When he reached the door, he studied the shadows in the woods to the left and right of the structure. His hand closed on the latch holding the door shut, and he eased up on it, careful not to make a sound. Nick sucked in a deep breath and slammed his heel against the wooden planks. The door flung open, crashing against the wall with the force of his kick.
Nick held back a second and then, crouching low, ducked inside, his eyes adjusting to the gloom within. The room was warm as though someone had been there recently. The glowing coals of a dying fire smoldered in the roughed-in fireplace.
“He’s not here, is he?”
Nick swung around, his weapon pointed at Mary’s chest, her powder-blue jacket covered in a light dusting of white.
Her hands whipped up in a defensive position, her eyes wide, her pretty mouth formed in the shape of a startled O.
“Do you have a death wish, woman?” He yanked her out of the doorframe into the room and shut the door behind her.
“No, but I want to know what happened to my father.” Her voice shook as she stared at the gun. “You would have shot me, wouldn’t you?”
“Maybe I should have.” He shook his head. “You seem hell-bent on getting yourself killed today.” His gaze shifted from her back to the room.
“I’m just concerned about my father.” Her unspoken message told him more than her words.
“You don’t trust me, do you?” His head tipped to the side.
“Would you trust you if you were me?”
Nick chuckled, the absurdity of her words lightening his anger.
“You don’t have to laugh at me. You’re the one carrying a gun. What am I supposed to do, let you shoot my father?”
Lowering his gun, Nick walked over to her and grabbed her shoulders. “I’m not here to kill your father. The sooner you believe me, the sooner we can get on with finding him.” He shouldn’t have moved that close. It only made him want to get closer and he still hadn’t ascertained the safety of their current position. Nick sighed and let go of her.
“I’m trying hard to believe you, but I don’t have much to go on. You haven’t shown me any credentials.”
“We don’t carry them. I work for a secret organization. Emphasis on secret.”
“And that’s supposed to set my mind at ease?” She snorted, rubbing her gloved hands over her arms as if chasing away a chill. “People who live with secrets are only covering nasty truths.”
“Or protecting others.” Nick lifted a book from a makeshift kitchen table. He opened it, fanning through the pages. Dust wafted through the room. “It’s as much as you’ll get. You’ll just have to go on blind faith.”
“That’s a tough sell.” She circled the tiny room in four steps, lifting a sleeping bag from a cot in the corner. “He was here. This is his.
“Are you sure it wasn’t left here and someone else used it?”
Mary lifted the bag and sniffed. “No, that’s Dad’s cologne. I’d know it anywhere.” She hugged the sleeping bag to her chest and stared across the floor at him. “What’s happening, Nick? Who would want to hurt my father?”
“I don’t know any more than I know who killed Frank Richards, but we need to get out of here. If I’m not mistaken, there was more than one set of snowmobile tracks in the snow outside.”
Mary tossed the bag on the cot, and something fell to the floor between the cot and the wall. She reached for it and straightened, a newspaper clutched in her hand. “This is odd.”
“What is?” Nick crossed to stand beside her, staring down at a copy of the Fairbanks Daily News Miner, dated the day before.
“Dad’s on the run and he takes the time to read the newspaper?” A shiver shook her body, and she tucked the paper inside her jacket. “We’d better get back before this snowstorm gets any worse. The temperature is falling fast.”
Nick shook his head. And he thought it couldn’t get any colder. He’d been on missions in frigid climates, but he was fast learning a new meaning for the word cold. “Let me.” He pushed her to the side of the door and opened it, standing away from the entrance. Nothing moved but the continuous downpour of heavy snowflakes.
He glanced at her. “Do I have to tie you up to make you wait for my signal?”
Mary sighed. “No. I’ll wait.”
He didn’t have any rope, but if he did, he’d sure as hell tie her up. Twice now she’d jumped the gun before he’d secured the perimeter. All he could go on was her word, which hadn’t been very reliable thus far. Nick slipped through the door and made a complete circle around the cabin, looking for footprints or any other sign of someone lurking, waiting to pounce.
When he reached the front of the cabin he paused and listened.
