Chapter 6

6

Kate pushed her plate away, the remnants of her meal growing cold as she scanned the crowded tavern. The knot of tension between her shoulder blades refused to ease, despite the warmth of the room and the laughter that filled the air. She needed to move, to do something, anything to keep her mind from dwelling on the note and the implications it held.

Her gaze landed on the pool table in the far corner, the green felt illuminated by a low-hanging lamp. "Come on," she said, nudging Fenn with her elbow. "Let's play."

Fenn glanced at the table, then back at her, a slow grin spreading across his face. "You sure about that? I don't want to embarrass you in front of all these fine folks."

She snorted, already rising from her seat. "Please. I could beat you with my eyes closed."

"Care to make a wager on that?" Fenn waggled his eyebrows, his smile turning mischievous.

She laughed, shaking her head. "Not a chance. I know better than to bet against a hustler."

They made their way to the table, the alternative of returning to their cramped, soulless rooms making her shudder. She needed this, needed the distraction and the company, even if it was just for a little while.

As Fenn racked the balls, she chalked her cue, the familiar motions soothing in their repetition.

He pulled the wooden triangle off the balls and set it aside. "I'm going to need details about this mission. Whoever left the note's obviously connected to it somehow, whether directly or not. It's the only place to start."

Kate's hand stilled, her grip tightening on the cue. "Not gonna happen. I can't. Plus, I don't know as much as you think."

He frowned, his brow furrowing. "Why not?"

She sighed, feeling the weight of the past bearing down on her. "The mission was too complicated. I was never aware of all the players involved. The writer could be connected to the handful of players I was aware of…but most likely not."

"There's no other way to dig into this," Fenn insisted, his voice low but urgent.

This was the time to double down. One sign of weakness and Fenn would keep at her until she caved. She met his gaze with a determined look of her own. "The best thing to do is figure out who left the note and trace things back from there."

Fenn held her gaze for a long moment, his jaw clenching with frustration. But finally, he nodded, his shoulders slumping in resignation. "Fine. We'll do it your way. For now."

"We could start by questioning the staff at the hotel," Fenn suggested, watching as she broke the formation, sending the balls scattering across the felt. "Maybe someone saw something."

"Or maybe whoever left it is an employee." Kate straightened, her mind racing with the possibilities.

Fenn nodded, moving to take his shot. "In which case, I'm confident I'll be able to tell. I've got a nose for liars."

Kate watched as he sank two balls in quick succession, her eyebrows rising in grudging admiration. "Looks like you've got a nose for pool, too."

He winked, a patented expression that never failed to make her stomach flutter. "I'm a man of many talents."

They continued their game, the easy banter flowing between them as they traded shots and theories. But as the minutes ticked by, it became increasingly clear that Fenn was utterly dominating the table.

"How are you doing this?" she demanded, watching as he sank yet another impossible shot. "Are you cheating?"

He raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Cheating? I prefer to think of it as creative problem-solving."

She opened her mouth to retort, but before she could utter a word, a gruff voice cut through the din of the tavern. "You two stick out like a couple sore thumbs."

She turned, her gaze falling on three men who had materialized at their table. They were built like linebackers, with faces that looked like they'd been carved from the rugged landscape outside.

A fourth guy, bigger still, stood off to the side, glowering beneath a greasy beanie. Hard to make out his expression behind the outsized black beard hanging down to his chest. If it came to it, he'd be trouble.

The one in the middle, a man with a salt-and-pepper beard and a jagged scar that ran from his left eyebrow to his jawline, fixed Fenn with a look that could have frozen a lesser man in his tracks.

Fenn, however, seemed unfazed, his posture relaxed but alert, like a coiled spring ready to unwind at a moment's notice. "We must have missed the memo about the dress code," he quipped, his tone light but his eyes never leaving the leader's face.

The man's lip curled, his gaze flicking between the two of them with a mixture of disdain and suspicion. "We don't much like outsiders."

Kate's fingers twitched, itching to reach for the knife she kept concealed in her boot. But she forced herself to remain still, to keep her expression neutral. "We're not here to cause any trouble," she said evenly, holding the man's gaze. "Just passing through."

The man snorted, a harsh, humorless sound. "Not quick enough."

Fenn leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table, his eyes glinting with a challenge. "Well, I guess we'll have to work on our cardio. But in the meantime, how about we settle this like gentlemen? Loser buys the next round. I'm a root beer guy myself, so it won't cost you too much."

Kate shot him a warning look, but the damage was done. The man's face darkened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "You think you're funny, dude? Let's see how well you joke with a few less teeth in your head."

The tension in the air was palpable, the other patrons of the tavern falling silent as they watched the confrontation unfold. The first three looked ready for a fight, but at least the big man in the back had stayed put. Watching, but not gearing up to jump in. Kate could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins, her mind racing as she calculated the best way to defuse the situation before it escalated into violence.

But Fenn, as always, had a different approach in mind.

"Saw you saying your little prayer before eating. You some kind of religious nut or something?"

Fenn straightened, his posture relaxed but alert. "Just giving thanks for the meal, friend."

The man scoffed, his lip curling in disgust. "Friend? Not likely."

Kate stepped forward, her hand tightening around her pool cue. "Is there a problem here?"

The leader's eyes raked over her, a lecherous grin spreading across his face. "Well, looky here. Fresh meat in town. And ain't she a pretty one?"

Fenn moved to stand beside her, his shoulder brushing against hers. "Nice," he muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I know you can handle yourself, but how about we ignore them?" he advised, his voice low. "We don't need the trouble."

He was right. She could take these men down without breaking a sweat, but causing a scene would only draw unwanted attention. She forced herself to take a deep breath, to unclench her fists and relax her stance.

But then, just as they were turning back to their game, one of the men stuck out his foot, sending Fenn tumbling backwards. He hit the ground hard, the breath whooshing out of his lungs.

Kate saw red.

She lunged at the man, her fist connecting with his jaw with a satisfying crack. He stumbled back, his eyes wide with shock and fury.

But before she could press her advantage, Fenn was there, his arms wrapping around her waist and hauling her back. "Whoa there, tiger," he murmured, his breath hot against her ear. "Let's not start World War III over a little trip."

He turned to the goon, his hands held up in a placating gesture. "Hey, no harm done. Let's just chalk it up to a misunderstanding and call it a night, okay?"

The man glared at them, his fists clenched at his sides.

Moving fast for a big man, the bartender slipped between them. "Ease back now, Barnsdale. If I remember right, this is the only bar in the territory where you're still welcome."

For a moment, Kate thought Barnsdale was going to shove the bartender aside and take a swing at Fenn. But then, with a muttered curse, he turned and stalked away, his friends trailing behind him.

Kate watched them leave, her heart pounding in her chest. "We should go."

"And rendezvous with those goons outside? I don't think so." Wincing, Fenn grabbed his pool cue. "Besides, we're not done with our game."

Not quite. But the way Fenn played, he'd run the table on this shot. Or his next. She'd be happy to keep the cue ball on the table.

Fenn bent over the table, turning to gift her with one of his magnificent grins and a cute wink. "Watch and learn, woman."

He aimed the cue ball at a cluster of balls, scattering them across the table. Once the clacking died down, he'd sunk his intended target. The rest followed in breathtaking succession.

No wonder he excelled at billiards. The game was fast, required excellent eye-hand coordination, and a highly strategic mind. Some of Fenn's best qualities.

His master class complete, they gathered their coats, heading for the door. Once outside in the biting cold, they both turned automatically toward the hotel, their bodies having memorized the block-long hike days ago. Kate pulled her scarf up to her eyes, concentrating on sucking in air through her nose. It felt like breathing through a straw, but better than freezing her lungs with air so cold it could freeze boiling water.

Between the squeak of her boots on the ice, her loud breaths and the hood muffling her ears, she was surprised she heard the sound. Faint, and nothing she could identify, but odd enough in that barren landscape that it made her stop.

She gripped Fenn's arm.

"What is it?" he asked, his voice low and urgent.

She yanked her hood off her head, her ears straining against the silence. "Someone's following us."