sure?” he said. “I can always heat up something else for myself.”
“No, go ahead.”
With a nod, he accepted the plate and started eating. She took a deep breath, then another, staring into the fire.
Maybe it was the flames dancing in the fireplace, or the sound of his spoon scraping against the plate. Whatever the case, she found herself relaxing, fighting to keep her eyes open.
Stay awake!
“Relax and I’ll keep watch,” he said, as if sensing her thoughts.
Will might think they were safe in the cabin, but Sara knew better. Danger was almost always on the other side of a closed door.
The warmth of the fire filled the cabin and she blinked, fighting to stay alert. Exhaustion took hold and she felt herself drift. She snapped her eyes open again, and spotted Will lying on the floor on top of his sleeping bag. He wore a headlamp and was reading a book.
He was definitely a trusting man, but was he really so naive to think they weren’t in danger? He was a civilian determined to protect her. Yet she’d brought the danger to his doorstep.
For half a second, she wanted to believe there were quality men like Will Rankin who rescued failed FBI agents, and protected them from bears and assassins.
Comforted her with a gentle hand on her shoulder. She drifted again...
Don’t make a sound...
She gasped and opened her eyes. Will was no longer on the floor beside the fire. She scanned the room. She was alone.
The door opened and she aimed the gun. Will paused in the threshold. “Needed more wood.” He crossed the small cabin and stacked the wood beside the fireplace.
“What time is it?” she said.
“Nineish,” he said.
“I’ve been out for...”
“A couple of hours. Your body needed it.”
Her mind ran wild, panicked about what could have happened in the past two hours. How close the assassin was to finding her.
“Give me your phone.”
He handed it to her. She stood and headed for the door.
“I don’t think it will work yet,” he said.
“I’ve got to try.”
“Want me to come with?”
“No.” She spun around and instinctively pointed the gun at him. The look on his face was a mixture of disbelief and hurt.
“Sorry.” She lowered the gun. “Just...stay here.”
“Try a few hundred feet that way.” He pointed, and then turned back to the fire, his shoulders hunched.
The minute she stepped out of the cabin a chill rushed down her arms. She should have brought the blanket with her, but wasn’t thinking clearly. Why else would she have pointed the gun at Will?
His hurt expression shouldn’t bother her. She hardly knew the man. Yet shame settled low in her gut.
Focus! It was late, but she had to call her boss if she could get a signal.
The full moon illuminated the area around the cabin. She pressed the power button and practically jogged toward a cluster of trees up ahead.
“Come on, come on.” She held the button for a few seconds. The screen flashed onto the picture of the two redheaded girls.
“Yes,” she said.
But still, no signal.
She waved the phone above her head, eyeing the screen, looking for bars.
The click of a gun made her freeze.
“There you are.”
A firm hand gripped a fistful of Sara’s hair. “Did you think you could outrun us?” a man’s deep voice said.
Us? They’d sent more than one of them after her?
“Nice to meet you, Sara. I’m Bill.” He snatched the gun from the waistband of her jeans and pushed her toward the cabin.
“What do you want?”
“Why’d you run off from the group?”
“I had a family emergency.”
“Sure,” he said, sarcastic. “Who sent you in the first place?”
“No one. I work for Whitman Mountain Adventures.”
“Convenient how you showed up out of nowhere and worked your way onto LaRouche and Harrington’s camping trip.”
“I needed the job.”
“Yeah, yeah. We’re meeting up with them tomorrow so you can explain yourself. We’ll sleep here tonight.”
Sleep here? In the cabin? Where Will was innocently stoking a fire?
“No,” she ground out.
“Yes.” He shoved her forward.
She opened the door to the cabin, but Will was gone.
“Where’s your friend?” the man asked.
“What friend?”
He pushed her down in a chair. “The guy I met earlier today. Before our pleasant chat, I noticed your torn jacket on the bed. I guessed you were close. Where’d he go?”
“I have no idea.”
A thumping sound echoed from the front porch.
“You sit there and be quiet while I go hunting.” Her attacker bound her wrists in front.
When she winced at the pressure against her sprained wrist he smiled as if taking pleasure in hurting her. He leaned close. So close she was tempted to head-butt him. Instead, she stared straight ahead, acting like the innocent victim she claimed to be. He tied another rope around her midsection, securing her to the chair.
“Behave,” he threatened.
He turned and went outside in search of Will. Why had Will gotten himself involved in this? Why had he had to help her when he’d found her unconscious body next to the lake?
Silence rang in her ears as fear took hold. The assassin would kill Will, leaving two little girls without a father. No, she couldn’t let that happen. Couldn’t
