Page 8 of Holiday Hostage
“My balls are none of your concern, but I appreciate the worry.” Reed attacked his own wall with his usual vengeance. “Nothing like a time-sensitive, dangerous mission to get the blood pumping.”
He flexed his arms, laughing when Maverick threw a pair of thick socks in his face.
“Set us up, Tarron.” Maverick passed me a thick packet. “This is everything Frank had on Payton’s trip, including her last known location and who she was with before she disappeared.”
“Great.” I sat in one of the swivel chairs at the round table planted in the center of the garage.
This was our ground zero, our planning room. It was the place where we all found the most peace.
“We’ll start there. I want to see if Reed can get a read on the situation from the beginning. If he thinks there’s been trouble, we’ll move out. I don’t see any need to talk to this guide or the others in her group. These reports are solid.” I skimmed the police reports, then went back for a detailed look.
Every one of them matched up in all the important ways. Payton had been with them on a hike.
She left the group to look at the river, promising to return in ten minutes.
When she didn’t show up, Liam went looking. He’d found her backpack, footprints, and nothing else.
“No blood on the scene.” I flipped through the pages again. “All of the officers on site agreed it wasn’t an animal attack. No blood, and no animal tracks.”
“No. Just human tracks. They want to explain those away as Liam trampling all over the place and muddying up the site, but he swears he stayed at the edge of the woods.”
Maverick unzipped a black duffel and began packing thick socks, lined pants, his mukluks, and a fur-lined parka.
I scanned the photos, then handed them to Reed.
He was the tracker of our group, and I trusted his instincts more than anyone who’d been on site.
The Alaska wilderness was a new one for us.
“We’ve never been anywhere this cold.”
We had the gear, but that would not prepare our bodies for the brutal environment. “I need to grab some stuff.” I left the dossier on the table and headed to my wall.
Combatting cold came with more than the right clothes. We’d need medicines to carry in case of emergencies, things to make hot tea, or melt snow.
The list rolled through my head, and I mentally ticked off each item as I packed it in a duffel similar to Maverick’s.
His phone rang, and he answered in the middle of setting the phone down.
“Mr. Rivers, you’re on speaker with my team. Reed and Tarron have been with me since my early military days.”
“Good. I trust you’re almost ready?” The noises coming through the phone held my interest.
There were footsteps, then a shuffle of pages, then…nothing.
“We’re packing now. I estimate we can be at the airport by nightfall.” Maverick checked his watch, then eyed each of us for a confirming nod.
“No need.” Frank Rivers barked out the words with a kind of forcefulness that said he was used to being obeyed. “I have a private jet ready for you. Head to my private airport. The man at the gate knows to let you in. He’ll show you to the plane.”
Reed’s grin was a messy thing that said he’d thought of something utterly ridiculous and was struggling to keep his mouth shut.
He shook his head, slapped a hand over his mouth, and retreated to the kitchen.
I followed, trusting Maverick to retain the details of the upcoming mission.
That was how we’d survived so long.
We trusted each other, and we relied on each other’s strengths.
