Resort at Castaway Bay: Hide and Seek

Book 6: Resort at Castaway Bay

by Kathi Daley

Genres: Craft & Hobby Cozy Mysteries; Culinary Cozy Mysteries

Synopsis

Sydney Whitmore, a forensic psychologist working for the FBI, moves to Shipwreck Island and renews her relationship with Ezra Reinhold, a reclusive billionaire who enjoys poking around in cold cases and has the means to hire the best people to find the answers no one else has been able to.

In book 6 in the series, Syd is asked by the FBI to escort the child of a key witness in a murder trial to a safe house after the US Marshall who'd been watching the child was found dead and the child was found hiding alone in a nearby emergency shelter. The Marshall who'd been watching the child managed to get off a message before he died letting the FBI know that there was a mole within the organization who'd given up their position, so Syd and the child set off on a cross country journey where no one can be trusted and nowhere really feels safe.

Meanwhile it's Christmas on Shipwreck Island and the entire family is involved in seasonal events and activities.

 

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Release date: October 11, 2022

Publisher: Kathi Daley Books

Sample

Chapter 1

 

 

 

“Don’t make a sound,” I whispered into the ear of the nine-year-old crouched down beside me. From the moment Colin Black, my boss at the FBI, had called me seven hours ago and asked for my help, somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew everything was going to come down to a moment such as this.

The girl nodded but didn’t speak. I could see the terror in her eyes as she frantically looked for a way out of the situation the two of us found ourselves trapped in. Things were looking bad, and I knew that the girl was aware enough of the situation to realize that.

“Don’t move until I tell you to move,” I whispered in a stern voice as I realized that she was beginning to twitch and seemed to be looking for a chance to run. The last thing I needed was for the child to panic and give away our position behind the old tractor that likely hadn’t run since the Kennedy administration.

Mila had been through a lot during the past few weeks. I didn’t blame her for wanting to escape the hell that had replaced the happy and carefree life she’d had before her mother had become a target after witnessing the murder of a prominent businessman with ties to an international crime syndicate. “We need to find a place to hide,” I said as I took the girl by the hand and slowly made my way toward an old barn I’d seen when I’d first arrived. I could hear gunshots coming from the house, so chances were Agent Fox from the US Marshals office had the bad guys occupied, at least for the moment.

After scurrying across the open drive with the girl in tow, I opened the barn door just enough to slip through. Entering the structure from the front of the building, I took a minute to survey the situation. It appeared the barn had been turned into an auto shop at some point. Dozens of tires were stacked against one wall, and there were grease stains everywhere. I frantically tried to figure out my next move. I was considering several options when the sound of three rapid shots was followed by total silence. I suspected that one party or the other currently inhabiting the house had silenced their opponent.

“There’s a space under that big dump truck,” the child said. “I found it when I was in here earlier.”

“Space?” I asked.

“A big hole.”

At this point, a hole under a truck that likely didn’t run sounded like as good a hiding place as we’d be able to find.

“Did you see where she went?” a man with an English accent called from a location outside the barn.

“Check the chicken coop,” a man with a high-pitched voice answered.

After putting a finger to my lips, I took the girl’s hand and pulled her across the room. When we reached the dump truck, I got down on my stomach and pulled her under the truck. It appeared as if someone had built a car pit at some point. I wouldn’t say that it was an ideal hiding place, but it would do. My arms tightened around the child, who was shaking with fear as we crouched down in the small trench that was about four feet deep, three feet wide, and six feet long. Tight but workable. I just hoped that anyone looking for the child inside the barn would fail to notice the pit beneath the truck.

“I want my mommy,” she whispered against my chest as we silently waited for the men to either find us or leave.

“I know,” I whispered with my mouth so close to her ear as to make any sort of volume unnecessary. I pulled her close to my chest, held on tight, and willed her to hold out just a bit longer. I’d been called in to guard the child after it was discovered that one of the US Marshals initially assigned to Mila’s protection detail had been compromised. Since it was unclear whether or not other agents had been compromised as well, it was decided that someone from another agency would take over until after the trial. That someone, as it turned out, was me. “My name is Sydney Whitmore,” I whispered in the child’s ear. “I’m with the FBI. I’m going to get both of us out of here. You just need to trust me.”

She nodded. “My name is Mila. I think those men want to kill me. I don’t understand any of this and just want to go home. I want to see my mommy.”

I wished I could do more to assure Mila that she’d see her mother soon, but the reality was that I had no idea when the child and mother might be reunited. Mila’s mother, Maria Moran, had been taken into protective custody after witnessing the murder of a prominent businessman and had been detained at a safe house near the courthouse where she was due to testify in the next few days. It had been decided that Mila would be assigned her own security detail and would be taken to a location elsewhere. Unfortunately, one of the agents delegated to protect the child had been compromised. If not for the quick thinking of Agent Fox, she’d likely have been kidnapped or possibly even murdered.

“I think Agent Fox is dead,” Mila whispered. “There were three of them and only one of her.”

“Yeah, I think you might be right,” I whispered back. I supposed I could try to sugarcoat the situation for the child, but at this point, honesty seemed to be the best way to go. “But we can hope she made it to a safe place,” I added for good measure.

Sally Fox had been one of the original agents tasked with protecting the child. She was a veteran agent with decades of experience and a maternal instinct, which made her the perfect person to provide protection for the young girl. When her partner, an agent with just two years of service under his belt, had been persuaded to reveal their location to men working for the professional hitman on trial, Agent Fox fought off the intruders and escaped with the child. They’d been hiding out in the farmhouse we’d just escaped from until another set of gunmen had shown up minutes ago.

“Do you remember what the three men looked like?” I asked.

“One man was sort of fat. He talked funny. The other man was tall and skinny.”

“And the third man you mentioned?”

“He came with the other men, but he waited in the car, so I didn’t see him until I was running away. He was wearing a suit. I think he was the boss.”

I put a finger to my lips when I heard movement outside the barn. Mila nodded.

“The kid can’t have simply disappeared,” the man with the English accent said.

I supposed this was the man Mila described as fat and talked funny.

“She didn’t come out here,” the man with the high voice answered. “Little kid like that with no one to watch out for her is probably hiding somewhere close by.”

This must be the tall thin man, but I supposed it could also be the man in the suit. I couldn’t see what either man was wearing at this point.

“Yeah. Let’s take another look,” the man with the English accent answered.

I waited quietly as the men continued to talk. I could hear the barn door open. Someone came in. The man who entered the barn didn’t speak, and I couldn’t see his face from my position under the dump truck, but I could see that he was wearing very expensive shoes. Brown leather with gold buckles. Ah, this must be the man wearing the suit, the man in charge. He purposely walked around the perimeter of the building, opening and closing the cabinet doors as he went. After what seemed like an eternity, he left.

“Did you find the child?” the man with the high-pitched voice called out.

“Not yet,” the man with the English accent called back.

“What about the agents who were supposed to be protecting the kid?” the first man called.

“As far as I can tell, there was just the one, and she’s dead.”

I let out a tiny breath when I realized the man hadn’t been aware of my presence. That would play to our advantage.

“Check the house again,” a man with a deep voice said. I figured this must be the man I now thought of as the boss. “If the kid was scared by the gunfire, she’s likely hiding. Look under the beds and in all the closets. She can’t have gotten far.”

“I think they’re leaving,” Mila said.

“I think so too, but if the men don’t find you in the house, they’ll likely search the outbuildings a second time before they leave the property, so we need to get out of here.”

“My leg hurts. I twisted it when we jumped out the window, and I think it might be bleeding.”

I was afraid of that. We’d been trapped on the second floor of the old farmhouse and had few options available to us as the gunfight had played out below us, so I’d taken a chance and shoved the child from the window seconds before I dropped to the ground behind her.

I tried to decide what to do. The child couldn’t run, but if the men who were searching the property decided to return to the barn for a closer look once they realized that Mila wasn’t in any of the other outbuildings, we’d be sitting ducks. The child was small for her age, and I was in pretty good shape, so I figured I could carry her on my back. At least for a while. The farm where Mila had been kept was isolated, so running to a neighbor wasn’t an option. Besides, involving anyone else would likely only get them killed. I had my cell phone, but I was pretty sure it had broken when I’d landed on it after jumping from the window. I had my gun, but there were three of them and only one of me.

“Can you walk?” I asked.

“It hurts, but I can walk.”

I took her hand. “Okay. We really do need to get out of here, so we’re going to crawl out of the pit and slowly make our way to the door at the rear of the barn that opens into a corral backing up to a deeply wooded forest. We need to move quickly but quietly. Don’t say anything until we are well into the woods. Don’t even whisper.”

She nodded.

The poor thing was as white as a sheet. I hated to put Mila through what I knew would be a very intense few minutes, but I didn’t think we had a choice.

“Okay. Let’s go.” I tightened my hold on the small hand tucked into mine and ran. I cringed when I noticed the tears that streamed down the girl’s face as she struggled to keep up with me. I had her firmly by the hand and pulled her along at the quickest pace I felt we could maintain, but if her ankle was sprained or her leg was broken, she must be in a lot of pain. Still, I couldn’t risk carrying her until we made it through the corral and into the cover of the forest.

Once we reached the tree line, I paused. We needed to keep going, but if the girl was in a lot of pain, I could carry her at this point. “Do you want me to carry you?” I asked.

She shook her head. “I’m okay. Let’s just go. I want to get far away from those men.”

I paused for just a moment to study the terrain. It had recently rained, and the trail was muddy. I realized we’d be better off staying off the trail since we’d likely leave footprints. Making our way through dense shrubbery and over rocky outcroppings would be slower and much more difficult, but at least we wouldn’t leave a trail that would be easy to follow. I figured that the men at the farmhouse would try the forest once they had searched everywhere they could think of on the property. It only made sense that if Mila had escaped, which they would soon realize she had, she would have headed for the cover of the trees.

“We’re going to take the hard way out of here,” I said to the child. “It will be slower, but it will make it harder for the men to follow.” I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket to confirm that it had, in fact, been damaged in the fall.

“Can you call someone to help us?” Mila asked.

“I’m afraid my cell phone is broken. I passed a summer camp on the road when I drove in. They’re closed for the season, but they might have a phone we can use. The problem is that the camp is a couple miles back.” I glanced at the girl who stood with her weight on one foot while resting the other. “Are you sure you can walk?”

“I can walk. Let’s get out of here.”

I took the girl’s hand and headed toward an area with enough tree cover that the ground was dry and footprints would be less noticeable. We wove our way through groves of manzanita, thick ground covers, and rocky outcroppings. After we’d been walking for about half an hour, I paused. “The camp where I hope to find a phone is still pretty far from here. Do you need to rest?”

She looked uncertain. “Do you think they followed us?”

I looked around the area, listening for any sound that might indicate that the men had come after us. “I don’t think so. It’s hard to know for certain, but I don’t hear anything. I think it will be fine if we sit down for a minute.”

“Okay,” she said as she dropped to the ground.

“Maybe I should take a look at your leg.”

“It’s okay. I don’t want to stay here long. The men will find us if we stay here.”

“They might try to find us, but we were smart and took a route that will be hard to follow.”

She looked me up and down. “How did you find us? Agent Fox and me. Did you know the bad men were coming?”

“My boss told me to go to the farmhouse and help Agent Fox. I don’t think he knew the men were going to be there.” Or had he, I found myself wondering. “The men were already there when I arrived. I don’t think they knew I was there, which is likely why we were able to get away.”

A huge tear hovered at the corner of her eye before sliding down her cheek. “They killed Agent Fox.”

“I know, sweetheart. I know she’s been taking care of you.”

She swiped at her face. “She was nice to me. The only one who was really nice. She told me she’d take care of me. She told me that she’d keep me safe and I should trust her. She died trying to protect me.”

I reached out and pulled the child into my arms. Agent Fox had been with her for over a week. I was sure the pair had formed a close attachment. I knew how it was when you were in a life-and-death situation. Those you choose to trust, you trust with all your soul.

After a few minutes, Mila rubbed her dirty face with equally dirty hands. “We should go.”

“We should.” I tilted my head toward the sky, noticing how dark it had become for the first time. “It looks like rain. We should probably hurry.” I stood up and pulled the child to her feet. I couldn’t help but notice the wince when she put even a little weight on her leg. I really needed to get help, and I needed to get it fast, but I couldn’t just leave her here, and she could only travel so fast. “I can carry you on my back,” I offered once again.

“I’m okay. I just want to get somewhere very far away from here.”

I took her hand in mine. “Okay. We’ll keep moving, but we can stop and rest anytime you want to.”

“She had a daughter,” Mila said as we began to walk.

I looked back at her. “Daughter?”

“Agent Fox. She had a daughter. Her daughter is all grown up, and she’s going to have a baby in the spring. Agent Fox talked to me about going to visit her after the trial was over.” Tears started down her cheeks once again. “I guess she’ll never know if her grandbaby is a boy or a girl.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to push down my own emotion. Emotion had no place in our current circumstances. I knew I needed to stay focused on what was ahead of us rather than worrying about what was behind us, and it was better to think of Agent Fox as a faceless agent and not necessarily a person at this point. But now that Mila had shared a bit about her life, all I could think about was the sweet older woman on the verge of retirement who’d never have the chance to be a grandmother.

Thunder rumbled in the distance. “We need to go,” I said once again.

“I don’t like storms.”

“Yeah, me neither.” I began to walk forward as the first raindrops fell from the sky. “I guess we should look for shelter.” A bolt of lightning flashed across the sky just overhead less than five seconds after I commented about the rain.

“I don’t like this,” Mila said as tears began streaming down her face again. “Lightning frightens me.”

I knelt down and pulled her close to my body. “I agree. We really do need to find a place to wait out the storm. It looks like it’s going to get worse.”

Another flash of lightning, followed almost immediately by a clap of thunder loud enough to make the ground shake, convinced me that we didn’t have time to wait. A quick survey of the area revealed dense forest that would provide little protection, but a shallow cavern had been created by large rocks that had settled over time to form a shelter of sorts. It was about a hundred feet up the rocky ledge, but it was all I could find, so as the rain began to intensify, I helped Mila climb up to the opening and then instructed her to climb inside.

“It’s too loud,” she shouted as another clap of thunder rumbled across the landscape.

“We’ll be okay in here.” I sat down on the floor of the little shelter and pulled the girl onto my lap. I wrapped my arms around her as she trembled and cried. “Everything is going to be fine. I won’t let anything happen to you.” I supposed that it was a good thing we were up so high. At least we wouldn’t have to worry about flooding.

“It’s too close.” She buried her face in my chest as the sky opened up and sheets of moisture fell to the ground. “It’s going to hit us or maybe start a fire.”

“It won’t,” I said, hoping that was true. I held Mila as tightly as I could. I closed my eyes and gently rocked her as I stroked her hair. We both jumped as a bolt of lightning hit a tree not far from where we were hiding, lighting up the sky as thunder exploded around us. I continued to whisper encouragement to Mila as the storm raged outside.

“When I’m scared, I think of a positive memory,” I said to the child. “For me, it would be the time my sisters and I went camping with our parents. I was only nine, so I don’t remember everything, but I do remember sitting by the lake, skipping stones on the water with my dad as the sun began to descend for the day.” The reality was that the camping trip was the last memory of my family being together since my parents were killed in an auto accident not all that long after.

“Didn’t your mom sit with you?” Mila asked.

“She was back at the camp with my sisters. I guess Emily must have been five that summer, but my baby sister, Rory, was only one.” I smiled at the memory that had been played over in my mind so many times that it felt clearer than any other memory from my youth. “Emily didn’t like the bugs, and Rory kept eating dirt, so I think Mom had her hands full, but Dad and I had the best time. We fished and tooled around in an old rowboat that Dad had picked up at a garage sale. It was one of the best times of my life.”

“My dad died when I was a baby,” Mila said. “I don’t remember him. My mom showed me pictures, but in a way, he doesn’t feel like a real person.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that.”

She shrugged. “It’s okay. You don’t really miss what you don’t remember having. It’s just been Mom and me this whole time. We’re a team. She has to be okay.”

“I’m sure she will be.” I stroked the girl’s hair. “She has a whole bunch of people watching out for her, and once she’s testified, I’m sure she’ll want to do something fun. We should plan something.”

“My mom works a lot, but she likes to go to the park when she isn’t at work. We take a picnic and watch all the joggers run by.”

“That sounds fun,” I said. “I like to feed the ducks.”

She pulled back and looked at me, shock evident on her face. “You aren’t supposed to feed the ducks. There are signs and everything.”

She went on to tell me a funny story about the ducks at the park she and her mother visited who had chased a woman with a bag full of bread right into the water. Eventually, the thunder and lightning moved on, and while it could be heard in the distance, it was no longer overhead. “I think the storm is beginning to move past,” I said.

Mila nodded, moved off my lap, and settled on the ground next to me.

“How’s your leg?” I asked.

“It hurts. I was so scared that I barely even felt it, but now that we’re safe for a while, it’s starting to hurt bad.”

I ran my hand over the pant leg covering her shin and ankle. “Where does it hurt the most?” I asked.

She pointed to a spot just above her ankle.

I rolled up her pant leg and gasped when I noticed the large gash that had bled at one point but had since clotted. I was afraid the leg might be fractured, but I was even more concerned about the nasty cut. An infection could be deadly. I needed to get medical attention for the child, but we were still at least a mile from the camp, and Mila really shouldn’t be walking. I considered looking for someone closer. Maybe there was a farm in the area, and if there was, perhaps they’d have a phone. The problem was I had no idea who to trust. Someone fairly high up the food chain within the US Marshals organization had turned out to be a mole, and therefore it seemed unwise for Mila and me to trust anyone.

And even if I found a phone, then what? The man Mila’s mother was set to testify against had connections all over the world. Powerful connections. My instinct told me that checking into a hospital or even locating a clinic would only serve to lead the bad men to our location.

“How did you know where to find me?” Mila asked as the rain continued to pelt the landscape outside our shelter.

“I work for the FBI. My boss called and asked me to help keep an eye on you. I had the address and had just arrived when I noticed the black car in the drive. I snuck around to the back and climbed up to the second story. I had my gun and was going to try to help Agent Fox when I heard shots being fired. I was about to head toward the stairs when you came running into the bedroom. I didn’t really have time to think. I just grabbed you and tossed you out the window before jumping out. I’m sorry I hurt your leg.”

She rubbed her leg, wincing as she did so. “That’s okay. I know you did what you had to do. Everyone is doing what they have to do. My mom. Agent Fox. Agent Dover. But I don’t like it. I just want to go home.”

“I know, sweetheart.”

I opened my arms, and the child snuggled up next to me. When I noticed the car that shouldn’t have been in the drive, I parked down the road and snuck up to the farmhouse on foot. It wouldn’t take the men long to find the car, however. The old farmhouse was in an isolated location, so it wasn’t like it was common to find strange cars parked on the side of the road. Thankfully, the FBI had rented me a car using Colin’s name. It was waiting at the airport when I arrived in Colorado that morning, so there was no way they could trace the car back to me. Still, when they found the car, they were going to realize that Agent Fox wasn’t the only agent on the property, so there would be people looking for an adult with a child.

I glanced out at the pouring rain. “It looks like we’ll be here for a while. Why don’t you tell me what has been going on to this point?” I asked as I pulled my sweatshirt off and then tore a sleeve from the long sleeve t-shirt I had on beneath it. The sleeve wasn’t the ideal bandage, but it would do for now since it was all we had.

She hesitated.

“How about I start you off,” I said as I began to wrap the wound.

She just looked at me.

“I know that a very bad man named Devon Hildebrandt shot and killed a man named Favian Holland. I know that your mom was working late and saw what happened. Devon Hildebrandt is in jail awaiting trial, and the entire case against the bad man involves your mother’s eyewitness testimony, so she, along with you, has been put into protective custody.”

“Agent Dover, Agent Marx, and Agent Fox were supposed to take care of me, but Agent Marx was working for the bad men, and they came to the house, and Marx killed Agent Dover. Agent Fox got me away from the first house and brought me to the farmhouse where you found me. Agent Fox said that someone was coming to help us. I guess that was you,” she added.

“It was me, but I can’t figure out how the bad men found you again. The only people who knew your location were Agent Fox, my boss, Colin Black, maybe Colin’s boss, and me.”

“Do you think the bad men will come again?” Mila asked.

“I don’t know,” I answered, wondering who I could and should trust. I’d worked for Colin for a long time and had no reason not to trust him, but he was one of the very few people who knew where Mila was being held. I supposed Colin might have told someone he trusted, such as a superior or fellow agent. And I imagined it was possible that person might have passed the information along, or that person might have been as dirty as Agent Marx.

“Who was at the house when the bad men came the first time?” I asked.

“Agent Fox, Agent Marx, and Agent Dover. Agent Marx let them in. When Agent Dover said something about it, Agent Marx shot him. Agent Fox came and got me and took me out the back door. We ran and ran, and then after a while, Agent Fox called someone who came and picked us up and took us to the farm.”

So, whoever Agent Fox called also knew where they’d been hiding. “Do you remember who picked you up and took you to the farm?”

She shook her head. “I don’t remember his name. Agent Fox said it, but I was so scared that I wasn’t listening.”

“What did he look like?”

“He was tall.”

“Okay, so what color hair did he have?”

“Black.”

“And what did he have on?”

“He was wearing black pants and a white shirt.”

“Did he stay after you got to the farm?” I asked.

“No. The man drove us there and then left. Agent Fox said that we would be safe there and that someone was going to come and help us, but we weren’t safe there.” She began to cry again.

I pulled the girl back onto my lap and began to stroke her hair. I hadn’t been thrilled with the rain when it had initially arrived, but I realized that not only had the downpour afforded me a chance to think, it had likely washed away any footprints we might have left behind.

After a while, Mila fell asleep, so I slipped my sweatshirt back on and covered her with my jacket. She’d been wearing a long sleeve shirt and a sweatshirt when I’d shoved her out the window, but both had gotten wet when the rain started. I didn’t have anything dry to change her into, but as she slept on the cold hard ground, I realized that getting her into something dry needed to be a priority.

“Okay, what now?” I mumbled to myself as I tried to assess the situation. I was in the middle of the forest with a nine-year-old who seemed to have a bunch of people willing to take huge risks to get to her. I had to assume they wanted the girl alive. She had value as a bargaining chip to convince her mother not to testify as she currently planned to do, but killing her wouldn’t seem to serve any purpose I could think of. I supposed the fact that the men who were after us wanted her alive and not dead was something, although there was no doubt in my mind that they’d shoot me without a second thought should I prove to be an obstacle to them getting what they wanted.

At this point, I didn’t consider our biggest problem to be the men who were after us since they’d likely retreated to the farmhouse when the storm hit. I decided that our biggest problem was based on our altitude and the time of year since it would probably dip below freezing in a few hours. I knew I needed to start a fire to warm Mila up. I supposed there was some risk that smoke from the fire might be seen, but with the steady rain, that seemed somewhat unlikely. There were branches stacked near the back of the overhang from the many shrubs that grew in the area. I imagined that someone had the same idea of building a fire at some point in the past. Of course, I had no matches, but I did have a gun. I’d seen a movie where a hunter started a fire by emptying the gunpowder from the bullet and then creating a spark to ignite the gunpowder. It seemed like a risky thing to do, but letting the child freeze to death didn’t seem a better choice, so I used my pocketknife to open a bullet, and then I used the dry branches as kindling to ignite a few of the larger branches and then put my plan into play. Amazingly it worked.

“What are you doing?” Mila asked after she sat up.

“I’m sorry I woke you, but I realized we needed to get warmed up. When the rain started, I had a waterproof jacket on, but you’re soaked through.”

“I am cold,” she admitted.

“I want you to take your wet clothes off and put your arms through my jacket. Zip it up so that your legs are covered. Hopefully, we can dry your clothes out a bit before we need to move on.”

The girl did as I asked. My jacket was huge on her, but it was heavy and dry, so hopefully, she’d be warm.

“It’s still raining,” the girl said after she’d taken her sweatshirt, t-shirt, and jeans off and then wrapped herself in the jacket.

“It is, and I was worried about that at first, but then I realized the rain would wash away any trail we may have left behind, so, in a way, the rain turned out to be a good thing.”

“So now they won’t be able to find us.”

“Yes. That’s exactly what I’m hoping,” I said, although I was somewhat worried about the smoke from our little fire.

“Are we going to stay here until the rain stops?” she asked.

I looked out toward the dark sky. “I think we need to stay here until morning. I’m unfamiliar with this area, so I’m not sure what other structures might be nearby. While it won’t be fun to sleep in this little rock shelter, between the rain and your leg, it’s really our best option.”

“I’m okay,” she said. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

“That’s very brave of you.”

“My mom made me promise to be brave.” A tear slid down her cheek. “She said we both needed to be brave and do the right thing. She needs to tell what she saw so that no one else dies.”

My heart went out to this young girl. I doubted that she understood the risk her mother was taking, but I had to admire her desire to be brave as she promised she would.

“When we get out of here, I’m going to eat a huge stack of pancakes,” I said.

“With butter and syrup?”

“Of course. And berries. Maybe blueberries or strawberries. Of course, it isn’t berry season, so maybe I’ll have to make do with jam.”

“I like chocolate chips on mine.” She actually smiled. “And whipped cream.”

“That sounds good as well.” I wasn’t sure that talking about food when we had no food was the best idea, but I wanted to try to take Mila’s mind off the situation we were in, and pancakes were the first thing that came to mind. “My aunt, Charley, makes Swedish pancakes with lingonberries and whip cream for special occasions like Christmas and sometimes Thanksgiving. The berries are tart and really good.”

The girl swiped at a tear that trailed down her face. “It’s almost Christmas. Do you think my mom and I will be together again by then?”

It was just a week until Christmas, so I wasn’t sure Mila and her mother would be reunited by then. I doubted the courts were even in session, although, given the situation, they may have made an exception to secure Maria Moran’s eyewitness testimony in the shortest time possible. “I’m not sure what sort of timeline the courts are looking at,” I answered honestly. “But I assure you I’m going to stay with you until you are safe. If your mom isn’t able to join us, we’ll figure out a way to make our own special holiday.”

“It won’t be the same.”

“No,” I agreed. “It won’t, but sometimes different can be fun as well. I remember one Christmas I was stuck in New Hampshire, trying to coax suppressed memories out of a very important witness in a murder investigation and wouldn’t be able to get home to Shipwreck Island, where my family had gathered. I thought it was going to be so depressing not to be home for the holidays, but I could see that the other agent I was with was feeling homesick as well, so I suggested we make special homemade gifts for each other. I’m not very creative and had no idea what I would make, but I am a good writer, so I wrote the other agent a Christmas story about two elves who were away from home at Christmas.”

She smiled. “That sounds fun. Will you tell me the story?”

I snuggled her even closer. “I will. At least as much of it as I can remember. It all started when Jingles and Jangles were sent by Santa on a special mission.”