Chapter 7
7
Amazing how trouble could spark any time. Anywhere.
Fenn tugged off the thick mitten that passed for outerwear out here in polar bear central and slipped his hand inside his parka, pulling out his side arm. Good thing Graham had warned him to wear thin aviator gloves beneath the ungainly mitts.
Suddenly, the hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention. He strained to hear over the deafening silence. Kate was right. Someone was out there.
He was sick of it all. The constant dark, the frigid cold, and most of all, playing the mild-mannered sidekick. He yanked the fur-lined hood of his parka tighter against the biting chill that had already turned his jaw to ice.
The faint glow of the settlement's exterior bulbs did little to pierce the darkness. Clouds obscured the stars, adding to the suffocating blackness. At least the wind had died. The eerie quiet set his teeth on edge, but it had allowed Kate to notice something behind them.
He leaned into her, his voice low. "You got your Sig?"
She nodded, hand already reaching for the concealed weapon.
The hotel was at the end of the block. They could easily make it. But then they'd be passing up a prime opportunity to grab a potential interviewee.
"We should split up," he said, locking eyes with her. "Circle back and trap them between us."
She hesitated for a beat, then nodded, jaw set. "Be careful," she murmured, her hand brushing his arm.
Even through the sleeping-bag thickness of his parka, Fenn felt a jolt at her touch, but pushed it aside. No time for distractions, no matter how tempting.
He headed back toward the tavern and slipped between the buildings, sticking to the shadows, his footsteps light on the frozen ground. The crunch of his boots was the only sound in the stillness. Snow began to fall, the flakes thin and sparse, so far. More ice crystals than the kind of snow that fell in the Eastern Sierra.
His mind whirled as he moved, senses on high alert. Who was following them? Why? Was it connected to the note Kate had received, or something else entirely?
He thought back to the four goons in the tavern, with their sneering faces and tough-guy acts. Could they be behind this? Or was it someone else, someone they hadn't even considered?
Fenn shook his head, forcing himself to focus. He couldn't afford to get lost in speculation, not with Kate's safety on the line.
He reached the end of the block, scanning the darkness for any sign of movement. But there was nothing, just an endless expanse of snow and ice.
And then, he heard it. The roar of a snowmobile engine coming to life.
Fenn's heart seized, his eyes widening. He spun around, gaze locking on Kate at the end of the next block.
"Kate!" he yelled, his voice carried away by the wind. "Look out!"
But it was too late. The snowmobile picked up speed, its headlights cutting through the darkness like a knife.
Time slowed as Fenn watched in horror, his feet pounding against the frozen ground as he raced towards her, desperate to reach her before it was too late. His heart hammering, his lungs burning with the icy air as he pushed himself to the limit.
Just as the snowmobile was about to make impact, he lunged forward, tackling her out of the way. They tumbled to the ground in a tangle of limbs, the snowmobile missing them by mere inches as it roared past. The driver hit the throttle, making the machine veer across the road. Breaking hard, the driver swung it back to the center of the street, but not before the machine plowed into a thigh-high bank of snow.
Tail lights disappeared around the first corner, the rev of the engine fading quickly.
For a moment, they lay there, gasping for breath, their hearts pounding in unison. Fenn's arms were wrapped tightly around her, his body shielding hers from the cold and any further danger.
Thank you, Jesus . He lifted a prayer.
As they caught their breath, he couldn't help but smirk. "You know, if you wanted to get close, all you had to do was ask."
She punched him, hard, her reply muffled by his chest.