Alaskan Wilderness Rescue, page 3
His instincts had been right that she’d been in trouble. Were his instincts right about something else going on, too? That she was still in danger and that she might know more than she was letting on?
“I still think we should let the Troopers know what happened. Or at least Destruction Point Police. They should be on their way.”
Elsie raised an eyebrow, and yeah, he got it. The Destruction Point Police Department consisted of three men, one patrol car, two old bicycles and a boat that made the bicycles look high-tech. Not that they were incompetent; one of his best friends was on the force. But it was a very small town with the resources to match and not a lot of crime beyond the occasional bar fight or domestic dispute, which was usually resolvable by one of the pastors of the two local churches. Elsie was talking about a decades-old ordeal. No way would they have the resources to look into that.
But why not let the Troopers investigate? Was she trying to protect her privacy? Wyatt had picked up on her discomfort just having him in her house.
The last thing he wanted to do was push her into something that made her uncomfortable.
“Do you honestly think this was random?” He took another sip of coffee and studied her as she considered the question. Before he’d decided to be a pilot and focus all his energy there, he’d done better in his few college classes than his family had expected. His psychology classes had been his favorite. He enjoyed reading people, something he’d probably used for negative purposes once upon a time.
Elsie’s facial expression didn’t change, but her eyes did focus on some point beyond him for a long moment before she met his eyes again. “I don’t think getting the Troopers involved will help either way. And I think there’s definitely a good chance it’s random.”
Not the answer that would help him sleep well at night, but one that could probably let him walk away and leave her to the privacy she clearly wanted. He nodded once.
“I appreciate that you came over here. I still don’t get why you did, but I appreciate it. I wouldn’t have expected it.” She was usually so polished, it was odd to hear her stumble through her speech like this.
“I had to, once I heard it on the radio. I wondered if it was you.” He looked away from her, not sure what she’d see in his eyes otherwise. Any kind of interest on his part would be unwelcome, he knew. She deserved so much better than him. “Law enforcement should be here soon,” he finally said after searching for a topic. “What’s taking them so long?”
Elsie shook her head. “Maybe they got here when we were in the woods and went to search?”
Seconds later, a knock on the door seemed to confirm her theory. Especially when they heard a voice say, “Destruction Point Police.”
With one last look in his direction, one that seemed to remind him that she didn’t want a big deal made of this, Elsie started toward the door.
“I’ll stick around till they leave and then head out, if that’s okay.”
She met his eyes, nodded and then pulled the door open.
“Elsie. Thank goodness.” Seth Winters, one of the local police officers, had been in Wyatt’s graduating class. He was an overall good guy. Probably Wyatt’s favorite of the officers, so he was glad he was the one to respond. “When I got here earlier no one answered. I did a sweep of the area but wanted to check your house again.” He seemed to be visually scanning her for injuries. “You’re not hurt?”
“No, I’m okay. They got away, though, whoever broke in. Wyatt and I tried to chase them down, but...” She shrugged, as if to finish her sentence nonverbally.
Seth’s gaze swung to Wyatt, seeing him for the first time. His eyebrows rose. “What are you doing here?”
Suspicious because he was law enforcement and Wyatt had been first to the scene of a crime? Or was there something between him and Elsie? He couldn’t see the second working. Seth was a decent guy, nice, honest, honorable, the kind Elsie deserved. But somehow, Wyatt thought they would make a terrible couple.
“He heard on radio traffic and came to check on me.” She spoke up before he could, and while Wyatt didn’t feel like he wanted someone else fighting his battles for him, he appreciated the fact that Elsie was willing to stick up for him. And it helped to ease his mind a bit about her and Seth. If she was defending Wyatt, then chances were good she wasn’t falling for the other guy’s too-concerned demeanor.
“That so?”
“You accusing me of lying, Officer, or accusing Elsie?” He raised his eyebrows.
The other man didn’t justify Wyatt’s snark with a response, which he kind of appreciated. Instead he turned to Elsie.
“I’m going to send a team here to get fingerprints and see if any other material evidence was left behind.”
“No, you don’t have to do that,” Elsie said.
“Good idea,” Wyatt said over her. She turned to him and glared. He saw irritation and a warning to be quiet in her look.
“It’s procedure. After that, we can start a search for who it might have been and so on. It’s possible trace evidence was left that could help us identify—”
Elsie spoke up. “Do you have to investigate fingerprints and all of that if I don’t want you to?”
Wyatt looked at her in surprise, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Seth had done the same. Finally, something they could agree on.
“Why?” the officer asked.
Wyatt kept his mouth shut. Just watched Elsie. Waited. Kind of wanted to pray for her to make the right choice, but getting back onto speaking terms with God after all the ways he’d messed up his life in the years previous was harder than he’d thought it would be.
Would God even listen to him?
Help her, he finally tried, sending the plea heavenward as he waited for whatever she would say.
“Tonight was awful,” she started, looking away from both of them and reaching down to pet her dog, who had settled at her feet. “But I think it was an isolated incident. I don’t want more people in my house combing over it, analyzing things that may or may not help us find whoever was responsible. It was probably a crime of opportunity.”
Wyatt stared at her. That was the opposite of what she’d admitted to him earlier.
Seth apparently didn’t notice the tension in her jaw, the way she was avoiding both their eyes. He continued, trying to explain typical protocol. “Fingerprints and further investigation are what we always do.”
“Can I waive my right to those? Turn them down?”
The officer sighed and Wyatt felt it down to his soul. “Yes.”
“I’d like to do that.”
Elsie smiled at Seth. “Thank you so much for being ready to investigate.” She turned to Wyatt. “And thank you for risking your life for someone you’ve barely talked to in years. I appreciate it more than I can say.”
Her tone clearly communicated that she was ready for them both to leave. They were being politely dismissed. Seth Winters opened his mouth, then shook his head and started to the door, clearly sensing that this was a losing battle.
“Wyatt...” Elsie said. He had a feeling she was about to kick him out a little more directly. Probably because she didn’t want him to call her out for the inconsistency in her story.
Before she could say anything further, he asked, “I, uh, could I use your bathroom before I leave?”
“Sure. It’s that way.” She motioned down a small hallway off the living room. Wyatt walked that direction, despite the fact that he didn’t need it. What he needed was to kill a bit of time until the police officer left so he could talk to Elsie alone.
When he came back into the living room a minute later, she raised her eyebrows at him.
“Did you really just want to wait till he’d left?” The corners of her mouth were tugging into a smile.
Wyatt shrugged. “Maybe. Listen, let me help you, at least. I get it if you don’t want police involved. That would be intrusive. But you admitted earlier that this might not have been random, and the place the guy left his boat tells me the same. Let me help you.”
“And you wouldn’t be intrusive?”
“I’m the lesser of two evils.”
“Bet no one’s ever said that about you before.”
He jerked his head up, half-offended, and realized she was joking. Teasing.
Certainly not flirting?
He didn’t know how he’d begin to process that. Elsie was the last woman he’d expect to flirt with him, and despite the fact that she was gorgeous, he would never want just a fling with her. He wasn’t that guy anymore, the one who didn’t take anything seriously and knew what to say to get a woman interested for the short term.
Besides, he wanted her to know that he meant his offer of help.
Maybe, though, he had messed up too badly to ever change the way people thought about him.
THREE
If anyone would have appreciated a little intentional flirting to distract from a stressful night, Elsie would have thought it was Wyatt.
Instead he’d either ignored her lighthearted teasing or seemed almost offended, if the tightness in his jaw and around his eyes was any indication.
Huh. First coming here to help her, with no ulterior motive that she could discern. Now refusing to flirt back. She thought he flirted with every woman he met. Maybe she didn’t know Wyatt at all. At least, not this Wyatt. Maybe time had changed him, and why not? It was unfair to assume that he was the same person he’d been in high school.
“Hey,” she tried again, “I really appreciate your willingness to help. And like I said, I’m really thankful you came over, but...”
“Yeah, you don’t want to pursue it. And I’m probably the last person whose help you would want.”
No arguments there. But not because he’d been a player in high school. That had been years ago. It was that she didn’t know him, didn’t want him intruding in her life any more than she wanted a police officer prying. Keeping in mind how tense he’d seemed when she’d tried to flirt with him, she wanted to reassure him and explain herself. But Elsie didn’t lie, not even to spare people’s feelings, so she kept her mouth closed.
“I’m glad you’re safe.” Wyatt walked to the door, looked back at her once and stared at her with an intensity that burned and warmed her at the same time. “Please be careful. I’m worried about you, Elsie.”
And before she could respond, he opened the door and disappeared into the darkness.
Elsie blinked a few times, then locked the door behind him. She didn’t know how she’d wanted that odd encounter to end, and it was too late at night to figure out how she felt about any of this. For now, she’d send Lindsay a quick text letting her know she was okay, and tomorrow, she’d call her. Talking to her friend always helped her clarify what she was thinking and feeling. And right now the topic she was confused about her feelings on was...Wyatt.
Would that be weird, to talk to Lindsay about her brother? Just as soon as she wondered that, Elsie dismissed the concern. Lindsay would know she wasn’t thinking about Wyatt romantically.
Still on edge, Elsie checked the lock on the front door again. She could have sworn she had locked it before she’d gone to bed, but someone had broken in anyway. Still, it was funny how her desire to be in control dictated that she make sure the door was locked. She turned off the light, waited a second until her eyes adjusted and then walked through the small main area of the cabin, checking windows. All locked. She should be safe. Alone.
For once the idea of being alone didn’t appeal to her. She wondered, only briefly, what would have happened if she hadn’t all but chased Wyatt out. If she hadn’t refused to discuss his offer to help her. Would he have stayed for a while, maybe sat on the couch and had another cup of coffee, helped her wind down from the night? Just because he wasn’t the kind of man she would ever date—she could barely imagine what kind of man she would date—didn’t mean they couldn’t be friends.
Right?
She blew out a breath. He’d left, and it was her fault. She was alone in her cabin in the woods, with the lingering reminder of how many people had invaded this space tonight.
Which brought her back to her most-uninvited guest—the would-be...what? Abductor? Murderer?
What was his motive? She’d love to pretend it was a break-in gone wrong, that the intruder had made up threats that meant nothing. But she could find no evidence that anything had been stolen. She was forced to conclude that he’d been after her personally. The threatening words had been real and had likely tied to something in her past. Somehow.
She pulled the covers up to straighten them, then tugged them back and climbed into bed, thinking that Wyatt was more correct than he’d realized. She’d probably been in real danger. But at the same time, Elsie was convinced she was right, too—this had to be a onetime thing. She had no idea why anyone would come after her in the first place, much less attempt to do so again. Even if this whole thing was tied to her past, she wasn’t any kind of high-value target, wasn’t important or famous. Her photo and interview in the local paper was the closest to a claim to fame she had. And people didn’t abduct search and rescue workers in the happy aftermath of a successful rescue.
She thought again about his threatening words, the way he’d implied she was his target. That didn’t have to mean it would happen again. It couldn’t. And what if it wasn’t targeted at all? What if something like human trafficking was at play here? Then the threatening words had just been to frighten her, maybe subdue her into cooperating.
Ignoring the niggle in the back of her mind that said she was being too optimistic, and entirely too creative in her interpretation of what had happened, she tugged the covers up to her chin and called for Willow. The dog trotted easily into the bedroom and jumped with a grace Elsie envied up onto the bed. She settled herself down, her weight comforting to Elsie, who felt her breath ease and steady.
Was she entirely foolish to hope that she would wake up tomorrow to a normal life? And what did it say about her that human trafficking sounded less terrifying than other interpretations of her situation?
She’d rather face something awful like that than have this be related to her past in any way.
Almost without warning, she was cold, cold the way a three-year-old child would be if left in the elements of a rainy Alaskan summer day. She could feel beneath her hands the rock of the jagged ocean-side cliff where she’d taken shelter. Elsie could feel nothing else. No emotions, no sense of abandonment, anger or loss, just...nothing.
She’d seen counselors over the years, several of them because none had ever really stuck, and they’d had different explanations for her sense of emotional nothingness connected to her past. Elsie didn’t need to know why. She didn’t want to dig back into her old life at all.
If this situation required her to...
Wyatt was right—he was one of the last people she would want involved.
All through high school, she’d admired him from a safe distance. It was practically expected that she’d have at least a little bit of a crush on her best friend’s brother. And he’d always been unfairly attractive with his broad shoulders, sandy hair and easy smile. But she didn’t trust him.
Of course, the Wyatt of her memory had been selfish and never would have risked his own safety and comfort to come to her rescue in the middle of the night. Wyatt had done that tonight, so maybe Elsie didn’t know him. But that didn’t put him on the list of people she’d want to rehash her past with.
Telling him what she had tonight had been enough, even if her vague explanation of being in foster care wasn’t the same as the full truth.
She had no idea who she was. She’d been a Jane Doe as a toddler, unable to be reunited with her birth parents no matter how much people had tried.
All through high school, people had treated her like she was fragile because of her petite size and generally quiet and compliant disposition, but Wyatt had especially treated her like that. Instead of being one of the girls who was thought of as an adventurer, brave in her own right, people had treated Elsie like she might break. She’d spent her adult life proving that she was more capable than her size and delicate features made it seem. She knew she was capable. Strong. Tough.
But if she had to dive back into whatever had happened in her childhood, she didn’t know if she could keep being that person.
And she couldn’t stand to imagine investigating with Wyatt and maybe at some point seeing pity in his eyes. She didn’t want his pity.
Despite willing herself to go to sleep, she lay awake for hours. Anxiously wondering who could have been after her and why.
And remembering the flicker of hurt on Wyatt’s face when she’d all but sent him away when he’d only wanted to help her.
* * *
It was going to take some strong coffee for Wyatt to make it through this day on as little sleep as he’d gotten lately. He’d been overwhelmed his whole boat ride back to town, imagining Elsie alone in that little cabin, wondering who was after her and why, wishing he’d done things differently in his life so he could be the kind of man Elsie would trust.
It was basically a recipe for not sleeping when he’d gotten home and finally crawled into bed that first night. Sven hadn’t seemed to mind Wyatt’s sleeplessness. No matter how many times he rolled over, tugged the covers this way and that, the massive malamute had stayed asleep, his heavy body like the best kind of weighted blanket.
If only Wyatt had slept that well.
The next night hadn’t been much better. During the day he stayed busy enough, but when he tried to fall asleep at night he worried about Elsie. Wondered what it was that made her so hesitant to accept help from him or anyone else.
