Frank took a step toward the door but then had to cover his eyes when he was blinded by the world's brightest flashlight.
"Drop the poker," a deep male voice commanded.
Frank obeyed when he heard the click of a revolver hammer.
"Typical," Joe groused, inhaling a piece of pizza as he lounged with one foot over the armrest of a chair in Callie's hotel room. "You get to sit in an office chair all day while I mop and clean up trash."
Callie smirked from her cross-legged position on her bed. "Maybe if you'd given Mills the right answers you wouldn't have been demoted." She patted her pizza slice with a napkin.
"I doubt that would have changed anything." Joe said with his mouth full. "It's not surprising that the young guy hired the pretty girl to work with him all day."
Callie rolled her eyes. "You're just a sore loser, but thanks for finally admitting I'm pretty."
"It was never your looks that annoyed me." Joe burped and gazed out the window. "There's something about Mills that doesn't sit right with me. I get the feeling he's hiding something. If you have to romance Mills to get the information we need, it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make."
A greasy balled-up napkin struck Joe in the face.
"Is that the reason you thought I would be able to help? Because of my 'feminine charms'?" Callie demanded, her fingers forming air quotes.
"Yeah, obviously," Joe said, his facial expression implying how stupid he thought the question was. "Torture isn't nearly as effective as a good-looking woman at getting information out of men. Didn't you see those videos of that CNN producer?"
Callie sighed and flopped back on her stack of pillows. "I'm getting ready for bed. See you later."
Joe grimaced. His genuine look of anguish made Callie giggle.
"Are you really that upset at me kicking you out?" she asked.
"It's not that," Joe said, getting to his feet. "My dad snores like a bear."
Frank released his grip on the iron poker, and it hit the floor of the cabin with a bang.
"Who are you, and what are you doing in my elk cabin?" the voice asked.
Frank squinted into the light, but he couldn't make out anything over the glare.
"We're sightseers," Frank lied. "Our Cessna had engine trouble, and we had to bail. We found this cabin when we were about to freeze to death. That's our parachute in the window."
The flashlight remained on Frank and Vanessa for a second before the man pointed it at the floor as he returned his revolver to his holster.
"We seem to be having an epidemic of plane crashes lately," the man said. "Sorry to hear about yours. You two the only ones on it?"
Vanessa and Frank nodded. As Frank's eyes recovered, he got a better look at the man standing in the cabin. He looked like Kid Rock's younger brother with his long straight brown hair, wispy beard, and mountain-man fringed jacket.
"The name's Tortoise," he said, extending a hand to Frank who shook it before he had time to process the man's odd name.
"I'm Frank, and this is Vanessa."
She shook Tortoise's hand.
"This is my ranch," Tortoise explained. "I do private guided hunts for city folk out here. We use this cabin sometimes. Lucky for you, I always keep it stocked."
"It saved our lives," Frank said. "I'm afraid I can't pay you back immediately. All our money was in the plane."
"Nonsense," Tortoise said, waving off the suggestion. "Glad to help. I skied up here when I saw smoke coming out of the chimney. I'll go back to the main house and bring a snowmobile up after I let them know you're coming. You know how to drive one?"
"I do."
"Sounds good; I'll be right back."
As Tortoise left to ski back to his house, Frank and Vanessa looked at each other and smiled before embracing in relief. Vanessa squeezed Frank tightly as he felt the stress and tension melt away in the euphoria of rescue. They pulled back to look at each other but continued the hug. Frank stared into Vanessa's eyes, which were barely below his due to her height. He felt his body unconsciously lean in, and hers did the same. Their lips briefly met. Vanessa quickly pulled away.
"I'm so sorry," Frank immediately apologized.
"Why did that just happen?" Vanessa asked. "Why did we do that?"
Frank put his hands above the mantel and leaned over the fireplace. "It's like I was saying at the airport. Emotionally charged situations reduce inhibitions. We had all this pent-up anxiety and, when it was suddenly released, it had to find an outlet."
Vanessa chewed on her lip and slowly nodded. "It was my fault too. Forget about it. We've released our mortal tension and now it's done." She gestured with her hands like she was signaling an incomplete pass before changing the subject. "Why did you lie to Tortoise?"
"I didn't know if he was with the bomber." Frank answered. "With the parachute, I couldn't think of any other good explanation for our being here, but I didn't want him to know we were on the plane."
"Do you think he could be working with the bomber?"
Frank shook his head. "Could be, but he doesn't seem the type."
The sound of an approaching motor indicated Tortoise was arriving with the snowmobile. Frank used the poker to spread out the remaining embers. Tortoise and Frank picked up the cabin and nailed plywood Tortoise had brought over the window. When the fire was extinguished, Tortoise locked the door and took his skis off the snowmobile.
"Just follow the trail, can't miss it." Tortoise called out as Frank started the engine and Vanessa climbed on behind him. Frank wished her arms around him didn't feel so good. He drove the craft back down the trail Tortoise had made coming up, weaving around rocks and trees with the aid of the headlights. About twenty minutes later, the trail ended at the entrance to a machine shed. Frank parked and walked with Vanessa to the house. The large wooden building was surrounded by a thick grove of pine trees. A light shone above a side door.
"Should we go inside without Tortoise?" Vanessa asked.
"I don't think he'll mind," Frank said.
"I can't wait to take a shower," Vanessa exclaimed.
"You'll have to after I beat you to it," Frank teased.
Vanessa sniffed. "Actually, I take it back. You need it more."
Frank laughed as he pushed open the unlocked door to reveal a mud room furnished with boot scrapers and shoe racks.
"Hello?" Frank called as he walked into the kitchen after removing his shoes.
Frank glanced to his side to see a man eating a bowl of ice cream at the counter. The man looked up and made eye contact with Frank. It was the bomber.