Snowed In

by Cassie Miles

  “You wouldn’t change a thing,” he said.

  “I’ve got no complaints.” There was, however, a glaring hole in her perfect B and B bubble. Like so many Bentley women before her, Sarah was alone. Though her mother had been an exception, falling in love with her father and raising Sarah and her brother, her mother fit the mold of a strong, independent woman. She’d refused to change her family name and insisted on staying at the B and B until Sarah was old enough to take over. It hadn’t been a surprise when her mom decided on law school.

  Glancing across the table at Blake, she couldn’t believe how much she was talking. Hospitality was all about the guest, and Sarah usually sat back and listened while others chatted. “Enough about me.”

  “I want to hear more,” he said. “This is just starting to get interesting.”

  “Really? You didn’t think the legend about the mystery Frenchman was intriguing? He was supposed to have a lost treasure.”

  “I want to hear about you, your story.”

  He pinned her with his sharp, blue-eyed gaze. And she felt like he could see through her defenses to the core of her loneliness, the fear that she wasn’t meant to find a mate and would live her life alone at the B and B. Not that it was a bad life. Her work with the Forest Preservation Society fulfilled her, and she was constantly busy.

  His gaze invited her to share her truth, but she wasn’t ready. She cleared her throat. “Give me the update on the security plans.”

  “I talked to Jeremy this morning. He’s been monitoring chatter about the general and hasn’t heard anything about a kidnap attempt. I’m hoping that the failure was enough to discourage another try.”

  Not exactly a solid reassurance. “What about Kovak’s investigation?”

  “He’s still digging through records from rental car places and checking hotel registries. We don’t have a name to go on. So this is a lot of guesswork. As for Farley and his friends, they don’t know anything.”

  “We’re stuck at zero?”

  Blake picked up his coffee mug and shrugged. “Forewarned is forearmed.”

  Four-armed? She imagined a Hindu goddess with extra limbs, even though she knew that wasn’t what he meant. “Because we know there’s a threat, we can be prepared. Like you said, four-armed.”

  He picked up the tablet-size computer screen and passed it to her. “This shows the feed from four different cameras. Give it a swipe, and it shows four more directions.”

  She checked out the black-and-white views that showed the approach road and the area surrounding the B and B. Tree branches bobbed in the wind. A glob of snow fell from a high point. In one view, she saw a bull elk with a six-point rack of antlers. “Very cool.”

  “I can transfer these views onto your computer or even a phone,” he said. “At night, the cameras switch to infrared vision.”

  With this kind of surveillance, it would be difficult for anyone to sneak up on them. “The Reuben twins are going to love this. I told them to come back tonight so they could help out.”

  “Good thinking. Even with the cameras, nothing beats an actual guard standing watch. They hear things, sense changes in atmosphere and see things a camera doesn’t notice.”

  He spoke with the voice of experience. He’d been trained for this kind of work, and she appreciated his skill. “I want to thank you,” she said, “for making the wedding possible. Emily really has her heart set on this ceremony.”

  “I’m glad it worked out.” He rose from his seat and stood behind her, watching the display on the screens. “I like it here. I wanted to stay.”

  When he reached past her shoulder to swipe the screen, she felt the warmth of his body and caught a whiff of a woodsy aroma. Her eyelids closed in a prolonged blink, and she allowed herself to enjoy his nearness.

  “I’m glad, too.”

  Her voice was a whisper, more intimate than she’d intended. Being close to him was intoxicating. She needed to be careful before she did something that she regretted.

  Chapter Seven

  By the time Jeremy and General Charles Hamilton were expected to arrive, Sarah had done her prep work in the kitchen and the spaghetti sauce was bubbling, filling the house with a spicy aroma. She’d checked the bedrooms to make sure everything was in order and fielded several phone calls from the wedding caterers, the florist and the cake baker. With all of the other potential disasters looming, it seemed that the February weather might be turning into a problem. Though today was clear and sunny, heavy snow was in the forecast for Friday, and the people providing the food for the wedding were beginning to worry. If the snow started tomorrow, Thursday, they would drop things off ahead of time.

  Standing at the front window, she watched as a silver rental SUV parked in front of the B and B. “They’re here.”

  In a flash of denim and a lacy blouse, Emily ran across the room, flung open the front door, dashed across the porch and flew into her husband-to-be’s waiting arms. Jeremy scooped her off the ground and spun her around in a circle.

  Stepping outside onto the porch, Sarah couldn’t help beaming. The sheer joy radiating from Jeremy and Emily was contagious, but not powerful enough to infect the unsmiling general, who emerged from the front passenger seat.

  “What a grump,” she murmured under her breath.

  “You’re mistaken,” Blake said quietly as he joined her on the porch. “That’s his happy face.”

  She glanced toward him. He’d shaved in honor of the general’s arrival. With the grungy beard gone, she noticed the sharp angle of his jaw and the fullness of his lower lip, the kind of lip that begged to be kissed. Reining in her thoughts, she said, “You look good.”

  “So do you.”

  “Thanks.” She’d made an effort, putting on makeup and brushing her hair to a warm shine. Instead of her usual jeans, she wore gray leggings and a teal shirt under a long cardigan that fell halfway down her thighs in back.

  Since none of the men—not even the two aides—were in uniform, Blake didn’t salute as he descended the stairs from the porch and shook the general’s hand. In spite of the casual jackets, their greeting had an air of military formality.

  “General,” Blake said, “this is Sarah Bentley, the owner of the B and B.”

  The general’s herringbone tweed jacket had been tailored to fit his very square, very straight shoulders. His pure white hair gleamed in the late afternoon sun, and the lines of his face looked like they’d been carved from oak. His voice rumbled in his chest as he said, “Pleased to meet you, Sarah.”

  She gripped his hand firmly. “The pleasure is mine...” No way was she going to spend the next four days calling this man General. “Charles.”

  His white eyebrows lifted a fraction of an inch.

  She continued, “Do you prefer Chuck?”

  “Emily didn’t tell me much about you.”

  Emily was noticing right now. Behind the general’s back, she was making frantic throat-cutting gestures to get Sarah to shut up. Fat chance. The general might be in charge of a battalion of bureaucrats at the Pentagon, but he was in her house now. And she was the boss. If her light teasing offended him, she didn’t really care. After this weekend, she’d never see the man again.

  She smiled into the older man’s chiseled face. “Maybe I should call you Chuckie.”

  “Charles will be fine.”

  “Great, come on inside and let me show you around.”

  With the general and his two aides—Maddox and Alvardo—in tow, she gave the grand tour from the left wing of the house where the game room, library and her office were located to the upstairs where she had given General Hamilton the suite with the bathroom. His aides had bedrooms across the hall.

  “We don’t have room service,” she said. “If you’re hungry during the night, you have to jog down to the kitchen an
d help yourself.”

  The general strode across the room to the pine bedside table. His posture was so rigid that he seemed to creak as he bent at the waist and picked up the telephone receiver. “If there’s no room service, why do you have a phone?”

  “It’s an extension to call out,” she said. “Cell phone service is spotty here.”

  “Not anymore,” Blake said as he reached into the pocket of his jacket and took out two phones. He gave one to the general and the other to Mike Alvardo. “Satellite phones, totally reliable.”

  “Unless there’s a blizzard,” she said with a devilish flutter of her lashes. “Or a bear knocks over the satellite terminal.”

  “Not likely,” he muttered. “The terminal is halfway up a tree.”

  “Bears climb.”

  The general barked a laugh, and they all turned to stare. It would have been less startling if a hundred-year-old spruce jumped out of the forest and started break dancing.

  He laughed again. “I like you, Sarah.”

  “Same here, Charles.”

  “Your B and B is delightful,” he said, “but we haven’t seen all of it.”

  “Is there something you’re looking for?”

  “Where’s your bedroom?”

  Well, well, aren’t you the dirty old man? “Downstairs. And I keep my door locked.”

  “Wise decision.” He charged across the room, taking command. “Let’s go downstairs to the big room with the fireplace and discuss the current situation. FYI, Blake, I don’t believe any of it. My enemies are devious, but they aren’t fools. There’s no logical reason for them to kidnap Emily.”

  * * *

  DOWNSTAIRS, BLAKE POSITIONED himself across the room from the fireplace. He was plenty warm. The general’s last comment had him sweating. Blake agreed that the attack on Emily was neither well planned nor well executed, but the threat was real. The last thing he needed was to foster an attitude of complacency among the wedding guests. They needed to be on their guard.

  He waited for everyone to get settled after they served themselves coffee or tea from a setup on the dining room table. There were also two trays of snacks. One was veggies, and the other chocolate chip cookies. Nobody touched the carrots.

  Jeremy and Emily had pretty much tuned out everyone else. They snuggled together on the sofa, whispering and staring at each other with greedy eyes.

  Of the two aides, Alvardo was taller, more self-composed and probably higher in rank. In a show of efficiency, he’d brought his leather attaché case with him and placed it on the floor beside the rocking chair where he sat with both feet planted firmly on the floor to keep the chair from moving. His build was solid, and his blond hair was military-cut. For the details regarding the threat, Blake knew he’d be consulting with Alvardo.

  That wasn’t a bad place to start. He approached the rocking chair and leaned down. “Jeremy sent me an email list of people who had a beef with the general. Can you give me more detailed information?”

  “Whatever you need.” He lowered his voice. “What’s the deal with Sarah?”

  “Are you asking for yourself or the old man?”

  Alvardo winked. “The general likes to flirt, but I’m the one who wants to know.”

  “She’s single,” Blake said, “and I saw her first.”

  He turned to the other aide, Maddox, and gave him one of the screens showing the views outside the B and B. “If you notice anything suspicious, let me know.”

  Maddox nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  The general sat in a leather wingback chair and placed his coffee mug on the table beside him. “All right, Blake. Give us your briefing.”

  Years of military experience had taught him how to quickly sketch in the outlines of a situation without raising too many questions. He covered the events of the previous night in fewer than five minutes and was about to proceed to the plans for investigating when the general interrupted.

  “A question,” he said. “Did the kidnapper attempt to disguise his voice on the telephone?”

  “He had no reason to,” Blake said. “He thought he was talking to the man he’d hired.”

  “If you heard his voice again, would you recognize it?”

  “I believe so.” There had been nothing unusual about the voice. No regional accent. No unusual pitch. “Do you have samples of voices I can listen to?”

  Alvardo answered, “All conversations coming into the general’s office are routinely recorded. I can get copies of those calls sent to your computer.”

  Blake imagined himself sitting for hours listening to mundane telephone calls. “When we have the suspects narrowed down, that could come in handy.”

  Determining the suspects would be tedious work. He explained that Deputy Kovak would be coming for dinner tonight and bringing the information he’d gathered from the rental car companies and the local hotels. They would compare those names with the lists of people who had a grudge against the general.

  “That’s a lot of names,” the general said. “I’m taking the heat for closing down several military institutions and canceling orders for equipment. People will be put out of work. Their salaries will be cut. They’re mad. And, to tell you the truth, I don’t blame them.”

  “Their anger is misdirected,” Alvardo said. “The death threats should be going to the idiots in Congress who cut the budget in the first place.”

  “I’m sure they are,” Emily piped up. “People don’t hesitate before blasting Congress.”

  “Moving on,” Blake said before they could get embroiled in a political discussion. “General, have any of these threats focused on you personally?”

  “You bet they have.”

  Alvardo reached down and patted his briefcase. “I can show you emails calling the general every name in the book and telling him in detail what they’d do if they met him. There are photographs of him with devil horns, a pitchfork and a spiked tail.”

  “The people who yell and scream don’t worry me,” the general said as he leaned forward in his chair. “It’s those sneaky bastards. The ones who sit back and silently curse my name—the psychopaths.”

  Blake wasn’t a profiler, but he thought psychopath might be an accurate description. He added, “This individual isn’t passive. He’s taking action.”

  “And he’s not a downtrodden minimum-wage worker,” Sarah said as she moved away from the coffee urn and stood near the fireplace. “He had enough money to get here and to rent a vehicle, not to mention the three thousand bucks he paid Farley.”

  “He’s clever enough to uncover inside information.” Blake remembered how the kidnapper had known his name. “We can’t dismiss the kidnapper as a pathetic lunatic.”

  “However,” the general said, “his scheme is deeply flawed. He planned to kidnap Emily, believing he could use her as blackmail to make me do what he wanted.”

  “What’s the flaw?” Sarah asked.

  “As soon as Emily was released, I could reverse my decision.”

  Blake had come to a similar conclusion and had been considering alternatives. “He might have been planning to ask for a ransom. Or he was showing you that he could attack at any time, planting the seeds of fear.”

  “I know the sick rationalizations for kidnapping,” the general said. “I was stationed in the Middle East for nearly ten years.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “By all means, continue with the investigation as planned, but I think we’re going to find out that the kidnapping doesn’t have anything to do with budgets or logic or with me.”

  Sarah picked up the poker and adjusted the logs in the fireplace. The flames picked out red highlights in her hair. “What are you implying, Charles?”

  “There was another motive. Hatred. Revenge. Jealousy. This person wanted to hurt or to fright
en Emily.”

  Blake glanced over at the happy couple on the sofa. Jeremy held her close. His fingers laced through hers. This should have been a blissful time for them, waiting to share their vows and start a life together. Though he hated to add to their troubles, he needed to be thorough. “We should widen the scope of our investigation.”

  “Don’t forget Emily’s father,” the general said.

  She tore free from Jeremy’s embrace and leaped to her feet. “You’ve been waiting for a chance to blame him.”

  “Your father is a public figure. He has enemies.”

  “Daddy would never do anything to put me in danger.”

  “Neither would I,” the general said.

  Blake was about to step between them, but Sarah moved more quickly. Her alto voice was calm and soothing. “We’re all friends here. There’s no reason for us to snipe at each other. The important thing is to find the bad guy and get him out of the way before the wedding.”

  Blake joined her. “Jeremy and Emily, I want you to sit down with Sarah and make a list of people who might want to hurt you.”

  “Why?” Emily demanded.

  “The wedding could be a trigger. The idea that you’re getting married might be the last straw for a person who’s already on the edge.”

  “Oh, please.” Emily tossed her head. “Are we talking about former boyfriends?”

  “Or girlfriends,” Sarah said as she hooked arms with her friend. “There might be some crazy young lady who hired a kidnapper to keep her darling Jeremy Hamilton from getting hitched.”

  The general laughed again. “I certainly do enjoy you, Sarah.”

  “You gentlemen stay out here,” she said. “I’ll take Emily and Jeremy to my office. Dinner is at six so don’t fill up on cookies.”

  While she ushered Emily and Jeremy down the hall, Blake moved to a brown leather chair opposite the general, who was still baring his teeth in a grin. “That Sarah, she’s a pistol, isn’t she?”

  The smile didn’t reach the general’s gunmetal-gray eyes, and his casual posture didn’t hide his stiff shoulders or the corded muscles in his throat. An unseen pressure squeezed him tightly, and he was doing his best to hang on to control.