Blake shrugged, and his attention swept back to MacGyver. “Doesn’t matter to me if you believe I’m on your side or not. Just tell me one thing. You’ve known me a long time, MacGyver. Doyouthink I’m the kind of man who’d side with a murdering, raping prick like Palazzi?”
MacGyver searched Blake’s facial expression and body language for any kind of tell that would give him away as a liar. He found none. Before this, MacGyver would have defended Blake’s loyalty, compassion and high moral values without question. If Kellie’s life wasn’t on the line. If Blake didn’t harbor a deep, dark secret that had made her uncomfortable in her own skin.
MacGyver shook his head. “No, I wouldn’t have thought that, until I saw you treating Kellie like she was the enemy. I’ve got one more question before I can answer yours.”
Blake grinned. “I figured you’d ask, though I’m a little surprised she hasn’t already told you.” He looked over his shoulder at the road that disappeared into the trees. “I’m going to be missed before long. They don’t trust me completely yet. What do you say we collect my surprise first? I thought you might be able to use an automatic Kalashnikov or two.”
“You’re shittin’ me! AK-47s? Ammo?” Travis strode with Blake across the road toward the spindly group of fir trees as though they were suddenly best buds.
MacGyver stayed where he was in front of the cabin, unfamiliar emotions swirling in his gut. Wanting to believe his friend had merely made the best of a bad situation. Needing to protect Kellie with his life, if necessary. If he turned, he’d see her watching from the window. Did she think he’d sold her out?
Travis’s and Blake’s footsteps crunched on the gravel as they returned across the road. Travis gripped an AK-47 in each hand, apparently oblivious to any pain from his wounded arm, and Blake carried an ammo box. Travis’s expression said he’d just found a new toy. “They’re full auto, Bro. We could hold off a fucking battalion with these babies.” He walked by MacGyver and into the house.
Blake stopped in front of him. “Can we go inside now? Makes me a little nervous standing out here in the open.”
Blake’s allegiance was still a question, but providing weapons like the ones Travis carried just increased their chances ten-fold. MacGyver swept a hand toward the porch and the door beyond, scrutinizing Blake as he followed Travis inside. He glanced toward the window, but Kellie wasn’t visible.
Stepping inside a few paces behind them, he closed the door, aware of the distrust not quite hidden by the silence in the room. Travis laid the weapons on the table, and Blake set the ammo box on the floor nearby. Jeremy was still stationed as look-out, and MacGyver tipped his head toward the window at the marshal’s questioning stare. They weren’t out of trouble yet.
“Where’s Kellie?” MacGyver faced her stepdad, who leaned against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed.
Charlie frowned. “She went to her room. Said she didn’t need to hear anymore. Think I’ll do the same.” He pushed away from the counter but stopped after a few steps. “You know, I woke that girl up more times than I could count, from nightmares she brought back from Iraq. It’s a damn shame the worst of them weren’t caused by the enemy.” He gave Blake a withering glare before withdrawing to his bedroom.
“Brrr! It’s cold in here!” Blake yanked a chair out and sat. “Worst part is I can’t blame him for being pissed off. Got any coffee?”
MacGyver poured the dregs from the carafe into a cup and set it in front of him. Charlie was a good man, and something told MacGyver he wasn’t going to like what Blake was about to say. He sat opposite him, leaning back, his long legs spread out in front and ankles crossed. He’d hear the man out. He owed him that much.
Travis had made himself scarce. MacGyver could just barely hear him talking with Jeremy. Obviously, he was trying not to crowd Blake, pretending not to listen, though MacGyver would bet he was. His distance meant the decision, whether to trust Blake or not, would be MacGyver’s.
“I’m listening.” MacGyver couldn’t disguise the tension in his voice.
“I’ll get to that, but first, I have information you need. You’ve been wondering how Palazzi found her? He bribed a guy at Perkins Field for my flight info. All he had to do was beat us here on his private jet and grab her when we landed.” A sly grin broke over Blake’s features. “I didn’t go into detail about what a difficult task that might have been, but that wasn’t good enough for him anyway. He needed leverage and a way to punish her for all the trouble she’d caused. He wanted Charlie too, and since he’d thought far enough ahead to plant a tracking device on Kellie, he followed her straight to the cabin.”
“Where’s the tracker?” MacGyver leaned forward. He’d gotten rid of her phone and hadn’t questioned anything else. Not that she had a hell of a lot with her when he found her—just a small clutch. It must be hidden in the fabric.
“He gave her a wedding gift—some jewelry. Said it cost him a fortune, and it was worth every penny.”
Shit! The diamond necklace and earrings!MacGyver had forgotten she had them after he’d dropped them in her clutch. He shot to his feet with a groan.
“Hold on. The damage is done. If you’re satisfied I’m telling the truth when we’re done here, you can destroy it, or I’ll take it with me and drop it in the lake. I assume you know you can’t stay here. They’re only waiting for dark to make their move. You’re out-numbered, and, until just a minute ago, out-gunned.”
MacGyver didn’t need Blake to tell him they were seriously fucked if they stayed here. The maps, still partially covering the table, had probably tipped him off to the fact they were leaving, but MacGyver still didn’t trust him enough to give away their plan.
He took his seat again, trying hard to control his anger. “Tell me something I don’t know, Blake.”
The two of them stared at each other for several seconds, until Blake dropped his head and scraped his hands over the past few days’ worth of whiskers on his face. “You remember my kid brother. Right?”
MacGyver nodded. “Christian.” The kid had joined the Army on his eighteenth birthday, though Blake had tried like hell to convince him the Navy was the way to go. He’d done all right, though, and Blake had been damn proud of him. MacGyver had met Christian at the hospital after Blake’s chopper went down four years ago.
Where was Blake going with this?
His friend looked him in the eyes, and there was something so devastating in his gaze that MacGyver instinctively braced himself. “Did you know he’s paralyzed?”
MacGyver’s stomach lurched. “Aw, hell. What happened?”
“A young Marine corporal by the name of Kellie Bowman, aka Kellie Greyson, shot him.”
“Fuck!” Suddenly, the animosity between Blake and Kellie made sense.