Читать книгу Holiday Mountain Conspiracy - Liz Shoaf - Страница 15

Mary Grace slowly awoke from that wonderful, murky place somewhere between sleep and wakefulness and winced as she stretched. Her limbs were stiff and her right side burned like fire. She vaguely remembered being on the mountain... The mountain! She’d taken a bullet and had fallen into a ravine.

She shot upright in bed, sucked in a startled breath at the pain in her side and popped her eyes open. She screamed when a large creature that looked way too much like a wolf opened his mouth and big sharp, gleaming white teeth came toward her. She threw up her arms to protect her face, but instead of razor-sharp blades piercing her arm, she felt a rough tongue gliding against her skin.

The ache in her side left her gasping for air and it was in that helpless, vulnerable state that she noticed a bear of a man sitting in a chair facing her, a roaring fire burning in the stone fireplace behind him.

Was this the elusive Mountain Man she’d been trying to locate, or was he the person who shot her on the mountain? Or were they one and the same? Bobby trusted Mountain Man, but she’d rely on her own gut when she figured out who he was. Not that she was in any condition to defend herself or get away if it came down to it.

Her heart racing, she quickly scanned her surroundings and wasn’t at all happy with what she discovered. There were two doors in the small cabin. One appeared to be the front door and the other smaller door probably led to a bathroom.

She took a deep breath and locked a steady gaze on the man. She did her best to achieve what Gram Ramsey always advised in that strong, independent, proud Georgian tone of hers, Always use proper manners, but don’t ever let ’em see you sweat. Look like you’re strong and know what you’re about, even if you’re quivering inside like Jell-O.

She prayed she’d make her grandmother proud and lifted her chin. “Where’s my dog?”

The man just sat there and kept staring at her like a knot on a log. The keen observation she was known for in her chosen profession as a journalist went active. The man appeared to be a throwback from mountaineer times. He was huge, really huge, with dark bushy hair that brushed the collar of his plaid shirt. An unkempt beard covered most of his face. Unblinking, razor-sharp green eyes stared back at her. He wore holey ancient jeans. She noticed a heavy fleece jacket hanging on a coat rack placed next to the front door.

He was large, like in a mountain-man-horror-film type of big, which directly opposed the odd tendril of attraction she felt when those green eyes flickered with a small degree of warmth. Her body ached, her side felt like an inferno and testiness quickly replaced any lingering terror.

She ignored her unreliable feelings where men were concerned and blurted out, “I said, where’s my dog?” There! That came out sounding firm and in control. At least she hoped it did.

A sound came from a lower wall beside the kitchen counter and a portion of the wall lifted inward, allowing Tinker Bell inside the cabin. Mary Grace’s fingers tightened on the plaid blanket thrown over her and she was really wishing she’d brought the gun safely tucked away in her Arlington town house with her.

Her eyes widened when Tink approached the bed and the big wolf dog moved to the side so her baby could hop up beside her. She held Tinker Bell to her chest, closed her eyes and said a quick prayer, asking the good Lord to keep her safe, then took a deep fortifying breath and lifted her lids. She subdued the nervous laughter bubbling up inside her as she wondered if the man had even blinked while her eyes were closed. He hadn’t moved a muscle since she’d woken up.

“Who sent you?” His words sounded gruff and rusty, as if he didn’t talk much.

“Are you Mountain Man?” She inwardly rolled her eyes. Thus far, they had exchanged a few two-and three-word sentences. Her colleagues would find her situation amusing because she was widely known as a shark disguised as a soft-spoken Southern woman. She had a talent for squeezing every tiny bit of information out of the politicians on Capitol Hill without their even realizing it. She attributed her success to her Southern upbringing, and she didn’t think those particular attributes would work on this big, solid mountain man, but she’d give it her best shot.

She dug deep and dredged up a sweet, soft smile. He couldn’t have been the person trying to kill her on the mountain. He’d had plenty of opportunity to do away with her and hide her body while she was unconscious. Her fake smile wavered as she felt the bindings on her side pull and she wondered if this crazy mountain man had patched her up, but she kept her smile in place.

“Why don’t we start over. My name is Mary Grace Ramsey, and no one sent me. Well, that’s actually not true. My brother did send me, but that’s a long story and I need to find a man everyone refers to as Mountain Man. The sheriff in Jackson Hole said people around here call him Ned. He’s supposed to help me. But then I got lost on the mountain and someone started shooting—”

“Stop!”

His bellowed word sounded pained and he rubbed his forehead.

“Do you have a headache? Maybe you should take some aspirin. I’ve always found that—”

“Stop!” he bellowed once again. “Just be quiet for a moment.”

Her chattering was already working. This wasn’t a simple mountain man. Under duress, his short verbal gruffness had revealed a sophisticated speech with an underlying Scottish brogue.

He closed his eyes for a minute, then blinked them back open. “Are you for real?”

Mary Grace rubbed Tink’s head. Time to make good use of her famous interview skills. “I’m not sure how to answer that question, but if you’re Ned, then we definitely have several things to discuss, and sooner would be better, considering someone shot me earlier.”

Seeing the stunned look on his face, she gave him a big, warm Georgian smile.

He attempted to smile back, but it looked more like a feral grin, throwing her game back in her face. “Who’s your brother?”

He had picked out the key part of her chattering, which shouted of intelligence. She’d have to tread carefully around this man.

“Well, technically, he’s my stepbrother, but I refer to him as my real brother because we’re very close.”

His chair slid back as he stood and walked to the side of her bed. Her fingers tightened on Tinker Bell as he towered over her. He was even larger than she had originally thought, but she forced her hands to relax.

“Your brother’s name?”

It really made her mad when her hands shook. “Bobby Lancaster.”

His eyes narrowed, and his large hands fisted at his sides. Deep, abiding fear sliced through Mary Grace, but she gallantly lifted her chin and glared at him.

He leaned over her and Tink and his long beard tickled her chin, he was so close. “Where is he?” he breathed in an ominous tone.

Fury filled Ned when Bobby Lancaster’s name rolled off her lips. It didn’t help his disposition that he found the irritating woman beautiful, either. She had light brown hair with sun-kissed streaks winding through the strands, and those golden eyes of hers were enough to bring a man to his knees. He imagined her soft-spoken Southern accent encouraged people, both men and women, to spill all their well-kept secrets.

He refused to fall into her trap.

“Where’s Bobby?” Anger made his words sound harsh. He almost regretted his question when she scooted away from him, toward the wall that the bed was pushed against, but he didn’t move.

The rat growled, but Ned ignored it until his own dog pushed his way between Ned and the bed. He was stunned. Krieger was protecting the woman and her dog. He growled at Krieger and his dog growled back. He couldn’t believe this little slip of a woman had turned his trusted companion against him.

Ned knew his mother would have been appalled at the way he was treating Mary Grace Ramsey, and his dog might have decided to trust her, but that little ping he’d felt in his heart right after she spoke for the first time and defended her rat dog went still. A dark wall of mistrust replaced any minute tender feelings he had allowed himself to feel.

His gut clenched when her lower lip quivered, but he felt justified in his wariness when she pasted on another warm smile.

“I take it you know my brother, and that must mean you’re Mountain Man, or rather Ned. I’m so glad I found you. You wouldn’t believe what I’ve been through—”

“Stop!”

Ned backed away from the woman and winced at the expression of relief on her face. Maybe he did need an aspirin. He grabbed the wooden chair from in front of the fireplace, flipped it backward close to the side of the bed and straddled it. He nudged Krieger out of the way, leaned forward and folded his arms across the back of the chair.

“Let’s start over. Yes, I’m Ned. I want to know exactly why you’re on my mountain and I would highly advise you to tell the truth.”

She scrunched up her pert little nose. “My gram would have something to say about your manners and hospitality.”

He leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms over his chest and waited. It took less than two seconds. The woman could probably talk the hair off a dog.

“Fine. You know my name. Bobby is my brother, and two days ago I found a note from him that someone had slipped into my tote bag. It said he’s in big trouble, but that he’s innocent and for me not to trust anyone inside the Beltway or I might get myself killed. That’s where I live, you know. Well, not actually inside the Beltway. I have a sweet little town house just outside the city in Arlington—”

Ned couldn’t help himself, he released a low growl and she quickly got back on track.

“Sorry, anyway, he told me to contact you, that you’re a big part of whatever is going on and that you could protect me. I’m really glad I found you, because besides getting shot here, I’m pretty sure someone tried to run me down in the city. I was afraid to call the police because of Bobby’s warning, so here I am.”

“Where’s Bobby?” Ned now wanted to wring her stepbrother’s neck for several reasons. He’d planned to personally interview Bobby if his carefully laid plan to draw the bad guys to his mountain didn’t work out, and he’d also wondered if Bobby had been coerced to do what Ned had proof he’d done. Either way, Bobby was involved in the mission that left Ned’s best friend in a wheelchair for life and now he’d placed his own sister in danger.

Unless Bobby had sent her to Ned’s mountain to finish the job someone had botched in England—to rid the world of Ned and Finn. Another startling question begged to be answered—how had she found him? Only a handful of people knew where he’d holed up.

She picked at a thread on the plaid blanket. “I, um, don’t know where Bobby is.” She lifted her head and started gabbing again. “And that’s the honest truth. I tried calling him and even called his boss at Langley. They said he was on leave. I’m really worried. Bobby and I are pretty close. You see, he was only eight years old when my mama decided to marry his daddy—”

She stopped talking when Ned raised a hand in the air.

“I’m not interested in your life story.” He leaned forward again. “How did you find me?”

He could almost see the wheels turning behind those sharp golden eyes. She might act like a silly Southern debutante, but Ned had learned long ago how to cut through a ton of garbage and grab the nugget hidden inside. His gut screamed that she was smart as a whip, and he seldom read people wrong. The question was whether she was telling the truth or planned to slit his throat the first chance she got.

She pulled the thread completely out of the plaid blanket and tossed it to the floor. The fact that she didn’t have a ready answer told him she was carefully weighing her words.

“The note Bobby slipped into my bag said I was in serious danger and that I’d be safe with Mountain Man, who was currently residing in Jackson Hole. The sheriff gave me directions to this mountain, and I was afraid Tink and I were going to freeze to death before I found you.”

She rubbed a hand across the quilt and stared at the unique coloring. “Is this some kind of a special design? Kind of like the tartan colors they use in Scotland?” She glanced around the cabin again. “And speaking of colors, you don’t have any Christmas decorations.”

Based on the hideous Christmas sweaters the woman and her dog were wearing, Ned assumed she was a big fan of the holiday, but he made sure his expression revealed none of his hidden thoughts. He hadn’t celebrated Christmas in a long time.

He studied her a moment longer and a facet of her personality settled in his gut. Her chatter and speech slowed down when she went on a fishing expedition, and she was trying to find out more about him, hence the question about the quilt. She must have picked up on his Scottish accent, which proved her power of observation was keen, but he didn’t have time to play games. The man he had allowed to get away was still on his mountain because the perimeter alerts would have gone off if he’d left.

He had to determine if the intruder was after him or Miss Ramsey. Speaking of which...

“Are you married?”

Her head jerked up and her light brown eyebrows scrunched together.

“There’s a killer out there and you want to know if I’m married?” Her voice raised several octaves higher.

He didn’t see anything wrong with the question. It always paid to know whom you were dealing with. He denied the tiny niggle in his chest telling him he wanted to know for personal reasons. That was preposterous. This was about finding Bobby Lancaster and dealing with the people who wanted him and Finn dead, and that was it.

He stared at her without blinking.

“Fine, I’m not married, nor have I ever been.”

He couldn’t stop the next question that shot from his mouth. “Boyfriend?”

She sniffed. She actually sniffed, reminding him of a little old lady.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I don’t have a boyfriend. At least I don’t have one at the moment.”

The tightness in his chest eased and he had no idea why. Her incessant chattering must have scrambled his brain.

“Forget the chitchat. We have a big problem on our hands. I need all the information you can give me. The man who tried to kill you is still on the mountain, and I need to track him down, but first you have to tell me everything.”

Those golden eyes narrowed, reminding him of a mother panther getting ready to strike while defending her young.

“Do you think that’s why Bobby’s in hiding, because someone is trying to kill him, too?”

“You’re sticking to what you’ve told me? You know nothing more?”

Exasperation filled her voice. “I’ve told you everything. Bobby somehow got me that note, telling me to leave DC and find you. Someone tried to run me down in Washington, and then they tried to kill me on this atrocious mountain.”

Ned’s mind worked furiously. He tried to think of a way to rid himself of Mary Grace Ramsey, but her brother had pulled her into this mess, and Ned’s best opportunity of finding the possible traitor was to keep Bobby’s sister as close as possible. Whether major or minor, Bobby was part of what had happened to him and Finn. Whether by choice or not was another matter. Now that Mary Grace Ramsey was in the picture, his plan to lure those responsible to his mountain was trashed. Her brother had now become his only lead and he had to find him.

He rose from the chair, crossed the room and reached for his jacket.

“Where are you going?”

He didn’t hear a speck of fear in her voice. It was more of a demand. He had to give her credit, the lady had guts.

He shoved his arms into the sleeves and strapped the high-powered rifle to his chest.

“I’m going hunting.”

She winced as she threw her legs over the side of the small cot. “But you can’t just leave me here. What if he comes back?” She held out a hand. “Give me a gun.” At his lifted brow, she added, “I know how to shoot.”

He didn’t respond and she lifted her chin. “I’m from Georgia. I know how to handle a weapon.”

“I just bet you do, Miss Mary Grace Ramsey. Do you know how to use a knife, too? Do you plan to slit my throat the first chance you get? Are you and your brother working together to get rid of me and Finn?” He didn’t really think she was there to kill him, especially after she’d been shot trying to find him, but he threw out the question to gauge her reaction.

Her mouth dropped open and Ned wanted to believe she was innocent in all of this, but he’d learned a long time ago that an innocent face could hide a host of danger.

“You’re a very rude man, Ned.”

His lips curled upward at the corners. It was an odd sensation. One he hadn’t felt in a long time.

He placed his hand on the latch to open the solid wooden door, but stilled when Krieger released a low dark growl. Ned sprang into action. “Krieger, to the cellar,” he commanded. He was by Mary Grace’s side within a few strides. He scooped her into his arms and ran to the back of the cabin.

“Wait,” she screeched. “I don’t know what’s going on, but you have to get Tinker Bell, the dog carrier and my backpack.”

Ned shifted Mary Grace to his left side, holding her like a football, wincing when she gasped in pain, and in one fell swoop he ran his arm through the straps of both packs on the floor, grabbed the dog by the scruff of the neck and kicked a lower panel on the back inside wall of the cabin. A portion of the wall lifted just as a huge explosion rocked the small structure.

Ned practically dove into the yawning darkness below as a bright orange detonation took place at the front of the structure and his cabin shook under the force. The woman was screaming and squirming in his arm and her rat dog bit his hand while he was trying his best to save them. He had a sinking feeling in his gut that this whole mess wasn’t going to end well.