She shut her eyes, pressed the towel to her injury, and bit back a groan. A fresh bout of pain sent the room spinning. Slowly, carefully, she shuffled to the bed and sat.
“Let me see that.” The man’s voice was deep and rough, the words slow and strangely precise, as if he had only just recently learned English, though his accent was perfect. She scooted away when he sat beside her and let out a frustratedpuhsound, pulling the towel away to get a look. “Need to clean this up.” He cast a look at the door. “No time right now. Got to move.”
Move? Grimacing, she took in the small, smoke-scented space. “Move where?” She coughed, which made her head pound so hard, everything but the pain receded for a few seconds. When she came out of it, all she could hear was her own raspy breathing.
He got up and came back. When he pressed something cold and wet to the side of her face, she couldn’t drum up the energy to push him away.
“Your eye’s stuck.” He bent close. “Lashes glued. Wipe the blood away.”
He shoved the washrag into her hand and went back to packing. Slowly at first, she scrubbed at her eye, then worked harder to remove the last bit of blood. Finally, she got her eye all the way open, relieved that she could see. “What’s the plan?”
“How about first you tell me how you got that plane?”
“What?”
“Where’d you get the Cub?”
Who was this guy to be questioning her about this? She didn’t trust him, his questions, or his dead-end cabin. “Someone loaned it to me.”
Grunting, he returned to the front door and rammed a board into brackets on both sides, effectively barring it. And locking them inside.
Was this some suicide thing? Had he brought her here to die? Or to wait for the others and hand her over? No, that made no sense. If he was with them, he wouldn’t have drawn her away first. Unless he planned to barter his life for hers.
And where the hell was Campbell Turner?
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to figure it out. “Freaking Amka,” she muttered.
“I’dbe scared.”
“What?”
Even through his dark beard, she could see how tightly the guy pressed his lips together. “You crashed Amka’s plane. She’s gonna kill you.”
“If you don’t kill me first.”
“If I was gonna kill you, I’d have done it on the river.” That was probably true. But who the hell was he?
“How do you know Amka?” she asked.
“Everybody knows Amka. You say sheloanedyou the plane?” He scoffed. “Nobody flies that plane.”
The old woman’s anxious, crinkled face flashed in her mind. “I didn’t steal it, if that’s what you’re insinuating.” Trying for some kind of rapport, she forced a half-assed smirk to her face. If she could just get him talking, maybe she could figure this situation out. “Amka’sscary.”
He watched her closely. His eyes narrowed into dark, suspicious slits. “Who the hell are you?”
“Didn’t we already have this talk? How about you show me yours, I’ll show you mine.” Or some of it. No way was she divulging anything important until she knew who the hell he was.
Ignoring her, he moved to the front wall, swung a big, roughly made shutter over one window, and locked it into place, then did the other. Leo looked around. The cabin was rustic but clean, made of rough-hewn logs and furnished mostly with what appeared to be homemade pieces. The quintessential woodsman’s retreat. Automatically, her eyes scanned for weapons. A rifle hung above the door. An axe leaned against the wall by a fireplace. And while someone more relaxed might have taken it off upon entering, the yeti still wore his rifle strapped across his body. Which again begged the question—was this guy a random mountain man or was he somehow linked to Campbell Turner?
As she watched, he dropped his pack and grabbed another bag.
She blinked. “That’s my flight bag!”
He opened the pockets, upended it on a thick wooden table, and pawed through the contents—Mylar blanket, matches, first aid kit, personal locator beacon. He picked that up and removed the batteries, which ratcheted her fear up a few notches.
“I need that. My team can’t find me without—”
He stopped, slowly turned just his head toward her, and stared. “Your team?”
