But it wasn’t the rain that concerned him.It was the cold the night would bring.The combination of the two could be deadly if they didn’t find someplace warm and dry to shelter for the night.
After carefully avoiding a thorny patch of vine-like shrubs, they emerged from the dense thicket and stopped dead in their tracks.
“Please tell me I’m not imagining that,” Sloane said.
“You’re not.”
Nestled between two massive trees, the building was little more than a shack.The green paint on the siding was chalky and faded, the peaked roof covered in rust.Two rocking chairs sat idle on the porch, while a hanging basket of ferns swayed with each gust of wind.Above the front door, a large wooden sign, bleached out by years of sun and rain, read LIVE BAIT, while a smaller sign in the window indicated the shop was open for business.
There were no vehicles in the gravel lot, but an old red pickup truck was parked along the side of the building, its bed loaded with scrap metal.
“Stay here,” Navarre said.“I’ll check it out.”
“Are you crazy?The last time we split up, I almost got assaulted by one of those goons.We’re doing this together.”
She wore that unmistakable expression—eyes narrowed, jaw set—that made it clear she wasn’t backing down.He respected that fire, and he understood her perspective, but he also worried about what might happen if things suddenly went south.
He opened his ruck, took out the merc’s gun, and handed it to her.“Just in case you need it.”
Without hesitation, she tucked the gun into one of the pockets of the oversized camo jacket he’d taken from the asshole who’d tried to assault her.“All right, let’s do this.”
The weathered boards creaked under their feet when they stepped onto the porch.Navarre opened the door and followed Sloane inside, all the while noting things such as cover, possible weapons, and the placement of exits.So far, he’d seen nothing out of the ordinary, but he knew better than to take anything for granted.
He placed one hand at the small of Sloane’s back as the door swung shut behind them.The air was heavy with the scent of aged wood and the distinct aroma of bait.Shelves, some sagging under the weight of merchandise, were filled with an assortment of fishing tackle, while glass tanks displayed a variety of fish, worms, and crickets.The walls were adorned with handwritten signs detailing bait prices, fishing tips, a few mounted fish, and faded photographs of prize catches that looked like they dated back to the 1980s.
An old, heavyset man sat behind the cash register, his nose buried in a book.He had to be in his mid to late seventies, with a puff of white hair and wire-rimmed glasses perched low on the bridge of his nose.Wearing a black T-shirt with a bass on the front, he glanced up at their approach and seemed surprised to see them there.He stood, set the book on the counter, and gave a smile that deepened the lines around his eyes and mouth.
“Good afternoon.How can I—” His smile slipped a notch or two as he stared at Sloane over the tops of his glasses.“You look really familiar.Do I know you?”
To her credit, Sloane kept her cool.“I don’t think so.I’ve never been around these parts before.”
“Are you sure?I could have sworn...”Recognition formed on the old man’s face as he snapped his fingers and pointed at her.“You’re Sierra Page, aren’t you?I heard you built a place up on Cooper’s Peak.”
For a split second, panic formed on Sloane’s face, but then she blinked and a sly smile wiped away all traces of anxiety.“All right, you got me.But please don’t tell anybody you saw me, okay?It’s nice to get away from the Hollywood scene and be with regular people, but it’s hard when folks find out who I am.”
The man nodded, as if that explained everything.“Your secret’s safe with me, ma’am.I swear I won’t tell a soul.”
“Thank you so much.I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”She extended her hand, and he shook it as though he were receiving royalty.
“Gus Stanton.Pleased to meet you.I’ve seen all your movies at least once.Well, except for that last one, ’cause it ain’t on video yet.”His Southern accent got thicker the longer he spoke.“If you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing out here?No offense, but it’s kind of late in the afternoon for fishing.”
Navarre settled back and kept watch of their surroundings, confident Sloane had the situation with Gus well under control.Hell, she practically had the guy wrapped around her pinky finger.
“I’m doing research for a new movie,” Sloane said.“If everything goes according to plan, we’ll start shooting early next year.”
“What kind of movie?”Gus asked.
“Action adventure.The bad guys try to kidnap my character, but I manage to escape into the mountains with nothing but the clothes on my back.From there, it’s a game of cat and mouse between me and them.”She glanced to Navarre.“My bodyguard has been teaching me things about roughing it in the forest.”
Damn, she was good.It was straight out of Lying 101: keep your story close to the truth so the lie was easier to remember.
And Gus fell for it hook, line, and sinker.“Oooh, that sounds exciting.Do you get to kick lots of butt like you do as the Deathslayer?”
“Not as much as I’d like, but that’ll change if I get my way.”She blasted him with a toothy smile, and the guy almost melted into a puddle.But then her expression turned serious.“All kidding aside, I was hoping you could help us.Our original plan was to hike all the way into town, but…” She sighed, her shoulders slumping.“We hadn’t counted on that storm rolling in.You wouldn’t happen to know anybody who could give us a ride, do you?I’d call one of my assistants, but the last thing I want to do is admit to them that we didn’t make it—”
“I can do it,” the old man blurted.“I’d be honored to give you a ride into town.Just give me a minute to change the sign on the door and lock up.”
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly ask you to go through all that trouble.”
