Snowed In (9 page)

Her lips slipped against his, tasting and demanding. She caught his full lower lip in her teeth and pulled, teasing him. And he responded forcefully, kissing her hard and using his tongue to push inside.

And when he pulled away, she felt like she’d never really been kissed before. Everything until now had been practice.

Blake was the real deal.

Chapter Nine

The next morning, Sarah was—as usual—up at daybreak. The breakfast part of bed-and-breakfast meant she needed to provide something to eat for her guests, and her intention was to make fresh muffins. As usual, she stumbled around the kitchen half-asleep.
Need coffee, I need coffee now.
She went through the brewing process and waited—as usual—for the coffee to drip into the glass carafe.

In spite of the familiar routine, she didn’t feel like her everyday self. Outside the windows, dawn scoured the cloudy skies with crimson and maroon. What was that old saying?
Red sky at morning, sailors take warning.
The snow was coming; there was more trouble on the horizon.

She should have been worried about the weather and the kidnap attempt and her guests and the million things that needed to be done before the wedding. Instead, she felt an
unusual
sense of anticipation. Her heart was light. Her feet wanted to dance. She turned on the streaming satellite radio, which had been tuned by Emily to a pop station, and heard Taylor Swift. Sarah’s moccasins tapped in time to the beat.

As a practical woman, she knew better than to make too much of one kiss, even a very excellent kiss. She shouldn’t forget that Blake was only going to be here for a few days—not long enough to establish a relationship. But nobody said she had to be serious.

For once in her life, she could have a wild, crazy, passionate fling with a big, strong guy. There didn’t seem to be a choice. He wouldn’t get out of her head. Her dreams last night had been X-rated, and Blake played a starring role in every one.

She was reaching for the carafe when the Reuben twins tromped through the kitchen door.

“I told you I smelled coffee,” John Reuben said. “Hi, Sarah. What’s with the music?”

“Apparently, Taylor Swift is never ever ever going to get back together.”

“Her loss,” John said.

Sarah poured herself a cup of coffee. “Any problems last night?”

“Nothing at all.” The other twin, William, placed the computer screen with the camera views on the countertop. “We spent a lot of time talking to Blake.”

So had she, but her time had been romantic dream whisperings. “What did you talk about?”

“Signing up for the military.”

“We could see the world.” John flung his arms wide. His wingspan from fingertip to fingertip was over six feet. “I always wanted to go to Japan, where they have ninjas and those big, fat wrestlers.”

William nodded quietly as he poured himself a mug of coffee.

The twins were identical in appearance but so different in temperament that she never had trouble telling them apart. William was thoughtful and soft-spoken while his brother was bursting with energy. John was a few minutes older and liked to be first at everything.

Though Sarah was only about ten years older than the twins, she’d watched them grow up and felt motherly toward them. Joining the army was a big decision and shouldn’t be made because they happened to meet a ranger who was a super-cool role model. “William, I thought you were going to college.”

“I can still do that, and the military gives me benefits that will help with the tuition.”

“We might as well enlist,” John said. “It’s hard to find a job around here. Dad can’t afford for us to work with him full-time at the hardware store, even if we are the best handymen in the county.”

“You have a job here until after the wedding,” she said.

“We’re doing security.” John puffed up his chest. “Do you really think anybody is going to attack the B and B?”

“Don’t know, but I’d rather be safe than sorry. I want you guys to come back every night until Sunday.”

Although she hadn’t heard an identifiable sound, her ears pricked up. She sensed Blake’s approach. The homey kitchen atmosphere seemed charged with energy. A shaft of light shone through the window like a spotlight as he entered.

His hair was still wet and spiky from the shower. The sharp line of his jaw was clean-shaven. And his eyes, his incredible blue eyes, glistened. She wanted to say something clever to show that she wasn’t completely disarmed, but her mouth was too busy gaping. She shoved the coffee mug to her lips and took a gulp.
Caffeine, don’t fail me now.
“Good morning, Blake.”

“Back at you.” He greeted the twins and poured himself a mug of coffee.

She hadn’t planned on seeing him this early. Didn’t the man ever sleep late? If she’d known he’d be up, she would have gotten dressed instead of stumbling around in pink plaid pajamas and an ancient blue bathrobe. “I just came down here to get my muffins started.”

“I’d be happy to help with your muffins.”

Why did that sound so sexy? “I’m happy if you’re happy.”

“We had a phone call last night from Emily’s dad,” he said. “It seems that the senator is into conspiracy theories.”

She didn’t know Emily’s parents well but remembered a very long evening drinking craft beer with the senator and hearing every detail about the mysterious Area 51 in Nevada. “I hate to ask, but what does the senator think about the kidnap attempt?”

“I think we ruled out aliens,” Blake said.

“Wow!” John Reuben’s eyes popped wide. “Aliens?”

“I’m joking,” Blake said.

“Yeah, right. I knew that.”

“The bad news,” Blake said, “is that the senator has enough suspects to populate a midsize mountain town. The less bad news is that he doesn’t consider any of them to be violent.”

She didn’t quite believe that reasoning. “A kidnapping at gunpoint isn’t violent?”

Blake shrugged. “He’s adamant about having the wedding proceed as planned. He made quite a speech about not negotiating with bad guys and not letting them dictate his course of action.”

She was wide-awake enough to read between the lines. “Long story short,” she said, “the senator thinks the threat is all about him and he won’t back down. The general sees only his own enemies. It’s a clear case of dueling egos.”

“You don’t much like these guys.”

“Not true,” she said as she took another dose of caffeine. “They both have fine qualities, and I really like the senator’s wife, Rebecca. I just wish we could eliminate any possible danger before the wedding.”

William Reuben held up the screen showing the camera feeds. “Hey, look at this. There’s a van coming down the road.”

“Are you expecting anyone?” Blake asked her.

“Not until later today.”

Blake straightened his shoulders, stepped away from the counter and faced the twins. With a subtle shift in posture, he took on an attitude of authority. “Gentlemen, we need to identify the driver and passengers in the vehicle. Use caution.”

Sarah followed them to the front room, where she stood at the window to watch. To her surprise, the twins moved with the sort of mature assurance and discipline they might learn in basic training. Blake must have been working with them. On the porch, he made a couple of quick gestures. William took a position at the edge of the porch with his rifle aimed at the approaching van. John went left and stood behind her truck.

Blake descended from the porch. His right hand rested on the butt of the handgun holstered at his hip. Until this moment, Sarah hadn’t noticed he was armed. He was an intimidating presence as he approached the vehicle.

A skinny guy with tight jeans and a fringed leather jacket emerged from the driver’s side. He flapped his arms like an angry crow as he talked to Blake.

She squinted through the window. The guy didn’t look familiar, and she hadn’t made any reservations for this weekend. Had Bentley’s B and B turned into a problem magnet?

When Blake waved to her, she opened the front door and peeked out. “What is it?”

“Ollie and the Dewdrops,” Blake said. “He says they’re a band.”

She remembered—a guitar, a violin and a flute. They’d played at some romantic event Emily and Jeremy had attended, and Emily had been trying to book them. Though Sarah was glad the band could make it, today was Thursday and the wedding wasn’t until Saturday. “They’re a little early.”

The guy in the fringed jacket waved to her. “Our other gig is over. We’ve got no place to stay.”

And why did that make Ollie and the Dewdrops her problem? A gust of wind rattled the treetops, reminding her of the impending blizzard that was supposed to start tomorrow. She had to plan for heavy snow, had to make sure there was enough food and had to check on the flowers. Her day was getting more and more complicated.

For one irresponsible moment, she wondered what would happen if she told everybody to back off while she dragged Blake into her bedroom and had her way with him.

The urge passed, somewhat to her chagrin.

* * *

A
FTER
B
LAKE
HAD
gotten Ollie and his two Dewdrop pals settled in the twelve-bed dormitory area on the third floor of the B and B, he collected their driver’s licenses. Checking identification for every person who joined the wedding party was a necessary security measure.

On the second floor, he tapped on the door to the bedroom that had been assigned to Maddox and Alvardo. The senior officer answered quickly. Alvardo wore an army sweat suit with a black knit cap covering his close-cropped blond hair. His complexion was ruddy, and he looked pumped.

“Been out for a run?” Blake asked.

“Five miles every day.” He slipped into the hall and closed the bedroom door behind him as though he had something to hide. “Can I help you?”

“I need your computer skills. During the weekend, we’re going to have civilians coming and going.”

His light eyebrows pinched into a disapproving frown. “This B and B is supposed to be a secure location.”

“It’s only as secure as we make it,” Blake said. “I want you to check IDs. See if you can work out something with Kovak to use the law enforcement database.”

“I don’t need Kovak. I can access any damn intelligence I need. How deep should I go with background?”

“Flag anything suspicious. Bring it to me, and we’ll talk about it.”

Blake didn’t completely trust this guy. Alvardo was an ambitious political officer who probably hadn’t seen a lot of action. Though Blake didn’t judge a man by his combat missions, he appreciated the sense of teamwork that came from working with a squad in the field. If push came to shove, he wasn’t sure Alvardo would have his back.

But he didn’t have much choice. Blake handed over the driver’s licenses. “You can start with these three. They’re a band, and they’re going to be here for the ceremony.”

“A band, huh?” Alvardo tapped the licenses in his hand. “Are we going to have a bachelor party for Jeremy?”

“Tomorrow night. I’m supposed to be planning it,” Blake said sheepishly. He hadn’t given a thought to the bachelor party. “I guess I should hire a stripper.”

“I’ll do it,” Alvardo readily volunteered.

“Thanks. You might check with Dolly, one of the owners at the Laughing Dog Saloon.”

He hustled downstairs where a buffet was arranged on the side table in the dining room. In addition to freshly made muffins, there was fruit, cereal and yogurt. One chafing dish held breakfast burritos of scrambled eggs and chorizo. A Crock-Pot was filled with green chili. It was a decent spread, and Sarah had put it together in less than an hour.

The general sat at the foot of the table, chatting with Jeremy and Emily. The Reuben twins were walking toward the front door with Maddox.

Jeremy waved to him. “Blake, come sit.”

“In a minute.”

He charged through the swinging door to the kitchen where he hoped to find Sarah alone. Last night when they’d kissed, he’d felt something deeper and stronger than the sensual attraction. Not that the sexuality was lacking; he’d been on fire. But the sense of connection was too powerful to ignore.

He called it an instinct. For most of his life, he’d been a man of action who didn’t spend much time analyzing and reflecting. His instincts told him who to trust. He knew without thinking when he was in danger, when to attack, when to retreat. Their kiss made his heart beat faster and his legs go weak. She was special. He needed a chance to spend some time with her, to get to know her better.

In the kitchen, he watched as she chopped a tomato on the cutting board while talking on the landline telephone and stretching the cord. The oven timer went off. She dropped the knife, grabbed an oven mitt, flipped open the oven door and pulled out another tray of muffins. Then she was back at the cutting board. Though she whirled through the kitchen like a Roller Derby queen, her phone voice was calm and her manner not frazzled.

When she hung up the phone, she glanced toward him. “What is it, Blake?”

“You’ve got a regular juggling act going on here.”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” she said.

“Slow down.” He couldn’t talk to her while she was zooming around the kitchen.

She came to an abrupt halt and turned to him with her fists on her hips. “What do you need?”

He wanted to tell her that their kiss last night hadn’t been a mistake. Holding her in his arms might have been the start of something important. He wanted to know if she felt the same way about him.

He needed another kiss.

But now wasn’t the right time. Here wasn’t the right place.

Chapter Ten

Blake hooked his index finger into the front bib of her striped apron and gave a little tug, pulling her toward him. Her head tilted back as though she was resisting him, but her smile was pure enticement. Before taking the last step into his arms, she untied her apron and slipped out of it, leaving him with a handful of pin-striped fabric.

“An update,” he said. “The band is settled on the third floor.”

“Good.”

“Sometime soon, I want you to give me a tour of the trails around the house.”

She returned to the countertop and started taking fresh-from-the-oven muffins from their tin and arranging them on a plate. “That can be arranged.”

He watched as she bustled through the kitchen. Though she was wearing hiking boots, her step was light. Her pastel-green turtleneck was tucked into her jeans, and the sleeves were pushed up to her elbows. He asked, “When did you find time to get dressed?”

“Throwing on a pair of jeans doesn’t take much effort.”

“Maybe not for you,” he said, “but I’ve worked with female troops who could spend an hour combing their hair and putting on camo fatigues.”

“What can I say? I’m low maintenance.”

Though he wasn’t an expert, he could tell that she wasn’t using any kind of makeup, and her hair was snatched into a quick ponytail. She didn’t need maintenance to look good.

Before he could move toward her again, Jeremy came into the kitchen. “Great breakfast, Sarah.”

“Thanks. Am I running low on anything?”

“Not that I can tell.” He turned to Blake. “I understand you had some excitement this morning.”

“Ollie and the Dewdrops showed up.” Blake focused back on the immediate security concerns. “I need info from both of you. How many people are going to be staying here on the weekend?”

“The Reuben twins,” Sarah said, “and I just got off the phone with a woman who helps me out during the busy season. She and a friend of hers are going to come over and handle the basic cooking and cleaning, but they won’t be staying.”

“Are they your only staff?”

“During the summer and fall I have a couple of live-in people. Otherwise, I can handle the business by myself and with a couple of part-timers.”

“Who else?” he asked.

“The senator, his wife and a speech writer,” she said. “I didn’t book any other guests because I wanted the families to have their privacy.”

He glanced at Jeremy. “Have you and Emily invited anybody?”

“We started to,” he said, “but the list got longer and more complicated. We’re sticking to immediate family and both of you.”

For a wedding, there weren’t many people in attendance, but Blake felt crowded. Everywhere he turned, there was someone pushing into his space—a space he wanted to share with Sarah alone. “What about people who will be dropping things off?”

“Let me think.” Sarah started ticking them off on her fingers. “Later today, the florist will bring roses. The wedding cake baker should be here late tonight or early tomorrow. The caterer is coming tomorrow and will be bringing two servers, and they’ll be back for the ceremony on Saturday. Why do you need to know all this?”

“Background checks,” he said. He’d have to set up a procedure with Alvardo to verify the people providing services before they entered the premises. “I’ll need names and phone numbers for all the people coming here.”

“Good thinking,” Jeremy said. “Anyone could be a hired assassin.”

“Not Ollie and the Dewdrops,” she said as she went to the CD player. “You’ve got to listen to this CD.”

A strange but beautiful ballad wafted through the kitchen. The haunting melody from the flute gave it a Celtic lilt. The lyrics described a secret love and a waning harvest moon.

Sarah gave a sigh. “They don’t sound dangerous, except in a sentimental heartbreak way.”

“They’re amazing,” Jeremy said. “It’s a stroke of luck that they were available for the wedding. Their home base is Portland.”

Maddox rushed into the kitchen from the dining room. In his hand, he carried the computer screen with the camera views. “We have a problem.”

The feed from the camera that faced the edge of the cliff to the south showed a camouflaged figure moving through the trees. He appeared to be carrying a rifle.

If it was only one man, Blake figured that he and Jeremy could easily handle the threat. They’d been in the same eight-man ranger squad for two tours in Afghanistan. The tricky part would be to capture the intruder without harming him. Having backup would be useful.

“Are the twins still here?” Blake asked Maddox.

“They left ten minutes ago.”

He would have preferred using the twins instead of Maddox, who he hadn’t worked with before. “Do you see anybody else on the camera feeds?”

Maddox shook his head. “The intruder appears to be alone.”

“Have you had sniper training?”

“I can handle a rifle.”

“Weapons and ammo are in the front closet. Position yourself on the porch and monitor the camera feeds. If you see another intruder, call my sat phone.”

“What should I do?” Sarah asked.

Once again, they were in the midst of a potentially dangerous situation. This time, he’d keep her on the sidelines. “Stay here. Make sure all doors are locked and don’t let people go near the windows.”

In the dining room, Blake gave a quick explanation to the people around the breakfast table, which now included the band, while Jeremy stole a dramatic kiss from his fiancée. They armed themselves from the weapons cache in the front closet, and Blake gave the orders. “I’ll come in from the north. You take the southern approach. If you have to shoot, don’t go for a kill shot. I want to talk to this guy and get information.”

As they prepared to leave, Alvardo joined them from his bedroom. He immediately deduced what was happening. “I can help,” he said.

“Stay with Maddox.”

Blake might have been able to put him to better use, but he didn’t want to take the time to explain. The sooner they nabbed the intruder, the better. He and Jeremy exited through the door on the far south end of the hallway and pulled it tight so it locked behind them.

They could have taken one of the screens showing the camera feed to pinpoint the location of the intruder, but Blake had a fairly good idea of where he was. “About a hundred and twenty yards away,” he said in low, quiet tones, “near that fork in the path.”

“I know the spot,” Jeremy said. “There’s not much level ground around here, but I think I can get behind him.”

Without further discussion of strategy, they adopted a maneuver they’d used many times before—a pincer with the intruder trapped in the middle. Blake doubted they’d be able to use the element of surprise in the daylight. In their jeans and jackets, they weren’t invisible amid the trees and boulders. Though both men were trained to move with a minimum of noise, the silence of the forest magnified every sound. It wasn’t snowing but the air was ice-cold. A coating of snow from last night covered the ground.

When he had eyes on the intruder, Blake ducked behind a waist-high boulder and watched as the man in gray-and-white camouflage crept timidly toward the house, stopping frequently to look around. His face was covered by a knit gray ski mask. He wore a backpack and carried a semiautomatic rifle.

The forest didn’t appear to be his natural habitat. He was breathing heavily, and he stumbled over twigs and pinecones. He didn’t hold his weapon like a hunter or a soldier, which caused Blake to wonder what the intruder’s plan was. If he wasn’t a marksman, why would he attempt a shooting?

Blake moved to a vantage point uphill from the winding path. Through the trees, he saw Jeremy take his position behind a tree trunk.

The intruder was about forty yards from the south end of the house when Blake fired a warning shot and shouted, “Drop your weapon!”

Instead of obeying, the intruder swung his rifle in a half circle, wildly spraying bullets. “Don’t shoot at me. I’m warning you. Don’t shoot.”

Blake recognized the voice. This was the guy he’d talked to on the phone last night—the kidnapper. “You’re surrounded,” Blake said. “If you don’t drop your weapon, we will open fire.”

“No, don’t shoot.” He threw the rifle into the bare branches of a chokecherry bush. “I’m carrying a bomb.”

“A bomb.”

“That’s right, an explosive device or whatever you military people call it. I was going to plant it at the house.”

Blake stepped out from his hiding place so the intruder could see him, but he didn’t approach the guy. Keeping his voice calm, he asked, “Is the bomb in your backpack?”

“Don’t come any closer.” The intruder waved a metallic blue cell phone. “This is how I detonate it. Come any closer, and I’ll set it off, I swear I will.”

“Come on, man. That’s a nasty way to die. You don’t want to commit suicide.”

“And I don’t want to go to prison. Stay away from me and nobody gets hurt.”

Last night, Blake had thought the kidnapper was the mastermind who hired Farley and his men. But this frightened man didn’t have the attitude or the smarts to be a leader. “Who are you working for? Give me a name. I can cut you a deal.”

“Some names are better left unsaid.” His voice trembled. He was scared. “Leave me alone.”

“Is anyone else with you?”

“It’s just me.”

His answer came so quickly that Blake believed him. There wasn’t a team of assassins. “But you’re taking orders from someone else.”

The intruder shook his head but didn’t verbally deny the accusation. Blake continued, “You’re not the kind of man who hires thugs to do kidnappings. You don’t know how to build a bomb. You shouldn’t have to take the fall for this. If you’re being forced or coerced, I can help you.”

“I didn’t want anyone to be hurt.” He sounded like he was on the verge of tears. “I still don’t.”

“I understand,” Blake said. “Take off the backpack, put it on the ground and come with me.”

The intruder hesitated for a moment. He seemed to be considering surrender. Then he looked beyond Blake’s shoulder and saw something that spooked him.

Blake glanced back. Maddox and Alvardo were approaching with rifles held at the ready. They had picked exactly the wrong time to show up. He gestured for them to stay back as he spoke to the intruder. “They’re not going to shoot.”

The intruder turned and stumbled. When he looked up, he saw Jeremy blocking the path to his escape.

“Move.” The intruder waved his cell phone again. “Get the hell out of my way.”

As soon as Jeremy stepped back, the other man bolted. He lurched through the forest, crashing into low-hanging branches and trampling bushes at the edge of the path. Though he seemed to be staying on the pathways, he left a trail that a blind man could follow.

Blake turned to Alvardo and Maddox. “Return to the B and B and keep watch.”

“What are you going to do?” Alvardo demanded.

For a military man, he sure as hell didn’t understand chain of command. Blake was the ranking officer; he gave the orders. “If I need you, I’ll call Maddox on the sat phone.”

He pivoted and jogged down the path toward Jeremy.

“I could have tackled him,” Jeremy said.

“Not worth the risk. You might have triggered the bomb.” Blake looked down the pathway. “Where does this lead?”

“It’s the Cascade Path. It goes downhill and then up to a waterfall that Sarah calls the Cascade. I’m not sure that’s an official name.”

It was a good thing that he’d stopped the intruder. If this guy had managed to set up his explosive and damage the B and B, Sarah would have hunted him down and shown no mercy.

“Can we drive to the waterfall?”

“No.”

“The intruder must have used a snowmobile to get there.” Because they hadn’t heard an engine, it was safe to assume that the snowmobile wasn’t nearby. “We can’t let him get to his ride. Jeremy, you know this area better than I do. Take the lead.”

He ran behind his buddy, scanning the area as they charged down the path, following the footprints the intruder had left in the snow. He spotted the gray-and-white camo and pointed. “Up there.”

The highest part of the path narrowed to a rocky ledge and was covered with snow, which made the footing difficult. If they couldn’t catch up to the intruder, they’d have to shoot him in the leg and bring him down. Blake wasn’t going to let this guy escape.

Following Jeremy, he powered up the slope. The two rangers were in far better physical condition than the intruder and were closing the distance between them.

Again, Blake tried to reason with the guy. He shouted, “Take off the backpack and step away from it. We can help you.”

“He’s not listening,” Jeremy said.

He was listening, all right, but he was too scared to do what Blake said. The real mastermind—the person who had given the order to plant a bomb—had inspired terror in the intruder.

At the highest point in the path, they were only twenty yards away from the man with the backpack. He stood on a path that went behind the waterfall. Though mostly frozen in jagged spears, water still dripped along the edges and inside the ice, creating an illusion of movement as it descended fifty feet to a rocky pool.

The intruder peeled off his backpack and laid it on the ground. He held up his cell phone. “All it takes to detonate the explosion is for me to hit this button. If I were you, I’d take cover.”

The intruder darted into the cavelike area behind the waterfall. He was hidden by shadow. And they couldn’t risk moving closer. The bomb made a damn effective roadblock.

“He’s getting away,” Blake said. He couldn’t believe this guy had outsmarted him. Jeremy had already moved farther back on the trail. “I’m not getting any closer to that backpack.”

“What’s on the other side of the overhang?”

“I’ve never gone that far.”

Blake descended the path they’d just climbed. He hoped he could find an angle where he could see the intruder well enough to get a shot at him.

A frantic scream pierced the air.

Leaning over the edge of the path, Blake saw the man in gray-and-white camouflage as he tumbled, clawing at rocks and snow, tearing a gash in the steep cliff. He couldn’t break his fall. Momentum carried him the last several feet into the frozen pool at the bottom of the waterfall.