Page 66 of Last Chance Christmas

Anthony checked his watch. Five minutes now. “Why haven’t they found her yet?”

“They have to be thorough. Give them?—”

“Found her!” It was Ridge on the radio.

“Status?” Bryce asked.

“Unconscious. Back room in northwest corner. Bringing her out now.”

Kianna looked at Trace. “Let’s get the cot.”

Anthony could only stand there and count the seconds. There were too many of them as far as he was concerned. The paramedics were back with the cot right as Ridge and Eddie spilled out of the front entrance, carrying Della between them. Turnout gear and her mask obscuring her face. But her dark braid swung in the air until they set her on the cot.

She was too still.

Anthony rushed over, but the others crowded him out. He followed them to the ambulance, where finally, he could at least stand at the foot of the cot as they lifted her in. Kianna removed the mask while Trace checked for a pulse. Kianna froze.

“What?” Anthony yelled. Why did Kianna look so confused? And more importantly, why wasn’t she doing anything?

Trace dropped his hand from the patient’s neck. “I can’t find a pulse.”

“Try again!” Anthony gripped the sides of the ambulance door, ready to launch inside and start CPR himself.

But Trace only shook his head. “ She’s dead.”

The words barely registered when Kianna spoke. “But it’s not Della. I don’t know who this woman is.”

Sixteen

Della’s moan echoed. Where was she? Her head hurt too much to open her eyes. Her body shivered. She curled into herself, needing to conserve whatever warmth she could find. She finally cracked one lid open. Stark cement walls and a dirt floor. The lone light bulb dangling on a cord from the ceiling gave out meager light. Not enough to push back the darkness creeping in from the corners.

She had to get out of here.

With shaky arms, she pushed her torso up. The thin sleeves of her work shirt did nothing to fight off the chill. Looking down, she had her uniform pants on still, but only socks on her feet. What happened to her turnout gear? Her boots?

More importantly, where had Vaynes taken her, and how was she going to escape?

“So, you’re awake.” The raspy voice followed by the sound of footsteps descending a staircase sent a shockwave of ice through her body.

She tried to inject confidence into her words. “You’re not going to get away with this.”

He laughed, the mirthless sound bouncing around the empty room. “I have, and I will. We have unfinished business. You cut our last game short. And I’ve had plenty of time to dream up new ways of playing.”

He didn’t move closer to her. He stayed in the middle of the room, outside the faint light from the bulb.

It took everything Della had to hold eye contact. But she refused to back down. She refused to show the fear that ricocheted through her. She dug deep to find the anger, anything to push aside the hopelessness. She couldn’t let him see how much he affected her. It only fed his appetite.

She could focus on getting information and escaping though.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“Somewhere no one will find you. Not for a very long time.” He smiled and circled around the light, sticking to the shadows. “Had quite the time getting up here with this weather. And it’s only getting worse. So if you think you’re going to sneak away and flag down help, think again. We’re too remote. If I don’t kill you, the elements will. But that’s not really something I’m anticipating. I took precautions.”

He said “up here.” So they must be in the mountains outside of the city somewhere. She’d much rather take her chances with nature, but she kept the words to herself. She needed more information.

“What are you going to do with me?”

He moved close enough to reach out and touch her hair. Della pulled away, but not fast enough. His grip tightened, and he yanked her head up close enough to smell his foul breath in her face. “We’re going to set the record straight.”