Her face turned toward him, and if shooting daggers was a possibility, MacGyver would have been ducking.
“Think whatever you’d like.” Instead of delivering the verbal beating he’d braced for, Kellie slammed shut the window through which he’d finally managed to glimpse the real woman.
“Okay, if that’s the way you want to play it, but this conversation isn’t over.” Rather than diminishing his curiosity, the mystery of Kellie Greyson intrigued him. He wasn’t happy, however, that the topic had dampened their potential alliance. He’d need her cooperation—and hewantedher trust.
Kellie turned right on a driveway all but hidden from the road by young pines that grew haphazardly in the shadow of old-growth timber. Ahead, the brick-red bungalow revealed nothing of what was going on inside. No smoke curled from the tall, stone chimney. No windows were open, airing out stuffy rooms left closed up tight for far too long.
The graveled driveway ended at the side of the house, where a white Ford Taurus was parked. The door of a woodshed behind the cabin stood open. A wheel barrow, half filled with firewood, waited as though someone had walked away in the middle of his chore.
“Pop’s car is here. Chip should have announced us by now.” Kellie pulled behind the Taurus, letting the SUV idle.
“Chip?” MacGyver frowned. It was too damn quiet.
“Pop’s dog. A border collie. He’s really smart and protective of my stepdad.”
MacGyver retrieved the weapon he’d concealed under his thigh and shoved it in his waistband, making sure it was covered by his T-shirt. There was no guarantee Charlie and the man who’d called Kellie were inside, but standard operating procedure for anyone with enough chops to do Tony Palazzi’s wet work would be to shoot the dog first. One look in her eyes and MacGyver knew—she’d already thought of that.
Where Kellie had parked gave them an unobstructed view of the front, side and rear of the cabin. His gaze roved toward the tree line, where Blake and Travis would be waiting and watching. The sooner they got this part done, the sooner he could get the answers he needed from Kellie.
“Ready?” His hand closed around the door handle.
“Wait.” Kellie touched his arm. “He said to come alone. What if he kills you when you step out there? Getting Pop out alive is my problem. Let me do this.”
“Yeah, that’s not happening. Besides, I’d be dead now if he was set on killing me for crashing the party.” MacGyver grinned as he opened the door. “Don’t forget to take the safety off if you draw that gun.”
He stepped out quickly, chuckling at her exaggerated eye-roll. Circling the front of the vehicle, he stopped beside Kellie and surveyed the knee-deep grass swaying with the breeze, the overgrown brush and the curtained windows. Nothing moved. The hush was unnerving. No horns honking. No one playing music too loud. Certainly, no dogs barking. The perfect spot for a romantic weekend…or a murder.
“Stay close.” He waved her forward as he started for the rear of the house. The door was locked when he twisted the knob. Kellie searched beneath the rocks at the edge of the twelve-by-twelve raised wooden deck and soon came up with a key. She unlocked the door, and MacGyver followed her inside.
With weapons drawn, they checked the entire house, room by room. No sign of Kellie’s stepdad or Palazzi’s goon, who was supposedly holding him hostage. The dog was also absent, although a folded blanket on the floor by the fireplace seemed to indicate Chip had been present recently.
The cabin showed signs of neglect—a broken shutter here, stains where water had leaked in around the windows there. Dust covered most surfaces, but evidence that a family had once spent time in these rooms was everywhere. Pictures of smiling young girls fishing, canoeing, hiking with their parents. Childish artwork still clinging to the refrigerator. Love had lived here at one time.
MacGyver returned the gun to his waistband and scraped a hand over the back of his neck. “The caller must have changed locations after I spoke with him on the phone. You were right. I should have stayed out of it instead of giving away our game plan. I’m sorry, Kellie.” Damn it! He deserved an I-told-you-so rant, and if Charlie had been harmed because of his macho shit, MacGyver would kick his own ass.
Kellie raked a hand through her hair. “You’re not responsible. As much as I’d like to blame someone else for this mess, this one’s all on me. Besides,I’mthe target. Tony wantsme. Pop has only ever been Tony’s way of controlling me. Sooner or later, the dickhead he sent will have to show himself, and when he does, he better hope there’s not a hair out of place on Pop’s head.” Kellie shoved her weapon in her belt and turned away.
Wait a damn minute!Kellie impugning herself didn’t sit right with him. MacGyver caught up to her halfway back to the kitchen, turning her to face him.
“Palazzi is a small-time thug on a power play. If you want to blame someone…blame him. You made your views on marrying him clear when you lit out before the wedding. He chose to come after you. The guy must have one hell of an ego to think you’d go back to him after he threatened both you and Charlie.” Except ego didn’t come close to explaining why Tony was hot on her trail. If the lady had left MacGyver at the altar, he wasn’t going to save face by forcibly bringing her back. No. Something more than that was driving Tony. Like maybe the stolen money?
As though reading his mind, Kellie flinched. “There’s more to it than that.” Her gold-flecked irises dilated. It was a wonder those green orbs didn’t burn a hole right through him.
Shit!MacGyver swallowed hard, emotionally taking a step back. He didn’t want to hear she’d accepted Palazzi’s proposal so she could get close enough to steal from him. Didn’t want to believe she was a cold-hearted thief. Would he turn her in if she was?
“Wow, did the temperature just drop in here? In case you’re wondering, your poker face gave you away.” She stepped closer and laid her hand on his arm. “Judging by your shell-shocked expression, you’ve got it all wrong.”
MacGyver shook off her hand, barely noting the hurt that briefly flashed through her eyes. He tipped his chin toward the kitchen. “Let’s put on some coffee and get Travis and Blake in here. Then we’ll talk before this goes any further.” Striding away, he left her to follow on her own.
The table, counters and gas stove in the country kitchen appeared to have been recently wiped down. A service for one and a small fry pan rested in a dish drainer by the sink. A metal dog bowl, licked clean, hugged the wall near the back door. Everything else sported a thick layer of dust, and the faint aroma of bacon hung in the air.
MacGyver inspected the countertops and spotted the coffeemaker. A systematic search of cupboards turned up filters, but no grounds.
“Try the fridge.” Kellie still stood near the doorway between kitchen and living room.
He should have thought of that since his mother always kept the coffee in a sealed container in the refrigerator. Claimed it stayed fresher that way. Swinging the door wide, he peered inside. The condition of a home’s food reserves was always a good indicator of who was home and how long they planned to stay. This one had been cleaned recently and stocked with milk, bread, eggs and other staples. A jug of orange juice, assorted sodas and a half-rack of Bud Light chilled on the bottom shelf.
Charlie and I will get along just fine.MacGyver spotted the one pound coffee can in the door rack and reached to lift it out.