Holiday Mountain Conspiracy

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.

THREE

Throwing up became a real possibility for Mary Grace. She gritted her teeth against the pain in her side as Ned held her tight with one arm while running down a flight of stairs into total darkness. She couldn’t believe someone had bombed the cabin. Was there more than one man following her on the mountain? She was used to reporting the news, not being part of it.

“Hang tight. We should be okay. The cabin is built with reinforced steel under the wood.”

She couldn’t respond. Air hissed through her teeth until he gently placed her on the floor. She took a deep breath as a lantern flickered to life. The light reflected on Ned’s fierce, concerned expression and she took another quick breath to calm herself. A mass of emotions roiled through her. Fear and—she couldn’t believe it under the circumstances—still that annoying attraction to the man currently hovering over her. It wasn’t possible. She barely knew the guy and he had the manners of a warthog, but there it was, the tiniest little flutter in her heart. She ignored it.

Tink whimpered and Ned’s big dog trundled over to offer what Mary Grace assumed was comfort. It worked because Tinker Bell quit shivering and growled when the massive dog licked her on the face. The limp and tattered Christmas bows had disappeared and her sweet little dog looked like a wrung-out dishrag in her previously pristine doggy Christmas sweater.

Tentatively, Mary Grace reached out and laid a hand on the large animal next to her little one. “Sweet Krieger. Nice doggy.” He allowed her to pet him. His fur was long and felt wiry to the touch.

“Mary Grace,” Ned said in a soft tone, “I’m going to have to recon the area. I bandaged your wound before you woke up, but I need to check and see if it started bleeding again.”

Mary Grace didn’t want to talk about the explosion and the men who had just tried to decimate them. Not just yet. She needed a minute. “When we get through this, you’ll have to tell me how you and Krieger met. He seems like a sweet dog, once you get to know him.”

Ned kneeled in front of her and placed the lantern on the hard, cold dirt-packed floor.

“I was wrong about you.”

Her hand stilled in Krieger’s wiry, comforting fur. “What?”

“I thought you were tough, but here you are, wimping out on me at the first sign of trouble.”

Her nostrils flared at the insult. “You don’t know anything about me, so how dare you accuse me of being a wimp.”

He grinned and she realized he had done the same thing to her that his dog had to Tinker Bell.

“I can check my own wound,” she said, embarrassment threading through her words.

Mary Grace lost her train of thought when he smiled again, revealing a set of perfectly aligned, sparkling white teeth. The man definitely wasn’t what he appeared to be and her reporter’s curiosity was roused. Maybe she’d do a piece on him once they were out of this mess. He had a closet full of secrets and she could literally smell a story.

“I didn’t know you were modest.” He actually chuckled. “Don’t worry, the bullet went straight through the fleshy part of your waist. Even though you bled a good bit, it’s not a serious wound.”

“Easy for you to say.”

He stood and towered over her before reaching for something under the staircase. He came out with a pistol and handed it to her. “You said you knew how to use one of these.”

She grasped the gun and looked it over. “SIG Sauer P38. Perfect.”

He chuckled one more time before climbing the stairs. Over his shoulder, he issued a command. “Krieger, protect the woman and dog.”

Before she could protest, he disappeared silently through the hidden doorway.

Her hand shook as she checked to make sure the gun was locked and loaded. She had done her best to hide her true emotions from Ned. She was not only terrified at the situation she found herself in, but worried sick about Bobby. As far as she knew, her brother was a simple computer analyst with the CIA. They had lured him in straight after school by offering to pay off his college loans if he’d work for them for five years. Mary Grace had advised him against it because she knew how naive Bobby was and how political the CIA had become. She offered to help him until he got established, but he was determined to make it on his own.

After rubbing a hand over her wound to make sure it wasn’t bleeding, she picked up the lantern and held it high, checking out the cellar. It wasn’t very large—about half the length of the cabin. Both the walls and floor were constructed with hard-packed dirt, but the interesting thing was the canned food and water stored on crude shelves built against the wall. Matches, several more lanterns and a first-aid kit were there if needed.

Settling her back against the wall, she kept the gun in her hand and her ears peeled for any sound coming from upstairs. Both Krieger and Tink snuggled beside her, and she decided to review the information she had so far. It helped to keep her calm and her mind from wondering whether Ned was okay out there on that freezing, fierce mountain with killers running loose.

She knew next to nothing about the man living on this mountain in the middle of nowhere. Was Ned his real name, and what was his last name? What did he do for a living? Her reporter’s curiosity had been roused and she knew from experience that she wouldn’t stop until she found out everything there was to know about the man.

In her mind’s eye, she went over what she’d seen of the cabin, searching for clues. The place itself wasn’t much to look at. Log walls. A tiny kitchen/living area. The bed she’d lain in was pushed against the wall and there was one door, besides the obvious front door, that probably led to the bathroom.

What struck her was the neatness of the place. It made her think of military precision. An old couch with a ratty afghan folded across the back sat in the middle of the living area. A coffee table squatted in front of the couch, but there were no side tables. No computers or TV anywhere. Mary Grace’s eyes narrowed as she remembered seeing a large landscape painting hanging on the wall beside the bed. She had only glanced at it, but the quality seemed out of sync with the cabin, so she filed the information away. In the past, she’d broken stories wide open by taking note of the smallest details.

She shivered and both dogs snuggled closer. She knew she should do a better check on her wound, but she didn’t want to lose the warmth of the animals.

Chewing her lower lip, she tried not to worry about Bobby, but she couldn’t stop herself. He was the only family that counted outside of Gram Ramsey. She still prayed for her mother and stepfather, but had pretty much given up hope of them overcoming their gambling addiction. She smiled as she thought of her grandmother. The older woman was a spitfire and Mary Grace knew this time of year the old historic house would be traditionally festooned with Christmas decorations—a lot of them made by Mary Grace and Bobby when they were kids—and a huge live tree. Gram stood about five feet two inches in her stockings, but her strong will and absolute faith made her seem ten feet tall. She had withstood the tests of time with an elegance that Mary Grace could only aspire to.

A scratching noise upstairs jerked her out of her musings. Krieger got to his feet and quietly stood at the foot of the stairs. Reacting quickly, Mary Grace clamped a hand over Tinker Bell’s snout before the dog could bark. She held her breath and heard a shuffling noise that sounded like someone walking through the remains of the cabin. Whoever it was stopped at the top of the stairs.