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CHAPTER1
NORI
This may not have been my best idea. That thought kept rolling through my head in sync with the falling snowflakes as they grew in size and speed. Driving over a mountain pass in a rental that may or may not have all-weather tires had been an impulse decision. I’ve been making split-second decisions for most of my thirty-eight years, and I’ve never second guessed myself. Until tonight.
My parents had moved to northern Idaho the year my younger brother had been drafted into the United States Baseball League and I’d yet to visit them. Bad sister. Bad daughter. Now five years into his career, Tyler’s star was rising, and I’d stayed away long enough.
Plus, my mother had been on my case and worried that I hadn’t settled down. There had been something in her voice during our last phone call that hit me differently than before. I’d accomplished so much in my career the last decade and her concern, along with an itch I couldn’t name, had me seriously considering slowing down and to stop running so hard toward that next big story.
An eighteen-wheeler roared past my small SUV, splashing slush and ice onto the windshield. I let out a small scream, then a stream of curse words. Gripping the wheel, I remembered the advice the rental clerk gave me as he handed over the keys. “Whatever happens, don’t slam your brakes if you’re on ice. Pump them and if you slide, turn into it.”
Not sure if the guy was psychic, but it turned out to be the best piece of advice I’d ever received. The glow of taillights faded, but I knew the jerk would have to slow down again soon because there was another incline up ahead. My heartbeat thundered in my ears as I attempted to get my breathing under control. Glancing at the clock, I groaned. I was over an hour behind where I’d thought I’d be.
The gas level indicator lit up on the dashboard. What? The tank had been full when I left Missoula three hours ago. There’s no way I was out of gas. Dammit. “Siri, find the nearest gas station.” Siri didn’t respond, and I didn’t dare take my eyes off the road. Cell service was either down or inconsistent this high up.
Okay, Nori. You got this. You’ve been in worse situations. Just breathe.
For the last twelve years I’d travelled the world interviewing world leaders, insurrectionists, and newsmakers under less-than-ideal conditions. I could handle one little snowstorm.
Flashing lights appeared on the horizon. At least what looked like the horizon. A police officer decked out in thermal gear waved me over to the side of the road. Tiny hairs stood at attention on my neck and along my arms. Same feeling that came over me whenever I was on the edge of a war zone.
“Sorry, Ma’am. You’ll have to turn around. The pass is closed.” He leaned down and peered at me through my open window and rubbed his leather gloved hands. “How much gas do you have?”
Whoa, “Ma'am?”My mother is a ma’am. I easily and often passed for someone in their late twenties. And gas? Yeah, I was hoping to fuel up at the next exit, on the other side of the flashing lights and barricades.
“Officer, I have about an eighth of a tank, enough to get me to the next gas station. Couldn’t you let me through? I promise I’ll come right back and head for that hotel I saw about ten miles back.
The officer stared at me like I had two heads. “There’s no gas station up ahead, ma’am. At least not for thirty miles. Besides, the roads are iced up and under at least a foot of snow.”
Dang it. “Okay, but I’m not a ma’am. If anything, I’m a Ms. And second, I need to get to Pineville. Tonight.” Looking in my rearview mirror, hoping for what I wasn’t sure. Backup maybe? Other tired travelers to join the cause and talk the officer into letting us drive on. But all I could see were snowflakes and inky blackness. I waited for headlights to appear behind me. But nothing or no one appeared.What had happened to all the other cars?
“Sorry, Ma—”
Holding up a hand, I released a loud sigh. “Please. Please, don’t call me ma’am again.” All hope of making it to my parent’s place faded along with my desire to break the barricade and take my chances on the snow-covered freeway.
“All right,Ms. I’m not sure where you started your journey from, but this storm has been expected for hours and most everyone heeded the warnings on the emergency radio channel. Your best bet is to go back to Exit 14. Woody Forest has a six-room motel attached to the gas station and mini-mart. I’m sure he’d be happy to rent you a room for the night. The plows will be out at dawn.”
He had to be kidding.Woody Forest?Had to be a made-up name. And there was no way I was going to admit I’d been listening to podcasts instead of checking the weather reports. Usually, I was hyper aware of my surroundings after years on the road and in often unfriendly countries. But the excitement to finally be home with family over Christmas had been hard to tamp down. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d spent the holidays with nothing to worry about expect how much snow I could stuff down my brother’s ski jacket or how many cookies I could eat without my mom finding out.
The officer touched the brim of his hat and nodded. He waved me toward the emergency road connecting the four-lane highway. It looked to have been recently shoveled as I inched my way over and onto the eastbound lanes of I-90. And just like that I was headed away from a warm bed and my mom’s legendary leftovers, back into the fury of relentless snow toward a roadside motel I wasn’t sure I had enough gas to reach.
I’d bribed and flirted my way past tougher looking men than him, but this wasn’t some third world country, and I knew better than to put myself in harm’s way during a storm on its way to a blizzard with rapidly falling temps. In fact, I was pretty much over that period of my life, and I wanted to make sure I stayed healthy and safe for what came next. Even if I hadn’t quite figured out what that was.
Twenty minutes later, a road sign appeared showing Exit 14 was less than half a mile up ahead. Scanning the dashboard, I tapped the button on the steering wheel that brought up the digital menu and flipped through till I found the gas level reading. Estimated miles left were three. Well, at least someone was looking out for me.
Slowing to take the sharp right turn from the exit into the parking lot of the only building for miles, my heartbeat stuttered at the neon sign in the motel’s office window. No Vacancy.
So much for my guardian angel.
CHAPTER2
DEAN
“Hey, Dad. Where you at? You get lost in the mountains? I think I have that photographer’s number. I bet he could find you.” Laughter followed my son’s smartass remarks. The voicemail crackled and Heath’s next words were garbled, followed by silence. Service in the mountains was sporadic at best, but with the impending storm, it had finally been cut off.
At nineteen, my son’s sense of humor definitely didn’t jibe with mine. He’d milked my recent spot in the unwelcome limelight every chance he could. A sleeveless workout photo of me at a local gym had gone viral a couple months ago, and it had fed the headlines, becoming clickbait for weeks regarding my private life. My co-workers had had a field day with it even though we were now in the off season.
And by co-workers I meant alpha pumped up athletes who, during time between innings, warming up in the bullpen or strapped into an airplane seat with nowhere to go, loved nothing more than yanking my chain. I was in my fifth year as the head pitching coach for the Idaho Outlaw’s United States baseball team.
