by Nina Bruhns
Mallory was fuming. Though her mistaking him for one of Considine’s people was his fault since he hadn’t identified himself, it looked like it was up to her to explain the gravity of their situation and—though it left a sour taste in her mouth—to extend the olive branch. Tamping down on her anger, she decided to try a different approach. She removed her boots and replaced his jacket on the peg. Pushing the hair that had become wet from the snow back from her brow, she joined him at the counter.
“You’re on vacation.” That was the only reason she could think for him being up here. Though she preferred a white sand beach and a Caribbean sun, to each his own. “Look, I get that and I’m sorry to crash your R and R.” And she was. She knew how important down time was in their line of work. “Now that I have, though, I’ll bring you up to speed on how I ended up here—”
“Don’t.”
“You don’t understand—”
His pupils darkened. “I don’t care how you came to be here. As soon as the snow lets up, I’ll get you off this mountain and into town. You can forget you were ever here. That’s what I intend to do.”
Mallory struggled for calm. “Look—”
“No. You look.” He set the pot down on the counter with a thump. “First you jump me and try to stab me, and now you try to steal my truck. Like I said before, you’re some piece of work, Burke.”
Mallory’s anger flared. “The reason I jumped you and tried to drive out of here just now was because I thought you were working for the man I’m investigating. Does the name Paul Considine mean anything to you?”
“You already dropped that name and I told you, never heard of him.”
“Paul Considine is a crime lord. He knows that I’m on to him. He’s looking for me. When he finds me here, he’ll kill me and now, you, too.”
Gage eyes blazed. “Just what the hell are you into for the Feds?”
“I was looking into the disappearance of a nineteen-year-old woman.”
Gage crossed his arms. “The FBI doesn’t investigate missing persons cases.”
“The investigation started out unofficial. I follow missing persons cases involving young women.”
Gage’s gaze grew intent. Hers was the kind of response that sparked more questions, but he didn’t press her for clarification, maybe wanting her to get the entire story out. Whatever his reason, she was glad. She had no intention of sharing that part of her life with him.
“The day before the woman vanished,” Mallory went on, “she’d been seen at a strip club. When local police questioned the club manager, he said that the girl had come in looking for a job as a dancer, but had been turned away because she wasn’t talented. That would have been the end of it, but I found out that another woman, one year older, who had disappeared a few months earlier, had also been at that club.”
Mallory rubbed her forehead. “I went to my superior with what I’d learned. He agreed that the connection between the women’s disappearance at the club was worth pursuing so I got a job there tending bar. I found out that twelve women had been abducted over a period of three months and are being held, awaiting transport out of the country. The club is a front for human traffickers.”
Gage’s mouth tightened.
Mallory laced her fingers in a fierce grip. “I found out where the women are being kept, but haven’t had a chance to take that information back to the Bureau. The trafficking operation is run by a man known only as the ‘Don’ but I believe the Don to be Paul Considine, a local organized crime boss.”
Gage swore under his breath. “How did you get on Considine’s radar?”
“My cover was blown.” She shook her head slowly. “I don’t know how that happened. I got away before he could question me about what I learned of his operation and made my way here.” She fixed Gage with a look. “I know you said you’d get me out of here when the storm ends but by now Considine is tracking me. He’ll have a fleet of snowmobiles. He will find me. That’s a given. It’s only a matter of when.” A chill went through her and she hugged herself.
Gage went to the kitchen and took his service revolver from one of the drawers along with spare ammunition. He stood looking at the bullets then exhaled a deep breath.
Mallory could see there weren’t many. “Is that all the ammo you have?”
“Yeah.” He closed his fist around the few additional rounds. “We need to see what we have around here that can be used as a weapon.”
He went to the door and put on his parka.
Mallory gaped at him. “What are you doing?”
He reached for his boots. “What does it look like?”
“It looks like you’re going outside.”
“A gold star for you.”
Mallory crossed the room to where he stood, doing all she could to keep from dragging her injured leg. “Haven’t you been listening to what I said about Considine? His people could be out there, watching this place. Waiting to make a move.”
“The snow hasn’t let up. Visibility is still almost nil. And it’s light out. If you were going to make a move on us, wouldn’t you wait until dark?”
Mallory chewed her lip. She and Gage would be at their most vulnerable at night. Considine would take that advantage. She nodded.
“You take a look in here,” Gage said. “I’ll see what I can scrounge up outside. I have a flare gun in the back of the truck for emergencies. There’s a shed out back. I’ll see if there’s anything in there we can use.” He picked up the shovel that was beside the hearth.
No doubt he’d need to dig out the door to the shed before he could get inside. He’d be out there for a while. Mallory rubbed her forehead. She was torn between wanting the flare gun and anything else Gage could find and concern for his safety. Added to the threat of Considine, was the lack of visibility and the snow drifts that presented another form of danger. “Should we tie a rope around your waist so you’ll be able to find your way back here?”
“Not necessary. The shed’s not far. I’ll be right back.”
He opened the door, letting in a gust of air so cold, Mallory sucked in a breath. With her arms wrapped around herself, she went into the kitchen to begin her own search. Under the sink, she found a fire extinguisher. In a drawer, were a couple of wicked kitchen knives. The knives and extinguisher could only be used if Considine was in close. As she gathered the items, she hoped he wouldn’t have the chance to get that close.
How much time had passed since Gage left? She couldn’t read the time from where she stood and returned to the living area. As she watched the hands on the small clock on the mantel move around the dial, she didn’t think the man had an understanding of “right back”. She’d heard of ranchers venturing out during snow storms and becoming disoriented and lost within a few steps. Just how ‘out back’ was the shed?
She went to the window in the bedroom that overlooked the back of this property. Wiping her sleeve against the window did nothing more than make her arm cold. With the blowing snow, she certainly couldn’t see a shed, or Gage.
Back in the living area, she looked around the cabin for rope. She found some coiled in a crate beside the hearth, atop a mountain of firewood. When twenty seven minutes had gone by, and Gage still hadn’t returned, she decided enough time had passed. She tied the rope to a support post. Tugging on it, she deemed it secure. As she put on her boots, she wished she still had her jacket.
She was tying the rope around her waist when the door swung inward. Gage, covered in snow, stood on the threshold. She never thought she’d say this about him, but she was thrilled to see him. Mallory stepped back to allow him to enter.
His movements were a little measured, a little stiff as he made his way inside. He set the items he’d brought back with him on the floor. In addition to the flare gun, he’d returned with additional flares, a spool of fence wire, wire cutters, and a can of gasoline.
He paused, taking off one glove and pointed to the rope at her waist. “What are you doing? Don’t tell me you were th
inking of going outside?”
“I was doing more than thinking about it. You’ve been gone for almost half an hour. I was afraid you’d gotten lost in the storm.”
“So you were—what—going to pull a rescue?”
At his tone, she raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I was.”
“That would have been a fool thing to do.”
Mallory bristled. “Really?”
“Yeah, really. While I know my way around this place, you don’t. You would have surely gotten lost and when I got back here, I would have had to go back out looking for you.”
Mallory lifted her brows. “Well, put that way, what an inconvenience that would have been for you. I’m glad I didn’t attempt it.” Her voice dripped sarcasm.
“That makes two of us.”
Granted he had not seen her at her best since they’d met, but she was intelligent and competent. To join the Bureau, she’d been required to pass similar tests to what had been required of him for the police force, including physical and endurance tests and she resented his attitude that she was incapable.
Gage unlaced his boots, then went into the kitchen and set the items on the table. He shrugged out of his parka and slung it over a chair.
Putting aside her resentment for the moment, she focused on mounting their defense against Considine. “What’s the plan?”
“We’re making bombs.”
“What can I do to help?”
Gage picked up the towel on the counter that he’d used after Mallory’s attempt to leave in his truck and dried his face and hair. “There are a few bottles of beer in the fridge. Would you get them? Look for glass bottles or jars as well.”
A few moments later, she closed the fridge door and placed the bottles on the kitchen table. She moved to the pantry cupboard and dug out a jar of spaghetti sauce which she held up.
Gage nodded. “Five in total. Empty them and hand them to me, would you?”
She poured the beer into the sink, then passed the empties to Gage. The sauce went next.
Gage poured gasoline into them. The smells of beer and tomato sauce and the odor of gasoline hung in the air.
When he finished filling the bottles and the jar with the gas, he put his parka on again. “I’m going to plant these.”
“I’ll give you a hand.”
He shook his head. “Would be rough going in the snow with that foot. I’ll do this.”
Since Miles and Hugo had put her in their car, Mallory felt as if her life was spinning out of control and there was nothing she could do about it. She needed to do something to regain that control. She had no intention of blurting that out to Gage. Instead she said, “I’ll be fine. I want to help.”
Gage studied her for a moment, then took his parka from the back of the chair and held it out to her. “Put this on.”
“What about you?”
“Mitch left one in the hall closet.”
Gage returned wearing the extra parka and they left the cabin. The wind shrieked, overriding all other sound. Though Gage was only a couple of feet in front of her, she couldn’t make him out in the blowing snow. It was only when he stopped moving, and she caught right up to him that he became visible again.
Blinking snow from her eyes, Mallory watched as he went about setting the bottles at intervals beneath the Evergreens that grew beyond the cabin. He was establishing a pattern, she realized, placing a bottle beneath each third tree, beginning with the first one in the line, so they’d know where each of the crude bombs was. Then, he dug a hole in the snow to both anchor and conceal a bottle.
Mallory flexed her fingers in the over-sized gloves that had been in the jacket pockets then held out her hand to Gage. He handed one of the bottles to her. She crouched and did as he had.
After they’d finished, he stepped back, surveying their work. The bottles were well hidden in the snow.
“Someone who doesn’t know where to look for them, won’t spot them.” Mallory raised her voice to be heard above the wind.
“Agreed.”
He unwound the spool of wire, cut a length, then strung it between two trees about four feet up from the ground. He repeated this several times, stringing wire between other pairs of trees that grew around the cabin. Whoever came through those trees first would be pulled off the snowmobile. At high speed, the result could be fatal. There was not enough wire for the entire perimeter, and large gaps leading to the cabin remained. Gage pocketed the now empty spool.
Back in the cabin, he tossed the spool into the trash. “If necessary, we’ll use my gun to take out Considine’s men and to set off those charges.”
But his expression was grim and she believed he was thinking as she was, they had Gage’s service revolver with limited ammo, five home made bombs, and six flares, not enough to provide the fire power they’d need against Considine and the contingent of men he’d bring with him.
After they’d removed their outerwear and dried off from the snow, Gage placed his weapon at the small of his back and went about the cabin, drawing curtains. Over the window on the front door which had no covering, he tacked up a towel. As the outside world disappeared, Mallory felt as if she were being entombed and her breaths shortened. Necessary, she told herself to cloak the windows, and worked to regulate her breathing.
Gage secured their environment as best he could. But the cabin hadn’t been designed to be a fort and his efforts at reinforcement were limited. By late afternoon, they’d done all they could and Mallory feared that the only real chance they had was to be gone from here before Considine found them.
Mallory linked her fingers. “How long do you think it will be before we can get off this mountain? How long do snow storms up here typically last?”
“No idea.”
“Didn’t you look into what the weather was expected to be like before you decided to vacation up here?”
“Never said I was on vacation.”
“Then what are you doing up here?”
Without responding, he brushed by her, effectively dismissing her. For the second time that day, Mallory was left to stare after him as he returned to the kitchen. If they’d been anywhere but there she would have walked away from him and never looked back. Just what kind of cop was he? What kind of police captain?
At the window, she pushed aside the drape slightly and noted that the whiteout condition hadn’t eased. If anything, it was snowing harder. Visibility had worsened in the minutes since they’d returned to the cabin from planting the bombs, but Considine would not let the weather stop him.
While the weather now kept her imprisoned as surely as Considine would, the clock was ticking for the women. Worry struck Mallory again and she railed at the snow.
Her shoulders slumped and while the constant sparring with Gage had sapped the last of her energy, the fault for her fatigue wasn’t entirely his. The last eighteen hours had taken a toll. She felt as weak as a kitten. Her head was pounding, her side ached, and she felt as if an anvil was on her chest.
She went to the bathroom in search of pain reliever and to assess her injuries. When she removed the sweat shirt she’d taken from Gage, she saw why she hurt. Her reflection showed deep bruises where the seatbelt had cut across her chest and where her body must have struck the door during the accident. At the very least, she needed a cold compress. As it was now, she could hardly move from the pain.
Passing on the aspirin for the moment, she took a washcloth from the cupboard beneath the sink, and soaked it with cold water. She pressed the cloth to her chest and sighed as some of the pain subsided.
Soaking the cloth again and again, she pressed it to the various bruises on the front of her body. No matter how hard she tried, though, she couldn’t get to the bruises on her back.
“You’ve been in there for thirty minutes. You may recall I didn’t have a chance to finish showering. I’d like to do that sometime before the next millennium.”
Gage’s voice startled her. Mallory swung toward the door and then cried out a
t the movement. The door flew open. Gage charged into the small room. Mallory scooped up her shirt—his shirt—and covered herself. Only partly out of modesty—he’d already seen her unclothed—but more to hide the bruising. The last thing she wanted was to appear vulnerable to this man.
Anger warmed her cheeks. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”
* * *
Eyes narrowed, Gage glanced around, looking for some threat. He found nothing and the tightness in his muscles eased. Until he looked to Mallory. His gaze sharpened on her. She was clutching his shirt to her front, but it didn’t cover all of her. In the time since he’d last seen her, the swelling and bruising on her right side and back had worsened and were now deep and raw. He recalled how he’d slammed her onto her back when he’d taken her down in the bedroom. That had to have hurt. He couldn’t say he’d never put bruises on a woman in the line of duty, and she’d sure as hell presented herself as hostile when she’d attacked him. He reminded himself that she’d been ready to put a hole in him with that glass shiv. Still, though he had cause, he regretted that he’d caused her additional hurt.
She was struggling to apply a damp washcloth to a nasty bruise between her shoulder blades. Gage frowned.
Mallory’s eyes went hot. “If you’ve looked your fill, Broderick, you can close the door behind yourself.”
Her insinuation that he was some sexual deviant getting his jollies peeping on her angered him. “Don’t flatter yourself. You obviously can’t reach that spot on your back. Give me the cloth.” He reached out and gripped the wash cloth.
“I can handle it. Now get out.”
She jerked on his hold but he held on. At that slight jostling, she drew a sharp breath and paled. Gage released the washcloth at once.
He stuck his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “Fine. Suit yourself.”
She acted like he was some pervert. He left the room, but didn’t go far, remaining outside the bathroom door. The woman looked about to keel over. The last thing he needed was for her to fall and break a bone.
Moments passed and she still didn’t come out. He heard fumbling. Something hit the floor and she muttered under her breath, words he didn’t catch. He gritted his teeth. This had gone on long enough.