Page 68 of Cole

She should feel safe. Should feel like the worst was behind them. But the knot in her stomach refused to loosen. She glanced at her phone for the hundredth time, hoping for a text from Cole. But he was busy trying to survey Penson’s house, so she knew he was busy. Even with that acknowledgment, she looked at her phone again and sighed.

Janice thought back on the past few days, and a smile finally crossed her lips. Cole had entered her life and immediately decided he wanted to protect her, while also being impressed by the job she performed. The protectiveness that had annoyed her at first now felt like a warm blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

As she looked at her phone again, her stomach growled loudly enough to echo in the small room. Breakfast had been rushed, just hotel coffee and a granola bar of questionable origin that she had stuffed in her laptop bag at some point. And now it was noon. Timothy and Frazier weren’t here yet, and she hoped it wouldn’t be much longer before they arrived.

Janice worried her bottom lip for a moment, wondering whether she should order food or wait. Cole would be hungry when he got back. And if Timothy and Frazier were hurrying to get to her as she hoped, they'd probably be starving after their delayed journey.

She should order food. Enough to feed multiple people.

The Bear Paw Tavern's menu sat on the dresser, and Janice grabbed it, scanning the options. Burgers, sandwiches, wings… all the comfort food that would hit the spot after days of stress and cold. She called the number and placed an order large enough to feed a small army.

"We don't have a delivery person available today," Donna's familiar voice said apologetically. "We're short-staffed with the storm and all. But I can have it ready for pickup in about twenty minutes if you want to come get it?"

Janice hesitated. Cole had told her to stay inside. But the tavern was literally down the street, visible from the hotel window. She'd be gone just long enough to walk there and back. Knowing she couldn’t put herself at risk, she blurted, "Actually, I'm not feeling great." She hated the lie that slipped so easily from her mouth. "Is there any way someone could bring it by? I'm in room 7 at the hotel, and I'll tip extra for the trouble."

There was a pause, then Donna's voice softened with concern. "Is this Janice… the veterinarian?”

“Um… yes.”

“Honey, are you okay? Do you need anything besides food?"

"I'm fine, just have a headache, and I don't want to go out in the cold." The lies were piling up now, making Janice's cheeks heat with shame. Donna was a nice woman who didn't deserve to be manipulated.

"Tell you what, it's slow here since most of the people stuck in the storm have left, and I consider you local and not a tourist. The hotel's close, so I'll bring it over myself once it's ready. You rest up, okay?"

"Thank you so much. I really appreciate it."

Janice ended the call and immediately felt guilty. She wasn't sick. She was just being cautious, following Cole's instructions to stay put. But lying to Donna, who'd been nothing but kind, left a bad taste in her mouth.

It's for safety, she reminded herself. Better to lie than to take unnecessary risks.

She paced the small room, her energy having nowhere to go. The television offered nothing but static on half the channels and reruns on the others. Her laptop was packed away and pulling it out to work seemed pointless when her mind was too scattered to focus.

Instead, she found herself at the window, looking down at the parking lot and the street beyond. Small-town Alaska in the aftermath of a storm. Quiet, peaceful, deceptively normal. People went about their business, clearing snow from their vehicles, walking to the general store, living their ordinary lives completely unaware of the corruption festering just miles away.

Janice's hand moved unconsciously to the lighthouse pendant at her throat, her fingers tracing its outline. The tracker inside gave her comfort, knowing that even if something went wrong, Cole could find her. It seemed like a tether between them. Yet when the excitement died down, what would the emotions be? When this assignment was over, and she had to decide whether to go back to her parents’ veterinary clinic, take another special research assignment with a different university, or move somewhere else… would he feel the same as he did now?

A long breath eased from her lips, and she turned away from the window. Those will be questions for another day. Right now, she needed to focus on what was happening. She was safely ensconced in a locked hotel room in a small town where the biggest excitement was usually arguing about whether the county should plow the roads twice or three times after a storm. At least that was what the news reporter said on the TV this morning.

A knock on the door made her jump. She’d almost forgotten about lunch. She moved to the door and checked the peephole, seeing Donna's familiar face holding two large paper bags that Janice knew would be filled with the most delicious food. She still felt guilty but didn’t want Donna to see her and know she’d lied about being sick.

“Donna, you can just leave it at the door. I don’t want you to catch what I have,” she called out.

“Oh, honey, you take care,” Donna said. “And if you need a doctor, there’s a clinic in the next town, just about twenty minutes away.”

“Thank you!”

“Okay, I’ll see you later,” Donna said, waving before heading back down the stairs.

Janice waited until Donna was out of sight and then opened the door to grab the bags. The scent of lunch immediately hit her, and she decided she wouldn’t wait on Cole, Timothy, or Frazier. They can eat when they get in. She bent to pick up the bags when movement exploded from the side.

A man forced his way to her, backing her up as his hands grabbed her arms. She started to scream, but another man appeared, clamping his hand over her mouth with bruising force, cutting off the sound before it could fully form. Janice panicked, fighting and kicking.

"Don't make this harder than it has to be," the first man said, his voice low and urgent.

She thrashed wildly, kicking backward, trying to connect with anything that would hurt. Her elbow caught someone's ribs, and she heard a grunt of pain. But there were two of them and only one of her, and they were stronger and bigger.

Rough hands wrenched her arms behind her back. She tried to twist away, tried to break free, but it was like fighting against iron bars. The hand over her mouth pressed harder, making it difficult to breathe, and stars danced at the edges of her vision.