Chapter 20

K ara had promised the cabin was remote. Uncle Phil certainly believed in being alone.

Deep in the woods, the cabin was nine miles from town, but could be accessed by a long, narrow road with twists and turns through the mountains. He followed the instructions he'd memorized because the phone GPS didn't work in the mountains, and came to a dirt road leading to a wide, open field with three sturdy cabins. He rode to the middle cabin, a wood structure nestled against a flowing creek and a thicket of tall trees. He parked in the gravel space by the cabin and stopped her from getting off. An older model green pickup truck sat in the parking space by the cabin.

"That's Phil's truck. He leaves it here for hunting trips. Keys are inside."

"Wait here until I check things out," he instructed.

After using the combination Phil texted, he opened the door and inspected the cabin. Clean, perhaps a little musty. Basic furniture, one bedroom with a queen bed and a dresser, washer and dryer hidden in a closet. Tidy, cozy and well-kept. Sofa, coffee table, full kitchen and even a television set with a satellite dish. The back porch overlooked the creek, and trees marched upward in a slope from the creek.

He went out the back door and walked around the cabin. Pretty here, with the crystal-clear creek set against the mountain slope, the pine and maple and oak trees, and a bed of moss. Two chairs were set before a firepit. Jace inspected the back of the cabin's exterior. The porch ran the length of the cabin, and concrete blocks supported the back half of the cabin, which was built on an incline. Great place for animals to hide. Squatting down, he saw a paper wasps' nest in the corner. Had to be careful, but wasps were the least of his concerns.

He returned to Kara, sitting patiently on the bike.

"Wasps' nest under the porch," he told her.

Jace assessed their situation. Phil owned all three cabins and had put a hold on renting them out.

Much as he appreciated the gesture, knowing it cost Phil plenty of money during tourist season, this place didn't sit right. It was too open, too accessible from the road. Anyone could come up the main road, park and take potshots at them through the trees.

He consulted his phone. No cell service, either.

Kara watched him. "Phil has a dish service and an emergency landline."

Terrific. If they got into trouble, he had a rotary phone. "Ever try to text from a rotary phone?"

Her tremulous smile wobbled. "Not recently."

"One way in, one way out. Where does that road lead to?"

"There's two, maybe three other cabins up there and the road dead ends. Uncle Phil said there's a hiking trail there leading to caves, where it's rumored the Cherokee hid from taking the trail of tears, when they were forced out of their homes and into a death march to reservations."

Hiking trail, and the other main road with the double yellow lines also dead ended. He felt like they were sitting ducks.

"We should leave, go to a hotel if we can find a room."

Even as he said the words, he knew it was pointless. Hotels made Kara vulnerable. Too many sets of eyes on her, and mouths that would gossip about the pretty blonde and the grim man with her. Until Rafe discovered who Marcus was and nabbed him, Kara remained in extreme danger.

"Who's going to know we're here except for Uncle Phil? Maybe we might run into a local who turns curious, or a hungry bear, but that's about it. Not in this section of woods."

Sweet, sensible Kara. But here in the deep woods, without any backup or reinforcements, he didn't like it. He turned to her. "I'll take my chances on the bear more than the locals. Does Uncle Phil have any guns?"

"Hunting rifles, and a shotgun in the bedroom closet. He owns the woods around the cabins and hunts during deer season."

"Good." At least the extra weapons and ammo might come in handy.

Breathing in the pine-scented air, he felt a little tension ease. Certainly, it was cooler here, and during normal circumstances, he'd enjoy hiking in these woods. Jace helped her dismount.

"Have I told you lately how great you're doing and how much I appreciate you riding on a bike and trusting me?" he asked as they took their backpacks and went up the steps.

Kara opened the door for him. "I don't feel like I'm doing great. Sometimes I feel like I'm screaming inside. But I have to hold it together. Not that I haven't done this before."

Inside the cabin, he dumped their packs and found the guns Kara mentioned as she inspected the refrigerator.

"There's some carbonated water and that's about it. We'll have to go food shopping. Phil said there's a grocery store in town. I really don't want to be on that road after dark. It's kind of spooky out here."

"I don't, either. Let's take the truck." He picked up the phone, heard a reassuring dial tone, and replaced it in the cradle. "Unless you want to relax a little first. We have time. I know riding the bike has to frazzle your nerves."

Kara's soft carnation-pink mouth curved into a smile. "It does, but in a way, it's good. I'm overcoming my fears."

"That's good." He went to the sofa, patted it.

As she sat next to him, Kara's expression filled with curiosity. "Jace, you introduced me to your father. You never told me he was a biker. Is that why you didn't want me to meet him when we dated? Why you told me he was dead...?"

He sighed, raked a hand through his hair.

"Yes, and no. It's complicated. He was dead to me for a long time."

She leaned back. "I'm listening. I won't judge you, Jace. Please believe that."

Too ashamed to delve into his family life, he hedged on telling her. Instead, he launched into an explanation about his profession of choice.

"My old man is a reason why I chose the FBI for a career path. I've been trying to find myself for years, babe. It took me a long time to discover what I wanted out of life. Not to get rich and have lots of stuff. People acquire stuff and eventually they want more, always more."

He stretched out his legs and studied the tips of his shoes. "All the guys I worked with were on the fast track. They were headed to Wall Street, becoming investment brokers. Not me. I didn't want that. I needed something more, something deeper than the almighty dollar."

He paused a minute, humbled by her quiet trust in him to tell his story. Because no one ever asked, not even Rafe, and he felt closer than a brother to his boss. She'd changed. Hell, he'd changed as well, hopefully for the better.

"I felt like a robot, a walking, talking artificial intelligence programmed to make money for others and myself. Couldn't resist the urge to follow a higher calling because I started getting afraid I was losing myself, before I ever really began. That might sound pompous."

"No, it doesn't." She put a hand on his arm, her gaze soft with understanding. "I get it, Jace. I do. After a while it feels like life in the shadows. You feel like a shadow of yourself."

Maybe they had spent so much time hiding their real selves from each other, being scared of the possible heartbreak and rejection if they shared their deepest desires, that they'd gotten lost in their own shadows.

"After my time in the Army Rangers, I realized I could still have that higher calling. Not work security like a lot of vets did, but actually help nab the bad guys. I wanted to be someplace where I could make a difference, where my life could make a difference before I leave this earth."

She smiled. "You already have, Jace. You have, more than you realize."

They found the grocery store and bought enough groceries to last a few days. After loading them into the pickup's back seat, he called Rafe.

"We made it to the cabin. Parking it here for a few days. No cell service, though, even here in town it's spotty. Get me up to speed."

"Nothing yet. Lance was supposed to be arraigned today, but they need to get him a court-appointed attorney and that won't happen until tomorrow. Think he's going to cave. Seems like it."

"Maybe my father can help you with Lance as well. I ran into him at a rest stop in North Carolina. He gave me his bike, but I'm still not entirely sure about him. Why you trust him is beyond me, Rafe."

Silence for a minute. "Need your location, Jace. Where are you?"

"Someplace safe." He blew out a breath. "I think someone on your team is in league with the bikers, Rafe. How the hell else could they find us so quickly? Someone had to have planted a tracker on the SUV, which is why I told my old man I needed his bike."

Rafe swore in Spanish. "Jace, these agents are loyal and they know you. They're your friends, for God's sake. No one's betraying you."

"I'm not taking chances."

"Then check in with me every six hours. I have to keep in touch with you."

Jace shook his head. "Once a day, Rafe. Texting won't go through. I'll call you on the landline. You hear news, you contact me. I need to know what's going on. Gotta go."

When they were on the road back to the cabin, he couldn't stop feeling a little betrayed. Yeah, he understood Rafe not telling him about Al's involvement, but still...

Kara seemed more relaxed than Jace felt. He still felt uneasy about this location. On the way back to the cabin, he had to take it slow, shifting the truck's gears and making them grind, much to Kara's amusement.

The long, winding road seemed to go on forever, twists and turns that he loved taking on a motorcycle on his time off. Not in a pickup truck with Kara riding shotgun, where local vehicles appeared out of nowhere going fast, crossing over the double yellow line.

Dusk draped over the valley by the time they were on the country road to the cabin. Sunlight dappling the trees grew thinner. He hated this road, and how tight it seemed, because he didn't like being in spaces that had no real exit plan. Anyone could come down this road and ambush them, and they'd be screwed. At least on the motorcycle he could make a quick exit with Kara.

He had navigated another twist in the road when Kara cried out, "Oh, stop!"

Jace stepped on the brakes, avoiding the truck fishtailing by twisting the wheel the opposite way. A low curse tumbled out.

Her door opened and Kara bolted out of the truck. Jace pulled off the road and followed her.

A dog. Trotting alongside the road, the mutt stopped as he spotted Kara. As if sensing a friend, or food, the dog ran up to her. Jace groaned. They didn't have the luxury of pet-the-dog time and this one looked like a stray. He called out a warning.

"Hey, be careful. He could bite."

"He won't bite me. Will you, buddy?" she crooned, holding out her hand. The dog, a beagle mix by the look, came up to her as if she was a tasty bone. He sniffed her hand and wagged his tail, looking up at her.

"Oh, Jace, he's half-starved. No collar, either. Do you suppose he escaped from home?"

"He's probably a stray."

"Uncle Phil did say sometimes people come here to dump dogs." She sniffed. "He's always trying to find homes for them. I bet this is one of the dumped dogs."

He came closer, held out his hand. The beagle sniffed his hand and stared at him with large, brown eyes that seemed almost soulful. Aw, damn. Damn dog looked almost like Rocky, the beagle mix he'd been forced to give away when he was thirteen. Rocky, who went to a rich kid who had always wanted a beagle and offered five hundred dollars for Jace's dog.

His mom decided they needed the money more than the dog, who was "eating us out of house and home."

Some moments you never forgot. Rocky was one—the dog howling as his mom drove him away, Jace hanging out the window, Rocky running alongside the car until he became a tiny blip on the horizon, the tears making him into a fuzzy dot...

He did not need this now. Baggage.

Kara was already headed back to the car, digging into the plastic grocery bags for the roast beef and tomato sub he'd bought. She pulled the roast beef free. Instead of giving it to the dog, she handed it to Jace.

"Here. It's your food. I only got a salad."

Great. Now he was feeding strays. Jace held out the meat and the dog swallowed in one gulp. Yeah, dog was starving. He looked hopeful, as if Jace had more.

"We can't leave him here, Jace. Please."

He jammed a hand through his hair, realized it was the same hand covered with roast-beef residue and released a laugh.

"I don't know..."

"Jace, please." Kara turned her big baby blues to him, at the same time the beagle looked at him with big brown eyes. Two sets of soulful eyes, pleading for help.

He was a sucker for helping people, bringing justice to the world because he'd been an abandoned stray.

Jace looked around. The sun had almost vanished now behind the treetops. "All right. Just for tonight and tomorrow we'll look for his owner."

He opened the truck's back door. "In."

The dog jumped inside, and then wriggled into the front driver's seat. He sat there, grinning at Jace.

Jace glanced at Kara, who laughed and finally the tension between them broke.

"Guess he's driving," he drawled.

Kara opened the driver's door. "Back seat, buddy. Your paws can't reach the pedals."

The dog jumped into the back, tail wagging, and thrust his head between them as they both climbed back into the truck. Jace scratched the dog's ears.

"You need a bath, dog," he muttered.

"You need a name," Kara decided.

"How about Dog?"

She rolled her eyes.

"Duke?"

The dog whined.

"He's not a Duke. But definitely a D name. How about Darby?" Kara asked.

The dog barked as if agreeing. Then he nudged Jace's hand with his cold, wet nose as if asking for pets.

A lump clogged his throat as he obliged. Rocky had done the same. Oh, Rocky had a good home after that pitiful yelping and running after the car. The rich kid whose daddy shelled out the five hundred for him had bragged in school to Jace about all the tricks Rocky was learning. How Rocky slept in his bed every night and how they took Rocky everywhere, including a vacation to the mountains, where Rocky went hiking and fishing with them almost every day.

Each time the rich kid told Jace these stories, he hated himself.

Hated his mother more.

Even at thirteen, he knew he should have let go and walked away from the rich kid waxing poetic about Rocky, but like a guy who never got over losing the woman he loved with all his heart, he'd listened to every tidbit, every single story about Rocky.

Just to know his beloved dog was doing okay.

He'd done the same with Kara, when her father had met him for lunch a time or two after their breakup, asking Jace what went wrong. Listening to how she was doing, making sure she was okay because he still cared.

Even though he didn't want to care.

Thankfully, those tortuous visits stopped when he applied to become an agent and training started at Quantico. He learned to deal with life's curve balls and managed to forge ahead.

Yet he never forgot Kara.

At the cabin, Jace climbed out of the vehicle, opened the door for Kara. Darby bounded out of the car. Halfway expecting him to bolt for the woods, Jace was surprised to see the dog bound up the cabin stairs and stand by the screen door.

Kara laughed. "Look, he thinks he's home."

Such a delightful, sweet sound, her laugh, and it echoed in the valley ringed by mountains. It soothed him, made him smile and nearly forget the reason they were here.

Inside the cabin, they set about putting away groceries and the dog danced around them.

"Uncle Phil keeps dog food in the pantry for the abandoned dogs..." Kara opened a door. "Here."

She poured kibble into a stainless-steel bowl and set it on the ground, and put water out for Darby. He drank the water, sniffed the kibble and then looked at her, tail wagging.

Kara laughed and opened a package of cooked chicken, sprinkling it on the kibble. The dog began eating with a voracious appetite.

Out of habit, he checked his phone again. Nothing. Jace picked up the phone on the table, heard the dial tone and replaced it in the cradle.

"No selfies here," he mused and she laughed again.

He hadn't seen Kara this relaxed in a long time. Maybe this could be a good thing, hanging here for a few days, the place to themselves... He plopped down on the sofa and crooked a finger.

"C'mere."

She made her way to the plush sofa, but the dog beat her to it. Wagging his tail, Darcy jumped into his lap. Jace sighed as she laughed again.

"I guess he thinks he's first in your affections. Poor baby is starved for food and love. We have plenty of both."

Eyes shining, her soft mouth curving into a smile, she looked like heaven itself in the cabin. Jace took a deep breath. Yeah, a few days here might be exactly what they both needed.

Rafael Jones Rodriguez seldom underestimated an enemy. He'd remained alive in many situations because of this trait. When facing gunfire, he assumed the bad guys had more firepower, better ammo and a quicker exit. He always had a backup plan.

Even that hellish day when he'd lost Fiefer and Sanchez, two of his best agents, it hadn't been because he'd underestimated the danger they faced. They'd failed due to promised backup that never arrived from local law enforcement. Outnumbered. Outgunned.

By the time the local LEOs finally got their act together and decided to save the day, Dave and Carlos were dead and Rafe had been lying on the ground, struggling for his life.

Ever since leaving rehab, he'd vowed to never get caught like that again. Two good men dead, their families left grieving. He'd go through hell and back again before it happened again.

Certainly wasn't going to happen with Jace. Not Jace, his friend and a dedicated agent who hadn't wanted this assignment, but needed to go through with the grueling undercover work, forfeit his personal life to get the job done. Jace, who always trusted him in the past, and didn't trust him enough now with the cabin's location.

That hurt.

Rafe paced in front of the bullpen as his team worked. They were close to discovering the real identity of Marcus. Dylan had given him a description, which they circulated to law enforcement.

Lance was in custody, but not saying a word. Maybe the president of the Southeastern division of the Devil's Patrol was loyal.

Rafe doubted it. Guy seemed more terrified than loyal. Marcus had a long arm.

His cell rang. Tom, the agent he'd sent over to the local jail where Lance was imprisoned, to check on the prisoner. Rafe answered in a clipped voice.

The news made his stomach roil and his bad day worse. He told Tom to stay, find out what the hell happened.

The men and women in the bullpen looked up as he released a string of curses in Spanish that would make his beloved abulita slap him into next week. He heaved a breath.

"Lance is dead. Someone shanked him in the cell. He bled out before the guards could get to him."

Over at the intel desk, Sally, a crack cybersecurity agent, beckoned to him. "I've got chatter, Rafe. The DP social media is saying Lance got what he deserved." She glanced down at her laptop. "Not for getting caught by the Feds, but letting Jace slip away with the target."

His mind whirled. The target... Kara. Not Jace. "You've got something there. Get Darkling on Teams."

Someone dialed the connection and Darkling went online to participate in the brainstorming meeting.

Rafe went to the board and began writing on the whiteboard as he quizzed his team. "Right. So we've got Marcus, who wants Jace and Kara. Why not send an army of gang members after him from the start when Jace was easier to find? What's his game plan?"

"No social-media chatter or anything on blowing up a target," Sally called out. "No viable threats of domestic terrorism."

"And yet he has enough makings for a bomb. Who is the target?"

"Killing Lance before he spilled anything else, like the real reason Marcus wants Jace," another agent called out.

"Maybe Marcus isn't after Jace for personal reasons," Sally added. "What about the woman, Kara?"

Marker in hand, Rafe paused, his instincts surging, brain cells clicking like machine parts. He turned from the board. "Give me everything you have on Kara Wilmington. Everything. I want to know where she went to elementary school. Her best friend when she was five. Dammit, even her favorite breakfast cereal. There's a connection here we're missing between Marcus and Kara."

It had to be Kara, because nothing about this made sense. Kara was the missing equation tying everything together.

From her laptop, Darkling called out. "I got it, Rafe. I know why Marcus wants Kara. It is personal."

As she relayed what she'd found out, Rafe's stomach roiled. This changed everything. This was personal and made Kara a target they'd never anticipated.

It wasn't money.

It was revenge.

Biting back another string of curses, Rafe reached for his phone to warn his best agent. Jace's cell went straight to voice mail.

They had to find Marcus before Marcus found Jace and Kara.