Kidnapped At Christmas

She dropped into a chair as the sudden joy she’d been feeling evaporated just as quickly. “Yeah, me too.”

“So, I’m guessing whoever did this to you wanted to get your boss’s attention and didn’t know Olivia wouldn’t be here. Did she have you working on anything dangerous?”

“I see pretty much every story before it goes to the press,” she said, “and I fact-check all the big ones. I’m like the factual safety net for our front-line reporters. It’s my job to comb through each article and circle every fact with a red pen that a reader might question, just to make sure our backs are covered. Of course, our reporters write about everything. But in my job, almost everything I work on involves something criminal. I even built what they call an ‘intranet’ database, called ATHENA, that pulls all of our stories and background research together in one place on our online server, where only Torchlight reporters can see it. It even includes pointers on understanding human behavior, criminal pathology and body language to help reporters figure out whether or not the people they’re interviewing are telling the truth. It’s like a simplified version of the ways police detectives learn to analyze criminal traits.”

But what would police make of her inability to remember how she’d even gotten there? She couldn’t remember a single thing about how or where they’d grabbed her.

It had been the same back in college when that guy from her floor had broken in. She’d barely remembered anything afterwards. And while they’d eventually caught the culprit and he’d admitted to being high at the time, thanks to her faulty memory they’d only given him a slap on the wrist. She’d been forced to switch schools and start over.

Then, the nightmares had started.

Joshua pulled his right hand out of his pocket. There was something gold and glittering between his fingers. It was a ribbon. And with a start she realized it must’ve been the same one that her abductor had gagged her with. He looked at it carefully, holding it by the very edges.

“If you were on your way to work, it’s entirely possible they were after any Torchlight staff they could get their hands on, and you just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time,” he said. “But it’s also entirely possible this has nothing to do with the newspaper you work for and someone tried to abduct you for a completely different reason. Does this mean anything to you?”

He laid the ribbon over the table in front of her and for the first time she saw blurred streaks of what looked like Magic Marker. Between the snow and the struggle whatever had been written on the ribbon was smudged beyond recognition, except for the last two words:

always,

Magpie.

His eyebrow rose. He didn’t even have to ask the question.

“I have never heard of Magpie.” She could feel her lower lip quivering but it was more from frustration than fear. She should know. If there was someone out there upset enough at Torchlight’s reporting to abduct and threaten one of their journalists, she was exactly the one person who should already have a whole file of stories and research on them in the ATHENA database. “I have no idea who or what that is.”

“Neither have I,” he said. “Someone twisted enough to kidnap a woman and plant a land mine under her doesn’t just spring up out of nowhere. Is there anyone else you can think of who’d want to hurt you? Work situation? Family? Relationships?”

“My parents are retired and live in Montreal. They’re pretty awesome people and I can’t think of any reason why anyone would want to hurt them.” Tension pulled along her shoulder blades. She could tell he was probably trying to help but sorting out her own mind was hard enough without having someone firing questions at her. “Work is great, really. I’m probably what some people would call workaholic, but to me that’s a good thing.”

“A land mine is a very specific weapon,” he said, “and using the Christmas ribbon was very specific, as well. Someone was clearly trying to send a message. Any other problematic relationships?”

“No. No relationship problems.” Unless someone counted the fact she got completely tongue-tied every time she tried to explain to Eric that she just wasn’t hotwired to spend that much time with an enthusiastic extrovert. “Really, I’m just a happy, quiet workaholic with no enemies.”

Except the dangerous and unknown Magpie. Why don’t I know who that is?

There was a knock on the door frame. She turned. It was Alex. He glanced down at the ribbon warning lying on the table. “Sorry to interrupt. Zoe got through to the police. They’ve asked us all to stay put and to please try to keep from talking to each other about what happened until we’ve all been interviewed separately by police. I’m guessing they don’t want us colluding on one version of events or getting our stories muddied. Even accidentally.”

Yeah, that was pretty standard for police investigations.

“Thank you,” she said, finding the words totally inadequate for the situation.

“We’ve figured out Samantha’s connection to the Ashes,” Joshua said. “Samantha works for Olivia at Torchlight News. We should call Daniel and Olivia too and let them know what’s going on.”

“Good idea.” Alex sat down beside Samantha. “How are you feeling?”

“Bit shaken, but not bad. Thankfully, I wasn’t out in the cold that long before Joshua found me.”

“Can you hold out your hands for me?” Alex carefully checked her hands for frostbite. Then he slid a small flashlight out of his pocket and checked her eyes. “Any headache? Nausea?”

“No.”

Alex ran one finger slowly back and forth a few inches in front of her eyes. She followed it with her gaze. “Stomach upset? Double vision?”

“No. I’m rattled, obviously, but physically I feel fine.”

“How’s your memory?” Joshua asked. “Any short-term amnesia? Memory gaps?”

Her brain froze as she turned to look at him. Why had he asked that? Those hazel-green eyes were focused intensely onto hers. A dozen thoughts cascaded through her mind that she couldn’t figure out how exactly to turn into words.

Yes, I’m having memory gaps. Everything between the moment I realized I’d forgotten my gloves and almost arriving here in the van is a blur. It’s frustrating. It’s terrifying. The same thing happened years ago, after someone broke into my dorm room, and it was like I could only remember it in the nightmares which plagued me for months.

She broke his gaze and look down at the table. “Yes, and I know we shouldn’t talk about the details of how I was abducted or anything that’s happened until the police have questioned us. But I won’t lie. My memory is really patchy. Like I said, I don’t know how I got here.”

There was a long pause and an ache in her chest, like something inside her heart had started to open just a bit, and she was waiting for it to clang shut again.

She hadn’t admitted having memory gaps to anyone for a very long time. Not since she’d tried to report the attack in college to some very unsympathetic people in campus security.

But the very fact Joshua had asked gave her the faint hope that he might actually get it.

“It happens.” Joshua pushed off the counter. “Don’t worry. I’m sure the police will figure out what’s going on.”

No. He didn’t understand.

* * *

Early-afternoon sunlight glistened off the frost on the corner of the windshield as Joshua steered the car down the tree-lined parkway into downtown Toronto. A vicious snowstorm was scheduled for later, but for now the city seemed to sparkle in the sun. He glanced sideways at Samantha. Her face was turned toward the passenger-side window. His borrowed leather jacket enveloped her body. Something inside him ached to ask her what she was thinking.

They’d both talked briefly to Daniel and Olivia on the phone and then the police had arrived at the farmhouse before they’d even finished breakfast. Four vehicles and six officers, including a forensics team. They’d quickly taken over, questioning each of them privately and going through the scene, until finally they’d given Samantha permission to go home and allowed the others to replace the glass in the window and nail some boards over the hole in the porch.

It had been an odd, unsettling experience, standing on the sidelines, watching people in uniform do their thing. Between his training and his military service, he was used to being in the thick of it. He was comfortable there. Dad had always been a cop and had no plans to retire. Gramps had served in the military. Both had instilled in him a deep respect for authority and a strong sense of duty. It had been pretty clear by the time he reached high school that he was expected to follow in either one man’s footsteps or the other.

He didn’t imagine Gramps would’ve thought much of Ash Private Security or Daniel hiring Alex and Zoe as bodyguards. In fact, he pretty much knew what Gramps would’ve said: So, instead of having a real job, your friends are just gonna run around and play at being cops? I suppose now you’re gonna want to quit your job and join them?

Gramps had never thought much of Alex, and Joshua couldn’t even guess what he’d say about tiny, feisty Zoe protecting someone. It wasn’t that Gramps didn’t respect women. He just believed they needed caring for, and had cared deeply for the ones in his own life—and so he had been devastated when his wife had died in a traffic accident when Joshua’s dad was small. That pain had only compounded when Joshua’s dad had grown up to then marry a woman who’d abandoned her husband and child when Josh was just a toddler.

His grandfather’s voice rang in his ears. See, Joshua, losing your heart to a pretty face is always a bad idea. Beautiful women are all flash bang, but no staying power. Go meet a good, decent, steady woman, who’s not too pretty, not too fancy, not in any trouble, and happy with a calm and boring life. Trust me. The human heart is dumber than dirt when it comes to falling in love.

It had been a comfortable drive to the city despite the rambling in his brain. They’d driven more or less in silence. When they’d first gotten into his rental car, the radio had been blaring Silver Media’s early-morning radio show. The host had been loud and grating, like he’d overdosed on caffeine. But Samantha’d instantly leaned over and switched it off, which he was happy for. Since then, the car had been filled with nothing but the rumble of the engine and the tires crunching on the snow-covered road.

“Toronto police recovered my bag, by the way.” Samantha’s voice drew his attention back into the present. “An officer told me, just before they gave me permission to leave. They found it in an alley Dumpster almost halfway between my apartment and work. I also called my landlady Yvonne while you were being questioned and told her police would be stopping by. I gave the police permission to look around my apartment in case they find something there. But considering where they found my bag, police don’t think either my apartment or the office is a crime scene, and it’s most likely I was grabbed off the street. Unless someone kidnapped me elsewhere and threw my bag in a random Dumpster to confuse things.” She ran both hands through her hair. “I should’ve told you earlier, but my brain’s just been so overwhelmed it’s like I couldn’t process the information right away.”

He nodded. “That happens. Sometimes when something big happens on deployment it’s like everyone’s sleepwalking for hours afterwards. Might take days before people are able to start talking about it.”

Of course, most never talked about the hard stuff. No matter how many times they all got reminded that therapists and chaplains were available for a reason.

“I should get my bag back sometime today,” she said, “and still manage to catch a train to Montreal tonight. I was supposed to leave this morning, but the good thing about the train is I’ve got options. As long as I make it to the station by noon tomorrow I’ll make it home for Christmas Eve dinner. How about you? When do you leave?”

“I’m due back on base December twenty-seventh,” he said. “I’m going to spend Christmas morning with Alex and Zoe—probably Daniel, Olivia and the baby too—and then head up to Barrie after lunch for a really late dinner with Dad. He’s a cop and tends to work Christmas, so that the officers with young kids can be home with their families. I’ll take up a big plate of turkey leftovers for him, and we’ll celebrate together after he gets off work.”