Chapter Fourteen

The Ridge’s back alleys were old friends, familiar enough he could travel through them blindfolded. He hung back, keeping an eye on the scout—odds were good the man was heading for the one hotel still open at this time of year.

His guess was confirmed when the newcomer walked through the front door of Smith’s Inn, the thick wooden door swinging shut behind him with a thud. Liam headed for the back entrance, slipping in through the unlocked steel door.

“Hey, Jack!” Tony, the cleaner, smiled as Liam made his way through the maze of access corridors. The older man wore the official hotel uniform—black pants, white dress shirt with a black blazer, his name written above the breast pocket in red script. “Got no extra work for you today—place is pretty empty, aside from the usual suspects.”

“Just checking in.” Liam jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Thought I saw someone come in the front, carrying takeout from the diner. You got some snowstorm chasers?”

Tony laughed. “Oh, that guy. Arrived about an hour ago in the black Charger, the one in the parking lot. Come in for one of those corporate retreats, early arrival.”

Liam tried to sound casual, pushing down the fear bubbling up from his gut. “Right. I remember a group from last year. Hang out in the lobby, go snowshoeing when they’re not doing those bonding exercises.”

“Yep. Not them this time, some other corporation looking to have some alone time for their executives.” He shrugged. “As long as they don’t cause trouble for the long-term renters on the third floor. The company’s the only one scheduled for the weekend, so we can handle it. At least, that’s what Jamie says.” He gave a nonjudgmental grunt. “You want to talk to him? He’s working the main desk.”

“Sure. Thanks.” Liam hung back in the hall long enough to be sure the scout had time to go up to his room before he headed to the front of the building.

Jamie Bomster was a tall, thin man, the third generation to work the business. He’d left the Ridge for a business degree and returned older and wiser, taking over from his father, who sported the same bright red hair.

He smiled as Liam approached, tugging at the bottom of his vest. He always wore the same dark green vest and white dress shirt, no matter what the weather or time of year.

“Jack. How’s it going?”

“Fine.” Liam leaned on the desk, forcing himself to slow down and act as casual as possible despite his racing heart. “Got a few extra minutes, and thought I’d stop by. Just wondering how things were settling down for the winter.”

Jamie glanced to one side, at the nearby desk filled with papers. “Might need another run for firewood. Got a group coming in later today and I’d like to set up the fireplace in the main lounge for them to hang out in—I usually don’t bother, but city folks love that sort of rustic touch and these guys are paying extra, so…”

Liam let out a low whistle. “Extra at this time of year? Good catch on your part.”

Jamie nodded. “Last minute reservation. Played a little hard-to-get but gave in when they flashed the cash. Just like my father taught me.”

“He’d be impressed, I’m sure,” Liam said, rolling with the conversation even as he wanted to drag the young man across the counter and interrogate him. “Who’s the company?”

“Ah…” Jamie looked at his computer screen. “Janus Industries. Never heard of them, but not surprising. Called yesterday, said their regular place overbooked and they wanted to come here.” He spread his hands. “Wasn’t going to turn that down. Accepted their electronic deposit and now just waiting for them to arrive. Only seven of them coming in for their retreat but booked all of the top floor, every darned room to make sure they’d have total privacy. Already warned the diner they might end up making deliveries by snowshoe.”

Liam returned the grin. “Still don’t understand that. Rushing here to be snowed in and cut off from the world.”

“These businessmen want to escape the cell phones and the online noise. It’s what we offer and what they want.” Jamie eyed the stack of papers nearby. “Got to go back to work. But I’ll call if we need any help.”

“I’ll be around.” Liam retreated to the back, careful to avoid Tony on the way out—he wasn’t in any mood for more small talk.

It took the last of his reserve to walk out the back door, fighting the urge to run until he got out of sight of any of the top hotel floor windows. The last thing he needed was for McKay to look out the window and see a man sprinting down the street.

The Sons of Cain had come to the Ridge.

The mercenary group didn’t do retreats, didn’t do vacations. What they did do was hunt down their targets, the high-priced killers noted for a perfect success rate.

He turned down the sidewalk toward the diner, his head spinning as he tucked his hands into his jacket pockets, the frosty air chilling his lungs.

Was he the target? Was Kara involved somehow, her arrival part of their plan?

The thought stopped him still in his tracks.

No.

The Sons didn’t work that way. If they knew where he was, they’d break down the apartment door and kill him, not toss an amnesiac woman from his past into his life. They were paid to assassinate people, not play psychological games. The faster they killed their target, the better—they didn’t earn more for stretching out the catch.

There was no way Kara was involved with the Sons, at least not voluntarily. Period, full stop.

Liam rubbed his chin, scratching through the dark beard.

Wait.

There was another option. It was crazy, but a possibility he couldn’t ignore.

Another target. If true, it’d change the way he’d deal with the professional killers. He might be the only one able to get their target to safety. Marie was good, but she and Dwayne would be hopelessly, horribly outgunned and outmanned if he told them about the Sons—along with all the questions his revelation would create. They’d call for outside help and if he knew anything about the Sons, he knew they didn’t have any qualms about killing civilians to finish the mission and escape capture.

No, this was something he’d have to do on his own.

It beat the hell out of carrying firewood and digging out clogged gutters.

His breath came in short, measured puffs as he charged toward the diner.

But who? Who could they be here for?

He mentally ran through a list of the people in town, finding no one he thought would be a suitable target for the mercenary group. Except for the fact that if he could keep secrets, others could.

Only one way to find out who the Sons were here for.

To say Kara was pissed would be an understatement. She was beyond pissed, at a whole new level of annoyance she couldn’t even begin to describe.

The cold, bitter wind cut through her as she headed for the apartment, her rage growing with each step. The icy patches on the sidewalk slowed her down as she tried to keep the balance between her rage and safety.

By the time she used her spare key to open the apartment door, she was frozen and mad as hell.

Odds were half the town would hear they were fighting by lunchtime, given his abrupt abandonment. Rumors would start about why and who and how and she was sure Geraldine’s gossip train was chugging along at full force creating love triangles, quadrangles, whatever sounded the craziest.

She balled her hands into fists as she pushed the door open and stuffed her keys back into her jacket pocket.

The wet footprints on the front carpet were fresh and matched Liam’s boots.

That son of a…

She paused, listening. A thump came from down the hall, a muttered curse she recognized immediately. Kara headed down the hall, scowling as she went.

What the hell is going on?

Kara walked into the bedroom to see Liam fumbling with an old steamer trunk, dragged out from the closet. She’d given the antique a cursory glance before, saw the lock and let it be. She assumed it was part of his past and, therefore, off-limits.

He looked at her briefly before turning back to the trunk, working the combination lock holding it shut.

“What are you doing?” She fought to keep her voice down below a scream.

“I’m looking for something.” He kept his head down. “Sorry about the diner. Hope breakfast was good.”

That throwaway comment threw more gasoline on the fire.

“I told them to put yours on hold. Guess you won’t be going back.”

His answering grunt chewed on her last nerve, bit it right through. He undid the lock, pulled it free, and tossed it to one side before opening the trunk.

“Wait. Are you going to kill someone? That guy who came into the diner?” She blurted out the first thought coming to the forefront.

“What?” He glared at her. “No.” A pause. “Maybe.”

Kara kicked the lid down, slamming the trunk shut.

Liam barely yanked his hands free in time, letting out a curse.

“What the f—” He grabbed the lid and tossed it back again, shoving her foot off.

She stomped down, holding it in place this time. Water dripped from her shoe, soaking the top of the footlocker.

“I don’t have time to screw around.” Liam snarled. “I need to…”

“What? What?” She cut him off. “Collect what you need to kill an innocent person? I thought you were trying to change your life, not step on the gas in your race to get to Helheim.” In an effort to keep from throttling him, she spread her hands.

“Hel…what? Look.” Liam ran his hands through his long hair. “This doesn’t involve you. I don’t want it to involve you.”

He rested his palms on his thighs. “Kara—I need you to leave. Now. Grab your stuff and head for the police station. You’ll be safe there until the bus arrives. Go to Denver and then somewhere, anywhere—far away from the Ridge. If I survive…” The pained look slayed her. “I’ll come find you when this is all over, I promise.”

“No!” She dropped to her knees beside him, her rage dying like a snuffed candle. “I’m not going to run out on you again. I did it a year ago and regret that even if I don’t remember it.”

“It’s not safe here for you.”

“That doesn’t matter.” Kara grabbed his hand before he could wrench the trunk open again. “Liam. Look at me.”

He turned to her, avoiding her gaze. “Listen. This is all about me. It’s got nothing to do with you. You’ve got to leave town.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” She touched his cheek with her index finger, drawing his eyes up. Her heart ached as she forced her voice down to a low whisper, drowning her anger in the love she felt for him. “Tell me what’s going on. Who was that man in the diner? Why did you run out after him?”

Liam stared at her and she felt the weight of the world settle on her shoulders. “That was Jeff McKay.”

“And you know him because…”

“He’s a member of the Sons of Cain. Their primary scout. His job is to search around the target area, do a quiet recon of the resources available and assess the situation. Document law enforcement in the area, possible resistance to acquiring the target.”

“Who are the Sons of Cain?” She ground her teeth together, forcing herself to be patient.

“A mercenary group.” He opened the trunk again. “If they’re here in town, they’re here for one purpose—to kill someone.”

“You think they’re here for you.” Reality pushed aside her anger as she rocked back on her heels. “That I led them here. That’s why you left me in the diner, that’s why you want me to leave now.” An icy fist gripped her heart, gripped it tight. “You believe I betrayed you.” Her voice broke on the last sentence.

“No. No.” He took her hand in his. “If I believed that, I’d already be on the way out of town.” He hesitated. “I won’t lie to you, for a second, a microsecond, I considered the thought you were a Judas Goat.”

“A what?” The distraction pulled her out of the horrific emotional hole she felt herself slipping into.

“It’s a term. A trained goat is placed with a herd of sheep when they’re quite young, and the herd in time accepts as one of their own. Then, when the owners want to get the herd to the slaughterhouse the Judas goat leads them in—the sheep trust the goat and follow without causing a fuss.”

“Oh.” She frowned, trying to process the information. “Wait. You thought I was a goat?”

“Yes.” The seriousness in his face sent a chill through her veins. “Sent by the Sons to soften me up. Then I thought it out—if they knew I was in the Ridge they’d just show up and kill me. They’re not given to playing the long game—psychology isn’t their strong point.”

“But who would want to hurt you?”

“Given it’s been five years since I walked away, I suspect only one client. My last one.” He withdrew a dark turtleneck from the trunk. “I told you about the village, the civilians I saw massacred. The Valkyrie.”

A throbbing erupted behind her left eye. “Yes.”

“I told you I walked away from it, from everything. I gave the money to charity—including the fee for a job I didn’t finish.”

“But…”

Liam eyed her. “Do you think they’d let me just walk out of the room after returning the money, apologizing that I’d seen a battle angel and changed my mind? Not a chance.”

“So they’ve been hunting you ever since.”

“Which is why I didn’t stay in one place for so long—but the Ridge, it got comfortable. I began thinking it was time to either move on or stay. After all, it’d been five years. Maybe they’d given up.” One edge of his mouth twisted up. “Then you fell against my apartment door in the middle of a thunderstorm.”

“Not a coincidence.” Her stomach churned.

“I’d say not. But whatever the connection is, I know you didn’t betray me.” He paused. “I trust you, Kara. More than I’ve trusted anyone before. If not, I’d already be gone—taken the truck and driven out of town.”

She gave him a wan smile and withdrew her hand. “I can’t blame you for thinking about it. First, I show up on your doorstep, having hunted you down somehow from wherever I was before, and then you’ve got these monsters coming into town… if I were in your place, I’d think the two were related.”

“I did. Then I thought of something else,” Liam said. “There’s a chance, a slim one, that they could be here for someone else. I can’t walk away without knowing the full story. If I’m the target, we’ll deal with it. If it’s another person…” He tapped his chest. “I won’t let them finish the contract. Not in my town.”

“Agreed.” Kara pulled the trunk lid up. “What’s the plan?”

“The plan is for you to leave town, like I said.” Liam picked up a pair of night vision goggles. “That part hasn’t changed. It’s too dangerous for you to stay with me.”

“Not an option.” She snatched the glasses out of his hand. “You can’t take these men on alone. Let’s go talk to Marie and see what she says.”

He took them back and placed them on the floor. “Really? And how do you propose I start that discussion? Hey, Marie—I’m a retired assassin hiding in your town, and a bunch of killers just drove in. How do you think that’ll look?”

“She won’t be happy.”

“That’ll be the least of it. She’ll want to call the professionals in and that’ll lead to a whole lot of dead people.” Liam plucked a USB flash drive out of the trunk and studied it before adding the black stick to the pile. “The Sons won’t sit around and wait for the State Troopers, the FBI, whoever she calls, to arrive and set up to take them into custody. As soon as they get a whiff that law enforcement is on their tail, they’ll do whatever they need to do in order to finish the deal and get out of town. These bastards don’t play around. To avoid being captured, they’ll kill anyone in their way.”

“Okay. Then let me help.” Kara stood up. “Let’s find out why they’re here, and then deal with it.”

“Do you understand who I’m talking about?” He followed, swiping at his jeans. “These are amoral, cold-blooded executioners. People who don’t have any problem killing a woman or taking hostages to complete the contract.” Liam hesitated. “Like I used to be.”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry for putting this all on you. I said I’d put that part of my life behind me, but…”

“No.” Kara patted his chest. “I’m not leaving you. Fate put me here for some reason, and I’m not walking away.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” He stared at her. “You’ve no idea what these men are capable of.”

“You can’t do this alone. And as you said, asking Marie for help isn’t not an option.”

The pained sigh made her smile.

“Right.” Kara cleared her throat. “So where do you want to start?”

Liam looked down at the trunk, studying the contents. “First, we need to find out who the target is. Once we have that information, we can plan from there. We’ll have to move fast. The Sons don’t do long engagements—get in, score the kill, and get out.”

“How much time do we have?”

“Depends.” He eyed her. “As soon as they locate their target, they go for it. If it’s me, they’ll be trying to find out where I am and plan their attack. If it’s someone else, I don’t know. But we’ve got hours, not days.”

She steeled herself. “Tell me what to do.”