Snowed In

by Cassie Miles

  “Look for open or broken windows,” he said. “There are only two other doors down here, correct?”

  “One at the end of each hallway.”

  To the right, there were four bedroom suites, including her private area. Each had a king-size bed and private bathroom. Blake’s vigilance was unflagging as he entered each separate room and searched with his Berretta held at the ready. His single-minded focus reminded her that this was more than a tour of her B and B.

  She and Emily had been fired upon. They’d gone over the edge of the cliff to escape. Clearly, the guys in ski masks weren’t with BOOM. Who were they? Why had they threatened her and Emily? They had to be after something. But what? She had the feeling that Blake knew more than he was saying, and she needed to get some answers from him.

  When he bent down to examine the lock on a side door that opened onto a deck, she asked, “What are you looking for?”

  “This door doesn’t work on the keypad system.”

  “Only the front door,” she said. “I lock the others at night. There’s a set of keys in my room and another set in the front desk.”

  “I’ll need copies of those keys,” he said.

  Before she could ask why, he was striding down the hallway, and she had to run to catch up. At the other end of the B and B was a reading room with computer hookups that linked into a landline phone system. Wi-Fi was unreliable at the B and B, as were cell phones. Opposite the reading room was a game room. At the far end was the largest bedroom suite with an attached parlor.

  After they’d checked the final door, she rested the baseball bat on her shoulder and asked, “Is it safe to bring Emily inside?”

  He nodded. “It doesn’t look like there’s been a break-in. Just to be safe, I’ll go upstairs. How many bedrooms are up on the second floor?”

  “Eight,” she said, “four single and four double. And the third floor is an open dormitory with twelve single beds. It’s mostly used by scout troops and nature groups.”

  “What’s your total capacity?”

  “I’ve handled forty, but that’s really too many.” She didn’t want to get sidetracked by a discussion of the B and B. “I have a couple of questions.”

  “Go ahead.”

  When he pulled off his cap, his dark brown hair fell over his forehead. Stubble outlined his chin, and she knew his look wasn’t meant as a fashion statement; he just hadn’t had time to shave. He was undeniably handsome but distant. His eyes were cool as glass.

  As he gazed at her, Sarah realized she was still wearing her practical but unflattering wool knit cap with the earflaps. She must look like an idiot with her cap and her snow pants and her baseball bat. She yanked the cap off and made an attempt to fluff her hair. She unzipped her parka. Big mistake. Underneath, she was wearing flannel pajamas with puffy clouds and naked cherubs.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Your questions.”

  “Right,” she said. “Back at the clearing, how did you stop those guys?”

  “They weren’t expecting resistance, and I got the drop on them. I wounded two of them, shot one in the arm and the other in the leg.” He shrugged as though that was nothing. “It’s unfortunate they got away.”

  “Who were they? What did they want from us?”

  He shook his head. “I’m not sure.”

  “If you had to take a guess, what would you—”

  “Waste of time.”

  She tried a different tactic. “When I wanted to call the sheriff, you said it was covered. Did you talk to him before?”

  “Thanks for the reminder.” He took out his cell phone and punched in a number as he went down the hall toward the front door.

  Sarah had no choice but to jog behind him. His big, tough ranger routine was wearing thin. She was tempted to tap him on the head with her Louisville Slugger. “Who are you calling?”

  “I contacted Deputy David Kovak as soon as I arrived.”

  “He’s a good man.”

  “You know him?”

  “A little.”

  “Didn’t think I’d need his assistance tonight, but I guess I was wrong.”

  While Blake had a terse conversation with the deputy and told him to come to the B and B, she planted herself on the staircase so he couldn’t dash upstairs without talking to her first. As soon as he ended the call, she demanded, “You need to be honest with me. What’s going on?”

  “What time does Jeremy get in tomorrow?”

  “Not until after noon. He’s coming from D.C. with his father.”

  “And Emily’s father?”

  “The senator doesn’t arrive until the day after tomorrow,” she said.

  Blake smirked. “When the two of them meet, all hell is going to break loose.”

  “Maybe it already has,” she said. “Is what happened tonight related to the general or the senator?”

  “Both men have enemies.”

  He came toward the staircase. Though she was standing on the second step, she was only a few inches taller than he was. His composure was truly disconcerting.

  “What do you mean?” she asked. “What kind of enemies?”

  His gaze met hers. For a moment, she caught a glimpse of concern in the depths of those very blue eyes. “The general has received death threats.”

  Chapter Three

  Blake looked beyond Sarah’s shoulder to the darkness at the top of the staircase. Since the doors to the outside remained locked and the windows intact, he doubted that he’d find any intruders hiding in the second-floor bedrooms. A greater potential for trouble came from the woman blocking his way. She didn’t appear to be scared, but the pink blush on her cheeks betrayed a high level of emotion. She was angry. And he didn’t blame her. Asking her to remain calm in the face of potential death threats was a lot. She loved this B and B and wouldn’t want to see it turned into a battlefield.

  “You should have told me.” Her chin jutted out. “As soon as you arrived, you should have told me about the danger.”

  “I didn’t know how serious it was.” Not a valid excuse. “But you’re right. You should have been informed.”

  “Who’s making these threats?”

  “We don’t know.” He glanced at his G-Shock wristwatch. Kovak had promised to be here in half an hour. Blake had given him the license plate number on the van, and there might still be a chance to catch the four men in ski masks. “I should make a sweep of the upstairs before—”

  “Whoa.” She braced the baseball bat in front of her chest. “You’re not going anywhere until you explain. Why is the general being threatened? Are we talking about terrorists?”

  As a ranger, Blake had been trained in how to do an interrogation and how to withstand questioning. He could stonewall with the best of them, but those tactics didn’t apply to a conversation with a pretty innkeeper. He and Sarah were on the same side.

  “I’ll be as truthful as I can,” he said.

  “That’d be a change of pace.”

  “What? I haven’t lied.”

  “But you haven’t told me everything.”

  “There wasn’t much to tell. The threats haven’t gone beyond the level of harassment. The general had his home office ransacked and his computer hacked. There was a bullet hole in one of his vehicles. He’s been getting hate mail. It started when he was put in charge of a budget committee deciding which military bases and which hospitals will have their funding cut.”

  “A budget committee?” She sounded shocked. “These threats are about funding?”

  “Everything in D.C. eventually comes around to money.”

  “It’s so petty.”

  “But still dangerous. Homegrown assassins can be just as lethal as machete-wielding terrorists.”

  “But not those guys in the clearing,”
she said. “You didn’t have much of a problem dealing with them.”

  Though he would have preferred coming off as a superhero who had handily defeated a team of highly trained hit men, her assessment was correct. “They weren’t pros.”

  “Are you going after them?”

  “When Kovak gets here, I’m going to try.”

  Standing on the staircase, she frowned as she tapped the head of the baseball bat against her palm. With her honey-colored hair curling in disarray and her parka open to show pink cherubs with round bottoms flying across her flannel pajamas, she should have looked ridiculous. But her erect posture gave her a certain dignity, and her dark eyes were serious.

  “Go ahead and do what you need to do,” she said.

  “Are you giving the orders?”

  “When it comes to my property, I am.” Again, her sharp, little chin lifted in challenge. “You take care of the bad guys. I’ll make sure that Emily and I are safe.”

  “How are you planning to do that?”

  “Reinforcements,” she said. “I’m going to call the Reuben twins to patrol the house and grounds. Both of these young men can shoot the fangs off a rattlesnake at a hundred yards.”

  “Are they reliable?”

  “They’ve worked for me since they were fifteen. In addition to chopping wood and handyman repairs, they know how to make a bed and prepare a proper table setting.”

  He nodded his approval. “Make your call.”

  “Actually, the twins will be happy to meet you. Their family’s hardware store hasn’t been doing well, and the boys have been talking about enlisting.”

  Blake probably wasn’t the best person to act as an army recruiter. At age thirty-five, he was on the verge of retirement and had just one last tour of duty in about six months. Though he’d dedicated his life to the military, he’d had enough of war. “Do you mind stepping aside so I can search upstairs?”

  She leaned her back against the wall beside the staircase. “Knock yourself out.”

  As he climbed the stairs, he brushed past her and caught a whiff of a cinnamon scent, maybe her shampoo. A spicy fragrance suited her. In many ways, she reminded him of the strong, decisive women he served with.

  The staircase bisected the upstairs hallway, and the carved wood bannister extended to his left in a balcony that looked down over a two-story view of the entryway. This open area was probably meant as a staging place for guests hauling their suitcases upstairs, but it made a perfect spot for a spy to quietly hide and observe the comings and goings at the B and B.

  Earlier tonight, when he’d taken his secret tour of the house, Blake had gotten a sense of protectiveness and security. The eight bedrooms on the second floor could be easily defended. They were inaccessible except by the central staircase and a narrow stairway at the south end that communicated with the kitchen and went down into the basement. As far as he could tell, all the windows had been upgraded to triple pane, a thickness that not only kept in the warmth but made the glass almost bulletproof. The doors were heavy and well fitted. Jeremy had been accurate when he compared this place to a modern-day fortress.

  Blake checked the bedrooms one by one, looking in the closets, poking in the corners and peeking under the beds. The furniture was sturdy pine, polished to a high gleam. And the rest of the decor was simple—as clean as the West Point cadet barracks but not as spartan. In addition to a breakfast menu and a map of the local trails, every room had a hint of nature—simple things, like a basket of pinecones or a Christmas cactus or a rock garden. He imagined Sarah planning these subtle touches that made her B and B feel welcoming and warm. He liked Bentley’s Bed-and-Breakfast and hoped the wedding could be held here in spite of the attack in the clearing. This location was preferable to a hotel, where he wouldn’t have as much control.

  The third floor was a long, open room that extended all the way to the sloping eaves on one side. On the opposite side was a row of single beds against a pine wall that probably had storage behind it—a good hiding place with access through a padlocked door. Since the lock showed no sign of tampering, he felt satisfied that the area was secure.

  Back on the second floor, he paused by the banister and looked down into the entryway where the two women were talking. Emily paced in an agitated dance. Her blond curls bounced in rhythm with her high-pitched voice as she waved her cell phone and ranted, “I can’t believe Jeremy suggested that we have the wedding somewhere else. Or that we postpone. Getting everybody’s schedule lined up was impossible.” Her tone shot up to a screech. “Impossible.”

  Blake took a step back so he couldn’t be seen. Confronting that blonde maelstrom was akin to a suicide mission.

  “Calm down,” Sarah said in her soothing alto. “Jeremy was just worried about you.”

  “This was exactly the wedding I wanted. And so did Jeremy. We never planned on a three-hundred-person fancy ceremony where we didn’t know half the guests. Just family, just a nice cake and a few flowers on Valentine’s Day, that’s all I wanted.”

  “And that’s what you’ll have,” Sarah promised. She’d changed out of her pajamas and parka to a pair of well-worn jeans and an oversize olive-green sweater with drooping sleeves that she’d pushed up on her slender wrists. She raked her fingers through her shining hair. Those vivid blond curls with the red highlights were the first thing Blake had noticed when they met. Then he’d been captivated by the intensity in her eyes with irises so dark that they were almost black.

  “We should have eloped,” Emily wailed. “Run off to Vegas and gotten married.”

  “You could still do that.”

  “I’m not going to take my vows in front of a fake Elvis.” Emily stamped her little foot. “What does Blake say? It’d make a difference if he said we should do the ceremony here. Please talk to him, Sarah.”

  “Why would that make a difference?”

  “Please.”

  Through the front windows, he saw the flashing lights of a police cruiser. Kovak had made good time in getting here. With any luck, he and the deputy could track down the men from the drilling site. Blake rushed down the staircase and opened the door. Two other officers accompanied Kovak. At a glance, Blake could tell that these were the kind of men he was accustomed to working with. They all wore Kevlar vests and police utility belts.

  As soon as they entered, a truck pulled up and parked. Two husky young men bounded onto the porch—the Reuben twins. In their jeans, boots and parkas, they were a perfectly matched set with shaggy brown hair, stubble and toothy grins. Though the boys were doing their best to act cool, they quivered with excitement when they saw the bulletproof vests. Sarah pulled them aside to explain the situation.

  Blake turned to Kovak. “Were you able to trace the license plate on the van?”

  “The vehicle belongs to Tyler Farley.” He spoke with a slow Western drawl. “Farley and his pals are known hell-raisers but I wouldn’t have pegged them as assassins.”

  “Why not?”

  “Too many beers. Too few brains.”

  As Blake had thought, Farley and his friends weren’t pros. They hadn’t even been clever enough to disguise their license plate. “Do they live nearby?”

  “They’ve got a cabin about twenty minutes from here,” Kovak said. “I already sent one of my men to keep an eye on the place. And I’ve alerted the local hospitals and emergency clinics. They’ll call me if anybody shows up with a gunshot wound.”

  “Contact your man. See if he’s close.”

  While Kovak made his call, Blake considered the possibilities. Farley must have been hired to pull off that stunt at the drill site. If they arrested him and his pals, Blake was sure he could convince these backwoods bad guys to give up the name of the person they were working for. The dangerous complication came from their possession of a semiautomatic assault rifle that probably had an il
legal magazine capacity under Colorado’s current gun laws.

  Kovak held up his cell phone. “My man is there. The van is parked out front, and all the lights in the cabin are on.”

  “Tell him not to engage until we get there,” Blake said. “If they leave, he should follow.”

  “Yes, sir,” Kovak said. “I’m thinking we can bring these boys in without firing a single shot.”

  Blake was glad to hear they were on the same page. As soon as Kovak finished his call, he said, “Let’s move. You take your car, and I’ll follow.”

  A flash of strawberry-blond hair zoomed up beside him. “I’ll ride with you.”

  Though she had a rifle in her hand, he wasn’t about to let Sarah ride shotgun. “We had an agreement,” he reminded her. “You stay safe, and I—”

  “I promise not to get in the way.” She looked toward Kovak. “Do you care if I tag along?”

  “Always glad to have your help, Sarah.”

  Blake tried one more time to dissuade her. “You can’t leave Emily here alone.”

  “I trust the twins to keep her safe. They’re spending the night.”

  She dangled Blake’s car keys from her fingers. “Should I drive?”

  Without a word, Blake took the keys and headed for the door. He could think of only one reason Sarah would leave her beloved B and B to go after the bad guys: she wanted to talk to him about the wedding. Cake orders and flower arrangements were the last thing on his mind.

  When he pulled away from the house, she fastened her seat belt and asked, “Have you talked to Jeremy yet?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Good, because when you do I hope you’ll tell him that the wedding plans shouldn’t be changed. Emily has her heart set on this ceremony.”

  “My decision about where the wedding should be held will be based on risk assessment,” he said coldly. “Protecting the general is my number one priority.”

  “But you’re also the best man,” she said. “That means it’s your job to make sure the bride and groom are both happy.”

  “Don’t tell me my job.”