Close To Danger (Westen #4)(21)

“And what if we get stranded?”

“Not going to happen.”

A powerful gust of wind picked that moment to hit the back of the SUV, lurching it forward and covering the windshield with snow like someone had emptied a dump truck on top. Wes took his foot off the gas and fought to keep the vehicle from skidding off the road into a ditch.

At a complete stop, he took a deep breath, dropped the engine into a lower gear and started driving forward again. “Don’t say it,” he muttered just loud enough for her to hear.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she said.

He chanced a glance her way, long enough to see her lips quiver. Not tears or fear. He was pretty sure she was trying not to laugh.

For the next thirty miles their progress was slow, due as much to the wind swirling the snow so thick it was like trying to drive through New England clam chowder. The road was hard to maneuver, but since they seemed to be the only ones on the highway, he drove down the center of the two lanes, the headlights on bright, the windshield wipers keeping a steady rhythm. Inside the SUV, the only noise was the light jazz music and the occasional weather alert, advising people to seek shelter to wait out the storm.

“Do you think we should get off the highway somewhere?” Chloe asked after thirty minutes had passed.

“Nothing between here and the outskirts of Westen,” he said, rubbing his free hand over the tense crick that had formed in the back of his neck. “But we aren’t going that far.”

“Where do we turn off the highway to your cabin?”

“Keep your eye open for a sign that says cemetery,” he said.

“Seriously? Cemetery?”

“Yep. It will be on your side of the road after a forty-five degree turn.”

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to see it in this stuff.”

“It’s green with florescent lettering so it can be seen at night.”

“Whose idea was that?”

“Harriett’s.”

“And who is Harriett?” she asked, sounding a little more relaxed.

Glancing over, he was pleased to see her intently watching out her window for the sign. The woman might have a bit of a stubborn streak, as well as a sassy mouth, but she definitely knew how to follow instructions when they were important. That might be just the trait that would keep her alive if the stalker somehow found them.

Before he could answer her question, she pointed up ahead. “There it is!”

He eased his foot onto the brakes, giving just enough pressure to slow the SUV for the turn onto the road leading to the river cabins, but not enough to send them into another slide. Once they were on the road, he shifted the SUV from second to third gear, feeling a little more traction as they headed down the country road.

“If it weren’t so scary traveling through a blizzard, I’d love how beautiful this is,” Chloe said, her voice almost whispery with awe.

He had to admit he agreed with her. The road snaked through the forested section of the county that flanked both sides of the creek that fed into the Mohican River. The trees towered overhead, limbs almost bare of leaves, the snow and ice clung to them overhead, forming a tunnel up ahead, the only light coming from his headlights on the snowy ground. He prayed none of the trees had collapsed under the weight of the ice and snow, blocking the road before they got to his cabin.

He slowed the SUV even more as they made the ninety-degree turn that marked the road to his place about fifty feet further down the road.

“Almost there,” he said, stretching his fingers to relax the tense grip he’d had on the wheel.

Florescent strips on a black post, shone in the headlight beam.

“What’s that?” Chloe asked.

“Marker to my place,” he said, easing the SUV into the drive and dropping the gear to second, hoping to get up the slight rise without slamming into any trees or the drop off on the side of the road. At least they were within walking distance if they did.

“Let me guess, Harriett suggested that, too,” Chloe said.

“Yep,” Wes said, maneuvering the vehicle to the right as the cabin visualized in the headlight beams. They came to a stop and he put the car in park. Exhaling in a huff as his body finally relaxed.

After a few seconds, Chloe turned in her seat to smile at him. “I’ll have to thank this mysterious Harriett when I meet her. She must’ve been a girl scout.”

Wes shook his head. “More like CIA.”

“Really?” Chloe’s eyes widened with curiosity.

“That’s the general rumor about town.”

“Well, now I really have to meet her. What’s her story?” She smiled at him and the genuineness of it warmed him better than the heater in the SUV had.

“How about we get you and our stuff inside the cabin. And I’ll tell you what I know.”



*



The slashed tires had done the trick.

Strong was headed back to Westen. Back to his comfort zone. Soon, he’d get what he deserved.

The wind and snow picked up. Time to find a place to wait out the storm.

Laughter filled the car as it pulled into the motel just off the interstate south of Columbus.

What was the old phrase?

Vengeance is a dish best served cold.





CHAPTER EIGHT