Murder on the Mountain by Cassie Miles

Author:Cassie Miles
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2006-10-14T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

The smallest room on the first floor of the safehouse was a library with several shelves of well-worn books and a couple of comfortable looking armchairs. In the center of the room was a square table and four sturdy wooden chairs that looked like they’d been stolen from a high school. A huge dictionary lay open on a lectern beneath the window. It wasn’t the most comfortable room in the house but one of the most private—a good place for Paul and Julia to have a talk with Gil Bradley.

When Paul lowered himself into one of the hard wooden chairs and stretched his long legs out in front of him, he realized how tired he was. It had been a hell of a long, stressful day. His limbs felt heavy, weighted down with exhaustion. And his forearm ached where he’d blocked the jab that Gil had aimed at his Adam’s apple. If that blow had connected, Paul’s windpipe might have been crushed. He looked across the table at the former Navy SEAL.

In spite of the fact that Gil was the one who said he wanted to talk, words weren’t pouring through his tight lips. He leaned forward in his chair, elbows resting on the tabletop in front of him, tense from head to toe. Cold intelligence gleamed through his squinted eyes.

Paul spoke first. “John Maser. You knew him.”

“A jerk,” Gil said. “A wannabe mercenary who didn’t have the guts to pull it off.”

“He was convicted of fraud,” Paul pointed out. “So he must have done something.”

“Lying. He was good at that.”

“What about weapon smuggling? We have information indicating he was involved with the Lone Wolf survivalists.”

Gil gave a snort. “Smuggling weapons to Wyoming? That’s like smuggling milk to Wisconsin.”

“Hey,” Julia interrupted. “I’m from Wisconsin. Let’s not pick on my home state.”

Her attempt to lighten the mood fell flat. Paul was too tired to respond, and Gil had no sense of humor.

“My point,” Gil said, “is that guns—even high-powered weapons—are relatively easy to come by in Wyoming. It’s a hunting state.”

Paul cut to the chase. “Was Maser coming here to see you?”

“No way. I met with Maser about three years ago, decided he was a poseur and didn’t want anything more to do with him. He was, however, on the CIA watch list. Probably on the FBI list, too.”

Which meant that RJ Katz and David Dillard might also be acquainted with him. It was entirely possible that every person staying at the safehouse knew Maser—a circumstance that irritated Paul. Each of these people had looked him in the eye and denied knowledge of John Maser.

He glanced toward Julia. Did she know? Was this another lie she’d told him?

Leaning forward in his chair, Paul matched Gil’s aggressive posture. “Were you aware that Maser was in this area?”

“No.”

“Did you kill him?”

“Hell, no.”

“Why should I believe that? You already lied to me about knowing him.”

“If I’d taken him out, it wouldn’t be a sloppy kill. There’d be no details for you to investigate.”

That

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