Leah had zero chance to get anywhere near her great-uncle’s apartment, appropriated by Colonel Higgs. Jennifer Fuller had the privilege of cleaning it, although only when he was there. Otherwise, another of those shiny new dead bolts kept the nosy out.
However tempting an opportunity would be, Leah wouldn’t have seized it. Spencer was right; she’d have no idea what she should be looking for. Anyway, she had no desire to find herself in another spot like she had when Joe Osenbrock cornered her. If Spencer hadn’t shown up, she wanted to think she could have fought back effectively or that Dirk would have intervened, but she wasn’t stupid enough to buy into comforting lies. Joe was muscular, mean and lacking in a conscience. Dirk had an athletic body, but his muscles didn’t bulge quite as much, and he struck her as a little quieter and less aggressive than most of the others. Even if he’d tried to step in to protect her—albeit for Spencer’s sake, not hers—he’d have had the shit beaten out of him. Then Joe would have been mad.
Today, in between breakfast and lunch, Leah volunteered hastily for cleaning jobs that would keep her in the main spaces and working with at least one of the other women. There were four of them here, instead of five; TJ said Shelley wasn’t feeling well.
Lifting benches around the table while Lisa Dempsey swept under them, Leah tried to start a conversation. If she made friends, she might learn something, right? Well, it wouldn’t be with Lisa, who completely ignored her, responding only when Leah said something relevant, like, “I see something under there you missed.”
She never looked Leah in the eye, either, which was a good reminder to her that she was supposed to imitate the other women, not befriend them.
Jennifer cracked briefly when Leah said, “That lasagna you made was amazing. You must have worked in a restaurant.”
“Thank you,” she said grudgingly. “I learned from my mother, that’s all.”
“Oh, well, I hope you have a daughter who’ll learn from you.”
Jennifer turned her back and walked away.
A few minutes later Helen whispered, “You shouldn’t’ve said that to her. She’s had miscarriages. I think—”
A footstep presaging the appearance of Del Schmidt silenced her.
Chagrined, Leah scraped frost out of the old chest freezer. Could Jennifer’s body just not hold on to a fetus? One of the veterinarians Leah worked with had had two miscarriages. She and her husband had been devastated.
In this case, though, Leah couldn’t help wondering whether abuse from her husband had ended each pregnancy. Maybe that was unjust, but she didn’t like the way Tim talked to his wife, or how he’d shoved her hard up against a wall when he thought she was giving him some lip. It was all Leah could do to pretend she hadn’t seen what happened.
Spencer was one of the last to show up for lunch, shredded beef tacos and Spanish rice today. He glanced at Leah when she was the last to sidle up to the table and take a seat, but he was immediately distracted by something the man beside him was saying. Shawn somebody. Or was that Brian...Thompson? Townsend? These guys looked an awful lot alike, all Caucasian although tanned, hair shaved or cut very short, big muscles, tattoos on their arms or peeking above their collars. Arne Larson’s looked a lot like one arm of a Nazi swastika, which she thought was more than a little ironic, given how the Scandinavian countries had resisted the Nazi invasion. Obviously, he identified with the invaders and maybe even their genocide.
Leah had a sickening thought. What if her mother had married a black or Latino man? Things would have been different if she, a woman with dark skin, had driven up to announce that she owned the resort. Would Spencer have had any chance at all to save her?
No. How could he have? Higgs wouldn’t have bothered giving her his impassioned speech about inciting a civil war to restore this great country to the true Americans, because she wouldn’t have been one in his eyes.
Her appetite scant, she picked at her food and kept her head down by inclination as well as orders, not even looking toward Spencer.
Toward the end of the meal, though, she heard Tim Fuller say into a lull, “We’re running low on food. Jennifer made a list.”
Higgs mulled that over for a minute before saying, “Wyatt, you take Lisa tomorrow.” He scanned the men around the table. “Schmidt, you go, too.”
Leah didn’t dare look at Spencer to see if he’d betrayed any emotion at all. She hoped she’d succeeded in hiding how she felt, but she was quite sure she wouldn’t be able to take another bite, not when she couldn’t swallow it. Fear squeezed her throat as if a powerful hand had closed around it.
HIGGS TURNED A cold stare on Spencer, who had stopped in front of him with crossed arms. The two men were on their way toward the obstacle course built their first week up here, taking in part of the meadow and forest. “I don’t want to hear it.”
Spencer said what he was thinking anyway. “You didn’t like me taking Leah out of your control.”
Frosting over, the colonel said, “Nobody here is out of my control. Did you forget that?”
He had, misjudging how Ed Higgs would see him stepping in to remove Leah from the chessboard. Damn, Spencer thought incredulously, he was going to have to take her and run, tonight while they still had a chance.
“Are you planning to have her yourself?” he asked.
Higgs’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t rape women.”
“You just encourage your followers to do it.”
“Is that what you think?”
Jaw jutting out, Spencer couldn’t back down. “I think that’s what you’re threatening. Take me out of the picture, show me how I rate.”
“I’ve developed a lot of respect for you. I thought I could trust you. Since you set eyes on her, I’m having to wonder.”
What was it he’d said to Leah? You have to become an Oscar-worthy actor. That was it.
He scoffed, “You seriously think I’d let a sexy piece of tail divert me from our plans? I took her because I don’t like doing without, and I figured I was entitled. If you want her—” I’ll have to kill you. Nope, shrug as if she’s nothing to you.
Higg’s relaxation was subtle. “I don’t.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“The problem is you getting in my face because I chose you to run an errand and you don’t want to do it because you’re afraid someone will put a move on her in your absence.”
“No,” Spencer said coolly. “I’m afraid someone will think they can get away with taking what’s mine, and then I’ll have to kill him. You don’t want to lose a soldier in our war, do you?”
“You said yourself, she doesn’t matter worth shit,” the colonel said impatiently. “What’s your problem?”
“My problem is that I laid my reputation on the line. That matters to me. If you expect me to exert any authority over this bunch, it should matter to you, too. If someone hurts her and smirks at me when I get back tomorrow, what’s it going to look like if I back down from what I promised?” He let that settle for a minute before shaking his head and raising an eyebrow. “I’m not willing to do that. I’ll do your errands tomorrow, but if I find out anyone touched a hair on her head, there’ll be violence. I’m just telling you, that’s all. Don’t be surprised.”
Higgs muttered an obscenity. “Fine. I get it. I’ll reinforce your message tomorrow. If that’ll satisfy you, General?”
Spencer snapped a salute. “It’s Captain, as you know quite well.”
“I never could verify your service.” This was an old complaint.
“The army can be secretive, even with an air force lieutenant colonel. More so when it comes to the records of spec-ops soldiers.”
“Especially snipers,” Higgs grumbled. “I got nothing out of them at Fort Bennett.”
“Well, it’s not as if that’s something I could fake,” Spencer pointed out. “You want to get me a different rifle, I can make a kill shot from over a thousand feet out.”
“Why not the rifle you’re using?”
Spencer had said this before, but he didn’t mind repeating himself. “The M82 loses accuracy over nine hundred yards. It’s a mallet, not a stiletto.”
“A mallet’s what we want, and you’re right. You’ve proved your abilities and more. I’d take one of you over ten of the rest of these grunts.”
“They have their uses.”
Higgs smiled. “Indeed they do.”
Repelled by that smile, Spencer stifled his need to hear Higgs promise that they had a deal. Demanding any such thing would undo all the good he’d just accomplished.
If he had to kill someone tomorrow, he was prepared, but that would do shit for Leah.
His self-control was rarely strained, but as he held back a growl, he was freshly reminded that she’d put more than a few cracks in it.
SCUTTLING ALONG AT Spencer’s shoulder in the morning, Leah asked, “Won’t Higgs be outside most of the day, like usual?” Spencer hadn’t wanted to talk about it last night. In fact, his mood had been foul.
“Probably.” His long stride ate up the ground. “He promised to reinforce my message where you’re concerned. He knows what will happen if anyone bothers you.”
“Well, that’s reassuring,” she mumbled. Nothing like knowing he’d take revenge for her, even if by then she was a bloody, bruised piece of pulp.
“Stick with the other women and you should be all right,” he ordered before they reached the lodge and there was no more chance to talk.
Should was not the most reassuring word in this context.
Since she’d been designated cook for the first time this morning, she had to shove her worries to the back of her mind. With only a little advice on the quantities needed to feed nineteen men and five—no, four—women, she competently turned out pancakes and two platters piled with nice crisp bacon. Nobody said, “Hey, good job,” but as they served the food she felt part of the quartet in a way she hadn’t before.
Of course they’d pretend not to see if someone like Joe Osenbrock assaulted her in the middle of the kitchen.
During the meal Spencer ate mechanically, never so much as glancing at her. The table was barely cleared when he, Lisa and Del Schmidt went out the door. Feeling hollow, Leah pretended not to notice.
While the other men headed out for whatever training scheduled for today, Tim Fuller took up a position in the kitchen, his irritation plain.
Did he hate this detail? His wife seemed more self-effacing than usual, which made Leah suspect either he’d been posted out of rotation or was missing something especially fun—say, they were going to find out today what happened when they fired a rocket into a big pile of boulders.
Had they tried out their rocket launchers yet? They surely wouldn’t dare shoot one upward. Wouldn’t that be picked up on air force or civilian airport radars?
As she was setting the table for lunch, two men walked in. Joe Osenbrock and Carson somebody, another look-alike. Joe’s expression turned ugly as he looked at her.
“Coffee,” he snapped.
She set down the pile of silverware on napkins and wordlessly returned to the kitchen.
“Joe and Carson want coffee,” she said.
“I’ll pour it,” Helen offered.
Leah smiled weakly. “Thanks.”
A minute later she set the mugs down in front of the two men, careful to follow Spencer’s instructions. Head bowed, shoulders rounded, avoid meeting their eyes. She hoped they couldn’t tell that her pulse was racing so fast she felt light-headed.
Neither thanked her, of course. Joe flicked a glance past her, as if checking to see whether anyone was watching.
Knowing she had no choice, she continued setting the table. She finished and headed for the kitchen just as she heard the front door open again, followed by a burst of voices. She hadn’t realized Tim had come out to the dining room until she almost bumped into him.
He stopped her with one hand on her arm. “You’re a lucky bitch,” he murmured. “Don’t count on that lasting.”
Leah shuddered. The minute he released her, she hurried into the kitchen. Had he been assigned to watch out for her? Was that why he’d followed her from the kitchen...and why Joe had kept his distance?
Maybe...but she knew a threat when she heard one.
GETTING AWAY FROM Schmidt long enough to make a phone call wasn’t easy, but Spencer managed. He’d ordered Schmidt to stay with Lisa while he used the john. Then he helped himself to a phone he had spotted at a momentarily empty cashier’s station and took it down the hall toward the public restrooms, an office and what appeared to be an employee break room. It was likely password protected, of course, and he had a phone he could use, but he couldn’t be a hundred percent sure that it was still secure. Even if it had been found, he doubted anyone in the group was sophisticated enough to know how to record his conversation or trace numbers he called, but better safe than sorry. If he could get away with borrowing—
Yes. He’d gotten lucky.
Thank God Ron answered. “Special Agent Ron Abram.”
“This is Wyatt.” No, that wasn’t his name, but he didn’t use his own name even in theoretically safe moments. He had to think of himself as Spencer Wyatt. “I’ve only got a minute.”
“I’m glad you called. I’ve been worrying.”
A woman emerged from the restroom, head bent over her own phone as she passed.
“I have problems,” Spencer said. He summarized the events of the past few days, from Leah Keaton’s arrival to the “deal” he’d made with Ed Higgs to ensure her safety. “Even though I don’t want to quit until I have all the info we need, part of me wants to throw her in my SUV and take off. Trouble is, I’m not even betting we’d get away with that. Del Schmidt drove today. I’m wondering if I won’t find the starter or alternator have kicked the bucket. Or worse, it runs for five minutes and then dies. As it is, Higgs keeps the keys when we’re not using the vehicles.”
“You’re not driving today?”
“No. I wasn’t given the option, which is one reason I suspect sabotage. By standing up for Leah, I awakened suspicion. Higgs has called me on it. I think I talked him around, but I can’t be sure.”
“If you have to cut and run, we’d have no choice but to raid the resort and pull the plug on the operation.”
“Exactly.” He watched two teenage boys laughing and bumping shoulders as they headed for the men’s room. “Leah’s smart. I think she can play her part for a few days. Higgs wants me with him for a meeting Saturday.” The day after tomorrow. “I think it’ll be a meet to acquire some new arms.”
“That’s worth holding out for,” Abram said.
“I hate keeping a civilian in the mix,” Spencer said.
Abram was quiet for a minute. “Damn. I wish you had a panic button.”
“You and me both. I can’t promise when I’ll be able to call again.” He saw a woman wearing a checker’s nameplate at the cashier station where he’d swiped the phone. “Gotta go.”
He quickly deleted a record of his call, shoved the phone in a pocket and strolled that way. Just as he reached it, he said, “Hey! Somebody lost a phone,” and bent over, rising with it in his hand.
“Oh, thank goodness!” she exclaimed. “You’d think I’d have heard it drop.”
“It’s not damaged, is it?”
“Well, there’s no crack anyway.” She beamed. “Thank you.”
“No problem.”
When he rejoined Lisa and Del, now heaping packages of meat into one of the two carts, he asked, “We get any desserts? My sweet tooth has been aching.”
Lisa almost forgot herself so much as to smile. “I’m supposed to pick up some flats of strawberries and blueberries for pies, and rhubarb for a cake.”
“What about some apple pies? Let’s get plenty of ice cream.”
Nodding in agreement, Del said, “We need to load up on chips, too.”
“I’m supposed to keep to a budget,” she said nervously.
“If it looks like we’re going to run over, I’ll pick up the extra,” Spencer said. “Remember, we’re feeding another mouth, too.” Even if Leah hadn’t eaten enough to keep a bird alive, as far as he could see. He’d have to get on her about that.
“Thanks,” Lisa said shyly. “I don’t want to make anyone mad.”
“I’ll be mad if I don’t get an apple pie,” Spencer joked.
The mood stayed good as they shopped and then packed huge quantities of food in the rear and on one backseat of the big SUV. Spencer made sure neither of the others saw even a trace of his growing tension as they made the drive heading northeast on increasingly poor roads.
If he found Leah hurt, he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t grab the closest fully automatic weapon and start spraying bullets.
When at last they pulled up in front of the lodge, he hopped out, waited for the rear hatch to rise and grabbed bags of potatoes and a couple of flats of canned goods, then took the steps to the porch. He had to shift the load a little to reach the knob, shouldered the door open and walked in. The first person he saw was Joe Osenbrock, sitting beside Tim Fuller at the long table. Spencer clenched his teeth until his back molars hurt.
He passed the two without a word, without pausing long enough to read expressions, and went into the kitchen.
One of the other women was off to his right. He didn’t even know which one. All he saw was Leah, turning from the sink, her hands encased in plastic gloves, a scrub brush held in one of them. The relief and something more that suffused her face did a number on him.
“Leah,” he said hoarsely.
Can’t drop my load and take her into my arms.
He couldn’t even ask if she was all right. He hated that.
Her eyes widened at whatever she saw on his face. What she did was flush, draw a deep breath and say, “Oh, good. I was hoping potatoes were on the list. I’m not sure we have enough...” She bit her lip and ducked her head. “I’m sorry.”
Sorry for? But he knew. Some men here would have backhanded her for that artless chatter, especially given the implication that he might have screwed up by not buying everything that was needed.
He tore his eyes from her, saw Jennifer watching them. “Where do you want this stuff?” he asked.
“Oh, in the pantry.” Maybe reading his expression, she added hastily, “Or...anywhere is good. We can put everything away.”
Footsteps behind him heralded Del’s arrival with more food. On his heels, Lisa carried more than she should have to.
“Wherever is best,” he said shortly, and went to the pantry.
As he made three more trips back and forth from the SUV, he couldn’t help wondering what Jennifer thought she’d seen, and whether she talked to her husband. Or whether he listened to her if she did.
After depositing the last load, he said, “I hope dinner isn’t far off. I’m starved.”
It was Jennifer who answered, the tiniest edge in her voice. “No, not if Leah gets on with that potato salad.”
“I’m hurrying,” Leah said, sounding chastened.
Turning to stalk out of the kitchen, Spencer knew he’d be happy never to hear her sounding so diminished again.
But if they were going to hold out long enough for him to make this mission a success, that was one wish he wouldn’t get.