Deadly Showdown (The Redeemed K-9 #1)

Prologue

A Flicker in the Pines

The gathering darkness swallowed her whole. A chill went deeper than the cold. It seeped into her very being.

Why, oh, why hadn’t she listened to that inner voice that warned her not to linger in town?

She hadn’t intended to spend so much time at the shops around Cedar Creek, Montana. After all, she was starting a new job and a new life in just two short days. She wanted to make a good impression. That meant reaching her brand-new apartment and getting settled in before her first day of work.

But everything about the town was just so quaint. And she hadn’t felt this good about her decisions in two years. Not since "it" happened.

Emily had remained too long in town without realizing that darkness came quickly in the mountains.

Leaving Duluth and the shadow that followed her since her reckless behavior resulted in a DUI would allow her a fresh start. Even though no one had been hurt and her family said they’d forgiven her, they still questioned her every move as if expecting her to fail.

It was bad enough that the DUI had cost her position as a nurse at the hospital she’d worked at for almost four years. But it was the loss of her family’s faith in her that hurt the most.

Emily flipped the headlights on as the last rays of daylight disappeared. A full-on pitch black that came from being high up in the mountains, where there were no streetlights settled in around her.

She grabbed her phone. Despite the friction between her mom and herself, Emily needed to hear Beverly’s voice.

When the call didn’t go through, her uneasiness ratcheted up to a whole new fear level.

Why hadn’t she listened to her gut and stayed the night in town when it got so late? Instead, she’d wanted to save money by driving straight through.

And now she was in the middle of nowhere, and she couldn’t reach anyone on the phone.

Her hands tightened on the steering wheel as snow continued to fall harder at this higher altitude.

The Subaru’s engine spluttered. Once. Twice. A new fear chased away the ones about her future. She looked out at the stark, unwelcoming landscape. Her stomach turned.

“Oh, please, please, please. Don’t die!” The thought of breaking down and being stuck up here had now become her worst nightmare.

After a couple of moments, the engine appeared to even out. Hope surged, mingling with relief. “Oh, thank you, Lord.”

The tension between her shoulders slowly seeped away, and she leaned back against her seat.

She was okay. The car had plenty of gas thanks to refueling before she left town.

Emily smiled when she thought about starting over in Spokane. The earlier fear faded, replaced by the fragile optimism of a fresh start. No one knew her there. The job at the hospital wasn’t in nursing, but she’d be helping patients with their billing. It was a start.

As she rounded another switchback on the icy, snow-covered road, the car’s engine stumbled again.

“No!” Emily struck the dashboard with her palm. Fear replaced her frustration as the twenty-year-old car she’d bought for this new life sputtered, rolled a few more feet, and stopped dead.

The sudden silence sent a chill through her.

“You’re okay. Don’t panic.” Brave words. She was already there.

Emily squinted at the dim dashboard lights. The temperature was past 250 degrees.

Before purchasing the car, she had it thoroughly checked out by a friend who was a mechanic.

According to Rick, there was nothing wrong with the Subaru, though he’d warned her to keep an eye on the temperature gauge.

He’d told her that sometimes driving through the mountains could put strain on a vehicle.

And she’d forgotten everything Rick warned her about until now.

She’d had a late lunch at the Rusty Elk Café and then bought a small trinket from the Mountain Shepherd Gift Shop to commemorate the trip. Both had served to boost her spirits. For the first time in years, Emily felt good about herself. She was moving forward with her life after two long years.

Now, her previous happiness collapsed into all-out terror, the emotional whiplash leaving her reeling.

Within seconds of the car coming to a stop, heavy snowfall blanketed the windshield. A frightening darkness seemed to move past the glass and metal of the vehicle like a ghost going through walls. It pressed heavily and coldly against her heart.

"Great. Just great," she muttered. Her voice trembled. Emily reached for her phone again. No service. Not even one bar.

Maybe the fix was simple. She popped the hood, shrugged on her coat, and braced against a wind that slashed through heavy wool.

Emily used her phone’s flashlight app to stare at the reminder of yet another mistake she’d made. Wafts of steam rose from the engine into the frigid air.

Rick had told her to pull over and let the car cool down if it got too hot. He’d suggested she bring a couple of gallons of coolant just in case.

Only she hadn’t.

And now she was stuck up on an isolated mountain road off the beaten path, and Emily hadn’t seen another vehicle since leaving Cedar Creek.

The vast stretch outside of Glacier National Park loomed ahead. Darkness was broken only by her flashlight. The only sound was the angry wind through the pine trees on either side of the road.

Another check of the phone confirmed there was still no service. Maybe if she hiked farther up the road, she’d catch a signal.

As she weighed which way to walk, she spotted it—a golden light, lantern-bright but unmoving, deep in the trees on her right. Perhaps a cabin window.

Relief weakened her legs. Someone else was here. Maybe someone is willing to help.

Emily stepped from the road into the trees toward the glow. Instantly, the woods choked off the last threads of daylight. Pitch black seized her. Snow slipped over the tops of her ankle boots as she walked, soaking her socks and chilling her to the bone.

Yet the light remained steadfast. She envisioned a warm fire where she could thaw out and tell her plight to the cabin’s owner.

Her frozen feet slipped over hidden roots and rocks.

“Hello?” she called out, her breath fogging the air in front of her. Her voice seemed to bounce around in the dense air.

The light hovered deep in the woods, drawing her in.

"Please, I need help!" she called out. Nothing but wind answered. She pressed on, heart pounding. Her feet were numb. Branches clawed at her face and sleeves.

She reached a clearing where a cabin sat. The light she’d been following burned inside. Relief flooded her limbs.

Emily hurried up to the door and knocked. “Hello. Is anyone in there?” When no response came, she stepped over to the window and peered inside. An inviting fire burned in the woodstove. A large vat of something sat on top of it. The fragrance of vanilla reached her.

Maybe the owner had gone into town for something. Yet even as she stepped to the door again, it didn’t make sense. It would be impossible to get a vehicle up here.

An icy prickle traced her spine.

“You’re being silly,” she told herself, then reached for the door handle. It opened freely. She stepped inside.

A candle sat on the floor. Wax scattered all around.

Her throat tightened. “What on earth...?”

Then she heard it.

Footsteps rushing toward her. A shadow flickered in the candlelight.

Before Emily could turn, a rough hand clamped over her mouth, stifling her scream. A needle pricked her neck.

Instantly, her world tilted. The candle’s flame blurred into a smear of gold as she hit the floor.

Everything around her faded; the last image Emily saw was a shadowy figure of a man leaning over the candle, whispering something like a prayer as the flame trembled in his breath. Then everything went black.