Hot Combat. Elle JamesЧитать онлайн книгу.
soil, we’ve had a few homegrown terrorists surface. Is fighting on foreign soil more important than defending your home turf?”
“I might fall for your line of reasoning if we were in New York, or DC.” Ghost shook his head. “We’re in Grizzly Pass. We’re far away from politicians, presidents and wealthy billionaires. We’re in the backside of the backwoods. What could possibly be of interest here?”
“You realize there’s a significant amount of oil running through this state at any given time. Not to mention, it’s also the state with the most active volcano.”
“Not buying it.” Ghost sat back again, unimpressed. “It would take a hell of an explosion to get things stirred up with the volcano at Yellowstone.”
“Well, this area is a hotbed for antigovernment movements. There are enough weapons being stashed and men being trained to form a sizable army. And we’re getting chatter on the social media sites indicating something’s about to go down.”
“Can you be more specific?”
Garner sighed. “Unfortunately, not yet.”
“If you’re done speculating, I have a two-day drive ahead of me to get back to my unit.” Ghost started to rise, but the waitress arrived at that time, blocking his exit from the booth.
“Are you ready to order?”
“I’m not hungry.”
Garner gave the waitress a tight smile. “I’d like the Cowboy Special, Marta.”
Marta faced Ghost. “It’s not too late to change your mind.”
“The coffee will hold me.” Until he could get to Cheyenne where he’d stop for food.
After Marta left, Garner leaned toward Ghost. “Give me a week. That’s all I ask. One week. If you think we’re still tilting at windmills, you can go back to your unit.”
“How did I get the privilege of being your star guinea pig?”
Garner’s face turned a ruddy shade of red and he pressed his lips together. “I got you because you weren’t cleared for active duty.” He raised his hand. “Don’t get me wrong. You have a remarkable record and I would have chosen you anyway, once you’d fully recovered.”
That hurt. The Navy had thrown the DHS a bone by sending a Navy SEAL with a bummed-up leg. Great. So they didn’t think he was ready to return to duty either. The anger surged inside him, making him mad enough to prove them wrong. “All right. I’ll give you a week. If we can’t prove your theory about something about to go down, I’m heading back to Virginia.”
Garner let out a long breath. “That’s all I can ask.”
Ghost smacked his hand on the table. “So, what exactly am I supposed to do?”
“One of our operatives was threatened last night. I need you to work with her while she tries to figure out who exactly it is and why they would feel the need to harass her.” He handed Ghost his business card, flipping it over to the backside where he’d written an address. “This is her home address here in Grizzly Pass.”
“I know where that is.” Orva Davis lived there back when he was a kid. She used to chase the kids out of her yard, waving a switch. She’d been ancient back then, she couldn’t possibly be alive now. “She’s expecting me this morning?”
“She’ll be happy to see anyone this morning. The sooner the better.”
“Who is she?”
At that exact moment Garner’s cell phone buzzed. He glanced down at the caller ID, his brows pulling together. “Sorry, I have to take this. If you have any questions, you can call me at the number on the front of that card.” He pushed to his feet and walked out of the building, pressing the phone to his ear.
After tossing back the last of his coffee, Ghost pulled a couple of bills from his wallet and laid them on the table. He took the card and left, passing Garner on his way to his truck.
The DHS man was deep in conversation, turned completely away from Ghost.
Ghost shrugged. He’d had enough time off that he was feeling next to useless and antsy. But he could handle one more week. He might even get in some fly-fishing.
He slid behind the wheel of his pickup and glanced down at the address. Old Orva Davis couldn’t possibly still be alive, could she? If not her, who was the woman who’d felt threatened in this backwater town? Probably some nervous Nellie.
He’d find out soon enough.
And then...one week.
Charlie had nodded off once or twice during the night, waking with a jerk every time. Thankfully, she hadn’t pulled the trigger and blown a hole in the door, her leg or her foot.
She was up and doing laundry when Lolly padded barefoot out of her bedroom, dragging her giant teddy bear. “I’m hungry.”
“Waffles or cereal?” Charlie asked, forcing a cheerful smile to her tired face.
“Waffles,” Lolly said. “With blueberry syrup.”
“I’ll start cooking, while you get dressed.” Charlie plugged in her waffle iron, mixed the batter and had a waffle cooking in no time. She cleaned off the small dinette table that looked like a throwback to the fifties, with its speckled Formica top and chrome legs. In actuality, the table did date back to the fifties. It was one of the items of furniture that had come with the house when she’d bought it. She’d been fortunate enough to find the bright red vinyl fabric to recover the seats, making them look like new.
On a tight budget, with only one income-producing person in the family, a car payment and student loans to pay, she couldn’t afford to be extravagant.
She was rinsing fresh blueberries in the sink when a dark figure suddenly appeared in the window in front of her. Charlie jumped, her heart knocking against her ribs. She laughed when she realized it was Shadow, the stray she and Lolly had fed through the winter. Charlie was far too jumpy that morning. The messages from the night before were probably all bluster, no substance, and she’d wasted a night she could have been sleeping, worrying about nothing.
The cat rubbed her fur against the window screen. When that didn’t get enough attention, she stretched out her claws and sank them into the screen netting.
“Hey! Get down.” Charlie tapped her knuckles against the glass and the cat jumped down from the ledge. “Lolly! Shadow’s hungry and my hands are full.”
Lolly entered the room dressed in jeans, a pink T-shirt and the pink cowboy boots she loved so much. The boots had been a great find on one of their rare trips to the thrift shop in Bozeman, Montana. “I’ll get the bowl.” She started for the back door.
I’ll find you.
The message echoed in Charlie’s head and she dropped the strainer of blueberries into the sink and hurried toward her daughter. “Wait, Lolly. I’ll get the cat bowl. Tell you what, you grab a brush, and we’ll braid your hair this morning.”
Charlie waited until her daughter had left the kitchen, then she unlocked the dead bolt and glanced out at the fresh green landscape of early summer in the Rockies. The sun rose in the east and a few puffy clouds skittered across the sky. Snow still capped the higher peaks in stunning contrast to the lush greenery. How could anything be wrong on such a beautiful day?
A loud ringing made her jump and then grab for the telephone mounted on the wall beside her.
“Hello,” she said, her voice cracking, her body trembling from being startled.
“Charlie, it’s me, Kevin.”
“Thank goodness.” She laughed, the sound even shakier than her knees.