Page 60 of Love on the Run

“She could take him down?” Ty asked.

“Even if she hadn’t seen him kill someone. She knows enough about his operations to put him—and a lot of others—away for life.”

“If I were Foster, I’d be damn sure to get her back.”

“So we just have to find out where they are.”

Ty was looking puzzled. “I’m trying to think…”

“What?”

“When I got hit, I told Callie to keep running. She did, but they got her pretty quick. I couldn’t hear much from that distance, and I might have imagined it, but I thought one of the men said they were going into the sunset. Does that make any sense at all?”

“Into the sunset,” Jake repeated, drumming his fingers on the wall. “They definitely said sunset?”

“Yes. Why? What are you thinking?”

“There’s an abandoned hotel not too far from here. An old resort called Sunset Mountain, back when they tried to get people out here to ski.”

“Would Foster know about that?”

“Maybe. It’s not a secret, and he seems to know about everything. And someone told me he’d seen people there this week!” Jake remembered in a flash. “He thought they were buyers. But I’m thinking it was Foster’s boys, looking for a place to lay low.”

“Let’s check it out then.”

“Are you up to it?” Jake looked meaningfully at the bandage.

“Am I up to helping you find your girl and the sorry jerk who shot me, you mean?”

“So that’s a yes?”

“Hooah,” Ty grinned.

Before they could make any solid plans, they were interrupted by the sound of another vehicle rolling down the driveway.

“That was fast,” Ty noted.

“A little too fast to be anyone I know.” Jake, no longer taking any chances, pulled out his gun and headed to the front door, with Ty on his heels. They stared out of the doorway, not sure whether to be relieved or upset that whoever was coming was making no attempt to hide. A moment later, a shiny black sedan came into view and rolled to a stop. The license plate made it clear who it was.

“Feds,” Ty commented sourly, stepping onto the porch.

“Yep,” Jake agreed, wondering how he’d explain what was going on without losing control of himself or the situation.

The single agent who stepped out of the car was a thin, almost wiry looking man, with copper orange hair cropped severely short. The standard issue black suit and black sunglasses, while out of place in rural Montana, also made him hard to read. He surveyed the place in one glance, and did not look overjoyed by it.

“I’m just going to assume you have bad news,” he snapped by way of a greeting, when he saw Jake holding the gun, and Ty behind him with the bandage clearly visible against his dark skin. He did not appear to be intimidated by Jake, who was pointing the gun toward him.

“Who are you?”

“Special Agent Sean Quinn, FBI.” The man flipped a badge out from his pocket. “I am here to escort Miss Reed into federal custody.”

Jake gave Quinn a long look before he answered. What kind of man was this Quinn? Jake felt a qualm about trusting him.

“You got here fast,” Jake said.

“I don’t waste time,” said Quinn, his words clipped so short they made his point for him. “You talked to my partner, Agent Decker, on the phone. We decided one of us was needed out here as soon as possible.”

Jake nodded to Ty, acknowledging that fact. But he was still wary. “You got a card?” he asked, lowering the gun.

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