Race Against Time (31 page)

But I couldn’t tell anyone about the notes . . .

I sighed. Too many “ifs.” Too many “maybes.” Not enough assurance.

I grabbed onto Sasha’s collar.

I had to leave. But when? How could I without anyone finding me? I didn’t want to be alone. I could bring the dogs. But someone would hear me. Or see me leaving.

At night?

No. I didn’t want to be out in the dark. By myself. With murderers spying on me.

That realization hurt.

I was going to die. No matter what. Those men watched me. Probably all the time. How could I run away without Mom or those men finding out?

I couldn’t.

My eyes closed. No. I wouldn’t think about it. Just leave and get it over with.

Leave tonight.

Cole smiled as he got the macrochip out from Mint’s neck. “Good girl. It’s okay.”

He passed the chip to Auntie Jenna.

I hoped night would come soon.

If I got murdered, I got murdered.

But I had to save Mom. And I had to do it soon.

ANESIA

2:58 p.m.

The kennel was in an uproar. Cole had pulled more than thirty chips out of her dogs already.

Anesia soothed and petted each of her dogs as they waited for the vet. Who on earth had done this? And why? More than that, why’d they choose
her
dogs?

Since the chip they already found on her property held part of the AMI programming, she could guess what was on the other chips. Would they accuse her of being involved? Was she in danger of being arrested?

What would happen to Zoya?

The stress over the murder and shooting hadn’t left her system yet, even though they’d caught the shooter. And now this. What happened to her quiet little world?

Sean jogged over to her. “Cole wanted you to know that the FBI are on their way over.”

“Great.”

“What?”

“Oh, nothing. I’m sorry, Sean. I’m just a little sick of all this. Who implants sprint racing dogs with chips that have top secret military programming?” She shook her head and walked toward another litter.

Sean followed. “It’s ingenious, really.”

“What?” She shot a look over her shoulder. Whose side was he on anyway?

“Implanting the chips.”

“Sean Connolly”—she thrust her hands onto her hips—“what on earth are you talking about?”

“Whoever did this. I’m not saying what they did was right, but think about it. Placing invaluable information that they don’t want anyone else to find on macrochips, encasing them in plastic, and implanting them in your dogs.”

She threw another heated look his way.

“They did their research. They knew how well you took care of your dogs. Knew how much they meant to you. What lengths you would go to making sure nothing happened to them.”

She whirled on him then. “So you’re saying I should take it as a compliment that they chose my kennel of dogs? Is that what you’re saying?” She knew she was being ridiculous, but the whole thing burned her up. She had to take out her temper on someone. Sean happened to be the unlucky recipient.

His eyes grew wide. “Hey, I’m sorry.”

Her rage evaporated. “No, Sean. I’m sorry.” She glanced at his eyes before moving toward another dog. “I just don’t get it. First the murder. Then the shooting here. Now this! Has everyone gone insane?”

“Anesia!” Cole’s voice came from across the kennel, halting Sean’s response.

He followed her over to Cole and the FBI agent who’d arrived. Her friend’s calm, quiet presence soothed the edge of her nerves, even though she still wanted to throttle someone.

The agent studied her. “Ms. Naltsiine. Sorry we have to meet again under these circumstances.” The man didn’t even shake her hand, just started writing on his notepad. “I need to know who has access to your dogs.”

“Well, other than Zoya, Jenna, and Andie? No one except my employees. Sean”—she pointed beside her—“Joe, he’s over there by Jenna, and Derek. It’s his day off today.”

“Ever had any trouble from any of them?”

“No. I trust my employees.”

“But who else would know the code to your gate?”

“No one, but—”

“Then this is where we’ll start—”

“Excuse me”—Anesia tugged on the agent’s arm—“are you saying that my employees are all suspects?”

The agent lowered his notepad. Looked through her. “Not suspect, but certainly persons of interest. As is anyone who has contact with these dogs.”

She glared back.

“Would you happen to have any veterinary equipment around here, Ms. Naltsiine?” His eyes bore into hers.

“Well, of course, it’s a dog ken—”

“Any handheld scanners?”

“Excuse me?”

“The kind that trace those pet-finder chips.”

She crossed her arms. Planted her feet for battle. “Exactly what are you implying?”

“Just answer the question, please.”

Fine. He wanted to play
that
way. “No.”

He scribbled something on his infernal pad and slapped it closed. “That’s all for right now.” As he turned and walked away, his message was clear.

She was as much a suspect as anyone.

SLIM

February 2

5:00 p.m.

The drop-off was set.

In three day’s time, he’d be a rich man.

Money. Control. Power. Everything he’d ever dreamed of.

In three short days.

He hopped up from his computer. Lots to do. He’d need a new suit. He’d need to purchase his ticket.

And he’d need to get all the chips.

He rubbed his hands together. Excitement built up inside him. Ma would be proud.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

ZOYA

February 3

Naltsiine Kennels

2:00 a.m.

Darkness surrounded me as I made my way down the stairs. My hand slid across the wall and my feet felt the shape of each step.

It’d been such a long day. The FBI and police all left, except for one officer posted out in the driveway. Auntie Jenna, Cole, and Andie all went home after the vet left. Andie didn’t want to go. She stuck to my side like glue since I gave her the note in the restaurant, but she had a neurologist appointment in the morning.

Good thing, or she might have stayed.

I shivered.
This is the right thing to do . . .

Mom would sleep like a rock. At least that was in my favor.

I took another step. I couldn’t turn on a light. It might wake her. But if I fell down the steps . . .

Thoughts swirled and twirled inside me. What if I was doing the wrong thing? What if those men came after Mom anyway?

I shook my head.

Stop it, Zoya. Just go. Don’t even think about Mom, she’ll be fine. Sean will take care of her. Cole will take care of her. The dogs will take care of her.

I made it to the kitchen. The moon shone through the open curtains. At least I wasn’t in total darkness.

Sasha jumped up and ran over to me, tail wagging.

I patted her head and some of my fear melted away.
This is the right thing to do . . .

She nudged my leg as if she understood. But how could she? She didn’t have to worry about murderers. She didn’t have to worry about secret, threatening notes.

My throat closed. Was I sure I wanted to do this?

Yes. Besides, what choice do I have?

I pushed the voice away and slid my backpack off. Then filled it with the things I’d gathered: Water bottles. Food. An extra pair of gloves. Four layers already covered my body, but even with a heavy coat, I knew, in such cold temperatures, it might not be enough. Would we make it?

“Come on, Sasha.” I slipped my arms through the backpack straps, then crept over to the back door. I disabled the alarm. Hopefully Mom wouldn’t wake up from the beeping.
“Hurry . . . Hurry . . .”

The voice was getting irritating.

The door creaked as I eased it open. Sasha whined. Would someone try to break in while I was gone? The alarm wouldn’t sound . . . would Mom be safe?

Yes. I would be gone, and the men probably knew that.
I don’t think they’ll try to get inside. Will they?
“Sasha, we have to do this.”

She obeyed. But worry flashed in her eyes. Again.

Who cared what happened? Just so long as Mom was safe. And Sasha could take of herself, she wouldn’t get hurt.

I nodded. Then we slipped out the back door.

More darkness.

Few stars shone in the sky. Very
yanlaey
. Was it going to storm?

My stomach knotted.

This is the right thing to do . . .

A strong breeze swirled among the trees. Snow fell. I shivered and rubbed my arms. Lowering my goggles and raising my neck and face warmer, I prepared for the long night ahead.

I was already feeling the chill, even through the heavy coat I wore. Before I left, the thermometer read sixty below. So cold . . .

A twig snapped.

My head shot up. Was someone watching me? Was that a gun?

I turned to glance at the bushes. Strange sounds echoed around me, stirring an odd feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Was there someone out there?

What if something happened?

Was this the right thing to do?

I could feel my fingers digging into the flesh of my palm. Should I go back into the house?

No. Mom would be safer this way.

I ran over to the barn and grabbed my sled. I hid it on the other side and stretched out the harnesses. The cold kept most of the dogs in their houses, so after entering the code into the gate, it was easy to grab the closest dogs. Moose, Puffin, Bear, and Eagle wagged their tails at my approach.

“We’re going on a little trip.”
At least you guys haven’t raced yet.
But what if the Alaska Wildlife Litter were fast and we didn’t even know it? They’d begun their training. Would it be a loss to Mom? Would she be angry that I took the newest litter?

I shook my head. How could I be thinking things like that? It didn’t matter who I took. Just so long as I left.

Soon the dogs were in their harnesses, ready to go. Jumping around giving me their barks of excitement. “Shh!” I grabbed the lead dog’s harness and walked them to the edge of the trail. A glance back at my home showed no lights. Sean’s cabin was all quiet as well.

I hoped he wouldn’t wake up. Just a little farther. But Puffin whined. She wanted to run.

“Shhhh! Puffin, be quiet. We can’t wake anybody up.”

She shied away and whimpered. My heart broke. “I’m sorry. I’m just stressed right now. It’ll be okay.”
I
hope
. I patted her head, then climbed onto the sled.

“All right.” Even though I whispered the command, the dogs took off running.

Maybe, by some miracle, Mom wouldn’t know I’d left until morning.

I’d need to find a place to stay. A warm place. A place where no one could find me. But where? How far would the dogs be able to go at this time of night? Would they get tired faster?

The dogs ran, wagging their tails. Maybe they thought this was just a practice run.

That was good . . . but then again, if for some odd reason I flew off, they’d go right back to the house. Then I’d get caught.

At least I had Sasha. She ran beside the sled. Soon she’d need to ride on it though. She couldn’t run all the way to . . . wherever I was going.

Everything in me wanted to turn back. But I couldn’t. I had to keep going. To keep Mom safe. Sean could take care of her.

Keep going . . .

A large cloud passed over head, covering the light of the moon. My gaze shot from one place to another. Everything darkened until it was almost pitch black.

I shivered. Would it snow? That would cover up our tracks, but how far could we get before the storm hit? Or before it got so bad that we wouldn’t be able to go farther? What would I do then? What if we froze to death? Was I endangering the dogs? And if those murderers came, would they harm them?

Stop it.
I just had to keep going. No matter what.

I focused on the dogs, on the ground in front of them, but I couldn’t keep out other thoughts. Words drifted through my memory. The things Sean had said to Andie. . .

God, is that true? Is that why I haven’t felt You close?
Was I just so angry that I couldn’t hear Him? Was I not listening?

“Be still and know that I am God.”

But what if He wasn’t there? Why was all this stuff happening to me?

Lord,
are
You here?

“He will never leave you nor forsake you.”
Was that true? The Bible was supposed to be right . . . most of the time it was.

No . . . all the time.

But what if He let me get murdered? What if He didn’t watch over me?

“When he falls, he will not be hurled headlong, for the LORD is the One who holds his hand.”

God, is that You talking to me? Or is it just the words I’ve memorized for so long?

Did He hold my hand? Had He been there the entire time?

No. How could He?

I just needed to keep going . . .

“
Don’t listen to Him. You don’t need Him.”

My fingers and toes lost all feeling.

Keep going . . .

The dogs panted. They couldn’t be tired already, could they?

Snowflakes started to fall.

Keep going . . . keep going . . .

Please, keep going
.

RICK

February 3

Anchorage, Alaska

4:30 a.m.

He dialed the number into his cell and hit SEND.

The receiver was lifted and then dropped. Probably on the floor. A muffled curse. “Yeah?”

“I’ve got a job for you.”

Shuffling and more rustling. “Target?”

“Teen girl.”

“Fifty thousand.”

“Understood. But let’s get a few things clear.”

“I’m listening.”

“We’ve already had a failure. So, before you even make a move, I have to approve the plan. Every detail.”

“Then it’s up to sixty.”

“Fine. But let me remind you. Every. Detail. You cannot make a move without the go-ahead.”