Hannah Alexander - A Killing Frost

“You have a problem with that? We’ve got to get this clinic up and running and bringing in revenue ASAP. We’ve got almost every cent in the till invested in this place, and we’re up to our necks in debt.”

“I thought there was enough to build the clinic without going into debt.”

“That was until we took you on. And I might have underestimated the cost of X-ray machines and lab equipment. I’ve been to the schools to promise end-of-term physicals at a discount, I’ve offered weekly blood pressure checks for anyone over sixty, I’ve-”

“Are you worried we’ll fail?”

“With you here, hometown girl, coming back to treat the sick, I think we’ll make a go of it.”

“No pressure to perform, though, right?” she said dryly.

“The day you signed that contract, I could see your mind working. You’d rather be anywhere but here.”

Jama didn’t argue.

“I heard you hit the ground running today, and did a great job,” he said. “That’ll draw some business this way.”

Jama smiled to herself. This clinic had been Eric’s idea. He had a right to be proud. Because of his hard work and vision, River Dance had a small industrial park at the east edge of town, and other growth was taking place on Main Street. The town may not always be so dependent on the vineyards.

“Have you considered staying past the two-year period?” Eric asked.

“Nope.”

“Not at all? You know Tyrell’s planning to stay.”

“And you’re telling me this because…?”

“Word gets around. You know that. He’s crazy about you, Jama. I can see it in his eyes when he talks about you.”

Jama sighed. She’d seen it, too. Time for a subject change.

“Eric, has Ruth ever done administrative work before?”

“Nothing like this.”

“What has she done?”

“She hasn’t told you?”

“There hasn’t been a lot of time to chat. What’s up with her?”

There was a pause. “What has she said?”

“All she mentioned was that the last place she worked had poor equipment.”

“That’s an understatement.”

“Care to let me in on the secret?”

“She was a missionary,” Eric said.

“You’re kidding.” And no one had said anything about it?

“Sounds to me as if she doesn’t want to talk about it yet.” Eric’s voice was soft. “Don’t ask her, okay?”

“Okay, but where was she a missionary, and why is she here now, and-”

“Tanzania. Her reason for being here is her business unless she decides to tell you. I met Ruth and Jack a few years ago when I was with my guard unit on a peacekeeping mission near their medical clinic in Tanzania. I was taken there for treatment after an injury. She’s on leave from her mission for the immediate future. That’s all I can tell you. Let it drop for now, okay? That poor woman’s been through enough.”

When Eric disconnected, Jama sat staring at the phone for a moment, then shook her head. How many more surprises could she expect before the end of the day?

She called the Mercer Ranch, and was once again amazed by the warm comfort she felt at the sound of Tyrell’s voice.

“Hi,” she said. “Did you mean it when you said you’d be willing to help us here at the clinic for a while?”

“Of course. Daniel just arrived. He can direct the men to prepare for tonight’s freeze. Our cousin, Mae, is driving the tractor, and she’s an expert. I can consult with him by phone if he needs any help.”

“How soon can you be here?”

“Will five minutes work?”

Jama smiled. “I’ll see you then.”

Doriann heard Clancy’s laughter as she stumbled over her own feet, crashing through the woods, noisy and obvious. He’d tricked her, made her think they were both asleep when he was wide-awake. Had he known she was out there all this time?

The sound of his footsteps grew louder, the sound of her breathing harder. It wouldn’t help to scream, because there was nobody to hear except Deb.

Doriann stumbled through a creek, in water up to her knees, scrambled around a small cliff, then plunged beneath some cedar trees.

Grandpa always said the only good cedar tree was a dead cedar tree. That wasn’t true. This was the only place to hide…if Clancy hadn’t already seen her. Twigs and branches popped behind her. Too close!

She ducked behind a thick growth of a stickery green tree, caught the hood of her jacket on a branch that dragged at her for a second, then snapped away.

Clancy stopped a few yards away; she could hear him breathing, talking to himself under his breath. There was a footstep, then another, coming closer. Slowing near where she hid…whispers…laughter under his breath, as if this was all such fun for him. It made her mad.

She saw the toes of his grungy running shoes when he reached the stand of trees. She opened her mouth, breathing as shallowly and quietly as she could, but her heart pumped so hard, she felt sure he could hear the thrum of it in her chest.

And still he whispered. Like a crazy person. Which he was. Mad with cravings for the drugs that kept him high.

Doriann was never doing drugs. Never.

He fell silent for a moment, and Doriann held her breath. Then she heard his laughter, dark, wicked, evil…barely a few feet behind her.

She yelped and plunged from the cedar blind, into the woods where blackberry brambles scraped her face and hands and grabbed her jacket, as if trying to slow her down so he could catch her. But he wasn’t going to catch her. No way!

She raced and stumbled past trees, through thickets, to a hillside with a tiny waterfall running down it. She scrambled over it and down the hill. There she found a stretch of road.

She didn’t dare take time to stop, but she looked both directions as she crossed. This was the Katy Trail! But there weren’t any people on the trail. No surprise.

The road and the river couldn’t be far away.

Clancy plunged from the thicket she’d led him through, and he was angry now, not whispering but cussing out loud. There was no one to help her. She was alone.

She paused long enough to grab up some sandy gravel from the trail. Both hands full, she turned and flung the gravel into his face. With a cry of surprise, he stumbled backward, hands covering his eyes as he spewed his bad words.

Doriann threaded her way into the trees and ran as fast as she could, stumbling over roots, ripping her clothes on thorns, slipping in mud.

She couldn’t tell if he was following her, and couldn’t stop long enough to listen for him. She just ran deeper into the trees and prayed he wouldn’t be able to get the sand out of his eyes and come after her.

Tyrell was in his mother’s car, on his way back to town, when his cell phone jingled its tune from his shirt pocket. He was wishing he’d allowed Jama to talk him into a Bluetooth earpiece when his mother’s voice reached him over the airwaves.

“Tyrell.” It was soft. Dead soft.

He nearly missed a turn. “Mom? What’s wrong? Is it Dad? Has something-”

“Monty is sleeping peacefully. I took a walk around the hospital for some exercise, and I just happened to pass a waiting room with a television.”

No. Oh, no.

“There was an announcement about a child abduction in Kansas City early this morning,” she continued. “The child is still missing and the kidnappers are still at large.”

Tyrell could not speak.

“These abductors are on the FBI’s Most Wanted list. Killers.”

He swallowed. “Mom, what-”

“The child was described as a preteen with red hair and a purple jacket, abducted in the neighborhood where Heather, Mark and Doriann live.”

“Kansas City has a lot of redheaded-”

“I don’t know why, but something disturbed me about the announcement. Maybe it was because of the way you and Jama wouldn’t look me in the eye when you left, or maybe it was because that maintenance man who removed the television from the room couldn’t tell Monty what was wrong with it when he asked.”