Powerhouse. Rebecca York
feel Shelley willing him to find something—anything—that would help them.
A FEW HUNDRED FEET from the ranch road, in a patch of snow-covered pine trees, Bobby Savage and Don Campbell sat in a darkened sedan. Savage was blond with blue eyes. Campbell was dark.
Savage had a scar on his lip from an old knife fight. Campbell had a broken nose. He was a big guy with broad shoulders. Savage was smaller and quicker. But external appearances aside, they were very much alike. Either of them could kill a person as easily as they could run over a cat crossing the road.
They’d once enjoyed plenty of contract work in the New York/New Jersey area, doing whatever they were asked as long as the job paid well. Intimidation and murder were their specialties.
But after a job where they’d left some unfortunate evidence, the east coast had become a little hot for them. Since neither of them had enough money to retire comfortably, they’d accepted a gig out of Denver. After completing that assignment successfully, more jobs had rolled their way. The former city boys had adapted to working in the wide-open spaces of the west.
Too bad it was cold as a witch’s lips out here.
“Turn up the heat again,” Campbell said.
Savage reached for the control and cranked up the blower. As warm air flooded the car, Campbell sighed.
“This is a bitch of an assignment.”
“The pay is good.”
“But I don’t like the way we’re communicating with the guy who hired us.”
“Advanced technology.” Savage pulled out his BlackBerry and looked at the screen. There was nothing new. There had been nothing new for the past few hours.
“Does he think we’re going to sit here all night?”
“I expect so.”
Savage reached into the back seat and retrieved the bag of food they’d picked up at a fast-food restaurant in Yuma. Turning on a small flashlight, he directed the beam into the bag, then pulled out a wrapped hamburger that had gone cold hours ago. With a grimace he set it on his lap, then reached for the thermos of coffee that he’d stuffed into the door pocket.
“You’re gonna have to get out and pee,” Campbell cautioned, the idea of unzipping his fly in this weather making him shiver.
His partner gave him a knowing look. “Yeah. And eventually so will you—if we’re gonna be here all night.”
Savage craned his neck toward the ranch road. “I say they’re not going anywhere until at least the morning.”
“And your point is?”
“We could get a room in that town we passed and come back in the morning.”
“You want to take a chance on losing them?”
Savage considered the question. He didn’t know much about the man who had hired them, but he suspected that failure would be bad for their health.
With a sigh, he settled down in his seat for a long night in the cold.
BESIDE Matt, Shelley made a low sound. “This isn’t doing any good.”
He glanced over at her and saw that her hands were clasped tightly in her lap. It looked as though she was trying desperately to hold herself together, and he didn’t blame her.
“Give me a little more time,” he muttered.
“Okay.”
Shelley leaned back and closed her eyes, and he knew she must be exhausted. She’d left Boulder early, then gotten caught in the storm, then come staggering up the road in snow up to her knees. He wanted to reach out and wrap her in his arms, but the rigid line of her jaw told him she didn’t want comfort. She wanted results, although she didn’t need to sit here while he tried to get them.
“Do you want to go to bed?”
Her eyes snapped open again. “No! I want to stay here in case you find something.”
He didn’t try to send her away again, because he knew that as long as he was sitting here, she was going to stay. She’d come to him for help, and he’d thought he could at least give them a start on the Web. He’d gone down a long list of sites, but he was losing faith in his ability to find anything. At least on this particular topic.
Still, he wasn’t going to give up. Not while Shelley was sitting next to him, counting on him.
The Google entries were getting repetitive. He’d seen a lot of them before, but as he scrolled down, he spotted a new one that looked interesting. It wasn’t from any organization. Instead it belonged to a man named Jack Maddox who was trying to find his missing brother, Jared.
Could this be the break he’d been looking for?
Matt clicked on the URL and waited with a sense of anticipation while the site loaded. Scrolling down, he saw something that made him gasp—a picture of an eight-pointed star.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.