Chapter 9 #2
"The same thing everyone wants, Ms. Bennett. To go home at the end of the day knowing my affairs are in order." A pause. "Gabriel has made that difficult. But you—you might be able to help."
"I'm not helping you with anything."
"Not even to save his life?" Crane's voice remains pleasant, conversational. "Because that's what's at stake here. Gabriel can walk away from Widow's Peak tonight alive and free, or he can leave in a body bag. The choice is entirely up to you."
My heart pounds so hard I can barely hear over it. "What do you want me to do?"
"Good. You understand the situation." There's approval in his tone that makes my stomach turn.
"Here's what's going to happen. Gabriel has information I need—specifically, the location of certain files he stole from my organization.
Files that could cause problems if they fell into the wrong hands. "
"He doesn't remember. He has amnesia...”
"Oh, I'm aware. Convenient, isn't it?" His tone sharpens. "But memory is a tricky thing, Ms. Bennett. Sometimes it takes the right motivation to bring things back to the surface."
Ice runs down my spine. "You want me to make him remember."
"I want you to encourage him to try. Really try. Because if he doesn't remember where those files are within the next seventy-two hours, a lot of people are going to die. Starting with everyone in that charming little town of yours."
"You're bluffing."
"Am I?" He sounds almost amused. "I have a small strike force within a two-hour drive of Glacier Hollow.
I have satellite surveillance on every structure in your town.
I know Sheriff MacAllister is organizing watch rotations.
I know Nate Barrett has tactical experience.
I even know that Mrs. Lancaster on the eastern trail has her husband's hunting rifle. "
My blood runs cold. He's been watching. Everything.
"I could level your town in less than an hour," Crane continues. "Gas line explosion. Wildfire. Take your pick. Federal investigators would find nothing but accidents and bad luck."
"Why?" My voice comes out as a whisper. "Why go to all this trouble for some files?"
"Because those files contain evidence of things that would make me and several very powerful people uncomfortable. And because Gabriel made this personal when he decided to betray the unit that trained him, protected him, gave his life meaning."
"You're insane."
"No, Ms. Bennett. I'm pragmatic." His voice hardens. "You have seventy-two hours to help Gabriel remember where he hid those files. If you succeed, everyone lives. If you fail..." He lets the silence speak for itself. "I'll be in touch."
The line goes dead.
Phone still pressed to my ear, trying to process what just happened. Seventy-two hours to make Gabe remember something that might get us all killed. Zara is staring at me, her face pale.
"Tell me you recorded that," I say.
"Every word." She's already calling someone. "We need Zeke. Now."
While she talks to the sheriff, I move back to the window. Full dark now, the mountain just a looming shadow against the sky. Somewhere up there, Gabe is facing the man who just threatened to destroy everything we've built.
My phone buzzes again. This time it's a text from an unknown number. Just a photograph.
It's me. Taken through the lodge window. I'm visible in perfect clarity, standing exactly where I am right now.
The message below is simple:
We're always watching.
I step back from the window fast, heart hammering. Zara sees my face and ends her call.
"What is it?"
The phone shakes in my hand as I show her. She goes white.
"They're out there right now. Watching us."
"Close the curtains," I say. "All of them. And kill the lights."
We move through the lodge in darkness, closing every curtain, checking every lock. My skin prickles. They're watching right now. How long have they been out there? What else have they seen?
When we're done, we huddle in the central room by the fireplace—the only room with no exterior windows. Zara has her gun and the shotgun beside her. I have the rifle. And we wait.
"How long has it been?" Zara asks after what feels like hours.
I check my phone. "Forty-five minutes."
He's been gone almost an hour. If the climb took thirty minutes, that means he's been up there with them for—
"An hour and fifteen minutes until we call Zeke to let him know that Gabe has either returned or not," I say, cutting off the thought. "An hour and fifteen minutes."
"He's going to be okay," Zara says, but she doesn't sound convinced.
Can't answer. Don't know how to answer. Because the truth is, I have no idea if he's going to be okay. All I know is that somewhere up on that mountain, the man I love is facing a choice between his own survival and mine.
And knowing Gabe, I'm terrified of which one he'll choose.
The fire crackles. The wind howls around the eaves. And we wait in the darkness, two women with guns and hope, preparing for a siege that might already be lost.
My hand finds the compass pendant at my throat. Find your way home, my grandmother's inscription reads. Love, Gran.
"Come home," I whisper into the darkness. "Please, Gabe. Just come home."
My phone screen lights up. Another text from the unknown number.
Just two words:
He's talking.