White Ginger

chapter 17



It was clear they were now in a race for life or death; once more Amelie was in danger because of him. Whitburn would be desperate.

The three men sprinted for the police jeep. Seconds counted. They tore up the bitumen in the direction taken by Tom’s van, three pairs of eyes anxiously scanning the road ahead and to the side. As they topped one of the innumerable rises in the hilly terrain out of town, Ray yelled, “There. To the left. Taillights.”

Arne clutched the seat belt. “That leads up the mountain. What the hell is he planning?”

Jeff grabbed his radio. “Keith, this is Jeff. Come in, Keith.”

When the controller responded, Jeff requested backup and demanded that the search and rescue helicopter be deployed immediately.

The van was parked in the picnic area beside the entry to the steep trail. It was empty.

What has Whitburn done with Amelie? Is he crazy?

Arne removed a rifle from the under seat locker.

Jeff put a restraining hand on his shoulder. “Back-up will be here soon, Arne. Wait.”

“Would you wait if that was Mary up there?”

Jeff looked at him for a moment, then dropped his hand. “I’d be mighty appreciative if you didn’t kill him, Arne. Not tonight.”

Grimly, Arne nodded once. Would he be in time to save her? How many times could he be lucky? With feet as heavy as lead, he ran powerfully along the trail toward the summit.

* * * *

Amelie’s head pounded, and her vision was blurry. She was being jounced along a rough track and the world was upside down, the moon where her feet should be, gravel above her head. Gradually she realized Tom had slung her over his shoulder. They were climbing. Where in heaven’s name were they?

Panting with the exertion of carrying her weight, Tom moved with surprising speed. He would have to cover his tracks. Kidnapping was a serious offence.

Attempted murder’s worse.

Maybe he planned to silence her forever… A chill ran down her spine.

Oh, Arne, I never told you I love you. Why had she left it so long? Her reluctance seemed ridiculous now. It couldn’t be too late. She wouldn’t let it. She had to be able to do something.

Even though her head throbbed, she knew she had to play possum, as she had in childhood games of hide and seek. There was a slim chance Tom drop his guard if he thought she was out cold.

He panted heavily and sweat rubbed through his loose shirt onto her cheek. She crinkled her nose and breathed through her mouth. A loose stone rolled noisily down the track and he fell on one knee.

Is he getting tired? Focus, Amelie. Look for a weapon.

His hold on her loosened then he dropped her on the track.

Opening her eyes to a slit, she peered at his bowed head. He leaned one arm on his bent knee and the sound of his ragged panting filled the night. Groping on his blind side, her fingertips touched a good-sized rock. Slowly, she stretched her muscles until her fingers closed around it.

When his breathing slowed a little, Tom picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder. She hung loose, armed with a weapon and a prayer.

They were approaching a low summit. Even upside down, she recognized it from her earlier trip to the volcano. Was he planning on throwing her into the crater! Oh God, why hadn’t she played dumb when she noticed his paint-stained tattoo? She could have alerted Jeff and Arne and had Tom arrested there and then.

A rock bounced off the trail below. Was someone following them? Had Arne worked out what happened? Was he coming to her rescue?

Tom must have heard it too. He dropped her against a granite boulder and spun around, catlike, to face the trail they’d climbed. As his attention fixed on the path, his weight shifted to spring on whoever appeared.

Amelie edged forward. Raising her arm high, she brought the rock down hard, crashing into Tom’s skull. The effort of her blow pitched both of them forward onto the rocky path.

* * * *

Arne rounded the bend. Tom was staggering to his feet and Amelie was on all fours beside him. She was moving, thank God. Dropping the rifle, Arne lunged forward and threw a punishing left uppercut to Tom’s jaw. As he staggered back, Arne grabbed his shirt and hauled him into a right cross that flattened him. The full force of his fear for Amelie lay behind the blow. Tom lay unmoving.

As an anticlimax, the search and rescue helicopter searchlight pinpointed them in its beam. Jeff and Ray must be close behind on the trail. Turning his back on Tom’s slumped figure, Arne dropped to his knees beside Amelie. Wrapping her in his arms, he rested her head on his shoulder.

“My darling, Amelie, can you hear me? Amelie, my love.”

He couldn’t live without her, and he’d nearly lost her, again. Hand shaking, he stroked her hair, her face. When she recovered, he would tell her, beg her to let him look after her. Ask her to be his wife.

Why hasn’t she said anything?

Carefully, he searched for injuries. Easing his fingers through her hair, he touched a lump and she moaned. What had the bastard done to her? She needed a doctor. Above them, the helicopter rescue team would be lowering a basket.

“Arne?” With the noise of the helicopter’s rotors thumping overhead, he saw rather than heard her speak.

“Yes, darling. I’m here.” Now was not the time to be declaring himself. He lightly kissed her forehead.

He bent close, trying to hear her above the whirr of the chopper. Dust flew around them and he bent over to protect her from the worst of it.

“Arne, I didn’t tell you…”

Jeff and Ray were beside him, guiding the paramedic. The basket swung wildly as the wind increased.

He touched a finger to her lips. “Sshh. I’ll be right back.”

Carefully, Arne set Amelie down with her back resting against the boulder then helped load Whitburn into the basket. Jeff handcuffed his prisoner’s hands to the metal railing. The paramedic looked across at Amelie. “We’ll send the basket back down for her.”

“Negative. I’ll carry her down to the picnic area. It will be easier to land there. The wind’s getting too strong.”

“Okay. This one’s going to get a rough ride. See you shortly.” The paramedic gave the lift-up signal and the chopper ascended, basket swirling with its unconscious load.

Jeff picked up the fallen rifle and put a hand on Arne’s shoulder. “Glad you didn’t use this, buddy.”

Arne met his relieved gaze. “It felt a whole lot more satisfying with my fists. I guess we’re all cavemen when it comes to protecting our own.”

“Do you want a hand with Amelie?”

“No. We’ll manage.” Tenderly, he draped her arms loosely around his neck, her head on his shoulder. The scent of jasmine filled his nostrils, incredibly sweet and reassuring as he carried her down to safety.

The chopper had landed in the middle of the car park. Arne climbed in and strapped Amelie into the spare basket for the flight to the hospital. Deputy Ray jumped in just as they were about to take off.

“Have to accompany the prisoner. Make a note of anything he says.” He spat out of the open door. “Never did think he’d amount to much.”

Amelie lay quiet. The paramedic excused himself as he swapped places with Arne to check her. “She’s bleeding from her left temple, but it’s almost stopped and her vital signs are stable.” He moved away to the radio.

Arne sat back beside Amelie, holding her hand between his. Stroking her hair, he gazed upon her still form. Her eyes opened briefly and found his.

“Always an adventure with you,” she mumbled, lightly squeezing his hand. The helicopter lifted off and she closed her eyes, wincing in pain. She didn’t speak again during the flight.