her expression, an image flashed across his mind.

His parents driving away from Aunt Margaret’s house, Jack standing on the porch holding his Lego lunch pail, a peanut butter and honey sandwich with chips tucked inside.

He didn’t want to drift back there, didn’t want to remember how he’d felt when his parents had abandoned him. He’d spent the last twenty-plus years shoving that persistent ache down where it couldn’t hurt him anymore.

Yet here it was.

“I apologize,” he said. “What you’re feeling is serious, but it’s not what I was referring to.”

She broke eye contact and glanced up at the sky. “Will they keep searching for Shannon at night?”

“The sheriff’s office will make that decision based on weather conditions.”

She frowned as a few flurries landed on her dark eyelashes. “You mean snow?”

“Snow and wind and available law enforcement personnel to accompany the teams.”

“Won’t they have a better chance of finding her tonight than if they wait until tomorrow?”

“The decision to proceed with a rescue is determined by both recovery of the subject, and safety of the team. If team members are hurt, that adds to the burden of the rescue. Not to mention this rescue is more complicated because of the kidnapping element.”

At the mention of the kidnapping, she hugged her knees even tighter.

Wanting to pull her out of her fearful state, he decided to make an attempt at small talk. “Are you from the area?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No. City girl.”

“Which city?”

“Portland.”

“And your friend, Shannon?”

“She lives in Mt. Stevens and works at the resort.”

“Is she an experienced hiker?”

“Yes. She’s the activities director at the resort and part of her job involves taking guests on hiking adventures.”

“And she chose to take an inexperienced hiker like yourself out on a winter hike?”

She shot him a look. He must have overstepped.

“You probably want to save details of today’s incident for the authorities,” he said.

“I, well... It sounded like you were being critical.”

There was truth to her assessment. Jack had little tolerance for people who didn’t use their good sense, and he was ill equipped to mask his judgment. Another reason why he’d struggled to make and keep friends: his brutal honesty. It comes with your brilliance, Jackie boy, his aunt used to say.

Some days, being smart was overrated. As he sat with Zoe Pratt, waiting for help to arrive, he wished he had less smarts and more compassion or understanding or some other characteristic that would ease that tense frown off her face.

Instead, he only had facts.

“Since your friend is an experienced hiker, she will have an advantage over her kidnapper. Unless she’s injured,” he offered.

Zoe’s eyes widened. Perhaps he should have left out the part about her friend being injured.

“Did she have a personal locator beacon?” he asked, trying to recover from his mistake.

“Yes.”

“Then her priority will be to activate it.” Now he was making stuff up. “Experienced hikers know how to make a fire and stay warm throughout the night.”

“Unless she’s unable to get away from that jerk.” She paused. “Or she’s hurt.”

Once again, Jack had done more harm than good. He thought it best to keep his thoughts to himself during the remainder of his mission. One thing he knew for sure, the sooner he distanced himself from Zoe Pratt, the better off they’d both be.

Now she knew how her teenage clients felt when they claimed no one was listening to them.

Zoe told rescue workers she wanted to stay in the mountains until her friend was found.

Search and Rescue had denied her request. Their job was to rescue Zoe and bring her to the hospital. If she denied their assistance, she’d be putting the SAR volunteers at risk.

After being checked out by medics at the scene, she’d been assisted down the mountain. God, please take care of Shannon.

As she waited in the ER to be officially released, a police officer in his forties joined her in the examining area.

“I’m Sergeant Peterson with the sheriff’s office,” he introduced. “Are you up to answering some questions?”

“Sure.” She shifted into a better position and winced.

“How do you know Shannon Banks?”

“She’s my best friend from childhood.”

“And you two were up in the mountains because...?”

“A winter hike, to clear our minds.”

“Was she upset or concerned about anything in particular?”

“I think she and her boyfriend were having trouble.”

“What kind of trouble?”

“She didn’t go into detail.”

“Where were you headed?”

“Prairie’s Peak Overlook.”

“Could you identify the kidnapper if you saw him again?”

“Absolutely.”

His nodded and checked his phone. “Excuse me, I have to take this.”

Zoe leaned back, still trying to wrap her head around it all. This was not how she’d planned to spend her time in Mt. Stevens: Shannon kidnapped by a stranger; Zoe bruised, terrified, and rescued by an enigmatic man named Jack.

He was an odd sort of fellow, asking random questions, then going completely silent as they waited on the plateau for help. Yet when she’d inquire about his work as a search-and-rescue volunteer—how a dog is trained, how many hours of training it takes for a person to be qualified as a handler—to distract herself from her worry, Jack Monroe was Mr. Chatterbox. It seemed like he was more comfortable talking about facts, figures and percentages of lost hikers rescued in the Cascade Mountains than dealing with Zoe’s panic about Shannon.

Once she had come down from her emotional spin, she surmised that Jack was highly intelligent and socially challenged, perhaps even on the spectrum. He and his dog with the four names had stayed close to her when SAR helped her down the trail.

Away from Shannon.

Would she ever see her again?

“Hello?” a voice said from the other side of the curtain.

“Yes?”

Jack stepped into the examining area and stood at the foot of her bed.

“Shouldn’t you be out looking for Shannon?” she said. Then a horrible thought seized her. “Unless...”

“We’ve cleared the section of trail up to Prairie’s Peak,” Jack answered.

“And you haven’t found her?”

“No.”

“So that’s it? You’re giving up?” She realized she was being awfully hard on the man who’d saved her life.

“They’ve temporarily called off the mission due to weather,” he said. “If there was any way to continue the search, I would be out there.”

“Of course.” Zoe sighed. “I wish I knew why this was happening to us.”

“Maybe your friend got involved with the wrong people.”

She snapped her attention to him. “Excuse me?”

“Your friend got involved—”

“I heard you the first time. Why would you even think that?”

He shrugged.

“Well, it’s not true.”

“People aren’t usually randomly kidnapped without cause.”

“How dare you malign Shannon. You haven’t even met her.”

He just looked at her.

“Well, say something,” she said.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re sorry for starters.”

“You posed the question, so I assumed you wanted—”

“It was a rhetorical question, thank you very much.”

A puzzled frown creased his forehead. His suggestion bothered her more than it should, which meant...she sensed potential validity to his comment.

“I’m feeling exceptionally vulnerable and I need people around me that I can trust,” she said. She was a jumble of emotions and feared she might completely lose it in front of this stranger. She wanted privacy. She wanted counsel with God.

She needed her friend back.

A man in a dark suit joined them. “Miss Pratt, I’m Detective Perry.” He narrowed his eyes at Jack. “What are you doing here?”

“Checking on Zoe.”

Zoe felt anxious and confused, both by Jack’s accusation and her own visceral response.

“I need to question Miss Pratt,” Detective Perry said.

With a slight nod, Jack left her alone with the detective.

“Any news about Shannon?” she asked.

“No, ma’am. I’d like to ask you a few questions about what happened.”

“Oh, okay.” She wondered how many police officers she’d have to repeat her story to.

“Why were you out hiking today?”

“To clear our minds of stress. Prairie’s Peak is a favorite spot of Shannon’s and she wanted to share her special place with me, you know, to cheer me up.”

The detective waited for more.

“I broke up with my boyfriend a few months ago,” she explained.

He nodded, wrote something down in a small notebook. “Can you describe the assailant?”

“A large man, over six feet tall, with an angular face and dark eyes. He was in his thirties with a scar above his left eye.”

“You think you could identify him?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll have you get with a forensic artist. What did the assailant say, exactly? Did he seem to know your friend or call her by name?”

“No,” Zoe said. “He didn’t say much only...” She reflected back on the moment she decided to catalog every detail about the man. “When he got close, I smelled cigarettes on his breath. I tried to help Shannon and he said, ‘This is not your fight.’”

“So, he was specifically targeting Shannon.”

“I don’t know. I guess it seems that way.”

“Then what happened?”

“When I wouldn’t let go of Shannon, he said...” the memory resurfaced in a flash “...that I would die with her.” She eyed the detective. “You’ve got to find her.”

“We’ll do our best. Specialized training is needed to go after a violent criminal in the mountains. We’re putting together a few teams, including police officers, that will be on standby for when the weather breaks. We can’t let search-and-rescue teams of civilians head up there without police officer escort. It’s too dangerous.”

She didn’t like his answer, but she understood it.

Zoe spent the next fifteen minutes answering the detective’s questions about Shannon. It was only then, when Zoe didn’t have the details that he seemed to be looking for, that she realized she didn’t know as much about the adult Shannon as she should.

Why hadn’t Zoe asked questions of her friend? Why hadn’t she found out more about what happened between Shannon and Randy, about her job, her social life? She felt helpless and utterly alone.

An hour later Zoe was officially discharged and for some reason she wished Jack would have returned. How silly.

“You are a fortunate woman,” the nurse said, then explained how to wrap her bruised ribs and manage the concussion. “Your injuries could’ve been much worse.”

Zoe didn’t feel fortunate. Her friend was still out there, cold, vulnerable and probably hurt.

Hopefully still alive.

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change... She recited the prayer silently.

Shannon had been violently kidnapped. Zoe couldn’t change that fact, but she wasn’t powerless. She could pray for her friend’s safety. Zoe didn’t believe Shan had gotten involved with the wrong people; she might find clues at Shannon’s house to assist with the investigation into her kidnapping.

As she waited outside the hospital for a ride to take her back to Shannon’s modest home, she considered her next move. Yeah, like what move? Hike up a mountain in the dark with a concussion and bruised ribs to find her friend?

For half a second, she wondered if the concussion was, in fact, affecting her good sense.

A squad car pulled up and a deputy got out. “Are you Zoe Pratt?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Deputy Ortman. Sergeant Peterson asked me to give you a ride.”

Once inside the cruiser, she decided to press Deputy Ortman for news about her friend. “What’s the status of the search?” she asked.

“Three search teams are ready to deploy once the storm passes.”

Well, three was better than one. Still...

“How is Shannon going to survive?” she said softly.

“If the kidnapper wants something from her or her family, it’s in his best interest to keep her safe.”

She kept circling back to the same question: Why Shannon? And who was going to get the ransom call? Her parents were stable financially, but not wealthy.

She wished she had a sounding board, someone to process it all with.

An image of Jack standing at the foot of her hospital bed flooded her thoughts. The unique man who’d saved her life. She had either been brusque with him, or an emotional tornado. She assumed he’d feel safest keeping his distance.

But who could blame her for being an emotional basket case in her situation?

She wondered if Jack was on one of the search teams standing by to look for Shannon.

They had to find her. Zoe wouldn’t accept the alternative. Few people other than Shannon knew the real Zoe, understood and loved her, faults and all.

The deputy turned into Shannon’s snow-dusted driveway leading to the charming, two-bedroom house. The snow hadn’t accumulated nearly as much down here as it had up on the mountain.

Zoe spotted a lone figure standing on the front porch. From this vantage point, it could almost be... Shannon. Hope flared in Zoe’s chest.

The deputy parked the cruiser and Zoe thanked him for the ride. As she approached the house, she said, “Shannon?”

The woman pulled the scarf off her face.

“Oh, sorry,” Zoe said. “I thought you were Shannon.”

The visitor extended her hand. “I’m Kelly Washburn, Shannon’s friend. We work together.”

“Zoe Pratt.”

“No offense, but I was hoping it was Shannon in the back of the squad car,” Kelly said. “I heard what happened and had to come over. I don’t know why. I had to do something.”

“I know the feeling.”

“I even brought sloppy burgers, her favorite, from the resort’s restaurant.”

“That was thoughtful, thanks.” Someone with a positive attitude. Zoe liked that. She scanned the porch. “I wonder where she keeps the spare key?”

“It’s probably unlocked,” Kelly said. “People out here rarely lock their doors. If not, she keeps the spare under the mat.”

Zoe twisted the door handle and it opened. Small towns were so different than urban areas. She would never leave her apartment door unlocked. They entered the modest home and Kelly proceeded to turn on some lamps.

Shannon had decorated the open floor plan with simple, comfortable furniture, plenty of throw blankets and insulated drapes. Each of the two bedrooms had its own heater and thermostat, as did the main living area, although Shannon said she relied on the fireplace to warm that space.

Zoe glanced at the fireplace. She and Shannon had stayed up until 1:00 a.m. the first night she’d arrived, reconnecting, talking about their careers, sharing accomplishments and disappointments. They weren’t done. They had so much more to discuss. Would Zoe get the chance?

She felt Kelly’s hand touch her shoulder. “We need to remain positive.”

Zoe nodded, grateful for the kind words. Although she was starting to feel the drain of the day’s trauma on her body and mind, she didn’t want to be rude. “So, you and Shannon met at work?” she asked.

“Yes, we bonded over our love of hiking, volunteer work and snickerdoodles.” Kelly placed the take-out bag on the table.

Zoe sat at the kitchen table but didn’t reach for the bag right away.

“Guess this was a bad idea,” Kelly said. “I mean, it’s not like either of us is hungry at a time like this.”

Zoe thought about the colorful snickerdoodles Shannon had packed for their hike. “I should probably eat something since my last meal was breakfast.”

“I’ll get us something to drink,” Kelly said.

“There’s juice and soda in the fridge. I’m good with water.”

Kelly went to the kitchen and pulled glasses out of the oak cabinet. “How did Shannon seem today?”

“Pretty good. Happy to be going on a hike. Why?”

“I don’t know. She’d been distant lately.”

“She said she was having boyfriend problems,” Zoe offered.

“Couples always have minor bumps,” Kelly said.

“Or major ones,” Zoe muttered.

“Uh-oh. Recent breakup?”

“Yeah. It’s done. I’ve moved on.”

Kelly placed a glass of water in front of Zoe and joined her at the table. “If it was meant to be, it will work out, right?”

“How about you? Do you have a steady boyfriend?”

“Semi-steady.”

“I’ve never heard that term before.”

Kelly opened the bag of food and shrugged. “It’s still too new to define.”

“Ah.”

Zoe appreciated the distraction of sitting here chatting about life and guys, almost pretending as if there weren’t some larger crisis taking place outside these four walls.

Shannon was gone. Kidnapped by a brutal man.

“What, you don’t like the burgers?” Kelly asked.

“Sorry, kind of distracted.”

“Hey, give me your phone and I’ll put my number in the contacts,” Kelly said. “That way you can call me anytime and vice versa.”

“Good idea.” Zoe handed her the phone. “Tell me more about Shannon’s behavior lately.”

“She’d been a little withdrawn. I figured that was because of Randy.”

Zoe nodded.

Kelly handed Zoe’s phone back. “Call me anytime. I mean it.”

“Thanks.” She opened the bag and pulled out a burger.

A tinkling sound chimed from Kelly’s phone. She glanced at it. “The boss.” She stood. “I’m sorry, I have to leave.”

“No worries. Thanks for coming by and bringing food.” Zoe walked Kelly to the door.

Kelly hesitated. “Call or text if you hear anything.”

“Absolutely.”

Zoe shut the door behind Kelly and sighed. It was nice to have someone to talk to about all this, someone who knew Shannon. It was also good to know that Shannon had friends in town, people who cared about her.

Zoe put the bag of burgers in the fridge. She decided to lie down, rest her sore body and eat later.

“Let go and let God,” she whispered. She grabbed her purse off the sofa and opened it. She found the tin of tummy-soothing herbal lozenges and took one, then spotted her canister of pepper spray. If only she’d had it earlier...

She sighed. It did no good to blame herself for what had happened, even if it felt like it was somehow her fault. She headed toward the guest bedroom, gripping the pepper spray as if she could somehow rewrite history. “If only” is a diversion from grace, a minister had once said. How true.

Stepping inside the darkened guest room, she reached for the light switch.

A firm arm wrapped around her neck from behind.

“Where is she?”

THREE

The mission was on indefinite hold. Although three teams were ready to go, the weather had taken a turn for the worse. They wouldn’t be going out tonight to search for Shannon Banks.

Instead of heading back to his rented hotel room, Jack sat in his SUV eyeing the small house in the distance. When he’d left the hospital earlier, he’d gotten a call from Leslie that she’d found the silver dove necklace belonging to Zoe Pratt. He’d gone to retrieve it in the hopes it might comfort Zoe, yet now he hesitated to knock on the front door of her friend’s house where she was staying. Why?

The woman’s fragile emotional state made him uncomfortable. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing, didn’t want to upset her again. After all, she was still angry with him for speculating about her friend’s association with questionable persons.

He eyed the silver dove in his palm. There was no downside in giving her the beloved trinket. Then again, his very presence would remind her that the search had been suspended.

He was overthinking things. Nothing new.

A low growl emanated from the back seat. Romeo sensed something outside.

Jack opened his door. Listened.

He decided it was an owl discussing evening plans.

Romeo barked repeatedly. Maybe he needed a bathroom break. Jack let him out of the truck and the dog bolted past him, sniffing the ground intently. It wouldn’t be the worst idea to bring the canine along when Jack encountered Zoe again. Romeo’s presence might take the edge off their human interaction.

Romeo bolted up the stairs to the front porch.

Jack started to have second thoughts. What if Zoe thought he was bringing news about her friend? She’d be sorely disappointed and possibly more upset. Yet he wanted to offer her comfort in the form of her necklace. It also wouldn’t hurt to recalibrate their relationship with a positive interaction. Assuaging things between them could help Jack become more familiar with her missing friend. If Shannon Banks had been able to escape her captor, Jack understanding her thinking process could potentially expedite the rescue.

He knocked firmly on the front door. Waited. Had Zoe already gone to bed?

He tried again.

Romeo’s ears pricked.

Jack studied him. This made no sense. They weren’t in the field, weren’t tracking scent.

Romeo bolted around the side of the house. Jack followed and found the dog barking furiously at a side window. Jack peered through a crack in the curtains but couldn’t see much as the room was pitch-black.

“Come on, before we get arrested for peeping.” Jack commanded his dog to accompany him to the front door.

He knocked again.

Romeo anxiously paced back and forth.

Dogs know things humans don’t. Words spoken by Jack’s mentor and dog trainer, Riley Cooper.

A crash echoed from inside the house.

Jack twisted the door handle. Locked.

He shouldered the door once, twice. Decided not to dislocate his shoulder.

Another crash and a woman’s scream pierced through the window.

He scanned the porch for potential spots to hide a key.

Under a planter. No.

Behind the rocking chair. No.

Aunt Margaret hid hers beneath the...

He flipped over the colorful, braided welcome mat and grabbed the key.

“Romeo, wait,” he ordered, not wanting the dog to be harmed.

Jack unlocked and flung open the door. A large man charged Jack, slamming the door shut and pinning Jack against the wall. Romeo barked from the front porch.

The man slugged Jack in the gut, then spun him around and applied some kind of choke hold. Jack shoved the assailant back against the kitchen counter, hoping the pain of making contact would weaken him. Instead the guy clung tight to Jack’s neck, putting pressure on his windpipe. Swinging Jack to the right, he smashed Jack’s head against the refrigerator.

Jack was not a rag doll to be tossed around at will. He had the strength necessary to free himself. He was not that weak kid anymore.

He jerked his elbow into the guy’s stomach once, twice. On the third jab, the attacker’s grip loosened enough for Jack to slip out of the hold and stumble away. Sucking in air, he fought to clear the stars from his vision. He had to think, strategize.

The assailant turned, his face red with anger. He had black hair, dark eyes and an angry expression. The guy was about to charge again. Jack scanned his immediate surroundings for a weapon.

“Not happening, dirtbag!” Zoe cried.

The guy turned toward her.

Jack charged him and put a hold of his own on the attacker.

Zoe had other plans. She was aiming what looked like a canister of pepper spray at the guy. “Get down, Jack!”

He pushed off the man and hit the floor. A hissing sound was followed by the guy’s howl of pain. From his position on the floor, Jack watched the assailant stumble across the room toward the back door.

“You’d better get out of here!” Zoe shouted. She opened the front door and let Romeo inside. The dog took off after the assailant but the screen door slammed shut before the dog could follow him outside. Romeo kept barking and jumping at the back door, wanting to go after him.

“Romeo, stop,” Jack said, then glanced at Zoe. “Call 911.” He leaned against the wall, finally able to catch his breath.

She knelt beside him. “Are you okay?”

“911,” he repeated, not wanting her to waste time worrying about him when police could be in pursuit of the attacker.

She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and sat beside him on the floor. As she made the call, she scrutinized Jack’s forehead and cheeks for signs of injury. The attention made him uncomfortable.

Romeo plopped down, laying his chin on Jack’s thigh. With soulful eyes, he looked up, and Jack stroked the dog’s head. “It’s okay, buddy.”

Zoe finished giving a description to the 911 operator and ended the call. Jack glanced at her worried expression. An expression that reminded him of his failures. An expression that made him feel ashamed.

“I’m fine,” he said, starting to get up.

Zoe pressed her hand against his shoulder. “Can we wait for paramedics to confirm that?”

“I don’t need paramedics.”

“You were violently assaulted.”

It wasn’t the first time, Jack thought.

But it was the second time in one day that Zoe had been brutally attacked.

“Did he...hurt you?” Jack asked, his gut twisting into a knot in anticipation of her answer.

“Scared me mostly.”

He nodded, relieved.

“You saved me again,” she said.

He shrugged, not knowing if her remark required a response.

“Why did you come back?” she asked.

“To give you this.” He pulled the silver dove necklace out of his pocket.

Her face brightened as she took it from him. “Oh, thank you.”

“And to apologize,” he said.

“For what, being honest?”

“You were angry with me for being honest.”

“Actually, I think I was angry with myself.”

“I don’t understand, but then I don’t understand a lot of things when it comes to human interaction.”

“I should have done more to help Shannon, for one. Plus, you had a valid point. But if she were in trouble, you’d think she would have told me.”

“You live five hours away. Why would she tell you?”

“Distance shouldn’t matter. Friends confide in each other.”

“Okay.”

“What, don’t you have any friends?”

Riley came to mind, but no one else. Volunteers he’d met through SAR weren’t close friends; they were teammates, work associates.

“You shouldn’t have to think about it,” Zoe said. The left corner of her mouth turned up slightly.

“You’re making fun of me,” he said.

“No,” she said, touching his shoulder. “I’m teasing, joking around.”

When he didn’t respond, she continued, “You know, making light of something?”

He knew what she meant, yet in his experience teasing someone made them feel small and foolish. Zoe’s comment didn’t make him feel that way. This felt...different.

“I didn’t mean to offend you,” she offered.

He shrugged. “Like I said, I don’t always understand people.”

“I’ve been there, too.” She reached out to pet Romeo. Jack noticed her hand was trembling.

Although still shaken, she was down on the floor trying to console Jack. He didn’t need consoling. He wasn’t traumatized by the assault as much as disappointed in himself that he hadn’t restrained the guy for police.

“I’m going to get up now,” he said.

“Okay, sure.” She straightened and extended her hand.

Jack ignored it and stood on his own, wanting to let her know he wasn’t seriously injured, and she didn’t have to worry about him. From her wistful expression, he wondered if he’d made a mistake.

They sat at the kitchen table and Romeo trotted up to Jack, waiting for direction. Jack pointed at Zoe. “Go help.”

Romeo went to Zoe’s side and waited expectantly.

“Pet him,” Jack encouraged. It always made Jack feel better when his fingers touched Romeo’s soft, Bernese–border collie fur.

A few minutes later the tension in Zoe’s features softened. Good, it was working.

“Did you recognize the man who broke in?” Jack asked.

“No.”

“Did he steal anything?”

“I don’t think he was a burglar.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because...” she hesitated “...he said, ‘Where is she?’”

“She? As in... Shannon?”

“I guess? This whole thing is so—”

“Puzzling,” he said.

“And scary. I mean, one guy kidnaps Shannon and another is trying to find her?” As she kept stroking Romeo’s fur, Zoe’s expression grew contemplative.

“Would you like me to make you some tea?” he offered.

His question elicited a slight smile. “Tea?”

“Tea calms the soul.” He repeated the phrase he’d learned from Aunt Margaret. Whenever he’d get tied up into knots about kids taunting him, or he felt like an idiot because he didn’t know how to interact properly, Aunt Margaret would brew two cups of tea and sit with him at the kitchen table.

“You’re an interesting guy,” Zoe said.

“So, yes? You’d like tea?”

“Yes, that would be nice.”

Good. It gave him something to do, a way to make her feel better. A challenge, since his skill set did not include nurturing.

“I’m sorry about before,” Zoe said.

“Before?” He flipped the gas burner on beneath the stainless teakettle.

“Being rude when you said Shannon could have gotten involved with the wrong people.”

“I wasn’t trying to be malicious.”

“I know.”

“I’ll try to be less insolent next time.”

“Interesting choice of words.”

A word that his grandmother once claimed defined Jack.

“Why ‘insolent’?” Zoe asked.

He pulled two mugs out of the cabinet and formulated an answer, not sure how much he wanted to share.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” she said.

“You apologized for being rude earlier, yet I come off as rude more often than not,” Jack said. “It’s the way I am. Rude, insolent, impertinent.”

“Whoa, which adult used those words against you?”

He turned to her. How could she possibly know?

Sirens echoed in the distance. “Police will be here soon,” he said. Excellent timing. He didn’t like talking about himself, his childhood.

“You should consider relocating,” he said.

“I feel close to Shannon in her home. Besides I want to be here when they bring her back.”

Zoe would risk her own safety to be here for her friend if authorities found her? It didn’t seem like a wise choice to Jack.

“Is there anyone who can stay with you?” he said.

“No, I don’t know anyone in town other than Shannon, her friend Kelly and...” she hesitated “...you.”

Unfortunate. More people in the house would discourage the attacker from returning. But not just anyone. That gave Jack an idea.

“What is it?” she said.

“Excuse me?”

“You got...” she motioned to her face “...a look, like the gears were spinning in your head.”

Wait, she recognized a change in Jack’s features when an idea was forming? How could she read him better than most of his closest associates?

“What do you do for a living?” he asked.

“I’m a counselor for adolescents and teens, why?”

That explained why she was able to read him so easily. Counselors were trained to identify feelings buried beneath the surface. He’d have to be more careful with Zoe. He didn’t want a repeat of his ex-fiancée, who used her intimate knowledge of Jack against him in the worst way.

“I expect you’re good at your job,” he said.

“Some days better than others. How about you? What do you do when you’re not rescuing damsels in distress from a mountain?”

“IT security. I own my own business.”

“I’m guessing that’s lucrative.”

“Privacy is priceless.” He wondered if she caught on to the double meaning.

“That sounds like an ad campaign.”

He glanced at her.

“Teasing again, sorry,” she said.

“Don’t apologize for my shortcomings.”

“I don’t see it as a shortcoming. Making light of things is simply not something you do. That’s okay. So, IT security, rewarding work, is it?”

He suspected she was making conversation to distance herself from tonight’s attack. “Rewarding enough, for now.”

“And what happens after now? I mean, you seem like the type of guy who would have a plan.”

Of course, it wouldn’t take long for a woman in her profession to assess his personality and figure out his type.

“My plan is to sell my business and travel the world.”

“Sounds lovely,” she said.

Her tone belied her words. He wondered why she disapproved.

“You won’t miss people when you move away?” she asked. When he didn’t answer right away, she said, “You have to have some friends, Jack. Or family?”

“Between the business and SAR, I don’t have time for a social life.”

Now she was the one to look confused.

Someone knocked on the front door. Romeo charged across the room, and Jack ordered him back to his side.

“It’s Detective Perry,” a voice called.

Good timing. Jack was growing more uncomfortable by the minute. Sharing intimate details about his life, his future plans, was not something that came easily to him.

Zoe stood and went to let the detective in, giving Jack the breathing space he needed to process their conversation. Regardless of feeling exposed to her in a way he hadn’t felt in years, Jack had an intense need to protect her, a woman who touched things in his psyche he’d thought lost or damaged or...nonexistent.

Detective Perry entered with another officer Jack recognized as Sergeant Peterson. Jack was relieved to see the sergeant, considering Perry’s obvious dislike of Jack.

“Jack,” Sergeant Peterson greeted.

“You again,” Detective Perry said to Jack.

“I was returning something to Zoe.”

“Something that could be used as evidence in this case?” Perry pressed.

“He brought me my dove necklace.” Zoe held it out between her forefinger and thumb. “It represents the Holy Spirit and Jack knew how important it was to me.”

“Your timing was convenient.” Detective Perry looked at Jack.

“Yes, wasn’t it?” Zoe said. “I don’t know what would have happened if Jack wasn’t here. And Romeo.” She reached out and stroked the dog’s head. She motioned the two officers to the kitchen table, and they sat down. Jack remained standing. “Jack and Romeo saved me, again.” She shot Jack an appreciative smile.

He looked away. This was dangerous, something beyond his understanding. Jack didn’t like things he couldn’t make sense of or control.

Detective Perry took their statements, including a description of the intruder.

“Midforties, about my height wearing a leather jacket,” Jack said.

“He spoke with a raspy voice and had a birthmark on his neck below his jawline.” Zoe pointed to her own neck.

“Good thing you had pepper spray,” Perry said.

“Too bad I didn’t have it with me earlier on the hike.”

As they discussed the attack, Jack texted the SAR command chief and asked him to contact certain team members to put Jack’s plan into motion. The people he had in mind were perfect for his goal of protecting Zoe.

“So, he was looking for Shannon.” Detective Perry’s comment was a statement, not a question.

“It’s possible, yes,” Zoe answered. “Which means she escaped her kidnapper. That’s a good thing, right?”

“It could be,” Perry said.

“But?”

“There are too many unanswered questions.”

“At the very least, the kidnapping and tonight’s break-in are related, right?”

“We’d be speculating,” Perry said.

“Then speculate,” Zoe pushed.

Jack had considered her fragile a few minutes ago, but not right now. Right now she was challenging authorities.

Jack’s phone vibrated with a text message. Good, his plan was coming together.

“It would expedite the investigation if we had more detailed information about Miss Banks,” Sergeant Peterson said.

Detective Perry shot him a look, then redirected his attention to Zoe.

She continued to pet Romeo, who seemed to be offering comfort. Good dog.

“How about problems at work or more specifics about her boyfriend?” Perry said.

“She hadn’t heard from him since he went to visit family in Colorado. She didn’t talk much about work.”

The officers shared another look.

“What?” Zoe said.

“We suspect she was involved in criminal activity, which is the motivation behind her kidnapping,” Detective Perry said.

“No, that can’t be right,” Zoe said, glancing at Jack.

He looked away, uncomfortable at seeing the pained expression on her face.

“What...what kind of criminal activity?” she asked.

“Drugs,” Jack guessed.

“Why would you say that?” Perry countered.

“It’s logical.”

“Is it? I don’t think so. I think you know something and you’re holding back.”

“Detective,” Sergeant Peterson intervened. “Jack’s been with Search and Rescue for four years. He’s solid.”

“Everyone’s solid until they’re not. How’s it logical, Einstein?” Perry said.

“Stop!” Zoe put out her hand like she was breaking up a fight between middle school kids. “Why do you think Shannon was involved in drugs?”

“We can’t discuss an open investigation,” Perry said.

“Fine, then we’re done.” Zoe stood and planted her hands on her hips.

The men hesitated before standing. “Sergeant Peterson is going to move you to a different location,” Perry said.

“No, thank you.”

“Ma’am, not only is it not safe for you here, but we need to send a forensic team to dust for prints.”

“Pointless,” Jack said. “He wore gloves.”

Detective Perry glared at him.

“You may leave now,” Zoe said, polite yet firm. “I’m capable of taking care of myself.”

“Considering what happened tonight, I would have to disagree,” Perry said.

“Well, Detective, the assailant is not here, and wherever he is, he’s in a world of hurt from my pepper spray. I am unharmed and have more spray in my possession.”

“Ma’am, I must insist—”

“Thank you for coming tonight.” She crossed the room and opened the door.

The detective hesitated as he passed her. “I can’t protect you if you make unwise choices.”

“I understand. Good night.”

Detective Perry left.

Sergeant Peterson paused by the door and handed her a business card. “My cell number. Call anytime. I can see about having an off-duty deputy watch the house, but I can’t make any promises.”

“I’ve got tonight covered,” Jack said.

The sergeant and Zoe both looked at him.

“A few SAR members will spend the night until we’re called out again tomorrow morning.”

“Wait, when did this happen?” Zoe asked.

“You shouldn’t put civilians at risk,” Sergeant Peterson said.

“Sally Frick and George Connelly are part of the group. They’ve been informed of the situation. Should be here shortly.”

“Ah,” Peterson said.

“Ah?” Zoe questioned.

“Frick and Connelly are former military,” Peterson explained. “No one’s getting in the house if they’re here.”

“We’ll take turns keeping watch,” Jack said. “Zoe will be safe.”

Zoe will be safe.

Jack’s words gave Zoe enough comfort to allow her to get some sleep. That was, until a nightmare abruptly woke her the next morning.

She struggled to calm her breathing. Glanced around the room. The six-foot-tall armoire had been moved to block the window, probably to prevent the intruder from gaining access to the room.

Low murmurs drifted through the wood door from the living room. She washed up and dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt. She opened the bedroom door to a four strangers with backpacks and bedrolls. She’d been so exhausted last night that she hadn’t heard the team members show up and lay out their sleeping bags on the floor.

“Good morning,” she said, searching the room for Jack, but didn’t see him.

A woman in her fifties greeted her. “Hi, Zoe, I’m Sally Frick.” They shook hands. “Sorry if we woke you.”

“You didn’t. So, you’re the heroes who stayed over to protect me last night?”

“Hero, I like that,” said a man in his thirties.

An older man gave him a playful shove. “Who says she was talking about you? Come on, let’s move.”

“Weather conditions have changed,” Sally said to Zoe. “We’re meeting law enforcement personnel and heading back up Mt. Stevens to search for your friend.”

“Where’s Jack?”

“He got an early start with the first team. Sergeant Peterson posted a deputy outside to keep watch of the house, although I think Peterson would prefer you to find another place to stay temporarily given what happened last night. We may not be back for a few days. Weather is looking good.”

“Oh, okay. Be careful.”

“Thanks, we will,” Sally said.

The group of two men, two women and three dogs headed out. Zoe watched them through the window, wishing she could have seen Jack this morning to thank him.

For coming back last night and saving her.

For going out this morning to find Shannon.

For being a grounding presence in her life.

Whoa, back up. The trauma of the last eighteen hours and possibly the concussion must be messing with her cognitive ability. It wasn’t like her to rely on a man for stability, especially a man with such opposite views on life.

Jack Monroe was an IT genius who planned to sell his business and travel the world. Where was the stability in that? She had endured too much instability growing up and had made herself a promise never to feel unsettled again. Wasn’t that why she and Tim had ultimately broken up? Because his obsession with climbing the corporate ladder and constant, last-minute canceling of their plans left her feeling untethered? She wanted to be able to count on something, someone. Tim wasn’t the guy.

And neither was a man like Jack Monroe.

This was definitely her concussion talking. She barely knew the man and had no business thinking of him in those terms.

She turned toward the kitchen a little too quickly, her body aching from the fall yesterday. Well, that and perhaps being yanked around by the creep in the leather jacket last night.

Frustration burned in her gut, as if she’d ingested a handful of chili peppers. While teams were out searching for Shannon, Zoe was stuck in the house doing absolutely nothing.

A familiar feeling of helplessness spread through her chest.

“Oh no, I’m stepping off that one,” she said, referring to an expression called the victim triangle that her counseling mentor had taught her years ago.

Deciding to be proactive, not reactive, Zoe fixed herself peanut butter on toast for sustenance. As she ate, a plan formed in her mind. She’d search the house for clues, insights into Shannon’s state of mind, and maybe even prove that police were way off base suspecting Shan of being involved with drugs. The nerve.

Opening a small, cherrywood nightstand beside Shan’s bed, Zoe spotted a pale blue journal. She turned to the first page, her gaze settling on her friend’s fluid handwriting.

She quickly snapped it shut. This felt wrong, like she was violating her friend’s trust.

But if it was the only way to gain insight into Shan’s life...

“I’m sorry, Shannon.” Zoe opened it again and began reading, first the usual stuff—frustration at work, pressure from her parents to move back home—then stories from Shannon’s work as a volunteer counselor at a local youth center.

Zoe flipped another page and landed on an entry titled “Randy and Kelly.”

I can’t believe what’s happening. I trusted them with my heart and they betrayed me. Isn’t there anyone who loves me and will protect my heart?

“Me, I’ll protect your heart,” Zoe whispered. She flipped the page.

And saw her own name.

Zoe is coming to visit. I don’t know if I have enough energy for her, if I have the strength to comfort her when my own heart is breaking.

Was that how she felt about Zoe? That she was an energy-sucking friend who needed comforting, a friend who sapped Shannon’s emotional strength?

“I can’t think about that now.” Zoe found renewed strength in her determination for answers, especially about Randy and Kelly.

She decided to call Kelly, be pleasant and set up a meeting where Zoe could confront her face-to-face about what she’d read.

“Hello?” Kelly answered.

“Hi, it’s Zoe. I need to talk to you.”

“I’m actually at the SAR command center prepping food for the team. Why don’t you come by and help?”

“Okay.”

Kelly gave her the location. “See you soon.”

“Thanks.”

Zoe left the house and spotted a police officer parked out front. She thanked him for being there, and told him where she was going.

As she drove off, she tamped down her anger so she’d be rational when she questioned Kelly. She considered the possibilities in her mind and landed on the most obvious: Kelly and Randy had a relationship behind Shannon’s back.

How could they betray her like that?

She punched the address Kelly had given for the command center into her phone and pulled her compact car onto the main road. She planned what she’d say, intent on being calm, not accusatory. She’d never get answers that way.

Thirty minutes later Zoe pulled up to the command center and approached the food tent. Kelly spotted her and smiled. “Hi, Zoe.”

Zoe couldn’t bring herself to smile back. As she was about to question Kelly about the journal entry, a middle-aged man with jet-black hair stepped up beside Kelly. Zoe did not want an audience.

“Zoe?” the man said. “As in Shannon’s friend?”

“Yes,” Zoe said.

“I’m Curt Underwood, Shannon’s boss at Mt. Stevens Resort.” He extended his hand. “I’m sick about all this. She’s one of my best employees. Please, if there’s anything I can do while you’re in town. How about I comp a room for you at the resort?”

“Thanks, but I’m staying at Shannon’s place.”

Curt pulled out a business card and handed it to her. “Call anytime, if you need anything.”

“Thank you.” Zoe turned to Kelly. “Could I talk to you?”

“Sure.” Kelly motioned to Curt. “Can you take over packing the sandwiches for a minute?”

“Of course.”

Zoe led Kelly away from the group.

“What’s wrong?” Kelly said.

Once they were out of earshot, Zoe turned. “I know about you and Randy.”

“Me and Randy?”

Someone touched Zoe’s arm. She glanced over her shoulder at Jack. “Jack? I thought you were up searching for Shannon.”

“I was.” He broke eye contact.

Dread filled her chest. “You mean...?”

She glanced behind him at two men carrying a body bag.

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