“Your mom and sister are Northstar agents?” Chip’s eyes widened as she looked up from the laptop.
“Mom was. She died a few years ago.” Riley swallowed the ache that always accompanied thoughts of his mother and her unsolved murder. “My sister, Kellee will start soon. She was caught in the aftermath of Hurricane Igor and another of our agents, Egan Maddox, was sent to find her. They ended up taking on a bunch of Russian goons together and she proved to my dad, once and for all, she was ready to be an agent. She and Egan are getting married soon. Dad’s allowing them to work as a team when they’re back from the honeymoon.”
“Quite the family business.” She gave a small smile. “Nepotism isn’t a problem?”
Riley attempted to ignore the smile and what it did to his heart rate. “It hasn’t been so far. I suspect Kellee and Egan will work out just fine.”
“It sounds like you have doubts about the situation in general.”
“The jury’s still out, but I’ll admit this partnership between us is working out okay.” His mantra about partners being off-limits had all but faded to the back of his mind.
Chip shifted in her seat, looking a little uncomfortable. “So…a family of agents?”
“That’s what we are. It beats having a real job where I’m stuck behind a desk.”
“You could’ve become a cop.” She turned her attention back to the screen and typed in the password.
“Not with all the rules and regulations.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Ah, so instead, you’re the hero who can disappear into the night—accountable only to yourself.”
Riley averted his gaze. No one had ever guessed that was how he felt about his work. He’d never told a soul, not even his father. He liked the thought of being the silent, secret defender who slipped away after everything was right again. He liked bringing wrongdoers to justice.
“Hey.” Chip was staring at him after he’d gone silent. She waved a hand in front of his face. “Earth to Riley, are you still on the planet? Did I hit a nerve?”
“What?”
“Are you okay?” She looked concerned.
He realized he’d have to watch what he said around his partner or she’d figure out all his secrets. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t seem fine.”
“I’m fine.” His warning tone ending the conversation.
Chip lowered her gaze, but not before he glimpsed disappointment in her eyes. He wondered if she cared more than she let show—that maybe she wasn’t as immune to him as she pretended to be.
She turned her attention back to the computer. “You should call the lab and see how much longer it’s going to be before they have something for us.” Her voice sounded carefully neutral.
“Good idea.” Riley’s tone was more enthusiastic than the circumstances warranted.
Chapter Eight
Riley’s cell phone vibrated on the table just as he was about to make the call to Northstar. He grabbed it as though it was a lifeline, which in a sense, it was. The more he looked into Chip’s turbulent, gray eyes, the more he felt as though he was about to be washed away in a downpour. He’d take any lifeline he could get. He glanced at the caller ID. Finally. “Allison. What have you got for us?”
“That was a solid lead on Pomeroy.” From her tone, she sounded excited to be on the hunt. “He’s been quite public with his opposition to the program. Apparently, he was overheard last week calling Senator Burnsworth a traitor for selling U.S. technology.”
Riley sat up straighter. Chip obviously noticed the change in his attitude and leaned forward, elbows on the table. “That’s great information and provides motive, too. Did you find anything to tie Pomeroy to the blackmail and kidnapping?”
“We think so,” Allison said. “After some digging, we learned he owns property outside Los Alamos.”
“No kidding. That’s an interesting coincidence.” He gave Chip a thumbs-up, and damn, if her whole face didn’t light up with that smile. He nearly missed what Allison said next.
“What’s that?” He refocused on Allison’s voice. “What problem?”
“Pomeroy’s been in D.C. for the last two weeks. We’ve confirmed he hasn’t been on the property in New Mexico for at least that long.”
“If he is behind the kidnapping, I can’t see him getting his hands dirty.” Riley was positive someone else would do the actual deeds. “There are possibly others involved—maybe even Weston. Have you found anything on him?”
“We’re still looking into Weston,” Allison replied. “Once we learned Pomeroy owned property so close to the resort, we put most of our focus on him.”
“If his place is that close, we can check it out.”
“Getting in without being detected could be a problem.” Allison warned him. “The land is spread over at least fifty acres. Satellite images show several buildings. A couple of the structures look to be residential.”
“How many buildings, exactly?”
“Six,” Allison answered.
“That doesn’t sound insurmountable.”
“That’s not all.”
“No one said this would be easy.” Riley braced for more bad news.
“There’s plenty of ground cover until you’re within a hundred meters of the buildings. After that, the buildings are completely in the open. It makes sense for wildfire management, but anyone approaching could be spotted long before they reach the houses. You’d be targets.”
“What about at night?” He figured there had to be a way to get on the grounds without raising suspicion.
“You’re in luck there. The forecast calls for rain,” Allison said. “But if you wait until nightfall, you’ll have lost nearly eight hours. And if we’re wrong on this, that’s time we can’t afford to lose.”
Her warning had merit. They were racing the clock to rescue the women before the vote. “You’re full of good news this morning.”
Allison had opened the line on speaker and he could hear her shifting on her chair. She hadn’t been with Northstar long, but she prided herself on assessing every angle and giving the field agents the best possible advantage. “I’ll keep looking for alternatives,” she said. “But based on the e-mail time stamp, the kidnapper couldn’t have gone far before he sent the video. Pomeroy’s property does appear to be a likely location to hold the women.”
“Even if Pomeroy is our man, we should also consider that the women may have been moved again.”
“Riley.” Byron’s voice broke into the conversation. “I asked Sloan to work up an assessment based on what we have so far. Because of the remote location, and the instructions about alerting the authorities, he thinks the kidnapper believes the women are safe for now.”
“Safe being the operative word. But I get your meaning.” Sloan Cartland was Northstar’s profiler and Riley trusted his assessment. However, Sloan wasn’t on-site. The decision to go into the property or not rested with Riley. He looked over at Chip, who seemed to be straining to hear every word. He hit the speaker button on his cell—better late than never. “Have you got anything else for us?”
“I’m sending over the coordinates for the property,” Allison said. “Also, check your e-mail for satellite images we found on file.”
“Is it possible to get anything real time?” Chip interjected.
“Already on it,” Byron said. “As soon as the general heard about the abduction, he requested sat-time for the region. Due to the resort’s proximity to the Los Alamos laboratories, satellites were already overhead. It wasn’t much of a stretch to expand the viewing areas. We won’t have data from the time of the kidnapping, but we may be able to determine if there’s been any activity on Pomeroy’s property in the last few hours.”
“How long will it take to get those images?” Riley looked at his watch, wishing that the logistics didn’t have to take so long.
“Give us another three hours,” Byron said. “The Pentagon is a bit fussy about who sees them.”
“But t
he general—” Chip started.
“—still needs clearance for this,” Byron finished. “Requesting them is one thing, not telling anyone why we want them is another. The need for secrecy is still paramount. Don’t worry. We’ll get the data. I have a few markers I can call in.”
Chip glanced at Riley with a raised brow. “CIA?” She mouthed so no one on the other end could hear.
Riley nodded. He turned back to the phone. “Thanks, Dad. We’ll go over the data when it arrives and get back to you with an assessment.” He thumbed the disconnect button and looked at Chip.
Her frown accentuated the freckles across her nose and gave her a cute, don’t-mess-with-me look. No, Riley amended. Not cute. She was his partner. Partners are off-limits.
“I don’t like waiting three hours before we can do anything. What are we supposed to do in the meantime?” Chip tugged on the cuff of her shirt in what Riley was starting to learn was a nervous gesture.
He hadn’t intended to glance at the bed, but his gaze strayed there anyway.
“O’Neal!” Her sharp retort brought him back to his senses.
He jerked his head to look at her. “Maybe we could recon the area. Determine a plan. See if there’s any indication that Fiona and Lorraine are actually there.”
“Boots on the ground.” Chip nodded. “I like it.”
“Or as Byron likes to say, humint. Human intelligence. Electronic surveillance is good, but getting a feel for the terrain in person—seeing what we’re up against—is better.”
“I’m all for that. How far is this place from the resort?”
At that moment, Riley’s e-mail pinged announcing the arrival of the satellite images. “Let’s find out.”
****
Fifteen minutes later, Chip was with Riley in the stables, waiting as a stable hand saddled a pair of horses and gave them tips about the resort’s riding trails. They planned to ride out to the edge of the resort’s property, which, as it turned out, was adjacent to Pomeroy’s land on the north. If Pomeroy was involved in the blackmail and kidnapping, not only was the location highly convenient, but it seemed ideal for hiding the women.
Chip had changed into a khaki shirt and put on a baseball hat for the horseback ride. Riley, in his jeans, denim shirt, and backpack looked like he’d stepped off the pages of an outdoorsman magazine. Even if he’d been a homely geek with horned-rimmed glasses, she wouldn’t have been immune to his presence. Not only was she impressed with his intelligence and willingness to overlook her bad manners, he was as committed as she was to rescuing Fiona and Lorraine.
As much as she hated to admit it, she was beginning to feel something for this man. The unexpected emotion reached dangerously close to places she’d shielded for a long, long time. She zipped up her jacket against the morning chill as if to shelter those tender places from getting entangled in a relationship she wasn’t sure she was ready for.
After studying the coordinates, they anticipated the ride to the property line and back to take a couple of hours. Adding in a quick reconnoiter, they’d still return in plenty of time before Northstar would have the additional up-to-date satellite images.
The trail was well marked and out of sight from the highway that snaked through the valley. Using their newlywed cover, they convinced the stable hands they didn’t need an escort.
The morning boasted a clear sky and fresh Indian summer breeze. Color was everywhere. Gold-dollar-sized aspen leaves stirred in the light breeze, contrasting dramatically with the dark ruby of the scrub oak. Brilliant yellows, reds, and oranges sparkled in the morning sun, still fresh with dew from the night before. As they rode, Chip forgot all about how tired she felt after her brief, restless sleep in the chair.
Scrub jays and chickadees fluttered alongside chipmunks and squirrels rummaging for their morning meal or for treasures to hoard for the winter months to come. High above, an eagle’s scream split the crisp air, sending chills across her arms. The forest was alive. A more perfect start to the day would have been hard to find. Her troubling attraction to Riley eased a little in the sunlight’s dance through the leaves.
In fact, Riley’s silent companionship was as soothing as the scenery. She wondered how this man had the capacity to disarm, yet make her feel relaxed and safe at the same time. The tranquil expression on his face told her he was enjoying the morning as much as she was. Even though she knew the peaceful feeling was an illusion, a little of her tension rolled away.
****
“Nothing like this in D.C.” Riley spoke for the first time since they’d left the stables. The knot in his chest unraveled a bit as he gazed at the delight gracing Chip’s face. A tiny part of him wanted that look to be meant for him.
“This is beautiful.” She gestured around them. “Do you suppose it’s like this every autumn?”
“I understand the seasonal changes are relatively distinct in this area. Farther south it stays warm most of the year.”
“Oh, look!” She reined her horse to a stop. Riley tugged gently to bring his mount alongside. He turned in his saddle to see where she was pointing.
In a small clearing, a trio of mule deer grazed lazily on the native grasses. After a moment, the deer noticed the audience and continued into the wooded forest away from prying eyes.
The trail was clearly defined, leading from a forestland of evergreens into open fields of brush and high grasses bordered by glades of aspen vividly displaying colors brought out by the season’s change. The click of the horses’ shoes against rocks alternated in rhythm with intermittent squeaks from the saddles. Joined by the chatter of the small creatures, the sounds created a morning symphony to accompany their ride.
Occasionally, Chip pointed out a particular type of vegetation or a unique rock formation, but mostly neither of them seemed inclined to disturb the gentle peace they’d found within nature’s majesty. It was a pleasant prelude to the dangerous task that waited at their destination.
The trail ended on a small plateau covered in juniper and sagebrush just above Pomeroy’s property line. They reined the horses to stop and dismounted. Riley led the animals to a shaded area that had a bit of grass and looped their reins around the branches of a juniper. He gave them a snack of apples and carrots provided by the stable hands, which the horses crunched noisily. When there was no more, they nibbled at the grass.
He tossed Chip a protein bar and a juice box. “Eat a little. This should hold us until we get back to the resort for lunch.”
When they finished eating, the sun was a little higher in the sky, dispelling some of the early-morning shadows. They’d have to stay well within the cover of the brush to avoid detection by anyone who might be watching.
****
For several minutes, Chip followed Riley around sagebrush and juniper as they scouted the property’s fence line looking for an opening that would allow them on the other side. So far, they’d not found a spot where they could enter without having to climb through barbed wire. Climbing through the fence wasn’t as big a concern as leaving evidence they’d been on the land.
She took off her hat, wiped a trickle of sweat from her temple, and lifted her head as the wind shifted to catch the breeze and cool her face. She paused, smelling something odd, and turned into the wind to get a better whiff. “Smell that?”
He sniffed. “I don’t—wait. What is it?”
“An old burn.” She put her hat back on and headed in the opposite direction. “This way.”
Riley stayed behind her as they retraced the path along the fence. They went another hundred yards before they came upon signs of a wildfire that had scoured the hillside. Chip pulled out a slip of paper with the coordinates for the buildings. She took out her phone and compared the coordinates to an app on the device, then looked north toward the road. “See the buildings?” She pointed to a clearing off the highway.
At the front of the clearing was a good-sized ranch style house. The house’s proximity to the highway made for easy access. Chip doubted
the women were in there. At the back of the clearing, near a stream, was another large white structure surrounded by a privacy fence. If Fiona and Lorraine were down there, then she’d put odds on that house. “If there hadn’t been a fire, we’d have had to get a lot closer to see those buildings.”
Riley nodded, and scanned the area. “This must be Pomeroy’s place. Three houses and three more outbuildings. The first two are fairly close to the highway.”
“If this is where the women were taken, then my money’s on the one with the privacy fence.” Chip pointed at the building.
“Mine too.”
“The problem is how to see what’s going on inside.” She was itching to get closer, but knew they had to proceed with caution.
Riley checked his watch. “We have another thirty minutes before we’ll need to return to the resort and check on the data Northstar is sending. Let’s find a spot and watch what’s happening down there. Maybe we can catch some movement.” He took off along the fence line, looking for a good observation perch.
A whining sound waffled on the breeze above Chip’s head. She spun toward the sound, scanning the sky to see what was making the noise, and as she did, her foot rolled off a rock partially buried in the dirt. A sharp pain shot along her ankle. Biting off an expletive, she called to Riley before he got too far ahead. “Wait up.”
He looked over his shoulder, saw her rubbing her ankle, and returned to her side. “What’d you do?”
“Twisted it.” She hated admitting to the injury. “I don’t think it’s too bad, but I want to be sure.”
Riley knelt and slid the backpack off his shoulder. “I have a first-aid kit. Let me take a look.”
She straightened her leg and attempted to put some weight on it. “Ouch!”
“Sit, before you fall.” He grabbed her arm and eased her to the ground. “How’d you do this?” He untied her sneaker.
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