The scrape of boots on snow grew louder as the men approached. Stacy took a slow, deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. She recognized them now—the bearded man, Bruce and the shorter figure of Shane, a black buff pulled up over his nose. She turned her head away as the men neared, notwanting light reflected from her pale face to alert them to her presence.
Shane and Bruce were almost even with Stacy and Connor when an engine’s roar shattered the night’s silence.
“Who is that?” Bruce asked.
“Probably just Nate,” Shane said.
“Is he finished already?”
“He’s younger than us,” Shane said. “And more reckless.”
Bruce’s answer was a grunt.
Stacy’s gaze met Connor’s. The arrival of a third man complicated things. She turned to follow the approaching snowmobile and saw her father moving down toward it. Good. He could keep an eye on Nate while she and Connor handled Shane and Bruce.
She stepped down off the trail, feeling for firm footing. Connor climbed up, intending to come in behind the two men. Another foot, and Shane and Bruce would be on them. She raised her weapon. “Stop!” she shouted. “This is the FBI. You’re under arrest.”
Shane reached into his coat.
“Don’t move,” Connor said. “I’m right behind you.”
“Put your hands up where I can see them,” Stacy said.
“This is just a misunderstanding,” Shane said. “I can explain.”
“You can explain later,” Stacy said. “For now, you’re under arrest.”
“You don’t understand what I’m trying to do here,” Shane insisted. “I promised my father on his deathbed that I’d do everything in my power to rebuild the legacy our family lost. I’m only trying to regain what should have been mine all along.”
“Shut up,” Bruce said. “They don’t want to hear it.”
“But if you’ll just listen…” Shane began.
Bruce let out a roar and charged toward Stacy. She fired, but as she braced herself, her foot slipped, and she fell, sliding down the hill, then rolling too fast to stop.
A scream tore from Stacy’s throat, silenced only when she landed, hard, at the bottom of the cliff. She fought for breath, a sharp pain in her chest. Her vision blurred, and she was unable to move.
Then someone grabbed her. “Don’t move, or I’ll kill you now,” a man’s voice said close to her ear and shoved the barrel of a gun hard into her side.
Chapter Eighteen
Stacy’s shot had gone wide, almost grazing Connor. He fired and hit Bruce in the shoulder. The man staggered and turned toward him. “On your knees,” Connor ordered. “Now!”
Bruce dropped to his knees. Farley rushed to his side but didn’t touch the man. Shane knelt beside him.
George climbed up beside them. “Throw out your weapons,” he barked.
Both Bruce and Shane tossed their guns into the snow. George picked up one of the weapons, checked that it was loaded, then kicked the other aside. Connor moved down to join them. He wanted to go to Stacy, but he couldn’t leave George alone with these two just yet. In fact, what was George doing up here? He was supposed to be down the trail ahead of him.
“What about the man who just arrived on the snowmobile?” he asked George.
“It’s Anthony,” George said. “He’s waiting below. That’s what I came up to tell you.”
That was some good news. “He can look after these two while we look after Stacy.”
George looked around. “Where is Stacy?”
“She fell.” Connor gestured below. “You didn’t see her?”
