shooting the new gun, and making sure it was sighted in properly. He had one just like this Glock auto, also in 9mm, but it was stashed away in a storage unit on the outskirts of Missoula. He preferred the .40 cal to the 9mm for the extra knock-down power. But the 9mm version had higher capacity magazines, a nice trade-off for someone with decent shot placement and multiple targets.
Now he and Lori sat at a coffee shop in downtown Whitefish, he sipping a straight cowboy coffee and she cradling a fancy cappuccino between the palms of her hands.
âWhat?â she asked. âItâs cold out there.â
âThatâs not what I was thinking,â Jake said. âI was just wondering if you actually had some java in there somewhere under all the foam and toppings. What the hell is a triple skinny grande double latte extra hot with sugar free caramel, nutmeg and chocolate sprinkles?â
She pointed a finger at him. âHey, donât judge me.â
âAll right. I was going to question your Montana background until I saw you shoot today. Youâre a fair shot.â
âJust fair?â
âA good shot.â
âNot a Natty Bumppo like you, of course.â
âLook at you. Pulling out the James Fenimore Cooper.â
She set her coffee cup down and raised her right hand. âEnglish major. Guilty as charged.â
A muffled buzzing and then a song came from somewhere inside Jakeâs jacket. The tune was Donât Fear the Reaper by Blue Oyster Cult. Jake pulled out one cell phone and set it on the table and then found the right phone, saw who was calling, and pressed the screen to answer.
âYeah,â Jake said. He listened carefully, taking in what the caller was saying. In the end he simply said, âGot it. Thanks so much.â He hit End on the screen and shoved the phone back into his pocket.
âEverything all right?â Lori asked.
He wasnât sure how to answer that. It was more than all right. âYeah, itâs fine.â
âTwo phones? And I thought I was important.â
Jake put his hand on hers, his warmth feeling the sudden cold of her skin. âYou are, darling. And your hands are freezing.â
âTell me about it.â
They sat and stared at each other for a while. She was gorgeous. How had she managed to stay single?
She asked again, âIs everything all right?â
Jake was so used to working alone, or with others in the intelligence community, that he wasnât used to opening up with information. But something was different with Congresswoman Lori Freeman. She had the clearance and she had the need to know.
âYou have to be wondering why we havenât been looking for the scientist this morning,â he said.
She shrugged. âI guessed you had some method to your madness. Besides, where could we look?â
âExactly. That would normally be the case. But when I was kidnapped, I wondered how easily I was able to escape. This phone. . .â He spun his second phone on the table. âThey put a tracker on this phone.â
Lori looked concerned as she leaned across the table. She whispered, âYouâre kidding me. Are they tracking us here?â She hesitated. âCan they also hear us?â
âIâm sure theyâre tracking me. But they can only hear me when I talk on that phone.â
âWhy didnât you just destroy the tracking device?â
That was a good question. âI want them to come after me.â
âBut why?â
âI need to know whoâs after me. Whoâs behind this.â
âWonât they try to kill you again?â
âThey didnât try to kill me. They had me cold and could have killed me at any time.â
That realization seemed to send a chill through her. Lori leaned back into the booth and crossed her arms over her chest. âI hadnât thought of that.â Then she leaned forward again and said, âWho