the car at the end of the driveway and turned toward her. Her jaw was set at a stubborn angle and her lips were pressed together. He had to give her something or she might bolt, and Mary Grace Ramsey was the only lead he had at the moment. His gut told him Bobby could lead him to the people who were after him and Finn.
All the evidence he had accumulated so far involved Bobby Lancaster, but the geeky young man just didn’t fit the profile of a killer, which is why Ned had been trying to lure the bad guys to his mountain.
He’d soon find out where the CIA’s computer wonder boy had holed up. At this point, he didn’t care who he tipped off. Bobby had gone on the lam recently, and the ambush had happened six months ago, but it had taken Ned four months to get Finn settled, make sure he was okay and then lay his trap for their enemies. Prior to this, he’d stayed on his mountain between missions. No one in town knew when he slipped away and returned because of his hermit-type lifestyle, and he’d made sure no one knew he was related to his sister and niece because danger might follow him from current or previous missions. As far as the townspeople and anyone he worked with knew, he was all alone in the world.
Bobby must have been alerted by something, or found himself in a tight spot and took off. His gut told him that Bobby had to be involved because he’d fed Ned and Finn the bad intel that placed them in danger. Whether it was voluntary or involuntarily, well, that was yet to be determined.
“It’s classified.” She snorted, and he rushed to add, “Fine, I spent some time in the military a while back. You can trust me.”
She didn’t even respond to his admission of a small part of his past, instead she started typing on her phone.
“What are you doing?”
She lifted her head and gave him a challenging grin. “It’s over two thousand miles to Georgia. You wanna drive or fly?”
He was onto her game. To fly, a person had to present identification. He grinned back and whipped out an encrypted satellite phone. He tapped in a number and held the phone close to his ear. There were two clicks, and he knew his contact was listening. “I need the private plane in Jackson Hole, pronto, headed to—” He looked at Mary Grace and almost laughed out loud at the stunned expression on her face.
“Waycross, Georgia,” she answered through gritted teeth.
“Waycross,” he repeated into the phone. “We’ll be at the airport in thirty minutes. No paperwork.”
He put his phone away and turned left out of his sister’s driveway.
Mary Grace settled into her seat and kissed her dog on top of the head. He felt a mood shift in the car. It was almost as if he could sense her switching gears in that agile brain of hers. He liked the challenge of matching wits with her. He’d always appreciated beautiful women, but it was the smart ones who held his attention, and Mary Grace had proven to be very intelligent.
“Why Georgia?”
“That’s where we grew up for the most part, at my grandmother’s house.” She turned toward him, as much as her seat belt would allow. “Unlike you, I have nothing to hide. Bobby and I were both born and raised in Georgia. My father passed away when I was twelve. My mom remarried quickly—way too soon for decency—and Bobby became my little brother. I was a little over thirteen and he was eight years old at the time. I helped take care of him.”
She twisted back around and became interested in the passing scenery as she continued, “Bobby and I spent most of our youth at Gram Ramsey’s house. We had what everyone now refers to as a dysfunctional family. Our parents were, and still are, pretty much gambling addicts. They traveled a lot and we stayed at my grandmother’s house.”
This time the chatter was laced with an undertone of hurt and regret and it made Ned even more curious about Mary Grace. But he clamped down on the sudden protective instinct that rose to the surface as she matter-of-factly discussed a childhood that had to have been fraught with heartache.
He empathized with her pain more than he wanted to and it was time to get the conversation back on track. He had to find Bobby.
“Why would Bobby go to Georgia? If his family lives there, that’s the first place anyone would look for him.”
Relief hit him full force when he glanced at her. The right side of her mouth kicked up and the challenge was back in her eyes.
“You ever been to a swamp, Mountain Man?”
He had fought the enemy plenty of times in a swamp, but decided to let her win this round. For some foolish reason—a reason he didn’t examine too closely—he wanted to see the now-familiar smirk back on her face.
His hands relaxed on the steering wheel as he turned onto the road leading to the airport. “There’s a first time for everything.”
After waving his hand at the guy at the gate, he pulled onto the tarmac right up next to the plane.
Mary Grace gave him an incredulous look. “You can’t just drive onto the tarmac without permission, and don’t we need to go inside and see about the car return and go through security?”
He grabbed her hand, stopping her. “The car will be taken care of and we don’t need to go through security. Stay close to me until we’re on the plane.”
She stared at him for a full minute, then pulled her hand away, her eyes narrowing. “Is this legal? Am I going to end up in jail?”
He couldn’t help it, he grinned through his beard. “Everything is legal, and no, you won’t end up in jail.”
She stared at him a moment longer. “Who are you?” she asked, then grumbled, “Never mind. I’m sure it’s classified.”
She didn’t sound as if she believed him, but after he called Krieger, she and TB did follow him onto the tarmac toward the plane. He stopped halfway there when the fine hair on his nape rose. Mary Grace ran into his back and he pulled her under his arm. Smart woman that she was, she didn’t fight the maneuver.
“What is it?” she asked, her voice muffled under his heavy fleece jacket.
“Stay close to me and run when I say go.”
The instinctual warning system that had saved his life on more than one occasion was screaming a red-hot alert. He took two more steps, moving them closer to the plane before he gave a quiet command. “Go. Now.”
Mary Grace shot out from under his arm, clamored up the steps and barely got through the door before Ned heard a ping on the steps leading into the plane. He took a giant leap forward and slipped into the plane before the sniper could take another shot. Unfortunately, he still didn’t know whom they were shooting at—him or Mary Grace. The bullet could have been meant for either one of them. But the one thing he was sure of was that they needed to get out of there before the sniper found a way to ground them...and finish the job.
Mary Grace’s heart thundered ominously inside her chest as she cleared the open door of the plane. Someone had shot at her. Again! A dangerous mixture of fear, adrenaline and fury had her whirling around as soon as she got safely away from the door. She released an undignified oomph when she hit a rock-solid wall of muscle. Ned hissed out a frustrated breath as she slammed into his chest, then caught her by the arms when she bounced off.
Tinker Bell yelped inside the dog carrier strapped to Mary Grace. Horrified she might have injured her dog, she lifted her from the pouch and held her high. Krieger whimpered at Mary Grace’s feet and the tiny dog responded with a half-felt snarl.
Assured her dog was okay, Mary Grace took a relieved breath and placed her on the floor of the plane, then allowed both the dog carrier and the backpack to slide off her shoulders onto the carpet. Jerking her gaze toward Ned, she looked up, way up, and snarled herself. She felt as tiny as her dog standing in front of