Mountain Heiress: Mountain Midwife

by Cassie Miles

  His supposedly disarming smile extended to her. “I apologize, Ms. Devon. It’s unfortunate that you were caught up in this situation. I assure you that this isn’t the way the FBI does business.”

  Her lips pressed tightly together. With wide, unblinking eyes, she stared at Frank’s body. “Is he dead?”

  “He’s not going to hurt anybody.”

  Cole knew that her EMT training and instincts wouldn’t allow her to ignore a victim. He wasn’t surprised when she straightened her shoulders, walked around the counter and knelt beside Frank.

  Watching her check for a pulse gave Cole a renewed respect for her. She valued human life—even the miserable existence of someone like Frank Loeb, a man who had tried to kill her. Rachel was a good woman. The best.

  She looked up and shook her head. “No need to call for an ambulance.”

  When Prescott moved closer to her, Cole vaulted over the counter and inserted himself between them. Even though Prescott had holstered his gun, he couldn’t be trusted. He looked like one of the good guys with his barbered black hair and clean-shaven jaw. His manner was calm. His expression showed no emotion, typical of a trained agent. Pulling information from him wasn’t going to be easy.

  Cole helped Rachel to her feet and guided her to one of the padded turquoise stools in front of the counter. When she was seated, he turned toward Prescott, waiting for him to speak first.

  Unfortunately, Prescott employed the same negotiating tactic. He stood beside Frank’s body as though he was a hunter with a fresh kill waiting to have his photograph taken. The corner of his mouth twitched. Cole could tell that there was something Prescott wanted to know, a burning question that would break his silent facade.

  “The baby,” Prescott said. “Is the baby all right?”

  Cole hadn’t expected him to ask about Goldie. If he was right about Prescott working with Baron, the first question should have been about the money.

  Rachel answered, “Goldie is doing very well. She’s with Penny’s mother.”

  “Where?” Prescott demanded.

  Before Rachel could answer, Cole said, “In a safe place.”

  “I need to see the baby before I can call off the search.”

  “That doesn’t make a hell of a lot of sense,” Cole said. “You know we’re not armed and dangerous fugitives. You shook my hand. Apologized to Rachel. You put your gun away.”

  “I’m not the one who made the call for a manhunt,” Prescott said. “Somebody higher up said you’d lost it. You know how often that happens with undercover ops.”

  “Not with me.”

  “There were three dead bodies. One of them, a woman who had just given birth.”

  “Who called for the manhunt?”

  “The director gave the order. I don’t know who talked to him.”

  A lie? Prescott had jammed his hands into the pockets of his parka so he wouldn’t betray any nervousness with his gestures. His forehead pulled into a frown that might indicate concern or confusion. Or else he was hiding something. His dark eyes were steady, but his lips thinned. Was he lying?

  “You called me in on this investigation,” Cole said. “You suspected someone in your office of working with Baron.”

  “I still do.”

  Cole continued as though he hadn’t spoken. “Then you show up here with Frank.”

  “Hold it right there. Frank Loeb and I weren’t working together. I was following him.” He paused. “I didn’t know Frank was so skilled at electronics. It didn’t take him ten minutes to bypass that burglar alarm.”

  There was something cruel about discussing Frank’s skills while the man lay dead at their feet. Though Rachel was no stranger to violent death, he wanted to get her away from this horror.

  Less than an hour ago, they’d been lying in each other’s arms. The world had been sweet. He had been happy. No more.

  His life didn’t have room for a normal relationship. He lived on the razor’s edge.

  “Call Waxman,” Cole said. His handler needed to be apprised of the situation.

  Prescott’s scowl deepened. “Waxman might be the one who betrayed you. When he assigned you, he warned me that you were a loose cannon. He said that when you go undercover, you cut all ties.”

  That policy had served Cole well. If Prescott had been able to track him with GPS, he and Rachel would have been caught. “You’re saying that Agent Waxman is the traitor.”

  “I’m not accusing anybody.”

  But he was pushing suspicion away from himself, which seemed like a blatant ruse. Cole needed to be careful in dealing with this guy. If Prescott had been working with Baron, he had a lot to lose. Not only would his payoff money stop coming, but he’d also lose his job, his reputation and his freedom. The feds dealt harshly with those who conspired against them.

  “Think about it, Cole.” Prescott’s hands came out of his pockets. He held them open, showing that he had nothing to hide. “I’m not the bad guy. If I wanted you dead, I could have killed you when I walked through this door.”

  A threat? “Don’t underestimate me.”

  It had been a while since he’d killed a man with his bare hands. The years had taught him patience. He was smarter now than when he first started.

  “Here’s the deal.” Prescott’s hands went back into his pockets. “If I call off the manhunt, I have to take you and Rachel into custody.”

  He looked toward her. She hadn’t made a peep. Until now, she hadn’t been shy about making her needs and desires known. What was going on behind those liquid blue eyes?

  He glanced at Prescott. “Excuse us for a moment.”

  Taking her arm, he led her toward the door into the rear of the shop. He stood just inside, where he could keep an eye on Prescott while they held a whispered conversation. “Why so quiet?”

  “I was watching you,” she said. “When you’re negotiating, you become a different person.”

  “How so?”

  She lifted her hand as though she wanted to touch him. But she held back. “You know how much I like a bad boy. That element of danger is... Well, it’s a turn-on. But you’re not the same man who made love to me all day.”

  “I’m not?”

  “You’re more like the guy in the ski mask who kidnapped me in my van and stuck a gun in my face.”

  Though he wanted to give his full attention to Rachel, his gaze focused on Prescott, who stood at the window, staring out at the snow. “That was my undercover identity. You know, like an actor playing a role.”

  “Actors don’t carry real guns.”

  “True,” he conceded.

  He wasn’t an actor following a safe little script that led to the inevitable happy ending. When he went undercover, he took on another identity. From the way he combed his hair to the way he handled his weapons, he was different. He couldn’t risk showing a single glimpse of himself, and he never knew how it would all end.

  “You’re scaring me, Cole. You’re so closed off, so tough, so cold. Your eyes don’t even reflect the light. You’re dangerous. And it’s a real danger, the kind that got Penny killed.”

  He could feel her pulling away as though she was walking backward into a mist, fading into a memory. “I don’t want to lose you.”

  “I’m not blaming you. It’s your job. It’s what you do.”

  He’d work this out with her later. “We have to make a decision. Do we turn ourselves in?”

  “Is it safe?”

  “I’d feel better if I knew Baron’s identity. I’d have a bargaining chip.”

  Thus far, his undercover assignment was shaping up to be an unmitigated failure. Four people, including Penny and Frank, were dead. And he was only a few inches closer to finding the mastermind who caused those deaths and engineered a chain of robberies throughout the west.

  “You hate to quit,” she said.

  “Right, again.”

  “And you promised Pearl that you’d find the man responsible for Penny’s murder.”

&
nbsp; He nodded. “The only way we’ll really be safe is when Baron is found, and the traitor in the FBI is identified.”

  A grin lifted the corners of her mouth. He knew she wasn’t trying to be sexy, but that energy emanated from her. “I say the hell with Prescott.”

  “I’ve never wanted to kiss somebody so much in my life.”

  “Kiss me later. Right now, we need to get away from here.”

  As they returned to the front of Lily Belle’s ice cream parlor, a plan was already taking shape in his mind. He confronted Prescott. “Where were we?”

  The pinched eyebrows and the scowl had become a permanent fixture on Prescott’s face. “I want an update on your investigation.”

  “You’ll have to wait.”

  Prescott glared and looked him straight in the eye in an attempt to assert his authority as the higher ranking agent. “You need to start cooperating with me. Tell me what you’ve learned about Baron.”

  Cole had two options: keep quiet or dribble out just enough information to get a response. This was a chess game played with hubris and cunning. Spending years undercover gave Cole the clear advantage; he knew how to manipulate people to get information.

  He made the first move, starting with the truth. “Baron is the baby’s daddy.”

  Without admitting or denying, Prescott asked, “Will DNA confirm that relationship?” It was a sideways move.

  “Penny named him. She grew up in this area.”

  Prescott’s nod was a signal of confidence. “I have background on her. She went to high school in Granby.”

  “Is that how you tracked her mother?”

  “Finding Pearl Richards didn’t take any complicated sleuthing.” Prescott moved toward bragging. Clearly, he thought he was winning this game. “She had her mail forwarded to the house in Grand Lake.”

  Cole shot him down. “But you didn’t know that the owner of the house also owned the ice cream parlor.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “But you’re familiar with the Grand County area,” Cole said, remembering what Deputy Loughlin had told them.

  “I’ve been up here a couple of times. I used to be the information liaison for the FBI in Colorado.”

  A piece of new information. How did it fit? “You did public relations?”

  “Checking in with the locals. Giving Q-and-A talks. Creating an FBI presence. In some of these remote areas, weirdo militia groups can take root. It’s good if the local people have someone they’ve met and can talk with.”

  “So you know people around here.” That could be a useful attribute if he was working with Baron. Cole pushed with a more aggressive move. “Is there a more personal reason you’ve spent time around here?”

  “No.”

  Prescott had hesitated slightly before answering; Cole knew that he’d hit a nerve. The game shifted to his advantage. “Ever owned property in Grand County?”

  “This isn’t about me.” An edge of anger crept into his voice.

  “I think maybe it is.”

  “Damn it, McClure. I offered you a deal to go into custody. I’ll take care of you. Trust me.”

  “I never trust anybody who uses those words.”

  “My actions speak louder.” A red flush colored Prescott’s throat. He was getting angry, losing control. “I’m here to help. I didn’t kill you when I had the chance.”

  “You never had that chance.” He gestured for Rachel to stay back, out of harm’s way.

  “Get real, McClure. Frank was charging after you like a wounded grizzly. I had a gun, and you were unarmed.”

  It was time to take Agent Wayne Prescott down. This was the endgame.

  Since they’d both had the same FBI training in H2H, hand-to-hand combat, Cole decided to avoid a real fight. His plan wasn’t to hurt Prescott. Just to show him who was boss.

  A pat on the shoulder and a light slap on the ear distracted Prescott enough for Cole to slip his gun from the holster and drop it on the floor. Likely, Prescott was carrying other weapons. Probably had a knife in those pockets where he kept hiding his hands. And an ankle holster.

  He blocked a punch with his forearm and waded in closer. Cole ducked. When he popped up, he spun the agent around and pulled off his jacket. He had him in a choke hold.

  The whole altercation took less than a minute.

  “Here’s the deal,” Cole said. “I want your vehicle.”

  “Why?”

  Cole released him. “You have to stay here and deal with poor old Frank. And I have someplace to go.”

  “I’m urging you to turn yourself in. I can’t call off the manhunt. Every cop in the state is looking for you, and they are authorized to use force.”

  “I’m not walking away from this assignment until it’s done,” Cole said. “Now it’s time for you to trust me.”

  When Prescott leaned down to pick his parka off the floor, he reached for his ankle holster.

  Anticipating the move, Cole already had the gun he’d slipped from Prescott’s holster pointed in his face. Checkmate.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Fat snowflakes splatted against the windshield of Prescott’s four-wheel-drive SUV. A nice vehicle for driving in the snow; Cole understood why Prescott was willing to fight instead of handing over the keys.

  As soon as they got into the car, he’d searched the glove box and found nothing but a neat packet containing registration and proof of insurance. Prescott was a careful man. A career agent. He hadn’t given up any information, except the part about him being a liaison and knowing people in the area. Somehow that had to be useful.

  Though this storm was nowhere near as violent as the blizzard, Cole hated driving through it. He gripped the steering wheel with both hands, willing the tires not to slip on the snow-packed road leading away from Grand Lake. On the plus side, the bad weather was keeping cars off the road. If anybody followed them, the taillights would be easy to spot.

  Rachel held his cell phone but hadn’t yet dialed. “I don’t want to drag Jim Loughlin into this mess. Cole, it’s getting worse and worse. You assaulted a federal officer.”

  “I am a federal officer,” he said. “A damn better one than Prescott. And we need your friend to help us.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m pretty sure this nice SUV has GPS. Prescott can track our location.”

  His plan was to drop off Prescott’s car at the house where they were attacked. Like it or not, the feds and the cops would be forced to look at that house and to realize the murders had been committed there. Even a rudimentary crime-scene analysis would show evidence of a major assault. Their investigation would take a different direction—leading away from them.

  Unfortunately, when the cops checked the property records, they’d see the connection between Xavier Romero and Baron. If Cole wanted to get information from Romero, he needed to contact him before Prescott and his men closed in.

  Rachel asked, “What do you want Loughlin to do?”

  “Ask him to meet us at the house. He’s already been there so he knows the location. I want him to give us a lift.”

  “Where to?”

  “How much he wants to be involved is up to him. Make the call, Rachel. The alternative is another hike through the snow.” He dared to take his eyes off the road for an instant to glance at her. “You don’t want that, do you?”

  As she made the call, he followed the route that he vaguely remembered from the first time the gang went to the house where three of them had died. Navigating in the mountains on these twisting roads that were half-hidden by snow took 90 percent of his concentration. With the other 10 percent, he figured out what they should do next.

  Initially, he’d thought they would find Penny’s friend, Jenna Cambridge, in Granby and pick up the bundles of cash to use as evidence. Now, it was more imperative to hightail it over to Black Hawk to see Xavier Romero. In the past, the old snitch had helped Cole out with information. Romero might be able to cut through the crap and give him Baron’s
name.

  It was becoming obvious that the only way Cole would end this assignment successfully was to apprehend Baron by himself and turn him over to the cops.

  “Okay,” Rachel said, “Loughlin will meet us at the house.”

  “Good.” He made a left turn. Was this the route? He wished like hell that he was driving on a clean, paved, well-marked California freeway.

  “What’s going to happen next?”

  “I’m going to have a talk with Xavier Romero.”

  “In Black Hawk? You can’t ask Loughlin to drive all the way to Black Hawk.”

  “I’m hoping he’ll loan us his car.”

  “That’s a lot to ask,” she said. “He could be charged with aiding and abetting fugitives.”

  “If we were criminals, he’d be in trouble. But we’re not. Remember? We’re the good guys.”

  “I’m an upstanding citizen, but I’m not so sure about you.”

  That wasn’t the way she’d felt when they were lying in each other’s arms. She’d snuggled intimately beside him. They were one. Not anymore.

  In the real world—the one where she lived in snow-ridden Colorado and he resided in sunny California—he and Rachel were very different people. He lived by deception, and she couldn’t tell a lie to save her life. He was no stranger to violence; she was a healer. Different.

  And yet, there was a level where they matched perfectly. He didn’t quite understand the connection. In a way, she filled in the places where he was lacking. And vice versa.

  She gave him a solid grounding. He gave her...excitement. She’d never admit it, but he’d seen the fire in her eyes. Every time they’d been at risk, she had risen to the challenge. He wanted her with him, didn’t trust her safety to anyone else, not even Loughlin. But he couldn’t ask her to continue on this dangerous path. He needed to do what was right for her.

  When he recognized a road sign, he almost cheered. They were headed in the right direction. “This might be a good time for you to take shelter. When I go to Black Hawk, you could stay with the Loughlins.”

  “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

  “I’m trying to keep you safe. Think about it.”