Chapter 8
8
Chance
M uch like a good dream, this was bound to come to an end.
We’re all feeling it. On a level, Anya must be feeling it, too. The return to the real world. It’s been incredible being up here on the mountain, away from everything—just us and this angel, reunited after so much pain and suffering.
“Where is she?” I ask Booker as he walks into the kitchen.
“Sound asleep,” he says.
With almost mechanical movements, he pours himself a cup of coffee and joins me at the breakfast table, where an early morning feast awaits: maple-glazed bacon, scrambled eggs, plenty of cheese and toast—these are part of the last batch from our fridge and pantry. Whether we like it or not, we have to go into town for supplies.
“And Nico?”
“Outside getting the truck ready,” I say. “We should be able to reach the main road into town by nightfall.”
“Am I a dick if I don’t want us rushing to get there?”
I give Booker an amused glance. “I thought you were the most righteous among us.”
“Well, I’m also conflicted,” he sighs, adding some eggs and bacon to his plate. He doesn’t seem to have much of an appetite, choosing to nurse his black coffee instead. “She needs to see a doctor, and she needs to know the truth.”
“Booker, we don’t know the whole truth,” I remind him. “And I need a computer tech from the sheriff’s department to help me scrub that USB drive. I tried everything with our equipment, but there’s not much I can do from here.”
“Anya still doesn’t know about the drive, does she?”
I shake my head. “We agreed to keep quiet on the matter. I kept quiet.”
“So did we. There’s no point in riling her up about something she doesn’t fully remember, and if the doc is right and we force the memory recovery process, we could do more damage than good,” Booker sighs. “Dammit, I don’t want to go back into town.”
“Neither do I. But we must. We’re low on supplies, too.”
He frowns and adds a few pieces of cheese, which he also moves around the plate with his fork, barely eating any. “This could’ve been a fresh start for Anya.”
“It’s not. I think it was more of a fresh start for us.”
Nico joins us in the kitchen, his cheeks and the tip of his nose red from the cold. “We’re going to have a frost on our hands again,” he warns. “I definitely need to get to town and stock up on gas for the backup generator, among other things.” He pauses, noticing the glum look on our brother’s face. “Still miffed about it, huh?”
“I’m not the only one,” Booker mutters.
“It has to be done,” Nico says. “We keep her safe until we know what we’re dealing with.” He points to a small tin box on the kitchen counter next to the coffee machine. “Grab that. We’re going to need it for Sheriff Mills.”
I reach over and take the box, then shake it once. I recognize the sound all too well. “The slugs from Anya’s car.”
“We need forensics on this,” Nico replies. “And Anya needs a doctor before we push for her to remember. The more we learn, the better prepared we’ll be.”
It doesn’t take long for Booker to regain his motivation surrounding the truth-seeking part of this mission. He nods slowly, staring at his coffee. “If Anya was coming up here to deliver that USB drive, and somebody wanted to kill her before she reached us, then they’re probably still out there.”
“We’ll need to keep an eye out. The guy drove off when he saw us coming that night. Chances are he’s on his own. If he’s still in town, he’ll probably look for a weakness, a crack to slip through. We won’t give him that opportunity,” Nico replies. “And I strongly believe we should get Mills involved.”
“I’m not sure I like the sound of that. He can just run the slugs through ballistics as a favor to us. We’re friends; it should be enough,” I say.
But Nico shakes his head. “Mills can help us. We can’t fight the fucking Bratva on our own. If they’re coming for Anya, we’re going to need all the help we can get. Mills isn’t just sheriff, remember? He’s got his own people, good men and women, sworn to different but equally righteous oaths.”
“Nico has a point. We do need all the help we can get,” Booker concedes.
“I’m confused,” I shoot back. “One minute, you’re all about getting to the truth. The next, you’re pushing to keep Anya up here for a while longer, and now, you’re fine with getting the cops involved.”
“It’s a process.” Booker chuckles dryly. “I’m working through it. The objective is the same, though.”
“Keeping Anya safe.” Nico agrees with a slight nod.
I can’t fight them on any of this, mainly because they’re both right. It doesn’t change how I feel about it, though. I came back to life the minute I realized Anya was still alive. There’s not a chance in hell I’m letting anybody take her away from me.
* * *
The next morning, Nico and I head down the mountain, while Booker stays with Anya. With the roads more or less cleared, there’s the risk that whoever came after her might try again.
It’s still a pain to drive these country roads, but we reach Flo’s Diner in one piece. Nico drops me off. I’ll meet with Sheriff Mills, while he takes care of the supply run.
“I’ll pick you up when you’re ready,” he tells me just as I’m about to shut the passenger door. “You’ve got the slugs, right?”
“And the USB drive,” I reply, patting the bag on my shoulder.
“We should be able to get cell reception soon, too.”
That doesn’t excite me as much, mainly because I know Anya will try to reach out to Aleks as soon as the cell tower is back up. I give my brother a nod and go into the diner, but not before I glance up and down Main Street.
It’s quiet. Cars drive by slowly, as the entire district comes out of two weeks of hibernation.
“Chance!” Marie, one of the waitresses, says as soon as I step through the door. “We weren’t sure when we’d see you again with this blizzard! How are you and your brothers?”
“We made it,” I reply with a broad smile.
“You keep surprising us,” Marie giggles. “Big-city boys turned big mountain men.”
“We’ve adapted quite nicely,” I say and take a seat at the counter. “How are we doing on coffee this morning?”
Marie gives me a wink. “Saved you some of my Colombian roast, you know, in case you survived the snow.”
The fine smell titillates my olfactory senses, but my eyes stay sharp and cautious. “Have you seen Sheriff Mills?
“Not yet, but he did call ahead for a Rugged Breakfast to go, and the kitchen is just about ready with it,” she says and brings my coffee over. “Here you go.”
“Thank you,” I reply and drop a bill on the counter. “Throw in a bear claw and keep the change, please.”
“Loading up on carbs, huh?”
I give her a wry smile. “There’s only so much pantry mac and cheese I can stomach in the course of two weeks, Marie.”
While Marie scoops a bear claw out of the pastry display box for me, I look around again, carefully analyzing every person. I recognize most of our neighbors, good folks who generally keep to themselves, lumberjacks and factory workers who commute out of the district, tour guides, and rangers. Seeley Lake may be small, but it’s bustling.
But one chair over at the counter, there’s a guy I don’t recognize. He’s dark-haired, clean-shaven, and handsome, with cold blue eyes and pale skin. He’s a little too well dressed for Seeley Lake, though. Definitely an out-of-towner.
“I’ll bet you don’t get this kind of fairy-tale winter in New York City,” Breonna says, sitting next to this guy, full-on giggles and charm on display. “But you did make me curious about Madison Square Garden in December, Max. I’ll be sure to give that a try next winter.”
“I’d love to be your tour guide,” the man whose name I now know is Max replies with a sly grin. “Hell, I’d show you around the whole city, if you’ll let me. A beautiful woman like you shouldn’t be wandering the streets of New York alone.”
“My, oh my. Handsome and protective,” Breonna says. “You sound like the full package.”
“I try,” Max says and chuckles softly, then glances my way. “Nice weather, eh?”
I give him a nod but keep a straight face. At the same time, Marie leaves my bear claw on a plate, practically under my nose. “Let me guess, you got stuck here,” I say to Max, then give Marie a thankful nod.
“And then some,” Max says, sighing deeply. He shows me his phone. “Luckily, the staff here have been kind enough to let me use their landline because the cell tower is still down.”
“We’re all dealing with the same frustration,” I say.
Breonna lights up as she gets up and comes over to my side, hips sashaying ostentatiously under her long turquoise sweater dress. “Oh, it’s so good to see you made it down the mountain, Chase!”
“In all fairness, my brothers and I are the reason you made it down the mountain.”
“And I am more than happy to thank you for it, however you see fit.” She gives me a playful wink that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I doubt she’s aware of how little I like her, or perhaps she’s just living in a constant state of delusion.
“No need to thank us in any way,” I reply with a flat smile.
But Breonna still feels the need to put her hand on my shoulder. “Now, now, don’t be silly. How about I bake you boys one of my famous pecan pies?”
“Ah, you’re a baking queen, too?” Max chimes in, a twinkle of jealousy nestled in his eyes as he looks at us.
I wish I could tell him he can have Breonna all to himself, but I promised Nico I’d behave—out of respect for him, not her. She knows what she did. She’s just lucky Nico chose to be civil and forgive her. I haven’t.
“How is Anya, by the way?” Breonna asks. She sounds genuinely concerned, which sort of confuses me. But it’s the curious gaze that Max gives me that piques my interest. “She’s fine, thanks. So, Max, what brought you all the way out here to Seeley Lake?”
“I’m a pharma rep,” Max replies. “Hence the fancy suit and zero bad weather prep,” he adds with a nervous chuckle. “I was tasked with signing some new deals with every Walgreens in the district, but then the blizzard hit, and I’ve been stuck here since. I doubt I still have a job at this point.”
“News of the blizzard must’ve made the nationwide networks by now,” I say.
“It’s the biggest one we’ve had in years in Montana,” Breonna adds with an enthusiastic nod. “You’ll be alright, Max. I’m sure of it.”
“That pecan pie you mentioned,” he says angling for Breonna’s attention, “it’s got me craving. What does a city slicker like me have to do to get a slice of that?”
“Oh, now… I wouldn’t ask for anything in return,” Breonna says, blushing and lowering her gaze.
“Of course you wouldn’t,” I can’t help but mutter, drawing a glare from her, but she doesn’t act on it. She heard me. She caught the jab, for sure. Instead, Breonna puts on her fake smile.
“So, you said Anya’s doing well?”
“Yes.”
“I’d love to have her over for a hot chocolate before you bring her into town,” she says, and I look past her shoulder at Max.
He’s trying to make a call from his cell phone again, cursing under his breath when the connection fails. “Fucking cell tower…”
“I didn’t say we’re bringing her into town,” I tell Breonna.
She frowns, looking rather confused. “What do you mean? She’s living with you, now?”
“You sound upset,” I shoot back, then get up as soon as I hear the bell above the front door chime, followed by a familiar thudding of heavy-duty snow boots. “Sheriff Mills!”
I leave Breonna’s question unanswered and steal another glance at this Max dude before I shift my focus to the sheriff. He’s a tall man with long, black hair caught in a sleek ponytail. He’s half my size but a fierce fighter, nonetheless, a former Army Ranger and one of the best his unit had ever seen.
“Chance Hayes,” Sheriff Mills says, giving me a curious look. “Good to see you again, brother.”
“I wish it were under better circumstances,” I reply. “It’s a good thing I know where you like to eat,” I add, showing him my phone. “You know we don’t have a landline back at the lodge. Otherwise, I would’ve called ahead.”
“No, it’s all good. That damn blizzard wasn’t gonna keep me away from my Rugged Breakfast for too long,” Mills says and gives Marie a polite nod as she comes out of the kitchen with a brown bag for him.
The smell of bacon and Gorgonzola cheese hits me in the solar plexus, making my mouth water. I’m starting to regret settling for just a bear claw. “It smells incredible,” I sigh deeply.
“Happy to share, if you’ll join me back at the station.”
“I’ll join you at the station, but not for breakfast.”
He raises an eyebrow, the fine lines around his black eyes remind me that he’s got ten years on me, ten years of reading people and identifying trouble from miles away. Close to his mid-forties, Sheriff Mills has been the backbone of this community since the day he was elected, doing his job honorably and fairly. What I like most about this guy is that he takes good care of the First Nations people, too.
“What’s going on?” Mills asks.
“Not here,” I reply in a low voice.
“Station it is then.”
I give Marie one last nod, then notice Breonna has reclaimed her seat next to Max before I follow the sheriff out of the diner.
As much as I hate to admit it, we do need help. We need to know what’s been happening in New York. I also need to know who that Max guy really is. He could be a pharma sales rep, like he says, but the paranoid side of me needs more evidence to confirm that.