afternoon. Soon they would be busy catering to the needs of hunters, fishermen, hikers and a host of other nature lovers.
“I don’t know about you,” Grandpa Beck said, “but I’m hungrier than a bear at the end of hibernation.”
Mina laughed and said, “Come on, then, I’ll make you some scrambled eggs and bacon.”
“Breakfast for dinner,” Grandpa Beck said, grinning. “Now you’re talking!”
* * *
As the helicopter rose in the air, Jake watched the figures of Mina Gaines and her grandfather recede into the distance. He didn’t know why, but being near her gave him a warm feeling deep inside. It was a cliché, but he felt as though they had been fated to meet.
He turned and looked straight ahead as the pilot cranked up the speed of the Black Hawk and shot toward Asheville. This case had taken a turn for the worse when he’d been so close to wrapping it up.
He worked out of the Atlanta Division of the Drug Enforcement Administration, which served the states of Georgia, Tennessee, North Carolina and South Carolina. He’d infiltrated the Charlie Betts drug ring by first ingratiating himself with the big guy. He’d had Betts under surveillance for weeks and had followed him to his favorite nightclub one evening, when a drunken reveler had had the audacity to attempt to slug the drug dealer. Before Betts’s own bodyguard had the chance to act, Jake had stepped between the drunk and Betts. Impressed with his physical prowess, Betts had given Jake his card and told him if he ever needed anything to call him. The next day, Jake called and said he was down on his luck and could use a job. Betts hired him as low-level muscle.
He’d worked his way up to accompanying John on the weekly flights to Canada, where Betts’s marijuana supplier lived. He and Monahan had become friends, and Monahan had confided in him that he wanted out of the organization—but there was only one way out: death. That was when Jake had offered him another alternative: testify against Charlie Betts, and Jake would stand up for him and try to get him immunity.
That’s what they were attempting to do when the Matrix had gone down. They had a plane full of marijuana as evidence against Charlie Betts.
Jake was angry at himself for not anticipating that Charlie Betts had tapped John’s home phone. He should have cautioned John against telling anyone about their plans, even his wife, Lynn. Jake blamed himself for John’s death. He would do everything in his power to make John’s sacrifice mean something. That meant Betts and his organization had to go down.
Once they’d landed in Asheville and he’d seen John’s body being taken to the morgue, Jake got on the phone with the Special Agent in Charge in Atlanta.
Hoyt Granger was in his fifties and had a gravelly voice due to too many cigarettes, a habit he was constantly trying to kick. “Jake, what the hell happened to you? You were supposed to report in hours ago!”
Jake told him everything, and then patiently waited for his response.
“Thank God you’re safe,” Granger said. “My guess is Betts expected you and Monahan to go up in flames. That didn’t happen, so now we have ourselves a predicament. When word reaches Betts, and I’ll make sure it does, will he send his men to retrieve the drugs or write millions of dollars off just like that? I’m betting he’ll want to recover what he believes to be rightfully his. So you need to stick around. Stay out of sight. It might be to your advantage if Betts thinks you didn’t survive so I’m going to spread the news that both you and Monahan died in the crash.”
“You’re leaving the drugs at the site as bait?” Jake asked, to be certain they were on the same page.
“That’s right,” Granger confirmed. “Get back to Cherokee, hole up in a motel and I’ll send you the needed equipment, a sat phone and some heavy artillery. I’ll have agents and a helicopter waiting for your call after you catch Betts’s men in the act. As soon as we have them in custody, Betts will be arrested, too.”
“Sounds like you’ve got it all planned out,” said Jake with a note of skepticism.
“Can’t go as belly-up and ass-backward as the last plan did,” Granger commented dryly.
“Cherokee’s a small town,” Jake said. “I’ve met some of the people.” He was thinking about Mina and her grandfather. “They’re nice people. I don’t want them to get caught in the middle of a drug fight.”
“Then make sure there aren’t any confrontations in town, Jake. Follow Betts’s guys into the woods. Take them down there.”
“Got it,” Jake said. He knew there was no use arguing with Granger when he had his mind made up. “I’ll let you know where to send the needed equipment.”
They said their goodbyes, and Jake put his cell phone away with a grimace. Granger sat in his office all day, issuing orders. He hadn’t been in the field in so long, he’d forgotten that real people were out here. People they’d taken an oath to protect.
Two hours later, after being released from the hospital with a prescription for pain pills and the suggestion to take it easy for a couple days, Jake checked into a hotel in Asheville, took a hot shower and then crashed for the night.
Tomorrow he would rent a car and head back to Cherokee.
Chapter 3
On Sunday morning, Mina was on a ladder polishing the twin wooden totem poles that flanked the entrance to the lodge. She made it a habit of doing this last task just before new arrivals were expected. The two-story entrance never failed to impress the guests who thought the intricately carved door, with its images of deer, bears, foxes and elk, lent an authentic air to the lodge.
Her grandfather’s intention when designing Beck’s Wilderness Lodge was to marry two cultures: his—African-American—and his wife’s—Native American. Everywhere in the lodge were reminders of the cultures: throw rugs, wooden sculptures, woven baskets and wall hangings. Three stories in height, the pinewood lodge had guest rooms on every level, plus there were cabins on the property’s periphery for those who wanted more privacy.
Mina hummed as she worked. She was looking forward to taking guests on camping trips in the mountains, showing them where the fish were biting or where the rock climbing was good.
“Hello, Mina,” said a deep masculine voice from behind her.
Mina instantly recognized that voice. She smiled and turned slowly so as not to lose her balance on the ladder.
Jake grinned up at her. “I have to say, you look good from this angle,” he joked. “But then, you look good from every angle.”
Mina laughed and climbed down. “Jake, what are you doing here?”
* * *
Jake’s brain took a minivacation as his eyes feasted on her feminine curves in jeans and a T-shirt, and the way her skin seemed to glow.
He could have stood there all day, watching her, but his brain finally kicked in again, and he considered her question. When he’d gotten to Cherokee, he’d taken a room at a small motel in town. The next day the special equipment Granger had promised to send had arrived. While he was waiting for Betts’s men to put in an appearance, it had occurred to him that during their information-gathering regarding
