signed for three days earlier flashed on the tiny screen. He was in a cabin up on the north ridge of the Crazies, a small mountain range less than an hour from the Brethren compound. According to the rest of the information, a high-elevation snowfall had trapped him up there. But the snow was melting off. And Del’s other men were needed at the compound. She had to get to Logan before he got off that mountain.
“Sounds like a fun vacation,” she muttered.
Hey, it beats an evening with Cindy-Lou and the Whos
. Not wanting to think about where her head had been several hours before, she switched off the PDA and pocketed it, then put the disc in the dashboard ashtray and closed it. She heard the crunch, signifying the tiny compactor had done its job and demolished the disc. She smiled with satisfaction and shifted gears.
“Ready or not, Logan Blackstone, here I come.”
Five hours and considerable exhaustion later, Scottie eased into a crouch behind a large pile of stones. The cabin was about fifty yards dead ahead. Obviously built for use by hunters, it was nestled in a clearing on the leeward side of a fairly steep rise. A steady stream of smoke trailed from the single chimney. She sniffed the air. Woodstove. There were no lights on inside and no sign of activity, no tracks outside.
A green truck, up to its oversize tires in snow, was parked in front. A white lump that was the snowmobile was situated out back.
She thought about the snowmobile she’d hidden a mile back down the mountain. A shame their design team hadn’t been able to figure out a way to make those things silent. She was tired and half dead from the two-hour climb up the last section of the mountain. She hoped Mr. Blackstone didn’t mind if she put him out of commission long enough for her to take a hot shower and a brief nap.
Del hadn’t left any instructions on exactly how he expected her to contain Logan Blackstone, other than that simple surveillance would not be enough. Which meant there was only one way to handle this: Take prisoners, apologize later.
She stowed her pack behind the boulders, then ran along the tree line in a half crouch before darting into the truck. She worked quickly to disable it, then moved back around to the snowmobile and did the same there. She checked the house. Still quiet. No lights, no sounds.
“Sleeping like a baby. Let’s see if I can extend your stay in dreamland a bit.” She patted the zippered pocket of her parka and felt the leather case. All set.
She headed quietly to the back corner of the cabin.Del’s team had been thorough. The bedroom window was on the far side of the cabin. She was currently beneath the kitchen window. There was no security system, so it was a no-brainer B & E. Still, she didn’t take any unnecessary chances. Just by being there Logan had proved he was not to be underestimated.
She quietly jimmied the sliding glass door, then slipped inside. She was standing in the open space between the kitchen and the living area. Furnishings were sparse and utilitarian. She guessed hunters didn’t care much for decor, only a place to eat and sleep between killing things.
She removed her parka and slipped the leather case from the pocket before moving silently toward the door leading to the only bedroom. It surprised her that whoever had built the place had seen a need for interior walls at all. She peeked around the corner … and froze.
She had no idea what she’d expected, but it hadn’t been the naked man sprawled on his back across the double bed.
He was big and dark, with skin that looked tawny even in the predawn light, skin that was wrapped tightly over sinewy muscles. He looked … primitive. Like a jungle predator at rest. The bed was framed with thick poles of rough-hewn oak. It barely contained him. The white linen sheet was twisted around him as if he’d been wrestling alligators in his sleep. The blankets and pillows were flung on the floor, previous victims who’d
“Sounds like a fun vacation,” she muttered.
Hey, it beats an evening with Cindy-Lou and the Whos
. Not wanting to think about where her head had been several hours before, she switched off the PDA and pocketed it, then put the disc in the dashboard ashtray and closed it. She heard the crunch, signifying the tiny compactor had done its job and demolished the disc. She smiled with satisfaction and shifted gears.
“Ready or not, Logan Blackstone, here I come.”
Five hours and considerable exhaustion later, Scottie eased into a crouch behind a large pile of stones. The cabin was about fifty yards dead ahead. Obviously built for use by hunters, it was nestled in a clearing on the leeward side of a fairly steep rise. A steady stream of smoke trailed from the single chimney. She sniffed the air. Woodstove. There were no lights on inside and no sign of activity, no tracks outside.
A green truck, up to its oversize tires in snow, was parked in front. A white lump that was the snowmobile was situated out back.
She thought about the snowmobile she’d hidden a mile back down the mountain. A shame their design team hadn’t been able to figure out a way to make those things silent. She was tired and half dead from the two-hour climb up the last section of the mountain. She hoped Mr. Blackstone didn’t mind if she put him out of commission long enough for her to take a hot shower and a brief nap.
Del hadn’t left any instructions on exactly how he expected her to contain Logan Blackstone, other than that simple surveillance would not be enough. Which meant there was only one way to handle this: Take prisoners, apologize later.
She stowed her pack behind the boulders, then ran along the tree line in a half crouch before darting into the truck. She worked quickly to disable it, then moved back around to the snowmobile and did the same there. She checked the house. Still quiet. No lights, no sounds.
“Sleeping like a baby. Let’s see if I can extend your stay in dreamland a bit.” She patted the zippered pocket of her parka and felt the leather case. All set.
She headed quietly to the back corner of the cabin.Del’s team had been thorough. The bedroom window was on the far side of the cabin. She was currently beneath the kitchen window. There was no security system, so it was a no-brainer B & E. Still, she didn’t take any unnecessary chances. Just by being there Logan had proved he was not to be underestimated.
She quietly jimmied the sliding glass door, then slipped inside. She was standing in the open space between the kitchen and the living area. Furnishings were sparse and utilitarian. She guessed hunters didn’t care much for decor, only a place to eat and sleep between killing things.
She removed her parka and slipped the leather case from the pocket before moving silently toward the door leading to the only bedroom. It surprised her that whoever had built the place had seen a need for interior walls at all. She peeked around the corner … and froze.
She had no idea what she’d expected, but it hadn’t been the naked man sprawled on his back across the double bed.
He was big and dark, with skin that looked tawny even in the predawn light, skin that was wrapped tightly over sinewy muscles. He looked … primitive. Like a jungle predator at rest. The bed was framed with thick poles of rough-hewn oak. It barely contained him. The white linen sheet was twisted around him as if he’d been wrestling alligators in his sleep. The blankets and pillows were flung on the floor, previous victims who’d
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