Dashing Through the Snow (15 page)

As time progressed, Ashley grew worried. If the authorities detained him, he might miss his interview. She couldn't think about that. She could only hope that he'd be released soon so he could get to Seattle on time.

After what seemed like endless hours, Ashley lost track of how long she'd been left alone in the room. She suspected it was late into the afternoon when Agent Wilkes stepped in, holding a pad and pen just the way Gibbs did in
NCIS.

He pulled out the chair, causing the legs to make a scraping sound against the concrete floor. This was probably an intimidation tactic.

Ashley resisted telling him she was onto his game. Instead, she smiled calmly, letting him know she wasn't the least bit nervous. Eventually, Agent Wilkes would be forced to admit he was in the wrong. Leaning back in her chair, she stretched out her arms and clasped her hands together on top of the table.

She waited for him to speak first. He didn't. Instead, he made an elaborate show of taking off his watch and setting it on the table. Apparently, he was timing her answers.

When he spoke his voice was curt. “Name.”

“That which is usually given to a child at birth,” she replied, saying the first thing that came to mind.

He was not amused. “What is your name?”

“It's on my driver's license in my purse, which you have confiscated.”

“Humor me. What is your name?”

“Ashley Gene Davison.”

He cracked a smile as if he'd caught her in a lie.

“And that's Gene with a
G
rather than a
J.
” This small detail had caused her untold troubles since the time she started school.

“Isn't that rather unusual?”

She was convinced that the more the agent got her to talk, the more likely she was to make a mistake.

Ashley hesitated, unsure it was wise to explain herself. “My middle name is spelled
G-E-N-E.
I was supposed to be a boy and my dad promised my uncle he would name his baby after him, so it's spelled in the masculine form.”

Wilkes made a notation on the tablet, but it was clear he didn't believe her.

“Your home address.”

“Seattle or California?”

“Either.”

She complied with both. “Can I ask you a question?”

He glanced up from the tablet but didn't answer.

“Where are Dash and Little Blade? Dash has an important interview this afternoon. He needs to be in Seattle. Can you make that happen?”

“Your hostage is being debriefed.”

“Debriefed?” she repeated, and then half rose from the table as his words connected with her brain. “My hostage?”

“Are you people out of your minds?” Dash demanded, glaring across the table at Wilkes. “How many times do I have to tell you I am not a hostage.”

Wilkes didn't respond. Agent Buckley was on the other side of the two-way mirror, taking in Wilkes's interviewing techniques. The young agent had a lot to learn, but he was coming along nicely.

Wilkes didn't feel the need to respond to Sutherland's question. He actually felt sorry for Dashiell Sutherland. The man didn't have a clue of the danger he'd been in, nor did he realize he'd been a pawn for one of the deadliest criminals on the FBI Most Wanted list.

After interviewing Ashley Davison for nearly two frustrating hours, he'd set about getting the information he needed from Sutherland.

Wilkes remained undaunted. Davison had adamantly insisted she wasn't the woman he sought. He had to admit she sounded believable, which only went to prove how good she was. She came off as sincere and honest. A less-experienced agent might be tempted to believe her.

It was only a matter of time before she cracked, and crack she would, but it would take diligence and expertise for that. Wilkes felt equal to the challenge.

“Can you explain again about the loss of your phone?” Wilkes asked, ever patient and in control.

“Losing my phone was an accident,” Sutherland insisted. “I put it inside my coat pocket and then tossed it into the backseat. As best I can figure, that's when it fell out of the car.”

“Were you distracted?”

“What do you mean by
distracted
?” The other man's eyes narrowed with the question.

Wilkes explained, “Did Ms. Davison do anything to avert your attention?”

“No,” he returned, with more than a hint of defiance. “Would you listen to me? Losing the phone was an accident.”

“Did she flirt with you?”

“When?”

“When you put your coat in the car,” Wilkes asked.

“Hardly,” Sutherland said, and then smiled. His look had been angry and defensive just seconds earlier, and the sudden transformation came as a shock.

“You find that humorous?”

“Actually, I do. Ashley was convinced she couldn't trust me. It was only after she spoke with my mother and got reassurances that I wasn't a serial killer that she even agreed to share the car with me. Trust me, there was no flirting from either one of us. I was annoyed by her—she was annoyed by me.”

Again, Wilkes had to admit that the woman was brilliant. She'd managed to kidnap this man—a former army intelligence officer, no less—and convinced him that she was nothing more than a starving grad student. She even had him believing she was headed to Seattle for Christmas with her widowed mother. He grudgingly had to admire such talent.

“What can you tell me about the dog?”

“What's there to tell that I haven't already explained to the other officer? The puppies were abandoned at the rest stop. Ashley decided to rescue one and give it to her mother as a Christmas gift.”

“And you believed her?”

“Is there a reason I shouldn't?”

Wilkes saw no need to answer. The poor guy was delusional. Wilkes actually felt sorry for him. He'd been duped by a master.

“Okay,” Sutherland said with exaggerated patience. “I left Ashley in the rest stop parking lot. If she was a criminal mastermind, the way you claim, do you seriously think she would have let me drive off?” He held his hands palms up, as if to say what Wilkes had suggested was utter nonsense.

And it was true, Ashley Davison had taken a gamble, letting Sutherland voluntarily leave. But by that time she'd managed to play on Dash Sutherland's generous nature. She'd been able to convince him that returning to the rest stop for her and the dog was all his idea. Wilkes still didn't know how the puppy played into this scenario, but he'd find out eventually. The dog was a sweet one, and it curdled his stomach to imagine what twisted plan this evil woman had set in motion.

Wilkes studied Sutherland sitting across from him and asked what should have been obvious: “Did you ever consider the fact that she knew you'd eventually return for her and the puppy?”

“How could she?” Dash asked defiantly. “I didn't know it. I had no intention of turning around until my conscience demanded that I not leave her. She would have been stuck there. Listen,” he continued, forcefully expelling his breath in an apparent effort to control his temper. “I spent the last four years in army intelligence. I'm a good judge of character, and I'm telling you this woman is no criminal mastermind.”

Wilkes appreciated the other man's sincerity, but clearly Sutherland didn't have a clue.

“What about the license plates—”

“Some kids were responsible for that,” the other man broke in. “We actually spoke to them, although we didn't realize what they'd done at the time.”

“You say she couldn't have arranged switching license plates in advance?”

“How could she?” He tossed his hands up in what looked like abject frustration.

“You were together every minute?” Wilkes didn't know how she'd done it, but she had arranged the switch. There could be no question that she'd somehow set it up in advance.

“Ash and I were together almost every minute.”

That was all Wilkes needed to know. “Are you saying that it's out of the realm of possibility that she orchestrated it beforehand?”

“Yes. For you to even suggest it tells me you don't know what you're talking about. Ashley had no idea where we were going to stop or how long we'd be inside the building.”

“She could have had you followed.”

“That's a possibility,” he conceded, sitting back and crossing his arms over his chest. At last Wilkes was getting somewhere. As with most interrogations, the suspect had started to crack. Wilkes had actually thought it would take longer, seeing that Sutherland had been in the military.

“You're right,” Sutherland said. “It is possible, but it didn't happen. You have the wrong woman.”

So breaking Dash Sutherland wasn't going to be nearly as easy as Wilkes had hoped. With a flash of insight, he understood why.

“You're falling in love with her, aren't you?”

Sutherland jerked his head up and pinched his lips together.

Wilkes thought so.

“She's got you wrapped around her little finger. That didn't take long, did it? She batted her eyelashes at you and within a matter of hours you were under her control.”

Sutherland's eyes held fire as he glared back at him.

“You were her pawn and you fell neatly into that role.”

Dash jumped to his feet. “You're full of it, Agent Wilkes. Ashley is no more a criminal mastermind than I am. She's a graduate student and a wonderful, caring woman who loves her family. You are so off base it sickens me.”

Wilkes had thought to anger the other man and Sutherland had taken the bait. Wilkes had gotten the reaction he'd hoped to achieve.

“So you are in love with her.”

“My feelings for Ashley don't come into play here.”

“You're wrong,” Wilkes said, coming to his feet as well. “Sit down, Sutherland.” He waited until the other man reclaimed his seat, and then Wilkes left the room.

Agent Buckley met him on the other side of the door. “Sutherland is clearly convinced we have the wrong woman,” he said, and from the way he said it, Wilkes thought the junior agent agreed.

“I have two words for you,” Wilkes said: “Stockholm syndrome.”

“What?”

“The term comes from an incident that happened back in the seventies, when bank robbers held hostages for several days. By the time they were rescued, the hostages were fighting the police in order to protect the robbers. In the end, one of the women actually became engaged to one of the men. And don't forget Patty Hearst.”

“I know what Stockholm syndrome is. Do you really think Dashiell Sutherland is suffering from it?”

“He clearly has deep feelings for her.” Wilkes decided to test his theory. “Let me try something.”

“Okay.”

Wilkes returned to the other room. Sutherland regarded him with brooding eyes.

“I believe you've answered all our questions, Mr. Sutherland. You're free to go.”

Sutherland shook his head. “I'm not leaving here without Ashley and the puppy. Then and only then will I leave this building.”

Wilkes smiled. The other man's response told him everything he needed to know.

Ashley had been awake all night and was at the point of mental and physical exhaustion. Even now, she couldn't understand how she'd managed to walk into this nightmare. Nothing made sense. And worse, no matter how adamantly she'd declared her innocence, she hadn't been able to convince Agent Wilkes that she wasn't the dangerous felon on the FBI's Most Wanted list. By the time morning, or what she assumed was morning, had rolled around, she was dopey and distraught.

She was alone now. She'd asked about Dash and Little Blade several times, but no one would volunteer any information. She had to assume the puppy was also in a holding cell. She prayed that Dash had been released and had left for Seattle in enough time to make his interview. It was difficult to keep her spirits up and not dissolve into tears. This had to be the worst Christmas of her life. And now—and this was even worse—no one was talking to her. Alone in a cell, she had nothing to do but dwell on the injustice of it all.

Ashley laid her head down on the bed and closed her eyes, only to hear the outer door open. When she looked up she saw Agent Buckley. She liked him better than the older agent, who kept insisting she wasn't a grad student but a despicable felon intent on terrorist activity.

“How are you holding up?” Buckley asked.

Her eyes had blurred from lack of sleep. “Okay, I guess.” But she wasn't okay. She was sad and miserable, and she wanted her mother.

“Well, I have news that should cheer you up,” Agent Buckley said, offering her a smile. “You're free to go.”

Ashley leaped off the bed as if someone had lit it on fire. She rushed to the door. “You believe me? You know who I really am? What happened to change your mind?”

“It only took a few minutes to verify your story. Unfortunately, Agent Wilkes refused to believe it.”

“Is that the commotion I heard?” At one point, Ashley had heard arguing, lots of arguing. The loudest voice seemed to be Agent Wilkes's. He'd kept insisting he knew what he was doing and warning the others not to be fooled. Ashley had been afraid to hope that his colleagues were unconvinced.

“I'm afraid Agent Wilkes had something of a mental collapse. He'll be taking a leave of absence from the bureau.”

Ashley supposed if she were a better person she'd feel sorry about that. But after this ordeal that might have even cost Dash a possible job, she couldn't pretend she did.

“We have confirmation that the Ashley Davison we want is in Mexico.”

“That's good to know.”

“All your personal items will be returned to you in short order.”

“Thank you,” Ashley said, doing her best to smile. Her biggest concerns—well, other than Dash and the puppy—were her purse and coat. “What about Little Blade?”

The agent escorted her past a long line of locked cell doors. “I believe the puppy is currently with Mr. Sutherland.”

“Oh.” She did her best to hold back the urge to weep. That meant she was truly alone now. Dash had Little Blade with him, and the two were on their way to Seattle. Worrying about the puppy was only a small part of her problem, however. Ashley was stuck in Eugene, Oregon, with no way of getting to Seattle.

Being led to the front of the building, it didn't take long for her to sign off on her personal items. Once she had her coat and purse, she was released into a foyer. With her head hanging low, and holding back tears, she stepped into the room. The first thing she noticed was that it was snowing again, giant flakes coming down outside the lobby windows. She turned back to ask about where she might catch a bus to Seattle, when she heard her name.

“Ashley.”

On the far side of the room sat Dash. He had Little Blade with him, and the puppy was on a leash. For one wild moment all she could do was stare in disbelief. Without thought, Ashley raced across the room and threw herself into Dash's arms. Never in all her life had she been happier to see anyone.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, hugging him so close it was a wonder Dash could breathe. “What about your interview? You should be in Seattle. Did you come back for me?” She didn't give him time to answer. Instead, she was kissing his beautiful face, so happy to see him that she was beyond self-restraint.

It didn't take Dash long to take hold of her head and to kiss her back, hugging her with the same intensity with which she held on to him.

Agent Buckley stood in the background, and after several minutes cleared his throat.

Ashley reluctantly broke off the kiss and looked over her shoulder to the FBI agent.

“You wanted something?” Dash asked, tightening his hold on Ashley, as if to protect her. His grip told her he wasn't going to let anyone take her out of his arms.

“I just wanted to wish you both a merry Christmas.”

“Thank you,” Ashley said, feeling a hundred times better already. Picking up Little Blade, she lavished attention on the puppy and hugged him close to her face, grateful that he was safe and well. She'd missed him and Dash like crazy.

It was hard to believe she'd been in custody twenty-four hours when it'd felt like a lifetime. Even now, she wasn't sure how her identity had been verified, only that it had. It'd all been a terrible misunderstanding.

The agent left and Dash led Ashley outside and into the falling snow. Tilting her head back, she looked up at the sky and smiled until she remembered Dash hadn't answered her questions about the interview. Tucking her hands on each side of his face, she held his eyes with her own.

“What about the job interview?”

“I didn't make it.”

She dropped her gaze, feeling dreadful. Dash kissed her nose. “No worries, Ash. There will be others.”

“But this job was perfect.”

He didn't argue with her. “It is what it is. Even if they had released me in time, there was no way was I going to abandon you until this mess was straightened out.”

“I would have found a way to get to Seattle.”

“I didn't care how long the FBI held you,” Dash insisted. “I wasn't leaving without you.”

“But…”

“I agreed to share the car with you all the way to Seattle. I wasn't going back on my word.”

“But…”

“Are you disappointed I'm here?” he asked, arching his thick brows with the question.

In response, she buried her face in his coat and hugged him again. “No, oh Dash, never. I just hate the thought of you missing out on this job because of me.”

“I called the company and offered my apologies.”

“And?” she asked, looking up at him, certain her eyes must be full of hope.

“And they thanked me for letting them know.”

“That was it?” She could hear the disappointment in his voice.

He nodded. “Like I said, there will be other job interviews. It wasn't meant to be. Please don't think twice about it. I've put it out of my mind and so should you.”

“I'll try, but I don't know that I'll be able to.” Her heart was heavy, knowing that he'd given up this opportunity in order to help her.

“Come on,” he said, slipping his arm around her waist and leading her toward the parking lot.

The falling snow was so beautiful it took her breath away. Her father used to say that snow came from angels scattering dust from the sky. That's exactly how this felt. She inhaled, taking in how wonderful it felt to be in the open air with this man at her side.

“Let's get to Seattle before something else delays us.”

“Who would have ever thought it would be this complicated to drive from San Francisco to Seattle?” she whispered, on the tail end of a yawn. “Did you get any sleep last night?” she asked, covering her mouth and yawning a second time.

“Some. Did you?”

“None. I've never been in jail before. I don't recommend the accommodations.”

Dash grinned and kissed her before opening the passenger door. He paused, his hand on the car door. “Agent Wilkes claimed I'd fallen in love with you and that you'd twisted my thinking.”

“He didn't!” Ashley was outraged on Dash's behalf. This was too much, but then she wondered how he'd answered. Biting down on her lower lip, she toyed with asking him.

“Wilkes was quite insistent that I'd been taken in by your good-girl act and lost perspective.”

“Were you?” she asked in a small voice, curious about how he'd responded.

“I'm afraid so. Ashley, I'm crazy about you.”

Now she knew she was going to cry.

“I'd have to be, to put up with everything that's taken place in the last forty-eight hours. There was no way I was leaving Eugene without you. I called every attorney in the phone book, I contacted Amnesty International and every other agency I could think of that might help. I became a blathering idiot over you and I'd do it again, if I thought it would help.”

“Oh Dash, I'm nuts about you, too. Are we crazy?” She wondered if either one of them was thinking straight, considering they were both sleep-deprived.

“I think we must be,” he agreed. That said, he looked down on her with a big smile on his face. “Still, I wouldn't change a thing—about you, about this crazy drive, about Little Blade, or a single other thing that's happened. Well, maybe other than you spending time in the slammer.”

After closing her door, Dash walked around the car, climbed in the driver's seat, and started the engine.

“No wonder I'm so attracted to you.” Ashley smiled over at him and then leaned her head against the back of the seat. Little Blade was in her lap, his chin on her knee.

Dash reached for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

They talked, keeping each other awake for the remainder of the drive into Seattle. They hit heavy traffic outside of Tacoma, but it didn't bother them. They were high on simply being together.

When Dash parked in front of Ashley's family home, he grew quiet.

“You go inside and greet your mother.”

“You're coming, too, aren't you?” she questioned.

“Not now.”

“Dash, we have plenty of room and you're welcome to spend the night.”

“I want you to take this time with your mother, okay? I'll be by later.”

“Promise?”

He leaned over and kissed her. “Promise,” he said.

If Ashley knew anything about Dash Sutherland, it was the fact that he was a man of his word. If he made a promise, he kept it.