Rocky Mountain Secrets: Rocky Mountain Sabotage ; Rocky Mountain Pursuit

by Jill Elizabeth Nelson

  Davis did a quick search of the rest of the contents of the car and found nothing out of the ordinary. A suitcase laden with clothing and toiletries indicated she’d planned for a long period away from home. She was running from someone. Eddie? It didn’t add up. Everything he knew about the man pointed to someone who wasn’t violent. Besides, she’d said she was looking for her husband’s friend, which seemed to imply Eddie had sent her.

  On impulse, he dumped the contents of the suitcase on the seat and found what he was after. A small box that contained a set of dog tags. Eddie’s. There would be only one reason the tags would leave a soldier’s body. If he were killed in action.

  Eddie Peterson was dead.

  Shocked, Davis slumped back against the seat, covering his face with his hands. Grief and disbelief made it hard to draw air into his lungs. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the knowledge his friend was dead.

  “Why, God? Why Eddie? He was an innocent,” he said in a broken tone and struggled to hold back the tears.

  Eddie hadn’t been part of the original Scorpion team that was being targeted for death, so Davis had believed him safe.

  Why hadn’t Kyle contacted him about Eddie? His friend knew how close he and Eddie had become. He didn’t like it. Something was wrong. Davis believed if it were humanly possible, Kyle would have reached out to him about Eddie. The fact that he hadn’t didn’t bode well.

  The threat facing the original Scorpions had been real enough for Davis to fake his death. Kyle was probably in grave danger, too, since he was the handler for the group. Had Kyle gone into hiding himself or...was he dead?

  “Please, God, no.” Losing Eddie was gut wrenching enough. He didn’t want to think about the possibility of Kyle being dead, too.

  Both Davis and Kyle had long believed something the Scorpions had witnessed during their time in the Tora Bora region was the real reason behind their systematic annihilation. But Eddie hadn’t been part of those missions. He’d joined the team later on.

  A surge of guilt shot through Davis, catapulting him back three years to that horrific day when his life had changed forever.

  Sometimes at night, he could still hear the firefight exploding around him. See the smoke and the flames. On those really bad nights, he could feel the bullet searing through his flesh as it destroyed his leg.

  That night, well, it had had given him the reason he needed to get out of the CIA, especially after learning the woman he loved had perished in the same battle. His injuries had been severe enough to send him home. But Abby and so many others had sacrificed their lives.

  Nowadays, the physical wounds were all but gone. The only reminder was a limp and the occasional throbbing ache when bad weather moved in. Like today. But the emotional wounds he carried inside ran much deeper. No matter how much he prayed for release, he doubted if he’d ever be done with them entirely.

  Davis let go of those dark memories with difficulty. What was the point of reliving what he couldn’t change? He’d gotten good at stuffing his feelings down inside. Only sometimes, on occasion, they refused to stay buried. When that happened, he dove into his Bible and prayed for God’s help.

  Releasing a ragged breath, he got to his feet and put the tags back in the suitcase then threw the clothes over them. He’d do a more thorough search in the morning. Right now, he needed to get Eddie’s wife out of here and to safety.

  Davis grabbed the tote bag and hiked back up to the SUV. He stopped at the edge of the road. He could see Reyna hunkered down inside. She had leaned back against the headrest, her eyes shut. He remembered the picture Eddie showed him. His buddy had told him they took it right after they were married. Davis remembered thinking how pretty she looked back then, and how innocent. Reyna Peterson had grown from a shy-looking bride into a strikingly beautiful and accomplished woman.

  Still, something had left an indelible mark on her. She appeared weary from life. No doubt partly due to Eddie’s death, but there had to be more to her story. Her skittish behavior only reinforced that feeling.

  Davis jerked the driver’s door open with a little more force than necessary. Reyna jumped as if he’d startled her and her hand flew to her chest. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He handed her the bag and she clutched it against her body like a life support. Further proof that the value of its contents were of grave importance to her.

  Davis put the Jeep into Drive. The wipers slapped back and forth at high speed, trying to fend off the ice and snow blanketing the windshield.

  “How much farther?” she asked, continuing to watch the passenger mirror.

  He glanced her way. “Not much. A couple more miles. Are you expecting company?”

  Her gaze flew to his and he saw the truth before she could deny it. His nerves hit the critical mark. Was someone following her?

  The Jeep crept along the road, occasionally slipping as the snow chains struggled to hold their grip. Each time he sensed she was trying not to scream.

  “Why do you need to find this Jase Bradford fellow? Where’s your husband?” So far, she didn’t have a clue Davis was the one she was looking for. He planned to keep it that way. He’d find out what she needed, do his best to help her for Eddie’s sake, then send her on her way before someone realized he was still alive.

  Reyna edged a little farther away, as if his questions made her uncomfortable. “That’s none of your business.”

  His mouth quirked up in a grin. “I think you kind of made it my business, don’t you?”

  She shot him an annoyed look, then stared straight ahead. “My husband is dead.” She confirmed the news of Eddie’s fate with those simple words.

  It was a long time before Davis could bring forth a steady answer over the lump in his throat. “I’m sorry. That must have been difficult. How long?”

  She swallowed visibly. “Six months. It’s been six months and I still can’t wrap my head around it. We were best friends forever. We went through most of our school years together.” Her voice caught and he could see tears in her eyes. “There are times when I still expect him to walk through the door.”

  Davis understood what she was going through all too well. He felt the same way about Abby. They’d worked side by side together for more than six years. He’d loved her just as long. When he’d learned of her death he’d fallen apart. It didn’t seem possible that such a vibrant, strong woman could be gone. At times, during those lonely winter nights when the walls closed in, he let himself think about the future they might have had. An impossible dream now.

  “You know, I was so grateful you stopped to help that I completely forgot to ask your name,” Reyna said.

  His breath stuck in his throat, his composure all but shot. For a second, he debated giving her another of his aliases, but thought better of it. “It’s Davis,” he said, without looking at her.

  “Davis what?” she prodded.

  His expression hardened. “Davis Sinclair,” he said at last. “Satisfied?”

  “Yes. Sorry, it’s just...been a very bad day.”

  Bad day? He thought it was much more than that. “You still haven’t answered my question. Why is it so important you find this Bradford guy?”

  She took her time answering. Something in her beautiful, fragile countenance tore at his heart. It made him want to protect her. In spite of that, he killed the remnant of emotion before it could take hold. He couldn’t go there. He’d do what he could to help her for Eddie’s sake.

  And then he’d move on.

  “Eddie told me if I was ever...if I ever needed help, I could trust Jase Bradford.”

  Had she been about to say if she was ever in danger? Was someone threatening Reyna because of her relationship to Eddie?

  His hands tightened on the wheel. “And what if you don’t locate this guy? What then?”

  The sheer desperation on her face confirmed failure wa
sn’t an option.

  “What did your husband tell you about this man? Do you even know what he looks like?” Davis added brusquely when she didn’t answer. He was on a fishing expedition of his own. He wanted to know what Eddie had told her about him. She obviously knew where to find him.

  He steeled himself when she shot him another piercing glance. Did she know what he looked like? No way. He’d changed his appearance dramatically. Let his hair grow. Years of working outdoors had lightened his dirty-blond hair somewhat. He’d even managed to grow a beard. He’d traded his fatigues for plaids and jeans. The only part of his previous uniform he still possessed was the Glock stashed in his pocket.

  “I know Jase Bradford was born here in Defiance and at one time his family lived up this same mountain. And I have a photo.”

  “A photo?” Davis’s heart lurched as he pulled the Jeep in front of the gate and stopped abruptly. There was no way she had a photo of him. In their line of work, anonymity was crucial. You couldn’t afford to have your picture floating around where it could quite possibly fall into enemy hands.

  “Why are we stopping?” she asked nervously.

  As desperate as he was to find out more about the photo, he didn’t want to tip his hand just yet. He needed to tread carefully.

  He pointed to the locked gate in front of them. “I need to open it. I’ll be right back.”

  Davis took his time. His usually tough composure had taken a beating when she mentioned a photo, and he struggled to regain his footing. His life might depend on it.

  TWO

  Reyna watched the man who had come to her rescue throw open the gate with enough force to send it rocking on its hinges. She glanced around at her surroundings. The isolation of the place sent up all sorts of warning signals. Had she behaved foolishly in trusting a complete stranger whose motives were unclear?

  She’d been so intent in finding Jase Bradford that she hadn’t fully thought her actions through. Now all the odd behavior Eddie had displayed before he left on that final tour of duty came back to taunt her. Could her original diagnosis have been correct all along? Maybe Eddie had been suffering from PTSD, as she’d first believed, and Jase Bradford was truly dead.

  But even if Eddie had been ill, that still didn’t explain why Agent Martin and his goons had shown up at her house and accused Eddie of treason. She’d known the moment they barged in that something was terribly wrong, and so she’d run.

  Reyna had done her best to cover her tracks. She hadn’t taken a direct route to Defiance, but had made several deliberate stops along the way, including the one to the storage facility in Eldorado. All designed to throw off a possible tail. She was almost positive no one had followed her. Almost.

  Still, as the miles had disappeared behind her, the terror and paranoia had grown. Lack of sleep had a way playing on a person’s uncertainties. She couldn’t give in to them. The first thing she’d done when she arrived in Defiance was to call her friend Sara with the disposable phone she’d purchased along the way. Sara had been worried sick when Reyna showed up at her back door and asked to borrow her car. She had begged Reyna to tell her what was happening, but Reyna knew it was best she didn’t know about the threat. She hadn’t told Sara about the letter containing the location of the storage facility, either. She had put her friend’s life in enough jeopardy simply by association.

  Now she wondered if she’d made a terrible mistake by not taking Sara up on her offer to help. She’d simply run off on her own and ended up in the middle of nowhere with a man she knew nothing about. He could be a serial killer. Or worse. Working for the same thugs who she believed had killed Eddie and threatened her.

  Reyna braced herself as Davis headed back to the Jeep...and then she saw it. She leaned forward in her seat in amazement. He had a limp! She hadn’t noticed it before, but then she’d just gone through a traumatic experience. Now that she thought about it, she vividly recalled the days following Eddie’s return stateside after the attack on the team. Eddie had been in shock. He’d told her that with the exception of Jase, Kyle and himself, the entire team had died. Eddie believed it was a deliberate attack on the unit that had nothing to do with the mission they were on.

  Her husband told her Jase’s injuries were extensive. A bullet had shattered his right leg. Another one had punctured his lung. He’d been flown to a military hospital near DC. She and Eddie had received news from Kyle of Jase’s passing a few days later. Yet, even after they attended the memorial service at Langley, Reyna could tell Eddie didn’t believe his friend was dead. In the weeks prior to Eddie’s own death, he’d insisted Jase had had no choice but to fake his death.

  If Jase had survived, as Eddie believed, then he definitely would have a limp. Reyna dug into her jacket pocket and pulled out the photo she’d hidden there. It showed all the Scorpion team members. The man she knew to be Jase Bradford was slightly younger in the photo and clean shaven. Still, the resemblance was uncanny. It certainly was plausible that Davis Sinclair could be Jase Bradford.

  She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting to feel. If Bradford was alive, then everything else Eddie told her must be the truth. The thought alone was chilling.

  Reyna quickly tucked the photo away before Davis got into the Jeep and turned to her. His gaze narrowed as he watched her try to recover from the incredible shock of learning the person seated next to her might quite possibly be a dead man.

  “Anything wrong?” he asked.

  She pulled in a shaky breath, her survival instincts cautioning her to watch what she said. “No, I’m fine.”

  He accepted her answer with a curt nod and put the vehicle in gear.

  Once he’d relocked the gate, he drove past snow-covered trees lining both sides of the drive. They rounded a ninety-degree curve and the house appeared before them. The hair on her arms stood to attention and she shivered. Nothing about the place was inviting.

  “This is it,” he said as he eased the car to a stop. “Hang on just a second, I’ll come around and help you. There’s ice everywhere.” He shoved his door open and got out. The noise stretched her raw nerves closer to the breaking point.

  Swallowing hard, Reyna watched as the man who claimed to be Davis Sinclair circled the front of the Jeep. The limp was much more noticeable this time, maybe because she was paying closer attention.

  He yanked open her door and she shrank away from him. He lifted a brow at her reaction.

  “Ready?” he said as he leaned in to give her a hand. Reyna’s breath stuck in her throat, her heart drumming a mile a minute. She blamed it on the fact she’d been living in fear and the near-death experience—anything but the handsome, mysterious man by her side.

  Their eyes met and her chest tightened. He was so close. She could see every line etched around his eyes, the deep grooves framing his full lips that spoke of someone who had chosen to live a life of solitude for a reason.

  She had to get a grip. If this was indeed Jase Bradford, then she needed his help. But first she had to find out what he was hiding other than his true identity.

  “Yes, I’m ready.” Her voice sounded as if she’d run a marathon, and her hands shook. She sucked in her bottom lip, a nervous habit she couldn’t break.

  His attention shifted to her lips, his own breathing labored. She took his proffered hand and got out. After what felt like a lifetime of seconds ticking by in perfect cadence with her heart, he moved away and she was able to relax.

  “Let’s get you inside. Watch your step. The porch is slippery.” Reyna slowly followed him. She kept the bag containing the storage locker key close. The contents of that locker might just be the one thing that would keep her alive if those thugs found her. Agent Martin’s threats had solidified things in her mind. Eddie’s death was no accident.

  As they neared the house, motion-sensor lights flashed on, illuminating the front of the place. The man calling himself Davis Sin
clair lived as if he was expecting danger to show up at his door any moment.

  The house was three stories and enormous in stature. Made entirely of full round logs, it looked as if it could withstand quite a few Colorado winters. She noticed surveillance cameras positioned to capture every possible angle of the house. Massive amounts of firewood were stockpiled along both sides of the porch. The place looked like a compound and about as impenetrable as the White House.

  A trickle of unease ran through her and she uttered a silent prayer asking for God’s reassurance that she was doing the right thing. With everything she had gone through, she couldn’t let down her guard for a second. She was at the mercy of a man with secrets and could be walking into a trap.

  Her boots slipped on the porch and he reached out to steady her. His large, muscular arms circled her waist and drew her close. She could feel the warmth radiating from his body. Just for a second she stilled. She was so tired and he was so strong. If she inched in just a little bit, she could lean in to his strength.

  Reyna pulled away and gave herself a mental shake. His arms dropped to his side. No matter how desperate she felt or how much she might want to trust him, her life was at stake. He unlocked the house and stepped inside, yet Reyna hesitated. She stood in the entrance, surrounded by darkness, the only light coming from a dying fire in the fireplace. She wouldn’t go inside until she knew what she was facing in there.

  He seemed to read all her uncertainties, because he flipped on the overhead light, illuminating the room. No one waited inside to take her into custody. There was nothing scary or out of the ordinary. Just the evidence of a house occupied by one person.

  Reyna slowly stepped in and closed the door. He stopped by the fireplace but stood quietly watching her, as if trying to gauge her threat level. Neither one trusted the other just yet.

  She glanced around. Reyna had to admit, the room itself was impressive. The ceiling vaulted up to what looked like at least fourteen feet above them. A massive stacked-stone fireplace was the showpiece of the room. Windows facing out toward the drive would enable him to see for miles. No one was coming up to the house unannounced. None of which eased her fears one little bit. Who was he expecting to come after him?