Chapter 5
FLYNN
Oh, how she hated hospitals.
Flynn burst through the automatic doors of Alaska Regional Hospital and spotted Dawson immediately.
He sat in the waiting room, in one of the vinyl chairs near the windows, hunched over his phone.
Across the waiting room Hazel curled in an oversized chair, wearing headphones and watching her tablet, also absorbed in something.
Shep’s stray-slash-rescue dog Caspian sat beside her on his leash, his dark eyes alert but calm as Hazel absently stroked his ears.
Caspian glanced at her, dark brown eyes worried. Yeah, she got that.
The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead like angry wasps, casting harsh shadows across the waiting room’s mint green walls.
Vinyl chairs in faded burgundy formed uncomfortable clusters around low tables littered with dog-eared magazines from three months ago.
Christmas garland draped limply from the reception desk, secured with what looked like medical tape, and a sad artificial tree blinked red and green lights in the corner.
The tree sat in a wheelchair base—probably borrowed from the supply closet—surrounded by wrapped gift boxes that definitely contained nothing but air.
The odor of disinfectant and burnt coffee brewing too long hung in the air, undertoned by the scent of human anxiety that no amount of industrial cleaning could scrub away.
Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, snow pelted the glass in sideways sheets, driven by wind that rattled the frames and sent white dervishes through the parking lot.
The storm had swallowed most of Anchorage, reducing the city to isolated pockets of light struggling against the arctic darkness.
“Dawson.” She shed her heavy wool jacket as she headed toward them. Her detective’s badge swung on its chain around her neck. “I heard from Echo.”
His head snapped up, and he drew in a breath, sat back. “And?”
“They’re okay. All of them.” Flynn sank into the molded plastic chair beside him, the cold surface biting through her black sweater. “They found Winter and got her to a homestead. The Matthews family. But the storm’s too bad for helicopter pickup, so they’re stuck out there.”
“I know the Matthews,” he said. “Good folk. The team should stay there, hunker down.” He glanced at Hazel, lowered his voice. “We don’t need anyone dying today.”
“Yeah, well, it’s getting complicated. They have a load of Christmas packages to deliver to Clearwater first.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“With sled dogs.”
The words hung there, as Dawson frowned, then. “Yeah, okay. That sounds right. Everest Matthews is a musher. They’ll be okay.”
Flynn glanced at Hazel, still in her world under her headphones. “Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve. Question is whether they’ll make it back in time.”
Dawson glanced outside, shook his head. “Sled dogs through a blizzard. Leave it to Moose to find the most dangerous way home.”
“At least they’re not completely stranded.” Flynn glanced toward the hallway that led to the patient rooms, then back at the sterile waiting area. “I hate hospitals, you know that. As a cop, I only end up here when something’s gone really wrong.” Her voice fell. “Is Tillie okay?”
Dawson’s expression grew serious. “Dunno. She’s twelve weeks along. Apparently she’s been hiding it, waiting for Christmas morning to tell Moose.”
Flynn’s chest tightened. “After last time…”
“Yeah. I know. I think she was too afraid to confirm anything. And now… I don’t know. I’m out here, with Hazel…” Dawson’s voice trailed off. “She lost one eight months ago, four months after she and Moose got married.”
“Right about the time Hazel’s adoption went through,” Flynn said quietly. Her heart ached. Tillie had been through so much already fighting for custody of Hazel. Losing a baby during what should have been the happiest time of her life.
Please, God.
“Maybe we don’t tell her about the sled dog plan.”
“I told her that we’d gotten word that they’d found Winter, but…” He gestured toward the patient rooms. “She’s pretty fragile right now. Waiting for an ultrasound.”
“Flynn?” Hazel wore a puffy winter coat that made her look even smaller. Her dark hair hung in tangles around her face. “What are you doing here?”
“Hey, sweetheart.” Flynn moved to kneel beside the chair, forcing her voice to stay gentle. “How are you doing?”
“My mommy doesn’t feel good.”
Flynn glanced at Dawson, who shook his head. She could nearly hear his words, x-nay on the aby-bay. Right. Maybe that was a conversation preserved for their family.
“Do you think she’ll be okay? She was crying…”
Hazel’s voice was whisper-thin.
The image of Tillie—tough Tillie, former soldier, elite athlete, who’d protected her sister from an abusive man, made a life for Hazel and her sister…
Crying? Flynn’s throat closed.
“You mom’s getting the best care, and she’s strong.”
“Are you scared about Daddy and Uncle Axel?” Hazel bit her lip, glancing at Dawson, back to Flynn. “They went to save people.”
“Yes, they did honey. And no, I’m not scared. They’re smart and courageous and I know they’ll be fine.” Oh please, Lord, let her not be lying to those sweet brown eyes.
Hazel nodded, such a serious look on her face.
Outside, a car pulled up at the entrance and even as Hazel’s attention went to it, Flynn turned.
A woman practically fell out of the passenger side door onto the sidewalk. Landed on all fours—what?
She got up and headed toward the doors.
The car shrieked away, and the woman turned and screamed. Flynn caught the tail end as the woman writhed—in physical pain, clearly, but a sort of emotional anguish pouring from her that could take Flynn apart.
She’d heard these kind of screams before.
“Ma’am?”
An orderly had rushed out behind her, gone to the woman who’d clearly been beaten. Blood covered her face, her nose blackened with blood, her lip split, one eye closed, and she held her ribs as if she might be bleeding internally.
Flynn helped the orderly get her up, and half-carried, half dragged her inside. The man put her into a nearby wheelchair. “I’ll be right back.”
Flynn kneeled in front of her. “What happened—?”
“Marcus Ravak happened.” Dawson’s voice, behind her, coming up to them.
She stiffened at the name, studied the woman. “Rosa?”
The woman glanced at her, caught her breath, and then her face crumpled and she leaned over.
And wailed.
And Flynn knew. Just knew… “Kiana.”
“He took her. He has her.”
Dawson made a sound, as if the words hit him, deep in the chest. Then he crouched next to Rosa. “What happened?”
“He…” She coughed, and blood spurted out of her. Flynn backed up. Aw, the woman was in big trouble. “I went out to buy Kiana a gift and he…he accused me of betraying him.”
Of course he did.
“Said I’d told the cops where to find him.” She coughed again, and this time, caught the blood on her hands. “But I didn’t—I swear—and…now he’s got her and…” She moaned, her arms across her body. “He’s going to kill her.”
Flynn stilled. But the truth slid inside her, a knife. Yes, trafficker Marcus Ravak was just the kind of man to kill a child. “Okay, okay—where is he. We’ll find him.”
Rosa’s eyes widened. “Oh…oh. No. no—you’re cops!”
Flynn stood up. “We’re on your side. And we’re the only hope you have of getting Kiana back.”
But the woman had started to sob, deep wrenching pain that resounded through the ER.
Across the room, Caspian had started to wail.
Flynn turned, spotted Hazel standing now, her arms around Caspian, her eyes wide. Oh—
She headed over to her, knelt in front of her and pulled her close. “Shh. It’s okay.”
“That woman is really hurt.”
Caspian still whimpered, and Flynn put a hand on his head. “I know. But she’s here, in the hospital—”
“What happened to her?”
And Flynn just couldn’t say—a bad man beat her. And frankly, maybe Hazel had seen this before. But the little girl didn’t need to drag up old memories, reignite nightmares. “She’s just…hurt.”
Just then, the orderly came back with a blanket and a plastic wrist identifier. He put it on the woman, still weeping, covered her with the blanket and wheeled her back into the ER.
Flynn’s gaze fell on Dawson’s hard-edged look. Uh oh.
She gripped Hazel’s hand as Dawson walked back to them.
“I got the address.”
“We need backup,” she said.
“No time. He’ll move again. Who knows if he’s even going back there.”
“He’s armed, for sure. And he has a child.”
Caspian had walked over, set himself next to Hazel, who put her hand on his head.
“Flynn.” Dawson said. “I need you to stay with Hazel.”
She stilled, caught her breath. “Don’t, Dawson—”
“I have to. This might be our only chance.”
She winced, hating that he was right.
Outside.
“His daughter is only five years old.” Dawson said.
“Okay, but wait for backup.”
“I will,” Dawson said quietly.
Aw, but she knew him. “Seriously.”
“That little girl might not have time for backup.”
Flynn’s chest burned. “Dawson, this man is unpredictable. Violent beyond…well, you saw Rosa. And…others.” She sighed, but she got it. They’d been tracking him, building a case against Ravak and his network for nearly a year. She looked down at Hazel, her brown eyes looking up.
And only saw Kiana, at least in her imagination.
“Six months of surveillance, Flynn. I know how he thinks, how he moves.” Dawson’s voice dropped. “But I also know that if we wait, Kiana is dead.”
“This could turn into a hostage situation.”
“Not if I get to him first.”
Flynn’s phone buzzed. She glanced at it. “Echo, with an update.”
“Stay here. Watch Hazel, update Tillie. I’ve got this.”
“Dawson—”
“Trust me.” He smiled at her.
It landed in her gut, a rock.
Flynn watched him disappear through the automatic doors into the storm, chasing a desperate man who held his own daughter’s life in his hands.
She pulled out her phone with trembling fingers. Echo’s text was brief but reassuring: Team safe. Planning overland route with sled dogs. ETA tomorrow evening if weather cooperates.
And in the parking lot, Dawson pulled out in Moose’s truck.
Flynn’s blood turned to ice.
Please, let no one die today.
“Hazel,” she said, crouching in front of her. “How about a candy bar?”