Wyoming Mountain Escape by Laura Scott (types of ebook readers .TXT) 📗

wasn’t bleeding. Horrified to realize the bullet had come so close she’d felt the heat of it zipping past her skin.

She took a moment to thank God for yet again keeping her safe. It seemed the Lord was working overtime with her.

And she appreciated His grace and protection.

Along with Duncan. She glanced at him, his handsome features already imprinted in her mind. He’d reacted instantly to the sound of gunfire, charging toward her, putting himself in danger once again to rescue her.

Duncan was a man of honor. A man of his word. She trusted him in a way she wasn’t sure she’d ever trust another man.

She tore her gaze away and tried to focus on the present. The idea of doing something to escape this mess was appealing.

Sitting around doing nothing while waiting for the next bullet to hit its mark wasn’t productive. She wanted to do her part in finding the man who’d murdered Brett.

In her mind’s eye, she cast her memory back to the last time she’d seen Brett with the honeymoon folder. It had been a yellow folder, because yellow was her favorite color. She’d been charmed by his choice at the time. Now she was just annoyed.

He’d use a yellow file folder because it was her favorite color, but not tell her he’d witnessed a murder that was likely linked to organized crime. Yeah, how was that for twisted?

She tried to shake off the bits of anger that kept floating to the surface. Brett was dead. He’d paid the ultimate price for his mistakes.

Time to get over it, already.

Chelsey closed her eyes and tried to bring the memory into focus. She’d been in her office, finishing up a call with the florist when Brett had ducked his head in, his smile dazzling. He’d had the yellow file folder in his hand, tapping it idly against the door frame as he waited for her to finish.

“Everything okay, Chelsey?”

“It will be. The florist doesn’t have enough yellow roses so I’ll have to have white intermixed with the yellow. No big deal, though. What’s up?”

“Just wanted to say I love you.” Brett’s smile faded when his cell phone rang. “Do you mind if I take this quick?”

“Sure.” He came farther into her office, slid the yellow folder on the edge of her desk beneath several other file folders as he stepped away to take the call.

“Yeah, I know he’s been AWOL for a while, but I’m sure he’ll turn up, he always does.” There was a pause before Brett said, “Of course, I can take over his projects but not until after my wedding and honeymoon. You know how it is, gotta keep the wife happy.”

“Chelsey?” Duncan’s tone pulled her from her thoughts. The way he was looking at her made her realize she must have been ignoring him for a while.

“Yes?”

“You okay?” Duncan’s tone was full of concern.

“Yes, why?”

“You were staring off into space, frowning.” Duncan put his hand on her shoulder and she couldn’t stop herself from reaching up to cover it with hers. The warmth from his palm seemed to radiate down to her bones. “Bad memory?”

It was disconcerting the way he read her so well. “Not bad, necessarily, but I just remembered a call Brett took while we were in my office. He had the honeymoon folder with him, and he tucked it beneath a bunch of my files before moving away to take the call.”

“You think it’s still on your desk?”

She shrugged. “I don’t see why it wouldn’t be. It was the day before the wedding and we were heading out soon for the rehearsal dinner? But that’s not all, Brett made a comment about a guy being AWOL.”

“AWOL is a military term for absent without leave,” Duncan said thoughtfully.

“Yes, then he said something like, of course he’d be happy to take over the guy’s projects, but not until after the wedding and honeymoon.” She didn’t add the part about keeping his wife happy, because really it only showed just how clueless Brett was about her feelings. How happy would she have been after the wedding? Not very. She focused on the tidbit of information she’d overheard. “Do you think the guy that went AWOL is the same man who was murdered?”

“It’s possible Brett was referring to Roland Perry,” Duncan admitted. “The name doesn’t ring a bell?”

She slowly shook her head. “No. I remember Brett talking about Kenny Martin, and frankly I assumed that was who he spoke to that day he mentioned the guy going AWOL. But nothing about a Roland Perry.”

Duncan gave her shoulder a little squeeze. “Keep up the good work, Chelsey. You’ve remembered the yellow folder, seeing photographs in there, and this latest conversation Brett had about someone going missing. I’m sure there are other fleeting memories that you’ve picked up along the way.”

“Yeah. Too bad I don’t have one of those eidetic memories,” she said with a sigh. “That would come in handy right now.”

“Good news, I just heard from my buddy Colt Nelson. He’ll be here in about an hour with more supplies, like a computer and weapons, along with a nice SUV with tinted windows,” Slade informed them.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Duncan said, releasing her shoulder to turn toward Slade. “I’d like better odds than what we’ve been dealing with so far.”

Chelsey frowned. “We already have the two of you against the shooter.”

Duncan rubbed the back of his neck in a way that told her he had bad news. Before she could remind him of his promise not to lie to her, he said, “I think there’s at least two men out there watching us, maybe three.”

“Three?” Her pulse jumped and she tried to remain calm.

“Two for sure,” Duncan said firmly. “The shooter was stationed to watch the back door, maybe waiting for us to let our guard down long enough to go outside. If he’s up in a tree on the mountain, how did he see us come inside through the front door? There has