cover for the soft crunching of his and Lindsey’s boots in the snow.
They stilled beside the nearest window. After ensuring neither of the perimeter guards was doubling back, Todd focused his attention on the filtered bits of conversation. There were at least two voices, one deep, one much higher-pitched, most likely female. His brain perked up. Could they have found Megan?
Lindsey caught his gaze, her eyes bright with excitement.
Todd stared at his feet, trying to picture in his mind where the people were in the building and determine if they were the only ones inside. Gesturing Lindsey to stay put and keep an eye out, he crept around the backside of the cabin, past a narrow frosted window, and stopped on the other end of the house next to a window mostly covered by faded green curtains.
“This is fucking boring,” the woman said, her voice louder than from his previous position.
“What did you expect?” the man grumbled.
Holy shit. Pete. Todd’s body throbbed with adrenaline. He was ninety-nine percent sure.
Moving carefully but quickly, he returned to Lindsey. He pointed to himself and then to his eyes and the window. If the pair was facing the other direction as he suspected, they shouldn’t see him.
Revealing as little of himself as possible, he peered through a gap in the curtains. Inside, Pete lounged on a stained brown sofa with a TV remote in one hand and a beer in the other. Todd’s hands curled into fists and he had to force himself not to rush the door. A blonde sat at the other end of the couch with her legs curled under her and a paperback book in her hands. If it was Megan, she must not have been considered much of a flight risk. There was no sign of Pete’s gun, which likely meant he had it holstered. And his posture was relaxed as he watched the silent MMA fight playing out on the small television across from him.
Todd’s mind raced as he turned to scan for threats and let Lindsey take a look. Her friend had appeared unharmed, so she could probably get the woman to safety even if something happened to him. Even better, with the element of surprise, he might get the jump on Pete.
The only problem—one he’d been too distracted by Lindsey and their predicament to give serious thought to until now—was what to do with Pete after that. He couldn’t shoot the man in cold blood, regardless of the asshole’s history. He couldn’t drag the man down the mountain with them. He couldn’t hold him at gunpoint and call the police—basically his original plan—when the police were the enemy right now.
Todd glanced at Lindsey. Could Todd give up catching the man who’d murdered his cousin and nearly killed Todd’s best friend for her? To save her friend?
How were those even legitimate questions? He wasn’t in the killing business, he was in the saving business.
Fuck.
Lindsey retreated from the window, a mile-wide grin on her beautiful face that rendered him mute. She threw her arms around him and excitedly whispered in his ear, “It’s Meg!”
He hugged Lindsey tight and silently asked Bethany and Jason for forgiveness.
Lindsey could hardly stand still as she watched Todd line up in front of the cabin door. Megan was inside! But they had to get the jump on the guard, a man who appeared bigger and stronger than Todd. And probably meaner for good measure.
Her stomach threatened to reject her breakfast.
With a quick glance to ensure she was out of the line of fire as he’d instructed, Todd raised his foot and kicked the door, right next to the flimsy lock. None of the cabins had deadbolts, save the big one on the opposite end of the compound.
The door slammed open.
Meg yelped.
The man on the couch jumped and turned, reaching for something behind his back.
“Don’t fucking twitch, Pete!” Todd aimed his gun at the other man’s chest, his own stance solid, his face flushed but eerily calm.
Wait, did Todd know this guy?
Maybe he’d overheard the man’s name when he was eavesdropping outside. Reasonable, but unease hooked its claws into her skin.
“Drop your weapon and slide it away from you.”
The big man’s face turned red, but he set his shiny gun on the floor and kicked it toward Meg. “I heard you were sniffing around. You fixin’ to shoot me, Okie?” he asked, in a mocking accent. “One shout from me and you’ll be outnumbered.”
Okie? Either Pete had a knack for accents, or they knew