The information she sought was buried deep and scattered wide. But Eva scraped together enough random, seemingly disconnected details to begin to form a picture. No surprise, it all pointed a finger at the Wagner Group—Putin’s hired goon squad.
Riding a high that only solving a puzzle could create, Eva loaded all the information into the share drive that only Grozev had access too. She left him a cryptic message to let him know the information was there waiting for him, then flipped the laptop closed.
Between the adrenaline coursing through her veins and the fact she hadn’t stood in what had to be hours, she felt the need to move. Standing, she stretched and glanced around her.
Linc was nowhere in sight but evidence of his having been there was everywhere.
The staircase was bedecked in greenery, as was the near comically massive doorway. Turning she saw he’d found the white drape that she’d purchased and had laid it out along the ten-foot-wide fireplace mantle.
She smiled when she saw he’d gathered the various small-scale dead things from around the lodge, dressed them in the tiny Santa hats she’d ordered and placed them in a procession on the snowy cloth.
“You’ve returned to the land of the living, I see.”
She turned at the sound of Linc’s voice to see him carrying two bowls and spoons. “You didn’t get to the ornaments, I see,” she countered.
His brows rose as he stopped in front of her. The scent of whatever was in those bowls had her stomach growling. His lips twitched as he handed her one. “Sit. Eat.”
“What is it?” She glanced down at the lumpy contents.
“Beef stew.”
“Olivia’s?” she asked hopefully.
Linc huffed as he sat in the leather armchair opposite her. “I wish. Haven’t had a good home cooked meal in weeks.”
“Tell me about it. Your brother knocking up my friend has been very inconvenient.”
“No kidding,” he mumbled as he shoveled a spoonful into his own mouth.
She sat again and dipped the spoon tentatively into the bowl. Scooping up a piece of carrot and potato with some broth, she tasted the mouthful. It wasn’t bad. Hot. Hearty. Maybe a tad too much salt.
“Did you make this?”
“Made a pot yesterday.” He nodded. “I figured you’d be hungry after working through dinner time.”
She glanced up and saw it was dark outside. It had been light when she’d arrived, but it could be dark at four-thirty in the winter so that didn’t mean much. “Is it dinner time?” she asked.
“It’s seven-thirty.”
As if on cue, a clock she hadn’t noticed before chimed somewhere nearby. One of those long elaborate kind of chimes.
“Make that seven-forty-five,” Linc corrected himself.
Her brows rose. She had been working a long time. She dug in for another scoop, grabbing a square hunk of meat this time. The tender beef fell apart in her mouth and she resisted the urge to groan as the well-seasoned flavor tickled her taste buds.
She noticed him watching her and felt compelled to say something. “This is good. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
Too much civility, especially between her and Linc, felt weird, so she broke the spell and said, “Did you get outside done?”
He nodded. “I got the greens up around the doorway and on the columns just before the snow started.”
“Snow?”
“Yup.”
She narrowed her eyes as she saw the barely contained smirk on his face. “Go ahead. Say I told you so.”
He shook his head, though the amused expression remained. “Don’t have to. I think the snow speaks for itself, don’t you?”
“Smart ass.”
He let out a short laugh at her mumbled comment.
“And I didn’t hang the ornaments because I wasn’t about to put up twelve dozen and then have you come out of your trance and tell me I did it wrong,” Linc continued.
She couldn’t argue with him there. “Fair point. I’m done for now. I can help you with the ornaments.”
“That would be nice,” he said, with a good dose of attitude.
She didn’t give him the satisfaction of a comeback, but instead kept eating.
“So, what are you working on, anyway?” he asked.
Oh, great. They’d reached the pointless small talk portion of the evening, which was annoying enough. But having to dance around his question with an answer that would satisfy him and not expose her, pissed her off.
“Just a project for a client,” she said, not exactly lying.
“What kind of project?” he prodded.
“Research.”
“About what topic?” he continued, not letting up.
She raised her gaze to shoot him a glare. “What’s with all the questions?”
He lifted one shoulder. “Just trying to figure out if you really are a hacker who works on the dark web like Poppy thinks you are.”
His deadpan expression made her think he might not be kidding. He’d hit on the truth, so she forced a laugh, shook her head and said, “What? That’s Poppy for you.”
He cocked a brow. “Mm-hm.”
Time for some offense. “What did you do in the Army? You see a lot of action?”
Now he outright laughed. “Good one.”
“Good one what?” she asked
“You didn’t want to answer my questions so you asked something you knew I wouldn’t want to talk about to shut me up.”
“What? That sounds like some kind of crazy psychological warfare that I wouldn’t know anything about. Real SpecOps type stuff. Something someone would learn in Special Forces. Or Delta. Not little old me.”
He leveled a stare on her. She could see him chewing on the inside of his lip. That was a tell if ever she saw one. The details about Linc’s service were few and far between. The few times—very few—that it had come up in conversation around the family, no one revealed any real details about it, which had made her wonder.
“So, uh, once we knock out those ornaments, we’re done?” he asked.
It looked like she might have been right in her guess. Maybe he hadn’t been regular Army. Either way, the topic seemed to have shut down his inquisition of her. That was the goal so she was happy.
“Yup. Then you won’t have to see me again until we’re getting the food ready.”
“Sounds good.” He nodded.
“Yes, it does,” she agreed.
That clock sounded again, doing a whole long song and dance followed by eight slow bongs. Eight o’clock.
It was getting late. Not for her. She was usually up well past eleven. Usually closer to one. But Linc was up with the sun for the cows. Or horses. Or whatever.
“I should probably get going. We can finish up another day.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think you’re going anywhere. At least not in that car with those tires.”
“What do you mean?”
“Have you looked outside? It’s probably over four inches now and still falling hard.”
That much? Maybe she should look outside. But if there was one thing New Yorkers knew how to do, it was drive in the snow.
She dismissed his concern with a wave of her hand. “I’m used to snow. Upstate New York. Remember?”
He nodded. “The town plow your snow up there?”
“Yes. And they salt or sand the roads too.”
“On Roan Mountain we’re not going to see a town snowplow for hours yet. And on the Wilder property, no snow is getting cleared until Ethan gets his ass outside and hooks the plow up to his truck. With Poppy warming his bed now, you think that’s going to be before morning?” Linc asked.
Her eyes widened. “So what are you saying?”
“I’m saying there are clean sheets on the bed in the guest room and a new toothbrush in the closet. You’re tall enough, you’ll fit in a pair of my sweatpants and I’ve got plenty of shirts for you to borrow to sleep in.”
She shook her head. This was not happening. A whole night, here, alone with Linc. “No. I can’t stay.”
“Well, you can’t leave either so…” He tipped his head to the side. “I would get the snowmobile and drive you up to the big house so you can be snowed in with your besties, but it hasn’t been used since last winter and the battery’s dead on it. I’ll go out and hook it up to the battery charger as soon as I’m done eating, but it’s gonna need the night to charge.”
Her friends would tease her relentlessly if she spent the night here. But it didn’t seem like she had any choice.
She would have her own bed. How bad could it be? So what if Linc was here in the lodge too? He’d be in his room and she’d be in hers.
Eva drew in a breath. It would be fine. The house was warm. The WiFi was strong. There was food and electricity…
As the thought crossed her mind the lights flickered off then back on.
Linc put the bowl down and stood, heading for the fireplace.
“What are you doing?”
“Making a fire and lighting some candles.”
She didn’t want to ask the question because she feared she already knew the answer, but she did anyway. “Why?”
“Because we’re likely going to lose power.”
“Any chance you have a generator?” she asked.
“I do.” He nodded. “I’ll fire that up if we’re out for more than a few hours. It’s small but it runs the fridge, the well pump for water and the heat wrap on the pipes so they don’t freeze and burst.”
“And the heat and lights?” she asked hopefully.
He leveled a stare at her as the match burned in his hand and said, “No,” before he bent and lit the paper beneath the kindling in the fireplace.
“I suppose WiFi is out of the question.”
He laughed. “You are correct.”
Moving to the table, he lit a couple of candles then reached into the drawer and pulled out two flashlights.
“But the kitchen stove is propane so we can cook, and we’ll be able to flush the toilet and use the sink, so it’s not so bad.”
“Maybe the electric won’t go out…” she began.
After all, it had only been one little flicker, but he was acting like it was a black out.
A crack echoed outside that sounded like a tree breaking in half. That was followed immediately by a loud buzz and boom. Then the lodge was plunged into darkness save for the candles and the fire that Linc had the foresight to light, as if he’d known this would happen.
“There goes the transformer,” he said before turning to glance at her. “What were you saying about the electric?”
Well, shit.