Killer Bunny Hill

by Denise Robbins

  He swung his legs off the bed, stood, and stretched. The man was beautiful. Her mouth watered. Every naked inch of him pure perfection, she watched him stride toward her.

  “Are the stitches itching?” Huh? What was he talking about?

  When her mind cleared from the haze his naked form caused, Sam realized Max had asked about her stitches. Unconsciously she had scratched at her hip. She stopped, shrugged. “A little.”

  With warm, calloused fingers, Max caressed the stitches and the puckered skin that had healed around them. Relieving Sam of the baby-blue panties she held, he tugged at her hand.

  “Come on. Let’s see if we can fix that itch.” Sam’s heart leapt. Was he talking about the stitches?

  When Max walked into the bathroom with her in tow, took a seat on the toilet lid, she had her answer. Part of her wanted to pout, but when he snipped and then gently jerked the stitches free from her wound, her skin tingled. When he finished with the stitches on her hip, Max turned her to the side so he could do the same to the stitches in her back.

  Sam rolled her shoulders and tested the newfound freedom. “Ahh.” It felt so good to be able to move without feeling as if attached to a rubber band that only allowed so much give before snapping back.

  “Okay, all set.” Max slapped her butt then handed her back her panties. Then he headed out of the bathroom.

  Frowning, she slipped the blue lace up her legs and over her hips then followed him. “Don’t you want me to take yours out?”

  He smiled. “I’ve already removed them.” He spun, giving her his backside so she could see for herself. “Didn’t you notice?” he asked over his shoulder, one brow lifted.

  Sam curled her lips inward. Oh, she noticed many things but his stitches were not one of them. “I guess I was too busy with other things.” Even now, his firm ass captivated her attention.

  “Besides, don’t you need to get to the mountain before Brad leaves for the day?”

  “In a hurry to get rid of me?” she asked, hands fisted on her hips, studying Max’s demeanor. “Why?” Giving herself a mental head slap, she remembered. “Did you find what you needed in Kevin’s file? Did you get a copy of FalconView already?”

  “Downloading as we speak. Otherwise, I’d go with you.”

  Yeah, right. What did he hope to find? What didn’t Max want her to know? Pivoting, Sam went to the closet, yanked a sweater over her head, shimmied into a pair of polypropylene tights, and then jerked jeans over the top of those. From the floor she snatched up a pair Gore-Tex boots, carried them to the bedroom where she finished dressing.

  Jeez. For some reason she was pissed. She didn’t know why. She shouldn’t be. He agreed to let her go her own way. Agreed? Excuse her! Was she nuts? Since when did she need or go looking for a man’s approval. Was that it?

  With a shake of her head, Sam answered herself. She stood, marched past Max, ignoring him, heading downstairs. Apparently, he wasn’t finished with her because he followed her descent, tugging up a pair of jeans as he took the stairs.

  Once she had her coat on, she spun back to face him. “What? I thought you agreed with my plan?”

  “Whoa.” He held up his hands in front of him. “I just wanted to walk you out, and tell you to be safe.”

  One of his hands snaked out and wrapped around her bulky waist. “Be safe, okay? And miss me,” he added just before his lips descended over hers.

  She groaned, wrapped her arms around his neck, and lost whatever coherent retort she had. When he released her, Sam had to catch her breath. She wondered why she was going to leave this human heating blanket to follow a jackass in the cold.

  Reflexively, she looked at her hand that still held the ring. Oh, yeah, so she could confront Brad about the diamonds. Without another word, she left.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Grinning, Max shut the door behind Sam and headed back up the stairs. Did she really think he would just let her go out on her own? Like he would change his mind about her safety. Ha! No. Knowing Samantha’s determination to follow through on her notion of confronting Brad, like the guy would fess up to being a thief at the least, at worst…he didn’t know.

  The blue progress bar displayed on the screen indicated the FalconView software finished downloading. Max sat down on the bed, got comfortable, pulled the computer onto his thighs, and got to work. Fifteen minutes later, he had FalconView installed and thirty minutes after that he had figured out how to use it.

  He rubbed his palms together. “Okay, little brother, let’s see what you’ve got.”

  Before he could get an answer, his phone rang. Max snatched it up. “And?”

  “Got her. She’s pulling into the resort parking lot.”

  Relief soared through him and out on a long exhale. “Thanks. I know you’re doing this on your own time. I appreciate it.”

  “No problem.” It may not be a problem at the moment, but when Mickey found out their boss wouldn’t be too happy that Max brought Jake in for backup on a personal mission.

  “Sam’s quick and determined. Keep tight on her tail.”

  “With pleasure.”

  Jake’s chuckle grated. “I meant stay close.”

  Again, he laughed. Damn. He knew Jake was taunting him, but Max was not in the mood. “Listen. Whoever is involved already tried to kidnap and kill her. Sam would rather jump in feet first than fall back and use her head to strategize or get help. Apparently, she’s never read the Art of War.”

  “No worries. I’ll cover her six,” he drawled. “Her very fine six. Oops, she’s on the move, gotta go.”

  Jake cut the connection.

  “Shit.” Max snapped the cell phone closed and slammed it onto the bed. He should be there with Sam. “Damn stubborn woman.”

  Pressing his palms to his eyes, Max willed any negative thoughts out of his mind. Sam would be careful. She was not stupid, but in case she got into trouble, Jake would be there. With a shake of his head, he returned his attention to the computer.

  His nose practically pressed to the screen, Max could not believe his eyes. With the FalconView application, his brother had cleverly added seemingly invisible layers to hide map coordinates. Map coordinates. Un-freakin-believable, Max thought scratching his head. Now all he had to do was figure out where the coordinates mapped.

  That should be easy enough. He went to a GPS site, plugged in the coordinates, clicked the convert button and waited. Max didn’t have to wait long. Before he knew it a Google map displayed on his screen with a red pin marking the spot. He zoomed in on the pin. Blinking rapidly, he cleared his vision. He sat back, staring at the map, then leaned forward, his face less than an inch from the monitor, eyes squinted. He looked hard at the pinned location.

  The cottage? Max shook his head. The little red pushpin was fixed to the cottage. How? Why? That made absolutely no sense. When he first arrived, he had searched the place from top to bottom looking for any clue to his brother’s whereabouts. He hadn’t found one thing to lead him to Kevin. He didn’t get it. What could possibly be there?

  Shoving the question aside, Max got to his feet. There was only one way for him to stop wondering. He tossed on a T-shirt and sweater, grabbed his jacket and laptop, and headed out.

  “Damn it, Kevin,” he cursed as he backed out of the garage, “why couldn’t you just tell me what was going on? At least leave it in the stupid letter. Why all the secrecy?”

  On an exhalation of breath, Max punched the gas pedal of his SUV, felt it jerk and then lurch forward as the vehicle accelerated.

  * * * *

  Brrr. The mountain was freezing. Sam pulled the face warmer up, covering the lower half of her face. She must be crazy chasing Brad down in this cold. Or, was she crazy because she thought Brad could be guilty of switching the diamonds or worse? They weren’t best friends, but they had managed to salvage something of their friendship after his disastrous marriage proposal. Would her accusation destroy what was left? Did she care? Not if Brad was responsible, even if he
wasn’t. She shrugged. Sometimes it was best to cut your losses.

  To Sam’s mind, Brad wasn’t any great loss, and she tugged open the door.

  “Uh,” someone grunted.

  Spinning to apologize, Sam came face-to-chest with the person she just hit in the stomach with her elbow. She had to crane her neck to see him. All she saw were green eyes, moss green, beautiful, and …twinkling. Then the giant of a man smiled down at her.

  “I…I’m so sorry. Are you all right? Did I hurt you?” Without thinking, she patted the man’s stomach, reassuring herself she had not damaged the guy.

  Her roaming hands halted underneath the man’s much larger hands. “You keep that up and we’ll be fast friends.”

  Sam heard the lilting southern drawl then his words became clear in her mind. She jerked her hands back on a gasp. “Sorry.” Embarrassed, she mumbled the apology. His smile grew even bigger, brighter. Wow!

  “You pack a heck of a wallop, little lady, but it’d take more than your elbow to take me down. The only way you could hurt me is if you broke my heart.”

  Did he really think that line worked? Sam rolled her eyes heavenward and turned back. “Glad you’re okay,” she told the stranger over her shoulder.

  “Thanks for caring, Shugar.”

  There it was again. That sweet southern drawl created images of warm, sunny days in bed while the man made slow, thorough love to her. Oh—my—gosh! Where had that come from? Samantha turned to look for the Neanderthal, but he had disappeared.

  Shrugging, she walked farther into the base lodge, her gaze tracking around the large room and all of its occupants. She searched for Brad’s rusty-brown hair atop a red and white Ski Patrol jacket among the wall-to-wall people. No luck.

  Stomping her feet, brushing snow off, she headed toward the snack bar.

  “Can I help you?”

  Sam gave the young, freckle-faced brunette a friendly smile. “I sure hope so. Do you know where I can find Brad Rosenthal?”

  The girl’s face scrunched up, giving Sam’s question serious thought. “Nope.” That was disappointing. “But I’ve only been here for an hour. Joe might know.”

  “Who’s Joe?”

  The cashier pointed across the wall-to-wall of people at a tall, lanky blonde. Seeming to sense someone pointing at him, Joe turned in her direction, gave a wave, and started to walk.

  Jeez, did they only hire young and cute people to work at the mountain?

  Joe inclined his head, offering her a smile. Sam thought the kid probably had to beat all the girls away with a stick. “Did you want a snowboarding lesson, ma’am?”

  Ma’am? Okay, she no longer thought Joe was cute.

  “This lady is looking for Brad.” The cashier left them.

  “Have you seen him?”

  “Yeah.”

  Sam waited for him to finish, thought he never would, and then he finally spoke.

  “I think he headed up to mid-mountain.”

  “Thanks.” She nodded and slipped her hands back into her gloves.

  “You sure you don’t want a snowboarding lesson? We can make it a private lesson.” Joe winked. “I can give you a good rate. It’d be fun.”

  Her mouth opened in surprise. The kid winked at her.

  “Besides, Brad’s too old for you.”

  She laughed and shook her head. “Thanks, Joe.” She zipped her jacket up, pulled her hat over her ears, and then made eye contact with the young man. “If Brad isn’t there maybe I’ll take you up on the lesson.”

  “Here’s my card.” He shoved it into her hip pocket. “Just ask for me. Any time.”

  Joe whistled his way back through the throng of people. Sam wanted to burst out in a fit of laughter. Instead, she headed out, her goal The Crossings lodge at mid-mountain.

  As she pushed open the door, a giggle burst out. She couldn’t hold it back. So far, today was turning out to be very interesting. First, Max lets her leave without him as chaperone, then she hurts some man who turns around and tries to sweet talk her, then some kid who could have been her younger brother hit on her. The whole Max thing was weird enough, but she knew she didn’t look that good all bundled up in snowman gear.

  She was still laughing to herself when she lifted her snowboard from the rack and a voice asked, “What’s so funny?”

  Sam spun and just missed nailing the southern giant in the nuts with her snowboard. She pulled her lips in between her teeth and pressed them together, trying desperately not to laugh. Why was she so klutzy around this guy? Then again, maybe he was the klutz.

  “You’re one dangerous lady.”

  “And you have fast hands.” Sam cringed as soon as the words came out.

  He gave a low chuckle. “No harm, no foul.”

  Snowboard in hand and a little more cautious, Sam moved in line for the lift. She wanted to get the confrontation with Brad over. Maybe that was why she’d suddenly become accident-prone. Waiting in the long line, she looked around. Giant guy was a few people back. He grinned at her. Was he following her?

  With a shake of her head, she turned her attention forward. Stepping into her binding and strapping the safety leash to her ankle, Sam was next in line for the lift. As she sailed above the mountain, she inhaled the cold crisp air, watched the sun glisten off the snow, and relaxed. The sense of freedom that usually took over the moment her snowboard hit the mountain finally kicked in.

  When she reached the crest where the lift shoved her off, adrenaline pumped through her. She stepped her right foot into the binding, aimed the front of her board downward and took off, gliding down the fresh snow, smiling beneath her face warmer. Just when she would have picked up speed, she had to cut left toward the mid-mountain resort, The Crossings.

  Locking her board in the rack, Sam frowned at the absence of a Ski Patrol snowmobile.

  TWENTY-NINE

  Standing outside the cottage holding a GPS with the coordinates he had downloaded before he left Samantha’s, his cell phone beeped. Weird, he must have hit a dead zone on the drive over. He missed a call from Sam. He fumbled with the phone getting it open, pressed the button and listened.

  “You have one new message,” the computerized voice stated.

  “Max? Max, where are you? You rat.” Hearing the irritation in Sam’s voice, he could not help the grin that curved his lips. “Okay. Listen. I think I’m being followed. Some wicked tall guy with the most gorgeous moss green eyes and southern drawl.” Whoa. Was she kidding? Tilting his head to the side Max visualized Jake’s face. I’ll be damned. Jake got close enough for her to see his eyes. “The guy seems harmless. I mean he hasn’t done anything other than chase me around the mountain like a puppy dog so I’m not bailing out yet, but I wanted to keep you informed. Which, by the way, is obviously way more than you’re doing.” He gave a single laugh at her sarcastic snap. “Where are you? I haven’t found Brad yet. I’m heading back out and going higher up the mountain. Wherever you are, stay safe.”

  He knew Sam was safe, even though, shaking his head, he could not believe she made her tail.

  Smiling to himself, Max returned his cell to his pocket and his attention to the GPS. According to the device, whatever he was supposed to locate was inside the house. Max shook his head. “No way,” he muttered, slid the key in the lock, and let himself in.

  Eyes narrowed on the GPS screen, Max snorted in feigned amusement. He felt like the seeker in a game of Hot and Cold, only there weren’t any other players. The GPS mocked him. “You’re getting hotter, hotter. Now colder. Hot. Hotter.” He would rather play that game with Samantha.

  When he stepped into the bedroom he pictured the handheld device saying, “Hotter. You’re burning up.” He smiled. In his imagination, the voice that taunted him with those words belonged to Sam.

  Tossing the GPS on the bed, he pushed Sam’s sexy voice out of his mind, and concentrated on the task at hand, locating whatever Kevin had wanted him to find. He opened every drawer in the dresser and nightstands, knocked on t
he sides and bottoms for false fronts. On his knees, he checked under the bed and beneath the furniture and only came up with dust bunnies. In the closet, besides inspecting the obligatory shoeboxes that every closet seemed to hold, Max checked the pockets of the clothing left behind. Woohoo. He found five bucks in a pair of jeans. It wasn’t until he shoved the clothing aside he remembered the underground tunnel.

  Shit! He slapped his forehead. Why hadn’t he thought of that sooner? Because, he thought, as he flipped the switch to open the hidden door in the back of the closet, all that was down there was a tunnel. A very dank, dim, narrow tunnel. Before descending into darkness, he ran into the kitchen, opened a drawer next to the sink, and grabbed the flashlight.

  To be safe, Max pressed the switch so the false closet wall clicked shut behind him. With the small light illuminating his way, he descended the stairs to the underground tunnel. Sweeping the flashlight along the walls and floors as he went, he searched for a clue. As he searched, he wondered how many people had passed through the granite walls, walked on the dirt floor when it used to be a stop on the Underground Railroad.

  He couldn’t imagine being smuggled like cargo or cattle cramped down a short, narrow cavern where the moist walls seemed to close in, having to maintain as much silence as possible so as not to alert the wrong people to your presence when all you really wanted to do was scream. But, despite the fear, and knowing the air of freedom was within your grasp, you would bite your tongue before making a sound. Max shivered as a chill ran up his spine at the crystal clear image in his mind.

  He reached the end of the tunnel, coming to the door he had used when he and Samantha had escaped. He hadn’t found anything. Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned against the door. “It’s got to be here. Where is it, Kevin?”

  A niggling sensation crawled up his neck. He bent his head and reached up to rub at it. As he did, the flashlight in his other hand swung downward and caught something in its beam. He froze. After settling his pounding heart, he brought his arm back up in the same motion.