Arctic Rescue
Author
Dana Mentink
Reads
17.4K
Chapters
39
ONE
The young reindeer nuzzled Katie Kapowski’s palm with velvet lips, pawing the ground uneasily as nighttime settled around them. The animal was too thin, with an Alaskan winter closing in.
“It’s okay, Sweetie. We’ll get your mama back.” Anger at Uncle Terrence burned in her stomach. The baby reindeer was suffering since Terrence had stolen his mother, Lulu, from the Family K Reindeer Ranch. At least the rest of the small herd had kept a close eye on Sweetie. Reindeer, above all else, were a family-oriented species. People should be so devoted.
Katie felt her own quiver of uncertainty at her return to the ranch. The job she’d left behind for a week pulled at her, assistant to Alaska K-9 Unit Colonel Lorenza Gallo and the group of elite state troopers along with their highly trained dogs. How hard she’d worked to get there. She was accustomed to the sleek Anchorage office, her multiple computer screens and a constant bustle of activity. But now she’d exchanged her stylish slacks and low heels for jeans and grimy work boots, auburn hair caught in a hurried ponytail. No professional polish required on a ranch near Palmer, Alaska, a town of barely seven thousand people, thirty-seven miles from the K-9 unit headquarters.
Goose bumps prickled along her neck. She whirled around. Nothing was there, only a twig borne by the autumn wind. The ranch was a broad sweep of flat pasture that lost itself into the neighbor’s forested property to the west. The Frontier River defined the eastern property line. Isolated and wild. The quiet made her jumpy. The older animals shifted, intricate antlers highlighted by the setting sun. Reindeer were the only members of the deer species where the females sported antlers as well as the males. “Girl power,” she whispered to a nearby female. “Wear those antlers proudly.”
Katie stroked the baby reindeer’s wiry fur in an effort to soothe them both. Was the animal also hearing noises? Or perhaps he was uneasy about the recent abduction. Three of the precious rescued animals had been stolen over the last few months. The Alaska K-9 team had recovered one, but Thunder, the male, and Sweetie’s mom, Lulu, were still missing. Katie’s worry grew every day that they were not found.
Why steal reindeer to get back at Aunt Addie? It was still so hard to believe the culprit was her own uncle. Katie hadn’t even known of Terrence’s existence until the K-9 team found DNA that proved the perpetrator was a relative. Aunt Addie had no choice then but to come clean about her estranged brother. Still, stealing reindeer to punish his sister for some perceived slight? Could someone really be so juvenile? None of it made any sense to Katie.
Oh, Aunt Addie. Why couldn’t you have told me sooner? she thought. Things with her aunt hadn’t exactly gone smoothly since Katie’s temporary return. Her aunt was still the same surly, stubborn woman who’d raised her from the age of ten, even less likely to filter her comments now that she was approaching sixty. Tact and finesse were unknown concepts in Addie’s world.
“No one tells me how to run my ranch,” she’d said. “I’m not changing a single thing, even if my brother has turned up to harass me. He’s a cruel-hearted louse. Always has been.”
Addie was doubly stressed with Terrence bent on not only ruining the ranch but also sabotaging the annual Christmas Fair looming in two months. So, yes, Katie knew her aunt had good reason to be short-tempered. But it didn’t help that her outbursts had caused both her regular ranch hands to quit. Blaze was no loss, since he’d been stealing petty cash, but Gary had been a steady worker who’d endured one tongue-lashing too many from Addie. Now, with virtually no help, two hundred and fifty acres of Alaskan wilderness and a herd of twenty-three rescued reindeer to tend to, things were getting downright desperate.
Which meant, whether her aunt wanted to admit it or not, she needed Katie’s help. Perhaps she could set a few things in order during her week away from the office without a major blowup with Aunt Addie.
A leaf scuffled over the top of her muddy boots, startling her. Her sideways movement subsequently alarmed Sweetie, who edged back to the comfort of his reindeer sisters.
Relax, Katie, she told herself. Addie was back at the main house. Law enforcement drove by on regular checks of the property, including Trooper Brayden Ford. An image of him popped into her mind along with the ever-present tension. Ridiculous. It didn’t matter now that he’d almost cost her a position with the Alaska K-9 Unit in their Anchorage office. And, certainly, he must know she had not meant to humiliate him when she told him the truth about his girlfriend Jamie, though it proved mortifying. Water under the proverbial bridge, right? Still, she wished it was anyone but him patrolling her aunt’s ranch at the moment.
Her eyes drifted upward. The October moon hung low in the inky sky and she sighed appreciatively as she breathed in the cold, scented with the musk of the animals gathered in the pasture pen and the meager remnants of the willow leaves they’d finished devouring. The lighter fur of their chests glimmered against the darkness. So quiet here, so peaceful, except for the ever-present drone of the mosquitoes. Nights like these made it hard to imagine why anybody, even Addie’s disgruntled brother, would want to harm the ranch.
Why such covetousness over a place that existed purely to care for rescued reindeer? The ranch barely covered expenses, let alone made a profit. Not exactly a money factory. She said a quiet good-night to the animals. The gate squealed as she closed and secured the holding pen.
Something snapped in the distance. She tensed.
If Terrence was still bent on ruining the Family K, maybe he wasn’t deterred by the trooper’s attention. But the noise could have been anything, a rock tumbling from the bank into the Frontier River, a moose foraging for a snack, an elk, a bear... It was certainly not her uncle. She would spot him coming from way off since there was no cover to speak of.
Her phone pinged with an incoming call. Startled, she thumbed it on. “Hello?”
“It’s really dark out here.” The voice was a deep baritone.
She swatted a mosquito trying to settle on her windbreaker. “Very.” Picturing Brayden and his big Newfoundland dog, Ella, made her sag with relief. She was grateful he had not witnessed her panicky behavior. It probably made her seem even more like a kid than the freckles splashed across her nose. And she certainly didn’t want to give him any more reason to think her less than competent.
“Finishing up my security check,” he said. “Everything’s okay except Ella ate the bologna sandwich I was saving for dinner.”
She could not restrain a smile. Ella, his highly trained underwater search-and-rescue canine, was a menace to all unsecured food items. She was grateful that Brayden and the other K-9 team members had been trying to help unearth the ranch saboteur. They had plenty on their hands already, including hunting down the murderous groom and best man who had framed the would-be bride, Violet James, who was currently in hiding to protect her unborn baby. With such an important case to tend to, she was doubly grateful that Brayden was checking up occasionally. Still, it would be easier if it was another officer, any other officer. Maybe she wouldn’t feel so hesitant around someone else. There was just too much distrust between them. Still, though, the man needed a meal, and as Katie’s mother used to say, “Anyone in my vicinity won’t leave hungry unless they want to.”
“Sorry about your dinner, Brayden. If you come by the main house, I’ll fix you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”
He sighed. “I guess I can’t hope for bologna from a vegetarian.”
“No, but I can offer some amazing tofu if you’d rather, with garlic and spices. You won’t even miss the meat.” She could not resist the gibe.
“I’ll stick with the PB and J.”
She was about to respond when several of the reindeer twitched, then bolted to the far side of the pen to huddle together. All of them were stiff with anxiety, ears pricked. They’d heard something she hadn’t. But how could she explain it to Brayden without sounding like a scared kid? Bad enough she was twenty-four to his thirty-two and the one who had thrown the spotlight on his fickle girlfriend. It was not the time to add paranoia to that list. She must have remained silent for a beat too long.
“What’s wrong, Katie?” he asked, suddenly stone-cold serious.
“I’m not sure. I’m near the pasture pen. I thought I heard something...” But there was nothing in the moonlight except the sprawling flatland, stubbled with wild grasses and the occasional clump of fireweed. “It’s quiet now. It must have been my imagination.”
He was all business now. “I’m driving down the river access road. I’ll meet you at the gate.”
“But there’s probably no reason to—” Her sentence was cut short by distant shouting, followed by a shrill scream.
“The dock,” she blurted into the phone. “It’s Aunt Addie!”
“I’m on my way.”
She kept the connection active, racing out of the pasture gate and securing the complicated latch system behind her with shaking fingers. Addie had been working on her computer in the main house not a half hour ago. Yet the scream had originated from the dock that jutted over the Frontier River. Had her aunt been out for a walk and fallen? Or was it something more sinister?
Katie’s feet pounded as she charged across the grass and over the dirt access road, avoiding the mud as best she could. No sign of Brayden’s vehicle yet. Another scream.
She shouted into the phone, “Addie’s in trouble, Brayden. Help!”
Not waiting for an answer, she raced on. Grit from the road ground under the soles of her mud boots. The dock finally came into sight. She caught her aunt’s silhouette, the sheen of her silvered brown hair glinting in the gloom. One slender arm was outstretched as if she was trying to ward off a blow, but there wasn’t anyone else there, as far as Katie could see. She thought she heard a pop over the roar of the water. A gunshot? Addie jerked as if she’d been struck and toppled backward off the dock.
Instinct overrode all other inputs. Heedless of anything except saving her aunt, Katie made it to the edge in three strides and dived in feetfirst. She had grown up on the ranch since her parents were killed. She knew every inch of the place, especially the riverbed. This offshoot of the Frontier River that branched and meandered shallowly in most places was deep near the dock.
And frigid with snowmelt from the surrounding Chugach Mountains no matter what the season.
On impact, the freezing water stripped her of breath and turned her muscles into knots as she sank. The heavy boots she’d been wearing immediately filled with water and became anchors that dragged her toward the bottom. Why hadn’t she thought to shake them off before she’d jumped in?
Gasping in shock, she fought off momentary paralysis. She freed her feet from the boots, kicked hard and propelled herself to the surface. Dashing the water from her eyes, she turned in a tight circle. There was no sign of her aunt anywhere. Nor was there anyone else. Had she imagined the gunshot? Panic roiled through her. Addie was tough as nails but she was small-framed, like Katie, and had been recovering from bronchitis, which had sapped her normal energy. The river could suck her away and snuff out her life in a matter of moments.
“Aunt Addie!” she shouted, treading water. Her arms were already numb and she was beginning to lose feeling in her legs. Flying insects danced across the choppy surface as the dark eddies of water rolled and curled over themselves. She felt a presence on the dock. Hope sparked inside her... It must be Brayden and Ella. She opened her mouth to call out to them until she realized her grave mistake.
It wasn’t Brayden. A figure stepped clear of the shadows for the first time. She recognized the body type, long and lean, the slightly bowlegged stance so like her aunt’s.
Her long-lost uncle, Terrence Kapowski.
Then her brain registered the other fact. He was holding a gun.
The sound she’d heard had indeed been a bullet, aimed at her aunt.
“Uncle Terrence,” she yelled. “I’m Katie, your niece. Please...” Her request trailed off.
Terrence’s expression was blank in the eerie light, but his steady grip on the pistol did not waver.
It was dreamlike, her uncle standing there against the pewter sky, the gun pointed at her, a small and deadly circle of gray. She saw more of the family resemblance visible in the determined line of his jaw, the narrow chin so like her aunt’s.
So like her own.
“Uncle Terrence,” she shouted again.
He cocked his head as if the sound of his name confused him. “You think you’re going to get it?”
“Get what?” she asked, teeth chattering.
“The ranch. You can’t have it. Not Addie, not you. I’m their only son.”
“No one wants to take anything from you,” she tried telling him.
“And no one will.” He took a step closer. “I’ll see you both dead first.”
Her brain could still hardly process the facts. Terrence had been trying to kill Addie, who was now lost in the water, perhaps already dead.
Now he meant to do the same to her.
She watched helplessly as he took aim, ready for the kill.
Brayden was out of the vehicle and running for the dock. Ella lumbered after him, black fur blending with the gloom as the last remnants of sunlight surrendered. There was a man on the dock whom he recognized from the photos. Terrence Kapowski. Terrence immediately sprinted for the bushes.
“State trooper,” Brayden shouted. “Stop or I’ll shoot.” The man skidded down the bank, vanishing into the darkness. Ella barked furiously, her deep woof echoing across the water.
“Brayden!” The scream was barely audible over Ella’s racket and the sound of the rushing water.
He raced to the edge of the dock. Frantically he scanned the river for any sign of Katie or Addie. “Katie,” he thundered. “Where are you?”
Katie’s head bobbed up to the surface, her face a pale glimmer in the tumult. “My aunt’s been shot.”
Again he scanned behind him, under the dock, along the bank. Had Terrence found a hiding place, waiting to unleash more gunfire? Control the shooter or get the women out of the water? Muttering a prayer that he was making the right choice, he stripped off his gun belt and cell phone. Ella was already dancing in eagerness on the edge of the dock.
“Find,” he told her. She would normally do her job from the bank or the deck of a boat, but nothing about this was normal. Addie, he prayed, was still alive. If she was, Ella would find her. The K-9 charged off the edge of the dock, cannonballing into the river. Brayden followed suit.
The cold slammed into him as he hit the surface feetfirst. He swam immediately to Katie.
“I’m okay,” she said, waving him off. “We have to find Addie.”
But she was shuddering with cold, her lips dark, which meant the onset of hypothermia could be moments away. He grasped her forearm. “Get out of the water. Ella will locate Addie.”
She ignored him. “I know this river. It will carry her toward the far bank. She’s unconscious. We don’t have time.” She pulled away and swam farther out.
“Katie,” he started.
“I have to find her.” Katie’s tone was laced with panic.
A splash from several feet away jerked their attention. He exhaled in relief. Ella had indeed found Addie. “Good girl, El. Bring her to shore.”
Wasted breath. Ella knew what to do. She always did.
Katie started toward her aunt, but Brayden stopped her. “Trust the dog. We need to get you out right away.”
Addie was floating on her back, eyes closed. Ella grabbed her by her shirt collar and began towing her toward the bank. Addie’s weight was no match for the muscular Newfie. The dog’s webbed paws cleaved the water effortlessly. He turned his attention back to Katie, but her eyes were riveted to her aunt. Before he could offer any assistance, she was swimming hard toward shore.
He followed suit, scanning for any sign that Terrence might still be lying in wait. He’d radioed for an ambulance and his fellow troopers as soon as he’d heard the first gunshot. Two were close by—they’d already be en route along with the local cops—but it would take a good thirty minutes for anyone else to get there from their Anchorage base. The ambulance would arrive much sooner, he hoped.
Brayden slogged out of the water at the graveled portion of the bank where Ella had deposited Addie and begun to lick her face. Katie dropped to her knees and put her cheek next to her aunt’s mouth.
The look she turned on Brayden made his stomach drop.
“She’s not breathing,” Katie whispered.
“Ella, watch,” he said. The big dog shook the water from her thick coat and sat up, nose twitching as she sampled the air. She was not an attack dog, but if Terrence tried to get close again, Brayden felt confident she would alert him with a bark. It was that same bark that proved maddening at three in the morning, but now he was grateful for it.
Katie had already started rescue breathing, thanks to the training Colonel Gallo insisted every member of the department receive. He took over. “Try to find the bullet wound and stop the bleeding.”
After a quick exam, Katie stripped off her jacket and pressed it to her aunt’s shoulder.
He clasped his hands together and began to administer compressions, alternating with respirations.
After several cycles, they stopped to assess. Addie remained cold and lifeless.
“Come on, come on,” he whispered. “Breathe.”
Were they going to lose her? Katie’s distraught expression told him she was entertaining the same horrible thought.
He started in on another round of CPR.
But Addie’s chest remained still as the Alaskan night.
“Aunt Addie,” Katie entreated. “Please don’t leave me.”
He added his silent plea to hers as he launched into more compressions.
