Chapter 15 #2
When they stepped inside, the interior smelled of coffee, which made his mouth water.
Nothing fancy in terms of layout, a living space with a worn burgundy-colored couch that had seen better days.
The kitchen had no stove, but a small propane burner and a blue ice chest sat atop the narrow counter.
He found a minuscule bathroom with a composting toilet, no shower.
Behind a folding screen was a bed, neatly made, covered by a chenille spread.
There was no bedside table to prowl through that might give him a clue about whether Cordelia fit into the friends or enemies camp.
He hadn’t the strength to investigate further anyway.
Mackenzie forced him into a chair. In the common space near the lumpy sofa, he’d seen a small side table with a drawer.
He intended to rest for just a moment and then, as soon he could get up, he’d rifle through it, but Cordelia entered before he made his move.
She pulled off her boots and dropped them on a mat just inside the door.
Immediately she closed the curtains over the front windows and activated two small lanterns, one on the coffee table and the other in the kitchen.
“Do you have any supplies? First aid? Gideon was grazed by a bullet, and I used up most of his already,” Mackenzie said.
Cordelia’s brows arched, but she produced a small pouch from her pack. Mackenzie took it and set about rebandaging his wound. Fortunately, his pain threshold had already been breached so he hardly felt it. Now that he was off the horse, his body would rally. Hopefully.
A blue flame sprang to life as Cordelia switched on the propane burner and filled a pot with water from a bottle.
“Coffee in a minute,” she said.
The word coffee sparked a fierce craving. He forced himself to sit straighter. “First things first. Who are you? Really?”
“The same person you met before. Cordelia Bellamy. I own the stables, remember?”
He paused. “Let me backtrack. How did you know where to find us?”
“I have a friend at the airstrip. He gave me some intel.”
The airstrip? Why did that location factor so prominently in their lives? He exchanged a look with Mackenzie. “What friend? And how did he know where we were?”
“He’s a helicopter pilot.” She adjusted the pot on the burner.
Gideon folded his arms. “Look. If we have to do this question by question, it’s gonna take forever and I’m not in the mood. How about you cut to the chase. How’d you find us and what’s your stake in all this?”
Cordelia cocked her head and gave him full eye contact.
She spoke slowly as if he were dim-witted.
“Al and Jerry messaged my pilot friend about your escape from the boathouse and told him to prepare the helicopter for another search. Before he launched, he texted me and told me the area he was heading for. I took some shortcuts because I was on horseback, but even with that I barely made it.” She dumped spoonfuls of instant coffee into three porcelain mugs. “You like it strong?”
He ignored the question. “Your pilot friend who is helping the people who want to kill us?”
“Yes.”
They were back to one-word answers. Best to unload the big one. “Why, Cordelia? Why would either of you stick your neck out for us?”
Her dark hair shone in the lantern light as she regarded him. “I get an interrogation instead of a thank-you? You’re alive, right? You could try being grateful for that. I don’t have to explain right now, do I?”
“Yes, you do.”
Mackenzie nodded her agreement. “We have been hunted, Cordelia, and I’ve no doubt there’s a hefty price on our heads. Good reasons for us not to trust you.”
Cordelia’s eyes were smudged with fatigue, her ponytail messy, and her clothes disheveled, as if they’d been worn over consecutive days. Her exhaustion reminded him of his own, but he wasn’t going to budge until he understood her motives.
She heaved out a breath. “I’ve been trying like crazy since the stables to find you. I heard a report that you’d been knocked off the road by a mudslide.”
Mackenzie raised a brow, and they exchanged a look. “A report from whom?”
“That’s not important.”
His remaining patience frayed. “Knock it off, Cordelia. I’m tired, hungry, cold, and bashed up. I got no more patience for talking in circles.”
Cordelia took two bottles of water from the ice chest and set them on the table. As much as his thirst clamored to be slaked, he made no move to take one. He glowered at her, arms still folded across his chest.
After an extended silence, she seemed to come to a decision. “Kevin contacted me after he got free of your duct tape and he could get a text to send. He said you’d tied him up and gone for your Jeep.”
Kevin and Cordelia were allies. He’d been right to suspect them.
Had he and Mackenzie played right into enemy hands by following Cordelia to her hidden cabin?
Two against one at the moment, and he had a gun.
They could overpower her and escape, if he could get his limbs to cooperate.
A few more minutes to keep her talking . . .
“With his information, I tracked you as far as the landslide,” Cordelia continued, “and I’ve been desperately looking for you since then.
There are only a few passable roads at this point, and even fewer of them would take you in the direction of the airstrip—which Kevin said was your goal.
” She paused. “Why are you headed there? Looking to get a flight out?”
Gideon lifted his chin, which hurt, but he did it anyway. “Answer the question, then we’ll fill in our details.”
She watched them for a few seconds before she went on. “Okay. I see the flow of information only goes in one direction. I’ve been driving back and forth for the past two days, beating the bushes to find you. No success until the tip-off from my pilot friend just now.”
“But how’d you know about the landslide? We left Kevin near the river.”
“When Kevin freed himself eventually . . .” She laughed.
“That would have been funny to watch. He traced your route as far as that point. He got one more message through to me before he stopped communicating. I don’t know what’s happened to him.
If he was smart, he left town, but maybe his phone died or .
. .” A shadow crossed her face. “I’m not sure. ”
Gideon’s rib cage sparked with pain. He gripped the table and gave her no way to evade the question. “Why are you and Kevin working together? He was after us because of threats to his family, or so he says. What’s your motivation?”
Her lips thinned into a grim smile and her chin went up. “Kevin helped me because he hopes I’m going to stick it to his boss.”
Mackenzie jerked. “His boss?”
Her gaze found Mackenzie’s. “On your podcast, you call him Bullseye.”
The name seemed to suck all the air out of the room. She knew about Bullseye and the podcast? He was momentarily unable to rally another question, but Mackenzie wasn’t.
“What do you know about Bullseye?” she demanded.
“More than I care to, but the point is I’m aware he wants you two dead and I’ve been trying to prevent that.”
Prevent their deaths? Not looking to collect on a bounty? Alarm bells were clanging so loud they almost deafened him. “Hard to believe. To defy him means risking your life. What’s in it for you?”
She looked at the counter, wiped at a scratch on the Formica. “I want to wreck his plans.”
“Why?”
“He’s a bad man.” She stared at Mackenzie.
“You know that better than anyone. All your talk on the podcast about bringing him to justice?” Cordelia paused a moment.
“You’re right about him. He’s a killer, and I’m going to get you out alive so you can continue to harass him and maybe even send him to prison. ”
Gideon held up a hand. “Listen, that sounds very grand and altruistic, but maybe this is all a ruse and you’re actually looking to get a payout from Bullseye for taking us down. There’s gotta be an extra reward for beating Al and Jerry to the finish line.”
Her mouth tightened. “I don’t want a nickel from that man, and if my actions make things harder for Al and Jerry, so much the better.
They never should have trespassed at my stables.
They declared war between us when they brought guns around my horses.
My stable, those horses, are an inheritance from my mother. ”
The silence was broken only by the bubbling of the kettle. Wordlessly, she poured the steaming water into the three mugs.
Gideon knew his doubt was probably written all over his face. “You want us to believe you’re working against Bullseye out of some vague notion of making the world a better place?”
“Believe what you want.” Hatred shone in her coal-dark eyes. “He’s determined to see you dead, you’ve got to acknowledge the truth of that. It’s why I’ve put my life on hold to protect you.”
Mackenzie was staring at Cordelia. “You’re not telling us everything.”
She smacked a palm on the counter. “Don’t you get it? Everything around here is falling apart. You have to get out. There are too many people in this town on the payroll, and that dam isn’t going to hold.”
“We were trying to get away when the helicopter spotted us,” Gideon said.
“You’ve got to trust me now. You two are half dead as it is. You’ll never escape without my help.”
Three days ago, he wouldn’t have agreed.
Now it was more than likely the truth. They’d come to the most difficult part of the whole survival, evasion, resistance, and escape conundrum.
Whom to trust? The environment might be hostile, but it was nowhere near as dangerous as a human enemy, the kind pretending to be a friend.
If his pain would just let up a minute and allow him to think clearly.
Cordelia thrust the mugs of coffee at them. He accepted. Maybe the hot brew would sharpen his senses. Mackenzie handed him a few ibuprofen, which he gratefully accepted.