“Jake, I don’t want you hurt.”
An emotion she couldn’t quite identify flickered in his eyes, but it was gone so quickly she didn’t have time to examine it. “I’m going to call Ronald,” he said. “He’ll probably have to get this okayed by his editor. But he may be able to get something in the Investigator tomorrow.”
Unclipping his cell phone from his belt, he rose. Before even realizing she was going to move, her hand snaked out, her fingers wrapped around his arm. “Are you sure about this?” she asked.
“I want him off the street before he hurts even more people.”
Standing on tiptoe, she leaned close and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for being so willing to put yourself on the line for me.”
“You did it for us six years ago,” he said.
Her face was only a few inches from his. She could see the dark shadow of two-day-old whiskers. Feeling a swirl of dizziness, she stepped back.
For a moment his gaze searched hers.
Then without another word he turned and headed up the companionway, dialing his phone as he went.
Chapter Thirteen
Ronald Waite arrived at nine o’clock sharp. “Ahoy!”
Leigh had just made coffee when she heard the greeting. Six years of being in hiding had made her skittish when it came to strangers. But one look at the grin on Jake’s face as he started toward the companionway, and she knew the man who’d approached the boat was a friend.
In the galley she set coffee and cups on the table. Up on deck she could hear the men talking and laughing and she slowly began to relax. A few minutes later the two men descended the companionway.
“You didn’t tell me she was beautiful.” Smiling, Ronald Waite stuck out his hand.
Leigh couldn’t help it—she smiled back as she took his hand. “Thanks for coming,” she said.
With a head of bright-red hair and a ruddy face covered with freckles, the reporter was not what she’d expected. He wore a blue parka with a faux-fur collar. She guessed his age to be about forty.
Five minutes later they were seated at the table with bagels and steaming cups of coffee.
“You’re staying here on the boat?” Ronald asked.
“For now,” Jake said. “I don’t want to stay at any one place too long.”
“I’ve been thinking about this plan of yours.” Ronald sipped his coffee. “I think it will work.”
“Logistics might be a problem,” Jake said.
“And whether or not Rasmussen will bite,” Leigh added.
Ronald reached across the table and patted her hand. “He’ll bite, honey. Trust me.”
“I need a remote location for a meet,” Jake said. He looked at Waite. “What I need from you is to reveal Leigh’s alleged location. That’s where Rasmussen will show. And that’s where I’ll be waiting for him.”
Waite helped himself to a bagel. “I can help you with both. I’ve got a cabin a hundred miles north of here, in the Upper Peninsula. I take my wife and kids up there a couple of times a year. My brother-in-law has a cabin just across the lake from ours, about three miles away.”
“Remote?” Jake asked. “I don’t want any civilians around.”
“No neighbors for miles. The closest sign of civilization is a gas station ten miles away.”
Jake nodded and glanced at Leigh. “Here’s how we’ll work it. We stash you in the cabin across the lake.” He looked at Waite. “I’ll hole up in your cabin. You reveal Leigh’s location in the Investigator. Don’t make it too easy for Rasmussen. Give just enough information for him to figure things out.”
Leigh didn’t like the way Jake was laying this out. There were so many things that could go wrong. “Jake, you’re talking about going to a remote location and taking on a violent man who has a small army to back him up. You can’t do this completely on your own. You’re going to need support in case something goes wrong.”
“I’ve got a friend I can call,” he said.
“Who?”
He stared at her, saying nothing.
“One of the agents from MIDNIGHT?”
Jake turned his attention back to Ronald Waite. “How quickly can you put this story together?”
“I already obtained permission from the city desk manager. I can write it this afternoon when I get back and have it into tomorrow’s edition.”
RONALD WAITE DEPARTED fifteen minutes later, leaving a map and directions to both cabins with Jake. By noon Jake and Leigh were back in the truck and on the road heading north into Michigan’s upper peninsula.
Forced to stick to the back roads, they arrived at the cabin at dusk. Leigh found the scene to be as picturesque as any she had ever seen. A log cabin nes tled in the woods, the boughs of the firs and spruces heavy with snow. The cabin had a river rock chimney jutting into a slate-gray sky.
“Nice place,” Leigh commented.