The Gift-Wrapped Groom (23 page)

She climbed the creaky stairs, opened the door and stepped inside. It was dark. Neither Seth nor Ginny were anywhere in sight. She was just turning to go when she heard voices coming from the open storeroom at the back. Noel made for it.

One of the voices was raised in anger. She recognized it immediately. She halted at the ajar door.

“Hurry up,” Berna Vane yelled. “The Carsons could be coming back at any time, you fool.”

Noel peeked through the open slit between the door and its frame, very curious to see who Berna was calling a fool.

Kurt Haag dumped a sack of feed onto the pile near the ramp leading out to the loading dock where his new Chevy S-10 blue pickup waited. “Berna, I don't know what you're all het up about. It's only because of me and this here feed that those ranchers are selling out to you at all.”

Berna's voice rose shrill with anger. “Kurt, are you not getting this through your thick head? Can you possibly appreciate what will happen to you—to us—if the people of Midwater ever find out you've been deliberately slipping moldy hay into their cattle feed and infecting their cows with a deadly fungus that leads to miscarriages?”

“They ain't gonna find out.”

“No, because you are going to get rid of all this contaminated feed you slipped into Seth's supply right now.”

“Look, I'm doin' it. Relax, Berna. No one knows. Why, you wouldn't have even guessed the truth if I hadn't dropped you a few hints.”

Berna was pacing in the snow, her hands on her hips, obviously only half listening to Haag. “Aiding and abetting. That is what they'll charge me with. My career will be down the tubes. I might even do jail time!”

“Now darlin'—”

She stopped dead in her tracks and whirled on him. “Don't you darling me. We're finished. I must have been out of my mind to have trusted you! I promised you a percentage every time you convinced a rancher or merchant to sell.
Convinced,
Kurt. Not forced into selling by burning out their business or poisoning their stock!”

“Yeah, well, I convinced a heap more than you could have with your psychological approach. And you still owe me for the last two ranch signings, remember?”

“You'll get your money. But that's all. No more. Do you hear me? You're to do nothing else.”

Kurt stepped forward and wrapped a burly arm covered in a sweaty red-plaid shirt around her. “Why sure, darlin'. Now after I get finished here, you and I can—”

Berna pushed him away and slapped his face—hard. “You fool! You hear nothing, understand nothing. I said we're finished. Over. Everything. You're trouble. Nothing but trouble. I wash my hands of you.”

Noel watched as Berna pivoted on the toe of her boot and stalked off through the rapidly falling snow to her Mercedes. Haag watched her back tires, spewing up snow as she drove away, cursing nastily, his face red, his hand rubbing his struck cheek.

Noel's heart pounded as she leaned back from her vantage point and found herself up against the Mercantile's counter, her mind racing with the implications of what she had just heard. Haag had deliberately set fire to a business? That could only be Babs and Edward's bakery. And he'd poisoned the range cattle by feeding them moldy fodder?

It was unthinkable anyone could do such things. Horrible. Criminal. Seth and Ginny's CB unit crackled with static behind Noel, giving her a start, bringing her out of her dazed shock. She raced for the front of the store, eager to get hold of Deputy Sheriff Tucker and tell him the news. She had just reached the door and put her hand on the knob, when Haag's raspy voice yelled from behind.

“Hey! What are you doing here?”

Noel swung around to face the burly giant marching toward her down the aisle. Her anger grew with every breath as the images of all her neighbors and friends—faces full of loss, sadness, fear—flashed through her mind. This man—this man who lived among them, who had dared to call himself one of them—this man was the cause of it all.

Her anger engulfed her, pressing her hands into fists by her sides, shoving her chin up into the air as he came to stand in front of her.

“You're despicable, Haag. I don't know how you can live with yourself. I'll see you brought up on charges for burning out Babs and Edward and poisoning the valley's cattle.”

His eyes flashed at her. “So, you got big ears as well as a big mouth. Well, looks like I'll just have to do something about that.”

Noel's only real warning was Mistletoe's very threatening, uncharacteristic growl. She never saw the blow coming. Just a flash of red-plaid sleeve. And then she fell into a soundless solid blackness.

N
icholas was just finishing up around the well, when he heard Mistletoe's barking. He looked up to see the dog chasing after Haag's blue Chevy S-10 that was laboring under a full load as it headed out of the village. He shook his head. That little dog would chase anything that moved.

He hooked the last light into place and checked the wires he had spread through the conduit and covered with snow. The angles seemed right, but he would come back on Warlock tonight to conduct the final test. For the moment, he had done what he could.

A gust of whirling snow drove into the side of his face as he trudged back to the community center. He exchanged waves with Tucker as the deputy sheriff drove off in his truck.

Nicholas turned to see Mistletoe heading directly for him, barking furiously. He paused, puzzled at the excitement of the little dog as he reached him, leaping and barking frantically.

Nicholas peered through the heavy drape of snow, looking for Noel. He saw her Dodge in front of the schoolhouse. He took off for it, with Mistletoe still barking and leaping behind him. Noel's keys sat in the ignition of the Dodge where she'd left them. Her shoulder bag was on the seat. She was not there.

He turned to the building and quickly took the steps two at a time. Inside, the schoolroom was dark. Nicholas switched on the lights. It took him only a moment to see that no one was there. Mistletoe remained outside on the narrow, wooden porch, jumping and barking. Nicholas turned to look at him, an uneasy gnawing sensation growing inside his stomach.

He quickly switched off the lights, closed the door, jumped off the porch and took off at a run in the direction of the community center, Mistletoe at his heels. Something was wrong. Except for the few times that Noel had had to attend a meeting in the village, Mistletoe never left her side.

Nicholas leapt over the front steps of the community center, tore open the door and charged inside. Doc Mallory and Ginny Carson looked up, startled.

“Oh, it's you, Baranov,” Doc said as he returned his attention to a string of lights he was stapling to the edge of the stage platform.

Nicholas's eyes quickly searched the room, then rested again on the veterinarian. “Have you seen Noel?”

“Last I knew she was at the school,” Ginny said.

Mistletoe charged through the door then, scooting between Nicholas's boots. He jumped onto his hind legs, resting his front paws on Nicholas's shins, barking frantically.

Something red on Mistletoe's coat caught Nicholas's eyes. He dropped to his knee and ran his fingers over the little dog's coat.

The gnawing sensation inside Nicholas's stomach grew. “Blood. He's been hurt.”

Doc Mallory put down his stapler at Nicholas's news and quickly came over to examine the excited little dog.

“Well, he sure has been, poor little guy. Nasty gash on his shoulder. Now, how'd you get that, boy?”

Mistletoe barked wildly, jumping within Doc's hands, trying to struggle free despite his wound.

Nicholas spoke quickly. “Noel's truck is outside, but I cannot find her. I—”

Nicholas was interrupted by the slamming of the door behind him. He whirled to see Seth Carson stomping in, red in the face.

“Ginny, you ain't gonna believe this. Someone has just stolen ten sacks of feed right out of our storeroom and off the loading ramp just as bold as you please.”

Ginny shot to her feet. “Stolen? Seth, you can't be serious. Why, in all our lives, nobody in Midwater has ever locked—nor needed to lock—a door against a neighbor.”

Seth's words were sad and fierce. “Well, Ginny, my gal, looks like we a going to have to start to.”

Nicholas rose. Mistletoe freed himself from Doc's hold and began barking and jumping at his side once again.

Nicholas forced himself to remain calm, while every nerve inside him pounded with urgency. “Mr. Carson, this theft took place recently?”

“Must have been over the last hour. Whoever did it left the doors to the loading ramp wide open, just begging for the wild animals to come on in and help themselves to the rest of the feed. Why, if I hadn't gone back to turn off the CB, I would've probably just thought the wind had blown the back doors open and animals had dragged off those sacks of feed during the storm.”

“So whoever stole this feed thought you had left your store for the day? That you would be home waiting for the storm to pass?”

“So it would seem.”

“Who thought you had left for the day?”

“Well, Ginny and I told Doc here when we came by to help him with a few finishing touches.”

“There was no one else?”

“Well, Kurt knew, of course. He was still in the store finishing a cup of coffee when we left about thirty minutes ago. He was just about ready to go home himself and batten down the hatches.”

Nicholas's mind flashed to an image of Kurt Haag's blue truck and Mistletoe barking and chasing after it. And then other images. Images of Kurt's threatening scowl when he watched Noel hug her grandfather. Images of Kurt's large paws grabbing Noel's shoulders.

“Haag did not go home thirty minutes ago,” Nicholas said. “He drove away only a couple of minutes ago, the back of his truck full. Quickly, Mr. Carson. Where does Haag live?”

“Kurt? You can't think that Kurt had—”

“Mr. Carson, there is no time. Please tell me where this man lives.”

“North out of the village. About ten miles off of Bitterroot Road.”

“But he was not driving north when he left. He was heading west.”

“Well, then, I can't help you there. Nothing but mountains west of here. Can't think of why Kurt would be heading up into them with a storm coming on.”

* * *

N
OEL AWOKE
groggily to darkness, a blazing headache, a moldy smell, a heavy weight on top of her and a rolling motion beneath her. She groaned and tried to raise a hand to her forehead only to find her arms and legs had been tied tightly to her body.

In a sickening flash it came to her. The confrontation with Haag, Mistletoe's warning growl, the blow to her head that must have knocked her unconscious.

Damn, it hurt. What had the man hit her with? Felt like a sledgehammer. Must have been his fist. The anger that rose with that image intensified the pain in her head. Trying to summon up some courage against the pain, she fought to clear her brain, to focus on where she was and what she could do about it.

The engine noises and rolling motion were clearly that of a vehicle. Yes. The back of a vehicle. Haag's pickup? Had to be. She had never liked the burly giant. But until now, she had never realized how dangerous he could be. Setting fires. Poisoning cattle. Assaulting her. Tying her up this way. The man must be mad.

Mad.
The word swirled in her brain with all its sickening implications. She pushed it aside. She had to think. Concentrate.

What was this heavy weight he had put on top of her? The moldy smell all around her? Of course! The sacks of doctored feed. The ones that had been used to infect the cattle. So, Haag had dumped her into the back of his truck along with the feed. And presumably driven out of the village. To where? His place? For what? What did this maniac plan to do now?

She wished she knew how long she had been out. She tried to concentrate on the engine sounds, the road noises, to latch on to anything that seemed familiar. The air was cold, very cold. Even surrounded by the sacks of feed, she could feel the chilling wind, as well as the sharp turns.

That was it. The truck was climbing into colder air, and the sharp turns must be the switchback of a mountain road.
A mountain road?
Why the mountains?

Noel felt the change in road surface and speed almost immediately. The truck was rolling to a stop on a turnout.

Her whole body tensed as she heard the engine being cut. The sound of the wind was loud and wild. The driver's door of the cab slammed shut, the force vibrating through her. She couldn't hear Haag's boots stomping through the snow over the howling wind, but she could see them in her mind's eye. Coming around to the back of the truck. Coming for her.

Desperately, she tried to consider what to do. She was tied so tightly, she couldn't move. But she wasn't gagged. Why? Was it because he hadn't expected her to regain consciousness? Or was it because he knew it wouldn't matter if she regained consciousness because there was no one around to hear her cries for help?

Dear God, what did this maniac plan to do?

One by one, Haag lifted the heavy feed sacks off the truck bed. He left the truck each time carrying one, but she could not see or hear where he went because of the fierce sounds of the wind roaring through the trees. Her heart beat wildly in her chest. She tried to calm it, to think clearly.

She had two choices. She could let him know she was awake and probably get struck on the head again or gagged for her trouble. Or she could pretend to still be unconscious and try to use it to her advantage.

The choice was a pretty obvious one. By the time the feed sack directly on top of her had been lifted off, Noel's eyes were closed, her body limp. Two big paws grabbed hold of her ankles and pulled. Her flesh and bones vibrated as he dragged her over the steel bed of the truck, but it was the full blast of arctic air closing in on all sides that very nearly gave away the fact that she was conscious.

It was freezing. She shook all over, but he didn't seem to notice.

She could smell Haag's whiskey breath as he slung her body over his shoulder just like a sack of feed. Inside, every nerve recoiled at the man's touch, but with a fierce determination of will, she remained limp. Her head dangled over his shoulder as he trudged through the snow. She used her position to open her eyes to see where she was.

But all she could see were great blankets of snow beneath her on the ground, swirling around her in the frenzied arctic air, slapping against her face. All she could hear was that dreadful wind.

Where was he carrying her? What was he planning? Surely even he wouldn't...couldn't...”

Her questions were answered all too suddenly when Haag shifted her weight off his shoulder, lifted her and threw her into the air.

The shocked cry that tore from Noel's lungs was covered by the boisterous, angry wind. She fell on her back into the snow with a breath-stopping blow and began to roll. And that's when she realized he had dumped her down a hill.

She rolled and rolled helplessly, blindly, terror stricken, unable to use her arms or hands to stop or protect herself. Downward, downward, ever downward like a cut log. Twigs, branches, stumps and rocks all beat at her body beneath the snow. She had no breath left to cry out. Eventually, blessedly, the salvation of unconsciousness overtook her.

* * *

N
ICHOLAS WAS WAITING
in the swirl of icy wind as the blue truck finally descended the narrow mountain road and came into the final turn. As expected, Haag yanked the wheel to narrowly avoid running into the Dodge, which sat squarely blocking both lanes, its lights on bright beams.

Haag's truck dived through the heavy snowdrift on the shoulder, bringing the S-10 to an abrupt stop. Nicholas could see that Haag was stunned for a moment. He watched as the man shook himself, then regained his wits sufficiently to grab a tire iron from beneath the driver's seat, charge out of the cab and stomp toward the Dodge, waving it in blazing anger.

But when he yanked open the driver's door to the Dodge, he found no one was in the truck.

Nicholas stepped up behind him, wrapped a strong, steel arm around the man's windpipe and easily removed the tire iron from Haag's hand. Nicholas threw it into the snow.

“Who the hell...”

Mistletoe leapt around their feet barking; then he circled Haag, snarling and growling.

Haag tried to kick the little dog away, but Nicholas tightened his arm against the man's windpipe in warning. His tone was hard and deep as a glacier and twice as cold.

“Where is Noel?”

Haag squirmed against the arm of steel at his throat, but it did not budge. “Don't know what you're talking about. Let me go or I'll have the law on you!”

Nicholas brought the edge of his free hand down with resounding force on the man's right arm, splitting it like a hollow log. Haag bellowed.

“That is for striking her dog. If you have hurt Noel, I promise you the pain will be so great, you will be begging me to let you die. Now you will tell me where she is.”

* * *

F
OR THE SECOND TIME
in as many hours, Noel awoke to a pounding in her head. The pain traveled down her tongue, through the back of her jaw, across the back of her head and down her spine. Still, it was not the worst of her worries and she knew it.

She would not die from the pain in her head. But she could very well die from the bone-chilling cold that was seeping so quickly into her flesh.

She could see nothing. She had no idea how far she had rolled from the road into the deep ravine. But she could feel the snow covering her. If she didn't get out of here and soon, she would freeze to death.

Which is obviously exactly what Haag intended. She fought back the fear and anger at that realization. She didn't have the time for either.

She tried to move her arms, her legs, all of which were still tightly tied and growing so numb so quickly.

She strained against her bonds, trying to free even one hand; but after several minutes, all she had succeeded in doing was abrading the skin on her arms and legs. Even through her coat and gloves, the cold bit into her.

She told herself she'd be missed. She told herself that Nicholas would look for her. She told herself that somehow he'd find her. It wasn't logical, of course. He couldn't know about Haag. He couldn't know that she had been abducted. But she could not cling to logic now. She had to cling to hope. It was all she had.

Her body couldn't stop shivering, its automatic thermostat responding to too low a drop in internal temperature, desperately trying to warm her—desperate because it was failing.