Gone Too Deep (4 page)

Her frustration intensified when Lou and Callum exchanged a look. “George doesn't say a word to
us
,” Lou explained gently. “And he knows us. There's no way he'll even talk to you about this, much less agree to go on an outdoor adventure with you.”

“What about another search and rescue member?” Ellie pushed, trying to keep her voice steady. “Surely there's someone else who'd be willing to guide me.”

Callum said, “They might be willing, but the mountains are a dangerous place—especially this time of year. Blizzards, wild animals, avalanches, rock slides…not to mention the human dangers. George is the only one I'd trust to get you to the cabin safely.”

It was a measure of Ellie's desperation that she ignored the internal creep alarm that had sounded earlier and blurted, “How about Joseph? Isn't he the head of search and rescue? Couldn't he be my guide?”

“No,” Callum said flatly, the line of his mouth even grimmer than usual.

Lou's eyebrows shot up in surprise as she looked at him. “Why not? Have you heard some juicy story about Joseph that you neglected to share with me, your gossip-loving other half?”

“Nothing specific.” Despite his words, his hard expression didn't soften. “A few rumors. Enough to make me think there might be some truth underlying the gossip. Acconcio is not an option.”

“Then it has to be George,” Ellie said, a little relieved that the Joseph-as-guide option was off the table.

“He'll never agree.” Although she looked sympathetic, Lou nodded at Callum's blunt pronouncement.

Ellie pulled her shoulders back and drew her spine straight. As well-meaning and nice as they were, Callum and Lou didn't know her. They didn't realize what she was capable of doing, the lengths she was willing to go to in order to keep her father safe. “I have to at least ask him. Do you have George's phone number?”

“No phone,” Callum said.

Ellie stared at him, glanced at an equally stunned-looking Lou, and then repeated, “No…phone?”

“How does he live without a phone?” Lou breathed.

“Um…so how can I get ahold of him?” Ellie asked. “Do you know where he lives?”

Lifting his cap, Callum rubbed his short-cropped hair and then readjusted his hat. “Probably not a good idea to walk up to his place uninvited. Word has it that he has a pretty impressive gun collection.” When Ellie just looked at him beseechingly, he huffed out a breath. “SAR has training tonight at seven at Station One. He should be there.”

Lou pulled out her cell phone. “I'm not missing this. Jules owes me one, so I'll make her close for me tonight. We'll pick you up at five thirty, so we can go to Levi's for dinner first. Are you staying at the Black Bear Inn?”

“Um…maybe?” She wondered if that was the slightly scary-looking motel she'd passed on the way into town. “Is that the only option?”

“It's pretty much that or your car.” Lou grimaced apologetically as she tapped her screen and then raised her phone to her ear.

“The Black Bear Inn it is, then.”

* * *

As Ellie sat in her car in the parking lot of The Coffee Spot, she decided to call Chelsea and get that unpleasant task out of the way. She would probably not be happy with Ellie asking for a week of vacation time, especially at the last minute.

Chelsea answered with her usual disregard for conventional manners. “OMG, El, Dylan will not shut up about your luscious self, you temptress, you.”

It took Ellie a moment to remember Dylan. Their interrupted date seemed such a long time ago. “Uh, that's nice. Anyway, Chels, I need to ask a favor.”

“Did you want to borrow my adorable black mini for the next time you go out with Dylan?”

“No.”

“How about my supercute red Valentino pumps, with the bows?”

“No.”

“Then what about—”

“The favor isn't clothes related,” Ellie interrupted before Chelsea went through the entire contents of her extensive closet. “I need some time off. It's going to take longer than I thought to get my dad.”

There was a slightly ominous pause. “How long are we talking?”

Ellie winced. “I can't drive to the cabin, because the road doesn't get plowed, so I'll need to hike.”

“Hike? Plow?” Chelsea's voice squeaked on the last word. “There's still snow there? Where are you, Alaska?”

“Alaska's probably warmer than it is here. The guy who looked at the map said it would probably take three days.”

“Three days?” Chelsea repeated. “So you won't get back until Friday?”

Clearing her throat, Ellie said, “Um, it's three days one way.”

Silence fell on the other end of the call. “A week, then?”

Chelsea sounded calmer than Ellie had expected, and she was cautiously relieved. At least there hadn't been any screaming yet. “Yes.”

“El, this is sounding pretty dangerous. I mean, hiking for
days
? You should just call the police or the Mounties or whoever carries guns up there in the middle of nowhere. Let them go get your dad and bring him to you.”

The memory of the last time they were at the cabin flashed through her mind again. Even though Chelsea couldn't see her, Ellie shook her head hard enough that strands of her dark hair whipped across her cheeks. “That would be bad. He doesn't trust anyone in law enforcement. He doesn't trust anyone, period. Well, except for me.” She hoped. “I'll have a guide.” She hoped. “I'll be fine.” She really, really hoped.

After yet another long pause, Chelsea gave a heavy sigh. “Fine. Go. Leave me here with only Willow and Rylee to help. You
know
Ry doesn't fold anything with sleeves right.”

Ignoring Chelsea's long-suffering tone, Ellie grinned. “Thanks, Chels. After this, I promise to never ask for time off again. Well, at least for a few months.”

Chelsea snorted. “Well, just don't fall off a cliff or anything. You can't be all bruised and concussed for your next date with Dylan.”

After promising to do her very best not to fall off any cliffs, Ellie managed to end the call. Blowing out a relieved breath, she started the rental. It seemed silly to drive, since the Screaming Moose was only a few blocks away from the coffee shop, but the slick lot and her still-throbbing tailbone had Ellie backing out of her parking space.

As she stepped through the door of the Screaming Moose, Ellie instantly relaxed. Although it was more touristy than high fashion, the shop made Ellie nostalgic for when they'd first opened Chelsea's boutique. It even smelled the same, like new clothes with the slightest whiff of perfumed customers. The Screaming Moose, with its mishmash of merchandise crammed into every corner, desperately needed a makeover, but Ellie immediately loved the little shop. The space was designed to resemble the interior of a mountain cabin, and the light wood was both warm and airy. The place, Ellie decided, rotating in a slow circle, had truckloads of potential.

“Hi.” The greeting made her jump and turn toward the checkout counter that was tucked in the corner. The woman behind it was in her forties, with black hair pulled back into a twist. “Need some help?”

“Hello.” Ellie smiled as the woman pulled off her bejeweled reading glasses and let them dangle on a chain around her neck. “Apparently, I'm ill prepared for walking across the parking lots in this town.” She lifted one bootied foot.

“At least you accept responsibility for your choice of footwear.” Although her voice was tart, the woman looked amused as she stood and circled to the front of the counter. “Most visitors wearing heels just threaten to sue.”

“Actually,” Ellie admitted, “I'll need more than just warm boots. I'm going on a three-day hike, and I didn't even bring a coat.” A little embarrassed, she gave her long sweater a tug.

The woman's perfectly arched eyebrows headed toward her hairline, but then she smiled. “My dear, this is going to be fun.”

It was old and odd, and the locks were the manual kind with the room number on the key, but the motel room appeared to be blessedly clean. Ellie breathed a sigh of relief as she tugged her suitcase through the doorway. In her other hand, she clutched an enormous bag with an openmouthed, distressed-looking moose printed on it. Ellie had worn her new, deliciously warm boots out of the store, and walking was much easier without her booties.

The bed looked dangerously inviting after the last two abbreviated nights' sleep, but a glance at her watch told her she needed to hurry. Lou and Callum would be there to pick her up in ten minutes, and she wanted to change into some of her new clothes to prevent George from thinking she was a useless city girl. She frowned as she pulled off her boots, worried about how he'd already probably dismissed her as hopeless, but there was no harm in trying to improve his
second
impression.

After wiggling out of her skinny jeans, sweater, and blouse, she pulled out her new wicking long underwear. George wasn't going to see her underlayers, but having them on made her feel more authentic. Thick, warm socks were next. She put on her fleece pants and top after that, loving the soft, fuzzy fabric. Next, she topped it off with a waterproof jacket and pants.

When she walked to the bathroom to look in the mirror, the top layer made a
shush
ing sound as it moved. Once she saw her reflection, she made a face. The layers were more bulky than fashionable, and her lack of heels made her look awfully short. Usually, her choice of shoes added four inches or so to her diminutive stature.

She caught a glimpse of her unhappy expression in the mirror and immediately gave herself a mental lecture. This was all to help her dad. Looking good should be so far down on her list of priorities that she shouldn't even be glancing in the mirror. Firming her mouth into a straight line, she turned away, although she couldn't resist tugging her jacket down to smooth the bulging fabric so it didn't give the illusion of a belly lump.

As she left the bathroom, she heard a sound at the door. Ellie took a step toward it, thinking it was Lou and Callum, but then she paused. The person at the door wasn't knocking. Instead, there was the metallic click of the lock releasing.

Her breath caught as she froze, starting at the door until it started to swing inward. The movement jarred her from her paralysis, and she looked around frantically. The motel phone was on the nightstand on the far side of the bed. Her racing brain tried to remember where she'd left her cell phone.

In my purse!
Ellie turned toward the table by the entrance where she'd dropped all of her bags—including her cell-phone-holding purse—but then hesitated, not wanting to run closer to the slowly opening door.

Before she could decide whether to dash for her phone or to run back into the bathroom and lock herself inside, the intruder stepped through the doorway.

“Joseph?” Surprised, she paused, thrown off by his smile as he closed the door behind him.

“Hey, Ellie.” He held up a motel key. “Hope you don't mind that I let myself in. Marian, the owner here, is a big fan since I rescued her grandson after he wandered away on a Boy Scout outing.”

Ellie's gaze darted back and forth between Joseph's grinning face and the key. “She gave you a key to my room?”

“Sure.” He leaned casually against the door, blocking her only escape route. “Oh, don't worry. I'm search and rescue—the head of it, actually. You can trust me.”

If her stomach hadn't still been churning with fear, Ellie would've laughed at the ridiculousness of hearing this from the man who'd just entered her motel room without permission. “You need to leave.”

“C'mon, Ellie. I just want to get to know you. Ten minutes with me, and you'll forget all about Holloway.” His expression soured when he mentioned George's name. “Trust me, you want to stay far away from that weirdo. What do women see in him, anyway?”

Her eyes followed the movement as he tucked the key to her room into his coat pocket. “This isn't the way to convince me you're a great guy. Please leave now.”

He slowly pushed away from the door, straightening to his full height. “No need to be scared. You're safe with me. I mean, I save people almost every day.” His eyes dropped down her body again, and all her inner alarms blared. Whatever game he was playing with George Holloway, somehow she had inadvertently become the prize—and Joseph didn't strike her as a man who liked to lose. She had to get out of here.
Now.

The exit was blocked, and her cell was right next to Joseph. The landline was on the other side of the room. There was only one option left. Spinning around, she dashed for the bathroom.

“Hey!” Joseph shouted.

She skidded once she hit the slick linoleum. Twisting, she grabbed for the door. Her sweaty fingers slipped across the wood as she slammed it closed. Relief poured through her as she fumbled for the lock. The door was thin, but hopefully it would keep Joseph out until Lou and Callum arrived. The knob was smooth, and Ellie glanced down, her newly raised hope deflating. There was no lock.

Turning, she pressed her back against the door, bracing her legs in front of her. Although she fought to hold it closed, it was no use. Her socked feet slid, refusing to find purchase, and the door opened a few feet, shoving her straining body along with it.

Wedging his compact form between the jamb and the door, Joseph grinned, and Ellie flinched. Despite her urban upbringing, she knew a predator's smile when she saw one.

“That's okay,” he said. “I like playing games, too.”

“I'm not playing,” she panted, breathless with exertion and fear. “I want you to leave!”

Ignoring her protest, he pushed against the door again, managing to widen the opening so he could get all the way into the tiny room. Her heart pounding, Ellie backed up until she bumped into the far wall.

As Joseph stepped closer, she stared at him, trying to hide her terror. Why hadn't she taken that self-defense class with Chelsea? Ellie had been afraid of looking clueless and weak in front of everyone, but that would've been a thousand times better than being clueless and weak in front of an advancing Joseph.

“You're so pretty.” He reached toward her, ignoring her flinch, and caught a strand of dark hair between his fingers. “You're too good for Holloway.”

Her breathing was fast and shallow, and her mouth so dry she wasn't sure if she could speak. She had to try, though. She couldn't just stand here like a helpless bird caught in someone's hand.

“Lou's coming here,” she forced out. Her voice was almost inaudible, so she took a breath and tried again. “Lou's coming with Callum.”

The words acted like a slap, making him jerk his head back and release his grip on her hair.

“They'll be here any minute now.” His reaction gave her a tiny bit of confidence, and her voice got louder. “I can't imagine how much it would suck to get on Callum's bad side. It would probably be really painful, don't you think?”

His usual smug grin was gone, replaced by something a lot colder. Ellie hardly had time to be terrified before Joseph smoothed his expression and took a couple of steps back. “Why didn't you tell me you had plans?” he asked. “We can finish this another time.”

“We're not finishing this.” He'd already left the bathroom before she was done talking.

Ellie stayed pressed against the wall for several shaky breaths before she peeked into the room to make sure he was, indeed, gone. After quickly repacking her things, she jammed her feet in her boots, grabbed her suitcase, purse, and Screaming Moose bags, and rushed to the door.

She paused, scared that Joseph might be right outside, waiting for her. Opening the door just far enough to see that the immediate area was Joseph-free, Ellie slipped outside and hurried to the office. Her suitcase wheels caught on the ruts in the hard-packed snow, forcing her to pick it up and carry it.

No one was at the front desk when she entered. She reached to tap the ring-for-service bell and then hesitated, eyeing the keys hanging on the wall. If the owner had given Joseph her room key once, what would stop her from doing it again if Ellie changed rooms? There was no other motel in Simpson, though, so she was stuck here. Pulling back her hand, she gave a nervous glance around before darting behind the desk and snatching the key with a “3” printed on it.

Her heart thundering in her ears, she grabbed her bags again and headed for the door. She had to force herself not to run. Ellie had never stolen anything in her life. Although she reminded herself that she'd paid for a room, just a
different
room, nerves still made her hands slippery.

She'd barely locked herself into her new room when a knock on the door made her jump. Pressing a hand to her chest, she reached for her phone. Tapping 9-1-1 but not the Send button, she tiptoed toward the door and peered through the peephole.

When she saw Lou standing there, relief made her knees weak, and she canceled the call before hurrying to open the door. Lou did a double take.

“Whoa. You're much shorter than I initially thought. I'm not taller than a lot of people, but you actually make me feel vertically superior.”

Although Ellie was still shaky, Lou's easy, joking manner calmed her, allowing her to answer almost lightly. “Heels. Well, a lack thereof. How'd you know what room I was in?” She worried that her key grab hadn't been so stealthy after all.

“We were headed toward where your rental car was parked, but then Eagle-Eye Callum saw you go into this one.” Lou eyed her appraisingly, stepping into the motel room so the door could close behind her. “This is much better. You don't look like you're going to slip, fall into a snowbank, and freeze to death now.”

The conversation was so normal and practical that it made what had happened with Joseph seem almost unreal. She opened her mouth to blurt out the whole terrifying story, but she changed her mind. At the coffee shop, it had seemed like Lou and Joseph were friends. Lou barely knew her. What if Lou didn't believe her? Would she go back on her promise to take her to talk to George? Panic flashed through her. George was her only option now for finding her dad. She couldn't risk it.

Lou was looking at her quizzically, so Ellie forced a smile. “Good. I was going for that exact look.”

“Do you have a hat?”

“Oh!” At the reminder, Ellie hurried to the Screaming Moose bag. “I do. Several, in fact, of varying degrees of warmth.” She pulled out a cute beanie, along with a pair of gloves. Tugging on the hat, she turned back to Lou. “What do you think?”

“Perfect.” Lou grinned. “Although you might want to lose the price tag.”

“Oops.” She hurried to her suitcase. As she crouched next to it, digging for her toiletry bag—which held her nail clippers—there was another knock on the door, making Ellie freeze again. Lou looked through the peephole before swinging open the door.

“Did you miss me already?” she asked.

“What's the holdup?” Callum sounded grumpy. Relieved that it wasn't Joseph, Ellie turned back to her search.

“We just need to do some tag removal, and then we'll be ready to go.” Lou didn't sound fazed by her boyfriend's tone. “We have plenty of time.”

He responded with a wordless grumble. Ellie raised her head, blowing aside the tag that dangled in front of her eyes to see him striding toward her, knife in hand. With a squeak of alarm, she shifted away. For the second time that day, she lost her balance and tipped onto her backside. Her tailbone throbbed in protest.

Ignoring her uncoordinated retreat, Callum reached for her head, snagging the tag and slicing it off her hat with a quick jerk of his knife. Her realization of what he'd intended was quickly followed by a hot rush of embarrassment at her overreaction. He was just so very large and grim looking, and she wasn't used to the type of men who carried weapons on a daily basis. Plus, she was still on edge from her encounter with Joseph.

“Any more?” he asked, still brandishing the knife, and Ellie silently held out her left hand, where a white square dangled at her wrist. Once he sliced it off her glove, he offered his free hand to help her off the floor.

“I think that's it,” she said, brushing off her seat in a nervous gesture. Barbara, the woman at the Screaming Moose, had removed most of the tags for her. Just to make sure, she did a slow-motion twirl before giving Lou a questioning look.

“If you're tagged anywhere else, it's hidden.” Lou pulled open the door. “Ready?”

Ellie started to follow, but stopped and belatedly turned to Callum. “Thank you.”

He acknowledged her thanks with a brisk nod as he put away his knife and ushered both women toward the door.

“I'm sorry if I made us late,” Ellie apologized, a little confused by the rush. She grabbed her new room key from the table by the door as he herded her by it.

Lou snorted a laugh. “We're not late. Cal just likes to stick to a schedule.” Her voice lowered to a stage whisper. “He's a little anal.”

Callum's directing hand swung toward Lou's butt, connecting with a smack that made her yelp and jump out of range. She sent a glare his way, but her laugh bubbled out, ruining her show of disapproval.

They headed for Callum's pickup, and Lou climbed into the backseat, despite Ellie's protestations.

“You're already doing so much,” Ellie said, reluctantly sitting in the front passenger seat when Lou didn't budge. “You don't even know me, and you're still going out of your way to help.”

Leaning between the front seats, Lou gave Ellie's shoulder a light bump with her fist. “We're not doing that much. Besides, until you arrived, our investigation into Willard's death had pretty much reached a standstill. The whiteboard hadn't seen any action for a while. Helping you fits right into what we were doing anyway.”