Page 8 of Winter Reckoning
“What’s in the shed?” Detective work, that I could manage.
I got off the couch and moved behind him. This morning, he had switched to flannel pajama pants. Where I expected warm, fuzzy slippers, he wore black work boots. No, not work. Tactical. They weren’t so different from the ones I wore when I suited up.
Curious.
“It’s not important.” His tone shifted. Sadness? “It’s a distant memory.” No, not sadness, defeat. It felt like when Cap asked if I had plans for retirement.
I watched him, studying the curves of his body… for research. He might be a big guy, but as he shifted his weight, I could see the muscles underneath the loose fabric.
I wanted to ask why I was here. Did a supervillain hide in the distance, waiting to strike? Or maybe I was here to protect him from himself? Either way, I wanted to ask why he was important enough to have a Redline file. Somebody above my pay grade had deemed him a priority alongside world-ending disasters.
Nick shoved his hands in his pockets and headed to the kitchen.
I'd seen plenty of civilians under protection. They paced, asked questions, jumped at sounds. They couldn't sit still for more than a few minutes without needing updates. For those fearing for their lives, they just wanted assurances they’d make it out alive.
Nick moved like a man who'd already made peace with whatever was coming.
I had questions, but I bit my tongue. Except, they weren’t because of the mission brief. I recognized that walk. Right down to the boots, we were the same. If I rallied him to put up a fight and refuse to fade into the background, I’d have to confront the day after tomorrow. I couldn’t realistically ask him without delving into my own situation.
I refused to self-analyze.
The space between my shoulder blades tightened. I moved to his side, staring out the window. Leaning in, it was almost impossible to see through the storm. The world had been consumed by the white flecks and gray skies. I couldn’t prove it, but I felt eyes on me…him. It could be my imagination, but after twenty years, I learned to trust my gut. Right now, it said there was a reason I had been sent to Whitetail Ridge.
“What’s out there?” I suspected Nick knew more than he let on.
“Confirmation of the inevitable.”
“Are you always this cryptic?”
He smiled. It might have been the first genuine emotion I had seen from him. The salt and pepper beard hid the corner of his lips, but his cheeks turned red. The lines on his face deepened, suggesting that once upon a time a smile had been the default.
“Sometimes.”
“You’re a conundrum.” A smile tried to creep across my face. I forced my muscles to remain slack.
“So, I’ve been told.”
We stood at the window. He watched the sky as the snow fell while I continued scanning the horizon. The knot in my back hadn’t let up, but nowhere could I find a threat. I glanced at my watch again. An hour since Charlene left.
“There’s something out there.” I eyed the shed. “Should we get Charlene?”
He shook his head. “She’s safe.”
“How do you know?”
“This isn’t about her.”
It was the first note I could add to the mission brief. At least I knew whom to keep my eyes on. It didn’t change much, but at least one question had been answered. I inched closer, ready to throw him out of the way if I heard the whistle of a sniper’s bullet. He might’ve made peace with it. I wasn’t there yet.
Ironic, considering I’m the one with the exit strategy.
4
The storm had let up enoughfor me to walk the perimeter. The sky was still gray, the sun hidden behind thick clouds threatening more snow. My breath hung in the air in puffs of steam as I walked, boots crunching with each step. It’d be impossible to be stealthy. At least the snow meant that if somebody was on foot, I could easily track them.
I scanned the treeline first. Pine and birch stood dark against the pale morning. No movement. No breaks in the snow beneath the branches. No tracks except for the deer. There must have been an entire herd of them moving about the fields around the cabin.
I checked the woodshed next, hoping for answers. From the outside, it appeared harmless. I studied the logs, searching for the panel. Whatever tech Charlene had used remained hidden. Perhaps it had biometric detection and only showed for those on the list. Unable to get inside, I moved on.
