Montana Fire (29 page)

“Not necessarily, honey. If you didn’t feel him place the drive in your pocket, he
might have thought the observer only saw him help steady you.”

“I hope so.”

“We need to take a look at what’s on here,” he said.

“Do you have one here? My computer’s at Hanks.” Her heart was pounding harder than
ten jack hammers.

“No, but I know where we can use one. Get dressed. There’s an Internet café a few
towns over. We’ll be safe there.”

She liked the word “safe,” but there was an undercurrent of anxiety that threatened
to push her panic button. Jamie shoved back her chair and dashed into the bedroom
to bundle up. Getting out twice in one day was a real treat, but only if it was for
fun.

Max was waiting for her when she stepped back into the main room.

“Ready?” he asked.

He seemed to ask that a lot. “As much as I can be.”

Max hugged her. “I know it’s tough, but there’s no way they can know Hank and I have
switched vehicles.”

“What if they come after Hank and force the answer out of him?” Putting anyone in
danger would cause her endless guilt.

“He’s tougher than he looks.”

“Easy for you to say. You won’t be the one facing those terrible men. They have guns.
Remember they shot and killed Yolanda.”

He waved the drive. “Maybe there’s nothing on this.”

“You don’t believe that.”

He locked up and led her to the camper. “Doesn’t matter what I believe. We both need
to relax. Acting nervous at the café will only make people talk. We’re visitors. People
will notice us more.”

She’d been to small towns like that before. He said the café was only a few towns
over, but in Montana that could be miles. “How far away is this Internet café?” Jamie
hopped up in and secured her seatbelt.

“Twenty minutes maybe. Kind of depends on whether the roads have been cleared or not.”
On the way down to Hank’s store, Max kept quiet. From the way his cheeks were moving,
he was thinking. “I’m betting Vic planned on retrieving the flash drive from you the
next day, with you none the wiser.”

She blew out a breath. Max always was able to see the glass half full. His background
in law enforcement gave him a good perspective. “I hope that’s true.”

For the next few minutes, she let her mind wander over to the other events that had
recently occurred to see if in light of this new evidence, she might figure something
else out.

Jamie sat up and twisted toward Max. “Remember, I mentioned that I gave Becky a present
in front of Banner’s Bar?”

He glanced at her. “What about it?”

“It was a small pin. The box might have been two inches by one inch at the most. I
slipped it out of my coat pocket and handed it to her. While we were standing outside
the bar door, another friend came toward us, and Becky slipped it in her pocket. Could
the man in the baseball cap have seen me pass something to her? Did he think it might
have been the flash drive? Is that why he followed her?”

Max’s lips lifted slightly. “I think you should be a cop. You have good instincts.
We may never know, but it is logical.”

“I can do logical sometimes, but I’m more comfortable with the emotional half of my
brain.”

Max reached out and rubbed her leg. “I like that there are two sides to you.”

Max had such a wonderful calming effect on her. He always could bring her thinking
in line with reality. After all she’d been through, Jamie should be a complete mess,
but she wasn’t. If she’d been alone when she found her house broken into or learned
of Yolanda’s death, Jamie might have had a nervous breakdown.

Max glanced over at her. “Did you call your friend, Sasha?”

“Crap. Finding the flash drive distracted me.”

“I understand.”

“I’ll call her later. I don’t think I could keep from telling her something.” Jamie
picked up the flash drive. “If this is from Vic Hart, what do you suppose is on it?”

Max’s fingers tightened on the wheel. “Something damned important.”

“He might have found out the location of the terrorist cell and maybe even their identities.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice, but I kind of doubt it. If he did have that kind of information,
he would have called it in. Putting information on an electronic device is risky.”

“I never saw him with a phone, and he certainly didn’t have a computer, unless he
kept it in his backpack.”

“Undercover isn’t always a twenty-four hour a day job. I’m betting Vic slept in a
warm bed most nights and drove a nice car, compliments of the US Government. He could
have risen very early in the morning, put on his makeup, and parked close to town.
He then could have limped over to his usual spot near the clinic with no one the wiser.”

“He didn’t limp.” Which meant he might not even have shrapnel in his leg. “Why do
you suppose he picked the clinic area?”

“That, my dear, can only be answered by Vic.”

She exhaled, picturing the tube down his throat and the saline drip into his arm.
“I hope he’s awake.”

“I could call Dan from my burner phone, but I think the less contact the better. Truthfully,
Vic’s condition doesn’t affect us right now. Agent Forbes and his men will make sure
Vic stays safe.”

She remembered Max telling Dan to call him if something came up. “Dan will need your
new number, too.”

Max chuckled. “You seem to forget that I was a cop. I already contacted him as well
as Trent.”

“I hope they can keep a secret.”

“Don’t worry.”

It took them about twenty-five minutes to reach the cute town of Winding River. Along
the way one of her favorite songs came on the radio, and she turned up the volume.
Pushing aside all of her worries, she hummed the refrain.

“You a big Toby Brunnell fan?”

“Yes.” She sighed. “There’s something about country western songs that speak to me.”

“His song, Montana Fire, is one of my favorites.”

She looked over at him. “Mine, too!” Max smiled, those dimpled cheeks sending her
mind in a different direction.

He shook his head. “It’s kind of sad, really. The hero in the song seems so in love
with his fantasy woman, but she doesn’t have a clue.”

Jamie leaned back her head. “Yeah, but she figures it out in the end. It has a happy
ending.”

Max laughed. “You are a romantic.”

“Very true.” They entered the town—all four blocks of it. Few people were parked in
the street and none were walking around. “It looks deserted.”

“It’s early still. I bet around dinner time and afterwards, the place will be bustling.
Or at least as bustling as a town of two thousand can be.” Max cut the engine and
jogged over to her side.

Jamie slipped her purse over her shoulder and let him help her down. The snow had
piled up on the sidewalk, so she had to walk carefully to avoid slipping. Once inside
the café, Jamie relaxed. Comfy sofas and mismatched chairs were scattered in the front
half of the café. A long table with four computers hugged the right wall. Fortunately,
none of the stools were taken. This must be their lucky day.

“Want coffee and a snack?” he asked.

A food counter was located in back. Tea tins lined the wall, but it was the aroma
of coffee beans and chocolate that piqued her interest. “Sure.” They went up to the
glass counter, where there was everything from cookies to pies to tea sandwiches.

The cashier came over. “What can I get you two?”

While Jamie was a bit nervous to eat, the food looked too good to pass up. “I’ll have
the fudge brownie and a black coffee.”

“Same for me,” Max said.

Max paid—again. Jamie wanted to address his need to take care of her, but she wasn’t
in a position to do much since they had to pay in cash, and she was a credit card
girl.

“I’ll bring it over when it’s ready,” the server said.

Max escorted Jamie to the computer that was the farthest from the window. They tapped
the mouse and the computer sprang to life. “Go ahead and plug it in,” he said.

Jamie’s stomach twisted. “If there is some juicy info, what are we going to do with
it?”

“I have Agent Forbes’s card, but let’s take a look first.”

Jamie loaded the drive and waited. There were two files. She clicked the first one,
and it sprang open. Max leaned closer and scanned the contents. “Fuck me.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

T
he document on the flash drive contained a list of names. Next to each one was an
item and an amount. Only these weren’t the type of things one would buy in a grocery
store.

She ran her finger across the screen and started reading quietly. “Rich Phillips—duct
tape: twelve rolls. Justin Andrews—hydrogen peroxide: four gallons.” The list went
on and on. “What do you think this means?”

Max leaned close and whispered. “It looks like ingredients used to make a bomb. Or
rather, a lot of bombs.”

Her stomach twisted. “Holy shit.”

“We’ve got to get this to the Feds, ASAP. Open the second file. Then we’ll make a
copy.” His words came out clipped.

She didn’t want to ask what he thought might happen to the flash drive, but having
a backup made sense. Jamie clicked on the second icon. Neither said a word for a minute.
The information made less sense than the first list. “What would row 27, seat 3 mean?”

“It looks like theater seat numbers.”

“You think a theater could be their intended target?” Jamie’s throat nearly closed.

Max shrugged a shoulder. “Or a football stadium, or any large venue that has numbered
seats. Is there any more information? A date would be extremely helpful.”

She scrolled down. “There’s nothing more. Just this one page.”

“Shit.”

“Wait a minute. Look.” Jamie pointed to the bottom right hand portion of the screen.
“This could be a date: 5/3.”

“It’s possible. No year, though. I’ll go out on a limb and say it’s this year, assuming
it is a date.”

“What do you think CF is?” The initials were centered at the bottom.

Max leaned back in his seat. “Given the location on the page, it could be the initials
of the person who sent this.” He shifted his gaze toward the window, his fingers tapping
out a beat.

Jamie read the list again, trying to think of all the places that had a large number
of seats. “The university has a football stadium.” The idea that a large population
could be killed sent chills up her spine.

“I can list a few places, too. Think of all the movies theaters in town and school
gyms, not to mention our indoor soccer stadium.”

She was more scared now than before. “Now what?”

The waitress came over with their coffee and dessert. “Here you go.”

Jamie looked up at her and smiled. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, hon.”

If anyone came in and asked questions about either of them, Jamie didn’t want the
woman to remember that Jamie had been the nervous lady with the blonde hair. Absently,
she fingered her light-colored strands. “You know I’ve always wanted to be a redhead.”

Max’s brows rose. “You’d look great as one, though I like you just the way you are.”

He had a knack of boosting her confidence just when she needed it. “Thank you.”

“You’re thinking you want to be a little less identifiable. Is that it?”

He caught on fast. “Yes. It’s bad enough being short and skinny. I’m rather hard to
miss, but if I dyed my hair and changed my makeup—or rather wore makeup—the bad men
might look right past me.”

“Smart.”

She’d deal with the transformation shortly. Right now the chocolate was calling her
name. Jamie bit into her brownie. “Mmm. This is really good.” Perhaps it was so tasty,
in part, because some of the mystery had been solved. “If I were a terrorist, and
I knew I’d lost this flash drive, I’d be freaking out.”

“Which was exactly what they did. I’m hoping they become bolder and make a mistake.”
Max shoved back his chair. “I need to make a call.”

“To Agent Forbes?” Jamie kept her voice low.

“Not to him, yet.”

She thought he’d said he wanted to pass this off to the Feds as soon as possible.
Knowing Max, he’d want to check to see that Forbes could be trusted. Max moved over
to the front of the café where no one could hear him, kept his back to the customers,
and scanned the street. A cold streak raced up her spine. Did Max suspect someone
might have followed them? Was it his cop instinct kicking in, or was it his habit
to check everything?