Page 43 of Black Ice
She cocked an eyebrow, stared him down.
“Fine. You can drive, but only until we’re close. The best play is for me to go in alone, while you cover me from a distance.”
“And what can I do from a distance?” she asked.
“Keep watch, take pictures.” He handed her his cell phone. “Call it in if you can get a signal. There’s all kinds of ways to be helpful.”
“Mm-hm.” She planted her hands on her hips. “I’ll take that as an opening list. I reserve the right to step in as needed.”
“I can’t talk you out of that?”
“We’re a team or we’re not,” she said. She was zipping up her coat when she heard the whine of a snowmobile. “You hear that?” she asked. He nodded. “It has to be Cordell.” There wasn’t a single, legitimate reason for anyone to be out in this weather.
Wyatt darted across the room to the front window, then peered through the side window that wasn’t covered with ice and snow. “No visibility,” he stated. “Are there any weapons stashed around here that you haven’t mentioned?” he asked.
“There has to be a shotgun or rifle around here.” She dropped down to search the shelves under the counter while Wyatt searched the back rooms. “Nothing,” he said, coming back in. “I hate to think what that man did to get a snowmobile.”
“Grab the keys,” she murmured. “The mining museum has undergone a facelift in recent years.” He’d know that if he’d ever come back. “A building remodel, new tours, maps and posters, along with equipment including, but not limited to, hosting a snowmobile club and garage. Really, my dad is the only one averse to progress these days. Everyone is doing cross-promotion.”
“That’s how he found us,” Wyatt grumbled. “I didn’t know he could read a map without an assistant.”
“Joke later,” she said. “Do we wait him out or what? He can’t be sure we’re in here.” Thank goodness he hadn’t built a fire. While the wind whipped everything into a blur, the scent of a fire out here would’ve made Cordell’s search easier.
“I should’ve taken a look around earlier,” Wyatt chided himself.
“And left tracks in the snow? That would’ve only clued him in faster.” She made sure the camp stove was cold and turned off the lantern. “Come on. We’ll take the back door,” she said with confidence. “It’s closer to the shed.” She tossed him the snowmobile keys.
He caught them and led the way down the hallway. At the back door, Wyatt unlocked the deadbolt and stepped in front of her again. Did he expect her to step outside and invite Cordell to shoot? When would he get it through his thick skull that she didn’t want to see him get hurt either?
They stood there together, listening as the snowmobile passed close to the building and around to the front of the store. The sound died, followed quickly by heavy footsteps on the front porch. She supposed it was too much to hope they were wrong and the snowmobile was part of a search and rescue party.
Wyatt scowled, his finger over his lips.
Any hope that the visitor might be friendly was dashed when two loud gunshots reverberated through the building.
“Jameson!”
Hearing Cordell’s shout, Wyatt turned the knob and put his shoulder to the back door, but it didn’t give more than an inch. Snow sifted in around their feet. This exit route was blocked.
Evie started for the window with the least amount of snow, backpedaling when a shadow approached from the other side.
“It’s them,” Baker’s voice carried from the other side of the glass.
Behind her, Wyatt swore.
“Jameson, get out here. We need to talk.” Tate’s voice slithered over her skin.
She pulled Wyatt toward the storage room. “Hold the door,” she ordered.
Wyatt cursed. “We’re trapped, Evie.”
She didn’t waste time with a reply. She pulled a rolling ladder into place and scrambled up to open the attic access door. “Hurry.”
Wyatt followed her, kicking the ladder back as he ducked inside. “Really trapped,” he said as Tate crashed into the store, shouting and swearing.
He tugged on his hood and twisted around to crawl after her. Being smaller, she had an easier time scooting around the boxes of seasonal stock and decorations toward the window at the end of the long, narrow space, but he stayed close.
She covered her face and kicked through the glass, then threw herself outside.
