(2012) Sleepwalker by Karen Robards

Author:Karen Robards [Robards, Karen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General, Romance, Fiction, Contemporary, Suspense
ISBN: 9781439183731
Publisher: Pocket Books
Published: 2012-07-23T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter

15

“Help! Over here!” Mick screamed as she made a series of frantic bobbing movements designed to attract attention. Screaming felt wrong in this hushed, isolated environment. She hated even thinking about the possibility that there might be any other searchers near enough to hear. But it was a chance she had to take. Having made that decision, she embraced it with vigor, jumping up and down and yelling like her life depended on it, which, in a backward kind of way, it did.

“Help! Somebody help!”

Good God, what if they didn’t spot her? Having reached the lake, the snowmobile had already turned around and was heading back the way it had come, clearly oblivious to her efforts to attract attention. It was moving slowly. She thought, from what she could see of the movements of the riders, that they were conducting a visual sweep of the forest. But so far, they had neither seen nor heard her.

“Over here, you idiots! Over here!” Screeching loudly enough to hurt her throat, her breath forming white puffs in the cold winter air, Mick jumped up and down like a demented bunny. The tree at her back felt hard against her spine even through the layers of her clothing. With her eyes fixed on the snowmobile, she knew the moment they saw her. Both the driver and the passenger sat up straighter, and the vehicle spurted briefly forward, as if the driver’s hand had accidentally tightened on the throttle. Then the snowmobile turned her way and hit the gas. Roaring with power, the big white craft caught air as it left the gravel road. Rocketing toward her, it was distinguishable from the acres of snow surrounding it only by its black handlebars and the bright red stripes on its sides. She still didn’t recognize the men on board: their full ski masks and bulky winter clothes made it impossible. But they were coming, and coming fast, and that was the important thing.

“Hurry,” she called to them as the snowmobile fishtailed to a halt in front of the stand of trees surrounding her with a spray of fine snow. Facing her would-be rescuers, her arms pulled backward around the slender aspen, her freezing hands clasped, her wrists cuffed together, she presented the perfect picture of the discarded hostage. She hoped.

“Mick!” The guy on the back jumped off as the driver cut the engine. Despite the full-face black ski mask and the bulky blue ski jacket and pants he wore, she recognized him instantly: Bobby Tobe. There was no mistaking the voice, or his stoop-shouldered, thin build. She felt a little frisson of relief—no matter what kind of danger her brain told her she was in, Tobe just didn’t feel like a threat—that was immediately canceled out by the near certainty that she didn’t know the other guy.

“Are you okay?” Tobe asked, leaping toward her through drifts that in places reached halfway to his knees. As she had hoped, Tobe hadn’t bothered to draw his weapon.

“I’m so cold,” Mick moaned, improvising wildly.

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