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“The general himself isn’t a realistic target. He’s a tough old bird, and he’s usually protected by his aides. If the kidnapper had Emily, he could use her as leverage.”

  “To do what?”

  “Could be something as simple as ransom,” he said. “Or it could involve having the general change his position on some kind of finance bill. Attacking the family makes for an effective scare tactic. When it comes to his own personal safety, the general is fearless. But his family? He’d do anything—including going against his core principles—to protect them.”

  It sounded to her like he’d had some experience with this sort of operation. “Have you done things like this before?”

  “I did some counterintelligence work in the Middle East, enough to know that terrorists don’t always use explosives to get what they want. Fear is a powerful motivator.”

  Though she’d never been to war, she had an idea of what he meant. “You can’t give in to fear.”

  “Can’t ignore it, either,” he said as he clipped a hands-free phone into his ear. “I’m going to check in with Kovak.”

  Leaning back in the seat, she stared through the windshield at the cold, snow-encrusted forest on either side of the road. The mountains were a wonderful place to live. Nowhere else would ever feel like home to her. But she was well aware of the dangers hidden in these rocky slopes. Every winter, there were deaths due to natural causes.

  Living here, you learned to be careful. But you couldn’t let fear keep you locked inside in front of the fireplace. Without risk, life was too dull.

  He ended his call. “The cell phone reception is better here than at your B and B. Earlier tonight, I tried to call Jeremy and the call got dropped twice.”

  “Is Jeremy with his father?” she asked.

  “They’re together, driving each other crazy.”

  “The general can’t be happy about having his son marry into Emily’s family. Her dad is super-liberal.”

  The corner of Blake’s mouth twitched into a grin. “When those two shake hands for the first time, it’s going to turn into an arm wrestling match.”

  “You think that’s funny?”

  “Hell, yes,” he said. “Don’t you?”

  Because Emily was a good friend, Sarah had been sympathetic about her family problem. But she had to admit that she’d been looking forward to the confrontation. “I’ve been trying to think of conversation topics they might be able to talk about without arguing, like the weather or sports.”

  “Sports are out. The senator supports West Coast teams and the general likes the Yankees and Patriots.”

  She envisioned many long, uncomfortable silences with the two men snarling at each other. “Do you have any ideas? I’d guess that you and I don’t have much in common. What would we talk about?”

  “Mountain rescue,” he said. “How did you get started with that?”

  “I took a search and rescue course a long time ago. And I was already into rock climbing.”

  “Me, too.”

  It seemed that they actually did share some interests. “Do you ski?”

  “Skiing and snowboarding, but I like cross-country best.”

  As did she. She’d learned cross-country skiing as soon as she could walk. “What about rodeo?”

  “Not a big fan,” he said. “My family used to have a farm in Wisconsin, so I got enough of horses and cows when I was growing up.”

  With that kind of background, she knew that he was familiar with livestock. “I’ve always been concerned about animal cruelty at rodeos,” she said. “I cheer for the bucking bronco instead of the cowboy.”

  “Cowboys aren’t your thing?”

  “Not really.”

  The light from the dashboard outlined his high cheekbones and sharp jawline. When he grinned again, she noticed that his lower lip was fuller than the upper. “You know, Sarah, I don’t think we’d have a problem finding things to talk about.”

  When she first started talking, she hadn’t been on a fishing trip, trying to find out more about him. But that was what had happened. She’d learned that they had similar interests and small-town backgrounds. In that way, they were compatible.

  And in other ways, too. Emily noticed Sarah’s first reaction when she met Blake. A glowing blush that spread from her neck to her hairline. Sarah had always preferred big men with broad chests and long legs. Seeing Blake in action was, well, it was kind of thrilling.

  She ripped her gaze away from his profile and squinted down at her lap, pretending interest in the bra she held in her hands. She didn’t want to be attracted to him. This weekend was going to be difficult enough.

  “Take a left up here.” They were making good time. No other vehicles on the road. And the pavement was dry. “We’re about ten minutes away.”

  “Put on your blindfold.”

  Grumbling, she took off her cap and tied her bra around her forehead. When she flipped the front down, the black fabric covered her eyes, but she could still see through. She eased it up on her forehead. “This had better be worth it.”

  “If we catch this guy, we’ll be on our way to ending the threat, and the wedding can go forward.” He took Farley’s cell phone from his pocket and held it toward her. “I should make contact with our mystery man. Press the redial button and hold the phone while I talk?”

  She did as he asked and listened as the kidnapper answered on the first ring.

  Using his fake drawl, Blake said, “I’m getting close. Where should we meet?”

  “Changed my mind,” the kidnapper said. “This project is over.”

  “What’s your problem?” Blake shot her a worried glance. “I did what you wanted.”

  “Changed my mind,” he repeated, angrily. “Never contact me again.”

  “You can’t just cut me off like that. You owe me.” Blake put a convincing whine into his voice. “What am I supposed to do with the girl?”

  “Get rid of her.”

  A shudder ran through her. This man had called for Emily’s death as casually as he’d order a pizza.

  Playing along, Blake drawled, “Are you telling me to kill her? ’Cause that’s going to cost you extra.”

  “Do whatever you want with her. Do it slowly, painfully. You boys can have yourselves some fun making her squeal. That will be payment enough for your services.”

  A muscle in Blake’s jaw twitched but he kept his voice flat and emotionless. “You promised cash. Half up front and half now.”

  “Let’s cut the crap. I know who you are.”

  “Is that so?”

  The kidnapper’s voice turned cold. “Don’t play games with me. You’re out of your league.”

  Abandoning his fake voice, Blake said, “We should talk.”

  “Oh, we will. Not today but soon. Good night, Major Randall.”

  The phone went dead.

  Chapter Five

  With a yank of the steering wheel, Blake pulled Farley’s van off to the side of the road and parked. He took the cell phone from Sarah and hit Redial. The kidnapper’s phone rang unanswered, a tinny echo in the night.

  “What went wrong?” Sarah asked.

  “He must have gotten wind of what really happened to Farley and his men.” Not a big surprise. The men hadn’t been operating under a cloak of secrecy. Someone might have contacted the kidnapper from the hospital. The kidnapper might be working with another person. Blake had known that arresting the kidnapper was a long shot. His hope had been that if they quickly executed their plan, they’d catch the guy off guard.

  “He knew your name.”

  He shrugged. “It wouldn’t be hard for him to identify me. He knows what’s going on with the general, and I’m Jeremy’s best man. Plus, I have reservations at your B and B.”

  “Oh,
my God. That’s terrible.” She sounded truly alarmed. “If he got your name from my records, it means somebody who works for me was in contact with him.”

  “Not necessarily.”

  Her dark eyes flicked from side to side as she searched his face for an answer. “Give me another explanation.”

  “Are your records computerized?”

  “Of course.”

  “He could have hacked the system.”

  “Even worse.” She threw her hands in the air. “I keep everything on the computer. He could know every detail about the wedding. The timing, the suppliers, the arrival times for the guests...”

  “There’s another possibility.” He needed to divert her attention before she worked herself into a wild frenzy. “He could have monitored our cell phone calls. Kovak could have said my name.”

  She dismissed that theory with a shake of her head. Though tied down by the black bra wrapped around her forehead, her hair bounced. “Damn it, Blake. You should have told me about the danger. I wouldn’t have put all that info on the computer, where some psycho could hack into it. What did he mean when he said that creepy stuff about killing her slowly?”

  “Trying to shock us.”

  “It worked.”

  Her nose wrinkled as though she smelled rotten eggs, and he was momentarily distracted by her expression. Even at two in the morning, after all they’d been through, she was bursting with energy. He wanted to tell her that everything was going to be all right. But he wasn’t going to lie. They had plenty to worry about.

  Deliberately looking away from her, he said, “I need to talk to Kovak.”

  He made the connection on his hands-free phone. After quickly filling the deputy in on what had happened, Blake launched a new plan for investigating. To Kovak, he said, “Since we’re close to the Laughing Dog, we might as well start there. Meet us in the parking lot outside the saloon.”

  His hand rested on the gear shift knob. Sarah reached toward him. “Wait,” she said. “There’s something I need from you.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “From now on, I want to know everything. You’ve got to keep me in the loop. Will you do that?”

  He wasn’t accustomed to sharing intelligence with civilians, but he understood where she was coming from. The B and B was her responsibility, and she needed to take care of the place and the people who stayed there. “You have my word.”

  “Good.” She gave a tight nod. “Keep going on this road. We’re close to the Laughing Dog. I don’t know what you hope to find there. It’s been closed for hours, and it’s Tuesday night so there wasn’t live entertainment.”

  “Entertainment, huh?” He slipped the van into gear. “Is the Laughing Dog the place where you thought I should hire a stripper?”

  “Get your mind out of the gutter. I’m talking about live music—country western bands or folk singers.” She reached across the console to give him a shove. “Still, I guess it’s a good sign that you’re still thinking of strippers.”

  “How so?”

  “If you need a stripper, you’re still considering my B and B for the wedding location.”

  He couldn’t promise a decision. “That’s not my call.”

  The Laughing Dog Saloon stood alone on a separate block at the edge of the town. The two-story rough-wood saloon with a wide porch across the front reminded him of an old fort. In the back, the spacious asphalt parking lot was cleared of snow. A light above the back door shone down on two trucks and another late-model vehicle.

  “The owners live upstairs,” she said. “A really nice couple, but if you’re planning to wake them up, you might want to wait until Kovak joins us.”

  He parked Farley’s van beside one of the trucks and looked over at her. “And you might want to take off your bra.”

  She snatched the black fabric off her head and ran her fingers through her shimmering reddish-blond hair. Those curls were the only soft thing about her. In spite of the occasional flashes of cuteness, her features were strong, set in a triangle-shaped face with a sharp, determined chin.

  This night had been stressful, and she’d handled it well. He wanted her to know that he appreciated her courage. Reaching toward her, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re a good sport.”

  She grabbed his hand and pushed it away. “Yeah, that’s me. Good, old Sarah.”

  He wasn’t sure why she sounded ticked off. “You don’t have to bite my head off.”

  “Just keep your hands to yourself.” She sank down in the seat, pulling her head into her parka like a turtle going into its shell. “I don’t like being teased. When I was a kid and guys pulled my pigtails, I never thought it was funny.”

  “I bet you got back at them on the playground.”

  She cast a baleful glance in his direction. “None of those jerks ever teased me twice.”

  “You think you’re pretty tough.”

  “That’s right.”

  Her attitude sounded like a challenge, and he couldn’t pass up a schoolboy urge to play games with her. He unfastened his seat belt and turned sideways to face her. “You’d probably hate it if I did this.” With a lightning-quick move, he tugged down the zipper on her parka.

  She unfastened her seat belt and whipped around in her seat to face him. The look in her dark eyes was half fury and half surprise. “I can’t believe you did that.”

  “Because nobody messes with Sarah, am I right?”

  “Nobody survives to tell the tale.”

  “Let me fix this.” He reached for her zipper as though he intended to pull it back up. As soon as she glanced down, he lightly tweaked her nose.

  With zero hesitation, she bolted from her seat and crossed the space separating them. Her right arm cocked, and she took a swing at him. Blake was faster. He caught her wrist before her fist struck his chin.

  As she yanked to get away, she came closer to him. A different sort of urge raced through him. He wanted to kiss the snarl off those full lips, to feel her body pressing against him. But that was definitely inappropriate. He could barely justify the teasing. Forcing her to kiss him was out of the question.

  He released her hand and faced forward, staring through the windshield. “You know, those boys who pulled your pigtails only wanted you to notice them.”

  “Is that what you want?”

  A breathless quality in her voice caught his attention, and he turned toward her. “Maybe.”

  Her left hand stroked his cheek. She maneuvered closer. Her gaze fastened to his mouth. Inches away from him, her right hand climbed his chest to his throat then his jaw. Gently, she caressed his cheek. Her eyes sent a message as though she wanted to kiss him. Instead, she pinched his nose between her thumb and forefinger and squeezed twice. “Honk, honk.”

  Before he could react, she was out of the van. Pacing around to the front, she laughed and said, “Never tease me twice.”

  When he joined her, a light went on in the upper half of the saloon building. A bearded man in red flannel underwear stepped onto the landing for the outdoor staircase. He was holding a rifle.

  “We’re closed,” he yelled.

  “Hey, Zeke.” She waved to him. “It’s Sarah Bentley.”

  “What are you doing here? Is that Farley’s van?”

  Kovak pulled into the lot behind them and parked the rental SUV. He also waved and identified himself. “We need to ask you a couple of questions, Zeke.”

  “Meet me at the back door.” Zeke disappeared into the upper part of the house.

  In spite of the late hour, Deputy Kovak was alert and ready to jump into an investigation with both feet. “I’ll start by tracing the kidnapper’s phone number,” he said. “It’s probably a burner phone with no identification, but I’ll try. As soon as I get back to the jail, I’ll q
uestion Farley. Do you want to be with me for that, Blake?”

  “Not necessary.”

  “Do you think the kidnapper is a local? Or somebody who lives in Aspen?”

  “I don’t know,” Blake said. He was still distracted by Sarah honking his nose and thinking about how he could get back at her and get closer to her at the same time.

  “Here’s what I’m thinking,” Kovak said. “A local would know that Farley was a bad guy who could be hired to help with a kidnapping.”

  “But the plot against the general doesn’t have roots in this area.”

  The back door opened, framing Zeke in his faded long underwear. His full salt-and-pepper beard compensated for thinning hair above his heavily lined forehead. The man was huge. When he gestured for them to enter, he looked like a grizzly bear swatting at a horse fly.

  Through the back door, they passed through a clean, modern kitchen that had been washed down for the night. The front area of the saloon was a large, wood-paneled room with a long, oak bar on one side and a stage on the other.

  Zeke pointed to a round table. “Have a seat. You want coffee?”

  Sarah answered for them. “Coffee is too much trouble. How about tea?”

  “I hate tea,” Zeke muttered.

  “Coffee it is,” she said. “I’ll make it.”

  As she went into the kitchen, Blake introduced himself and sat at the table. “Tyler Farley and his friends are in trouble. Two of them are in the hospital.”

  “How were they hurt?”

  “Gunshot wounds.”

  Without moving, Zeke bellowed, “Dolly, get your tail down here. You’ll want to hear this firsthand.”

  Dolly must have already decided the same thing because she popped through a door at the edge of the stage and bustled toward them. She was an imposing figure, not especially tall but big. Her frizzy blond hair made a halo around her head. She adjusted her long, flannel robe as she sat. “Who got shot?”

  After Kovak introduced her as Zeke’s wife, he gave the names of the two men. “They’re under arrest at the hospital and ought to be okay.”

  “What happened?”