A Bridge Unbroken (A Miller's Creek Novel) (22 page)

"You still there?"

"Yeah."

"Pack your bags and find something else to do this afternoon. Go to town. Do some shopping. Whatever. I'll call you later."

"Okay."

The line went dead.

Dakota traipsed up the stairs to gather her clothes, essentials, and computer. At least she'd have some writing time and safety away from whoever left the footprints, even if it did delay the completion of the house.

A few minutes later they sped down the road toward Morganville. She spent the early afternoon hours picking up supplies, and then headed to the thrift stores to pick up a few more clothes, a newfound spring to her step. How long had it been since she'd just had a fun day? Way too long. Would there come a time in her life where she could take more days like this? Not likely. Especially with the house renovation and a flailing writing career to resuscitate.

Her phone rang, and she answered. "Hey, Chance."

"Just got through talking to Matt. He and Gracie have a place for you to stay and a fenced-in back yard for Daisy."

Warmth spread throughout her at the mention of Matt and Gracie. It would be fun to spend time with her new friends. Yes, time away from the house and with new friends might just give her the fresh perspective she sorely needed.

"Awesome. I'm looking forward to spending time with them. Mr. Downey can start tomorrow. I'll go out there during the day to work on the house as long as he's there."

"Sounds like a plan." Again his voice was laced with concern. "I'll be off work early today. Why don't you meet me at the farm, say around five? We'll get some more work done, then I'll go with you to Matt and Gracie's house to make sure you feel comfortable."

He'd thought of everything. "Okay. See you then."

The rest of the afternoon proved to be both fun and relaxing. Dakota snagged two pair of jeans, a dress, three shirts, and a pair of tennis shoes that looked as though they'd never been worn for under ten dollars. Clutching her bag of bargains, she climbed in the truck and headed back to the farm.

Once at the house, she parked and exited the truck, Daisy still on her leash. She'd just had time to grab her packages as Chance made the bend in the road. She waited by her truck as he parked and strode toward her.

"You two are a sight for sore eyes." He squatted to pat Daisy. "Had me scared earlier today." His weary face gave credence to his words.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

He rose to his feet, his eyes on her face and his arms twitching restlessly, but didn't step toward her or give her a hug.

Unexpected disappointment flooded her heart.
Quit it, Dakota
. She couldn't very well complain when he complied with her wishes to keep things on a platonic level, now could she? She started for the house.

Chance followed. "How was your afternoon?"

"Actually fun. I got a good deal on a few clothes at the thrift store." Dakota spoke the words over her shoulder as they climbed the steps.

Suddenly his face darkened, and he stopped in mid step, his gaze trained on something beyond her.

She turned in the direction of his gaze.

A gigantic hunting knife pierced through a fluttering sheet of paper and into the door. Large computer-printed letters covered the note. "Glad I found you, Amy. We'll meet again...soon."

In what seemed like slow motion, Dakota crumpled to the floor of the porch as everything went black.

Chapter Twenty

C
hance's pulse exploded into high gear. He quickly fell to his knees beside Dakota. Breathing? Check. He moved her head to his lap, and patted her cheeks. "Come on, Dakota. Wake up, honey."

Her eyes flitted open, her face deathly pale. "What happened?"

"You passed out on me."

At his words her entire body shook furiously, as though reminded of the note and knife. She moved to a sitting position, head in her hands, still trembling from head to toe.

He brought her chin up so he could see her eyes. "Hey, this could just be a prank by some kid. Don't be afraid." Her trembling moved into his body as well. No, this wasn't a prank. It was serious, and her entire body bore witness to the fact. He reached for his phone and quickly dialed 911.

"911. Can I help you?"

"Yeah, I need you to dispatch the county Sherriff's Department and the Miller's Creek Police to 9612 Cedar Bend Road. The police will know it as the Levi Kelly farm."

Dakota placed a hand on his arm, her eyes pleading. "No, Chance. Don't call the police. Please." Her trembling moved to a 7.0 on the Richter scale.

Part of him wanted to give in to her request based on the fear that darkened her green eyes. But he couldn't. She might not like it, and most assuredly wouldn't like him for doing it, but this was the right move.

"And your name?"

"Chance Johnson."

"The reason for your call?"

"Someone left a threatening letter attached to a single woman's door with a hunting knife."

"Do you feel safe now?"

Chance scanned the area, already darkened by approaching nightfall. "As far as I can tell."

"Do you have a safe place to wait until the police arrive?"

"Yes." They could move indoors to wait with Daisy and Levi's old shotgun.

"I can stay on the line."

"That won't be necessary, thanks." He clicked the phone off. With a hand on both of Dakota's shoulders, he helped her to a standing position. "Come on, sweetheart. We're gonna wait this out inside."

She wrenched from his grasp, visibly angry, and hurried inside.

He followed, made sure the door was shut securely behind them, and faced her.

Stiff-armed and with both hands clenched into fists, she lit into him with both barrels blazing. "How dare you call the police! Especially after I asked you not to." She paced like a caged animal, raking fingers through her long red curls. "You don't know what they're capable of. What this might mean." Dakota stopped, planted both palms over her face, and began to wail hysterically.

His chest tightened at her anguish, and in two steps he was by her side and took her in his arms. "Shh, it's okay. I won't let anyone hurt you."

"You don't understand." Dakota sobbed softly for a moment, her palms hot and sweaty against his shirt, then yanked herself from his arms, her hands swatting at tears, her breaths coming in short, shallow bursts. "Okay, think Dakota." She began to pace again, talking to herself under her breath.

His own panic escalated. Never had he seen her like this, like a wild animal on full alert. "Why are you acting this way?"

She shot him a look that told him exactly what she thought of him and his question and finished it off with a derisive laugh. "Trust me, you don't want to know. Besides, don't you realize that whatever I say to you puts you in danger?"

Danger? He frowned and cast his gaze to the floor in deep contemplation. What had she endured? What kind of trouble had she gotten herself into during the past few years? And if he'd been on time that night of the wreck, could he have prevented her from leaving? In some dark, twisted way, her dangerous situation was all his fault. Would she ever forgive him? "So you know who left the note?"

Across the room, Dakota nodded, then doubled over, hands on knees, gasping for air.

Chance hurried to her and laid an arm across her back. "You okay?"

"Just...a little...dizzy...can't...catch a...breath."

He knelt in front of her to force her to look at him and to check the color of her face. Pale and sweaty. Her eyes cloudy. "Listen to me, Dakota. I want you to concentrate on taking deep, slow breaths."

She nodded, her lips tinged in blue. Following his instructions, she opened her mouth wide like a fish and sucked in a deep breath.

"Okay, hold it, and let it out slowly."

Once more she complied.

"Good girl. Keep up the deep breathing."

After a couple of minutes she raised to a standing position, her color much better.

Chance guided her to the couch. "C'mon. You need to sit." He swallowed hard, knowing she wouldn't take kindly to what he was about to ask. "What all have you had to eat today?'

"A bowl of cereal and a slice of pizza."

Now it was his turn to take a deep breath and release it slowly, not because he felt faint, but in an effort to control his anger and ensuing censure. Best to approach this topic with gloves on. "And the other day at B&B Hardware? Had you eaten anything?"

She twisted her head slowly from side to side.

He sent a soft smile, praying she'd see his concern rather than a scolding. "That explains these dizzy spells you're having. Your blood sugar plummets without food, and in a stressful situation it'll be worse."

Dakota nodded, but didn't reply, completely zoned out, her gaze locked on nothing but thin air.

Had she heard one word he'd said, or was she back in the stress zone, her thoughts on the note? "Did you hear me?"

"Oh. Yeah. Sorry."

"Promise me you'll take time away from working to eat?" Somehow he had to find a way to break her junk food habit, before those arteries of hers turned to baling wire.

She nodded, a close-lipped smile on her still-pale face. "I'll try."

"Good."

Sirens pierced the silence. Chance stepped out onto the porch as Ernie's car followed by a Sherriff's car plowed up a cloud of dust down the driveway.

Carter climbed from the car first and made quick strides toward him. "Everyone okay?"

Chance nodded. "Just a little shaken up."

"What happened?" Ernie strode toward him, his enormous moustache twitching, two Sherriff's deputies right on his heels.

"We got out here a few minutes after five and found this on the door." He stepped out of the way to reveal the note and knife.

All four guys quickly scaled the steps and gathered around the knife-penned note.

"Man, that is one serious knife." One of the Sherriff's deputies moved in closer, careful not to touch anything. "And brand new by the looks of it."

Carter nodded, his face grim. "And expensive. This is a military knife with DLC coating. About three hundred and fifty bucks."

Chance frowned. "DLC?"

"Diamond-like carbon. Practically indestructible. Razor sharp. Will cut through metal like it's paper."

A slow shudder traveled down Chance's spine, suddenly thankful for the electrical problems that had kept Dakota away from the farm all day. What if she'd been here?

Ernie's bushy eyebrows matched his pinched moustache. "Whoever did this means business."

Chance's heart rate went on a rapid-rise climb. No wonder Dakota had gotten so panicky. She, better than anyone, realized the danger, because she knew the person responsible.

"I'll go get gloves and bags," offered one of the deputies. He clomped down the steps toward the parked car.

Chance turned to Ernie. "How long before we hear back on possible evidence?"

Ernie shook his balding head. "This is technically out of our jurisdiction. We came because of you and Dakota. But it can take awhile." He released a short puff of air, condensation curling into the cold night air. "I'm guessing they won't turn up much." He looked back at the knife. "This guy knows what he's doing."

The other deputy caught Chance's attention. "So there's a young lady involved?"

"Yeah. This is her house." Funny how easily the words slipped from his lips when it was technically his house, too. "She's inside."

"I'm going to need to question her."

"Yeah? Well good luck with that." Chance entered the house, Carter, Ernie, and one of the deputies right behind him. "Dakota?" The living room was empty. Maybe she'd gone to the bathroom. He hurried down the hall, still calling her name.

Long claws raked across his heart at the empty bathroom. Where was she? Upstairs, maybe? He took the steps two at a time. "Dakota?" Daisy's whimper sounded from the far bedroom. He hurried to the door and knocked. "Dakota? Are you in there?" No sound other than Daisy's whine and scratching on the door. He turned the knob. Daisy immediately rushed past him and down the stairs, then rounded the corner toward the kitchen and the back door, her claws slipping against the newly-finished floors. Chance followed at full speed, the others with him.

Daisy whined and scratched her feet against the kitchen floor directly in front of the back door in an effort to dig her way out if need be to get to Dakota.

Chance's heart fell to his feet. Had she run away again? Or even worse, had the person who left the note nabbed her?

* * *

Shivering, partly from cold and partly from the fear that snaked throughout her entire being, Dakota half-ran, half-walked away from the farmhouse, the moonless night making it difficult to see even her lily-white hand in front of her face. A darkness she welcomed, since it also provided much-needed cover.