Snowbound Targets (HQR Romantic Suspense)

by Karen Whiddon

  Though everyone had been talking, the room immediately got quiet. No one bothered to hide their interest, eying Jason as they waited for him to answer.

  Not sure how to respond, when Lucy came over and slipped her hand into his, he struggled not to show his surprise.

  “Not long enough,” she replied for him. “We’re at the stage in our relationship where we’re constantly learning something new about each other.”

  The cleverness of her response made him chuckle. “That’s for sure,” he said, turning and giving her a kiss on her cheek.

  Most of the men laughed. Only one guy, Tad Gibbins, sipped his beer in silence. The intense way he gazed at Lucy made Jason slightly uncomfortable. He could only imagine how she must feel.

  About to ask Tad to knock it off, Jason cleared his throat first, hoping the other man would get the hint. Instead, Tad moved closer until he stood a few feet in front of Lucy. He chugged down some beer as if he needed liquid courage before speaking.

  “You look familiar,” he said. “Have we met?”

  Lucy stared back, making Jason admire the way she held her ground. “I don’t think so,” she replied. “I haven’t really been into town much.”

  “You’re not from around here, are you?” Tad persisted. “Even so, I can’t shake the feeling that we’ve met.”

  “We haven’t.” Her tone sounded positive, even though Jason knew there was no way she could be. Not unless her memory had suddenly and miraculously returned, which he doubted.

  Finally, Tad shrugged. “If you say so,” he mumbled, moving back to the other side of the room.

  The group stayed another forty-five minutes, filling Jason in on everything that had happened in Cedar since his last visit home. Several times, Jason caught Lucy eying one of the men while he repeated the latest gossip, her expression skeptical.

  Later, after everyone had said their goodbyes and driven off, Jason went back inside to find Lucy with her back to him, rummaging in the refrigerator. When she straightened up, she turned and made a face at him. “Those men gossip more than a bunch of real housewives,” she said.

  Laughing, he agreed. “But they’re good guys. I told you there was nothing to worry about.”

  “Maybe not.” But then her expression sobered. “Except that Tad guy kind of freaked me out. I don’t understand why he kept insisting we’d met before.”

  “I wouldn’t take him too seriously,” he said. “He’s probably thinking of some actress or model he’s seen on TV.”

  “Right,” she snorted. “Because I look like I could possibly be a model. An actress, maybe. But not a model.”

  Once again, he realized she truly had no idea of the power of her own beauty.

  “Anyway,” she continued. “He worried me. He was so...intense. Do you think it’s possible he might be the one who’s been causing all the trouble? I followed everyone outside so I could check out their vehicles, but none of the trucks looked like the one that tried to run us off the road.”

  “Tad?” Jason shook his head. “He’s relatively new to Cedar, but he’s been here long enough for me to know he’s a good guy.”

  Though her expression registered her disbelief, she finally nodded, accepting his words.

  The phone rang. Landline again. When Jason answered, the caller identified himself. “Paul Groesel with NCIS.”

  “Why’d you subpoena me?” Jason asked, keeping his voice level. “I’ve already told you I don’t have any idea where Rick went. I’m as worried about him as you are. Forcing me to come in for questioning is just a waste of everyone’s time.”

  “I apologize,” Groesel said. “But that subpoena was out of my hands. Actually, Rick Engles is just a small part in a very large puzzle. We sent you a subpoena because we need to see all the photographs you took in Kabul at the hotel, before and after the explosion.”

  Confused, Jason dragged his hand through his hair. “You don’t seriously believe Rick had something to do with that, do you?”

  “We need to see your photos,” Groesel repeated.

  “But why?”

  “Right now, we can’t give you an explanation. That’s classified.”

  Jason bit back an automatic retort. By now, he should be used to dealing with the military. “I’m reviewing the photographs myself.”

  “No need to do that. Just bring them all.”

  This rubbed Jason the wrong way. “They’re mine. I’m contracted for a book of my best shots. Believe me, I’m going to be taking a look at them.”

  Silence, then Groesel cleared his throat. “This may be a matter of national security,” he declared.

  Though Jason didn’t say so, he didn’t believe a word of that. If this, whatever this might be, truly was a matter of national security, agents would have already been at his cabin, confiscating the work he’d spent months on.

  Luckily, he’d backed everything up, both in the cloud and on thumb drives.

  Just to be certain, he checked the subpoena again. His presence was required, nothing more. “I won’t be bringing any photographs,” he finally said, wondering if he should reveal his hand so early on. “If you need them that bad, you’ll have to get another subpoena.”

  The other man cursed, a particularly virulent string of words that would have been mildly shocking had Jason not heard them all before.

  “Come on,” Groesel finally pleaded. “Help me out here. We won’t keep them. We just need to take a look.”

  Nope, nope and nope. Still, Jason decided to hedge his bets a bit. “Is there any particular location or time period you’re interested in?” he asked, hoping for a clue. “I mean, there are thousands of photos. All taken over the last two and a half years, in various hot spots and war zones.”

  The other man hesitated. “The last six months would probably work.”

  As specifics went, that wasn’t much to go on, though it was better than nothing.

  “I’m sorry,” Jason finally replied. “Get another subpoena. Then I’ll know this is legit.”

  Again, silence on the other end of the line.

  “Is there anything else I can help you with?” Jason asked.

  Groesel cleared his throat. “Actually, there is. I just wanted to check on you. Has anything unusual happened lately? Like death threats or hate emails?”

  Like almost being run off the road? Like having someone try to set your house on fire? That kind of unusual?

  “No, not really,” Jason lied, wondering if Groesel was threatening him. “Why do you ask?”

  “Again, I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to discuss. Please, write down my number and call if you remember anything or if anything strange should occur.”

  Jason almost asked the other man if that had been a veiled threat, but once again held his tongue. Instead, he thanked the other man and ended the call.

  “Something’s going on,” he said, telling Lucy what Groesel had wanted. “None of this adds up. What do my photos have to do with national security? They were taken out of country. All of them. The last ones were of the terrorist attack on the hotel. In addition to that, I never met up with Rick. Sure, I tried to reach him, but I was unsuccessful. I’ve tried a few times since I left Afghanistan, but haven’t been successful.”

  Expression serious, she shook her head. “That’s really weird.”

  “Yes, it is.” He decided to go ahead and mention the rest of it. “On top of that, he asked if anything unusual had happened lately. Specifically, death threats or hate emails.”

  She gasped. “Was he threatening you?”

  “Not specifically, but yeah. I think he was.”

  The phone rang again, startling them both. Wary, he answered.

  “Listen to me,” Groesel said. “You don’t understand what’s going on, or how serious it is. The fire was no accident, nor was the truck trying to run you o
ff the road. Either you turn over the photos, or your life could be in danger.” He hung up without giving Jason a chance to speak.

  Stunned, Jason slowly replaced the phone in its base. “That was him again. This time, he most definitely threatened me. He told me either I turn over the photos or my life will be in danger.”

  Lucy swallowed hard. “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know,” he answered, though he did. He’d never been the type to give in to threats and he didn’t figure he’d start now.

  Except he now had someone else to consider. Blinking, he realized Lucy watched him, her eyes huge in her pale face.

  “Hey,” he said, crossing the room to cup her chin and press a lingering kiss on her lips. “Look at the positive side. At least we know for a fact that they’re not aware of your existence. Groesel never mentioned you, not once. So none of this is targeted at you.”

  Though she nodded, the shadow never left her gaze.

  Suddenly, he knew what they needed to do. “We need to go through the last six months of photos as quickly as possible. We need to figure out what they’re after. And what they don’t want us to see.”

  Chapter 10

  Lucy admired Jason’s determination, though privately she wondered at how he’d come by his rock-solid fearlessness. It would make sense that bravery and a reckless disregard for danger would be a by-product of being a photojournalist in war zones. She imagined one would eventually become inured to the concept of death waiting just around the corner.

  Just thinking about something happening to Jason made a black aching rock settle in the pit of her stomach. She was glad he’d shown her how to handle a pistol, even though she suspected she’d already learned her way around a firearm sometime in her still-too-shadowy past.

  “Let’s get to work,” he declared, grabbing the laptop and motioning at the desktop computer. “I’ve already booted it up and signed you in.”

  Glad to have a distraction from her tumultuous thoughts, she took a seat and, after following his directions, pulled up the photo files. He’d labeled them by the month and year in which they’d been taken. “Which ones should I look at?” she asked. “I don’t want to duplicate your efforts.”

  “I think it’ll be good if we have time to cross-check each other,” he said. “Don’t worry about what I have or haven’t seen. They’re all filed by date. Examine the ones from the last six months. You start in April and go forward. I’ll start with this month and work backward. Look for anything that seems out of place.”

  “Can you be more specific?” she asked, not really clear on what would constitute out of place.

  His rueful smile made her mouth go dry. “Not really. The best I can explain is if you have the slightest thought that you see something out of place in a photo—a face, a vehicle, a situation that doesn’t belong—move that file to a new folder. Don’t overthink it, just move it and go on to the next pic. OK?”

  “OK.” Sounded easy enough. She clicked on the file folder marked April and got to work. A few files in, she found herself captivated. The photos were fascinating—many brutal and stark, dark and dismal testaments to the cruelty of life. But there were others so beautiful they made her ache. A child’s expectant smile, the love shining in a woman’s eyes as she gazed up at her man. A colorful and exotic flower, blooming in between stacks of rubble. Jason had a talent, she realized. With his photographs, he made her see the world in a completely different light.

  About an hour later, he got up to get something to drink and brought her a bottle of water. She thanked him without looking up from the computer monitor.

  They were both so focused on the task at hand that when the weather radio bleated its alert tone, they both jumped in tandem. A moment later, the metallic voice issued a severe weather alert—blizzard warning. Twelve to eighteen inches accumulation.

  Muttering under his breath, Jason rushed to the door and peered outside. Lucy followed. Heavy snow had already begun to fall, huge fat flakes making lazy spirals on their way to the ground. Right now, it looked beautiful, though she suspected so much might be dangerous.

  “I guess we should have caught the news,” Jason said, shaking his head. “We’ll likely be stuck here a few days, which is normal. These winter storms blow up quickly in this region. Luckily, we’re still well stocked with provisions. I think we’ll be all right, as long as you can stand the cabin fever.”

  His disgruntled tone made her laugh. “Hey, I can’t think of anyone I’d rather be stuck in a cabin with.”

  “Of course you can’t,” he shot back, one corner of his mouth twitching in a clear attempt not to smile. “You can’t remember anyone else.”

  Staring at him, for one second she wasn’t quite sure how to react. Maybe another time the truth would have hurt, but for now, she had to see the humor. She laughed again. “Good point,” she said dryly. “But for now, I stand by what I said.”

  “I’ll ask you again once your memory is back.” Just like that, he managed to kill her good mood. Sometimes, when she let herself relax, she felt normal. Not like a freak who didn’t even know her own name. The pressure to remember could zap all her strength if she let it. And she suspected Jason wouldn’t understand. How could he? What he’d said had only been the unvarnished truth. She had no idea what she’d be like when she knew everything about herself.

  She took a minute to ponder that, since it made no sense for the simple truth to make her feel bad. Why the feeling of pressure? More than anything, she wanted herself back. All of herself. Flaws, faults, the bad along with the good. Whoever she might be, she wanted to know that person.

  Yet she wanted Jason too, with every fiber of her being. Just thinking of a world without him in it made her feel sick.

  Staring at the photo on the computer monitor blindly, she couldn’t help but wonder what she would do once her memory returned. If she would turn out to be romantically unencumbered, would she still want to stay with him? Right now, she couldn’t help but feel as if their paths were destined to forever intertwine. Except she actually had no idea whether Jason felt the same way. And right now, with only a tiny portion of her memory returning, she didn’t have the right to ask him.

  Frustrated, she wondered if she ever would. Blinking, she looked around to see that Jason had already returned to his laptop. He caught her looking and smiled. “Might as well get back to work,” he said. “We aren’t going anywhere tonight. And I’m betting the satellite is out, so there won’t even be TV.”

  He was right. She took her seat in front of the desktop and clicked on the next file.

  An hour later, she yawned and stretched. She’d moved several files to the folder she’d designated as Questionable, though she had to admit she hadn’t seen anything earth-shattering.

  “Do you want to take a break?” Jason asked, raising his arms above his head as he performed his own stretch. “Maybe we should think about making something to eat.”

  She glanced at the clock. To her surprise, it was long past time for dinner. “I’ll fix something,” she said. “If you want to keep working, go ahead.”

  Already immersed in his work, he gave an absent nod.

  In the kitchen, she checked the fridge to see what meat had been thawed. A packet of ground hamburger sat on the shelf and she remembered she’d taken it out yesterday. They had onions, kidney beans, canned tomatoes, even some canned jalapeño pepper—in short, everything she needed to make a big pot of chili. How she remembered the recipe, she didn’t know. Instinct, maybe. Or perhaps she’d often made this in her murky past. Either way, she knew how.

  Humming under her breath, she got to work. Once she’d browned the meat and chopped the onion, she mixed together the other ingredients in a Dutch oven and let it simmer while she returned to the computer.

  “That smells good,” he said, glancing over the laptop to grin at her.

 
“Thanks. It needs to simmer a bit and then it’ll be ready to eat. That’ll give us time to get through a few more of these files.”

  He nodded absently, already immersed in his task. With a quiet sigh, she sat herself down and got back to work. The starkness and horror of some of the photos was in direct contrast with the occasional shots of beauty. Jason had managed somehow to find the shining amid the despair. An old woman sharing a loaf of bread with a child, a ragged-looking dog sleeping on a rock in the sun.

  If not for those, she didn’t think she could continue viewing. The reality of war and what people could do to each other sat like a black pit in her stomach. She couldn’t imagine what Jason must have felt like, actually being right there, seeing all of this firsthand.

  Tears stinging her eyes, she looked away from the computer, pushing to her feet and going to stir the chili.

  He got up and followed her. “What’s wrong?” he asked, almost as if she’d expressed her conflicting emotions out loud.

  She started to shrug and say nothing, but then decided to tell the truth. After all, he’d taken the photos. He had to be intimately familiar with the way viewing them would make her feel.

  Haltingly, she tried to explain. He listened, his expression tender, and then pulled her in for a long hug. “You don’t have to look at them anymore if it’s bothering you. I can do the rest of them myself.”

  She snorted, relishing the way she felt in his strong embrace. “I wouldn’t do that to you,” she said into his chest. “It’s just sad. I’m sure I’ll survive.”

  One kiss on top of her head and he let her go, watching as she stirred the chili. “That looks really good. Just the smell of it is making me hungry.”

  She turned off the burner and nodded. “Me too. I think it simmered long enough. Let’s eat.”

  Just then, the power went out, plunging them into darkness. The glow of the woodstove provided the only light. Jason got up and rummaged in one of the kitchen drawers and extracted a box of matches. “I’ve got a backup generator we can use if we need to. But for now, let’s eat by candlelight.”