“Then how come you’re still alive?”
“Because your father is rather old-fashioned. He seems to think parenthood is a team effort.” Jack smoothed down the front of his uniform. “And he thinks being a police officer is a noble profession, and he’s pleased that I want to settle down here in Pine Creek.”
Her scowl deepened. “What other lies did you tell him?”
“Not a one,” he said, placing a hand over his heart and holding the other one up in a scout’s salute.
Megan set her palms on the desk and leaned closer. “Then why, when I stopped into Gù Brath to let him know that I’m heading up the lake to start my survey tomorrow, did he insist that I had to speak with you first?” she asked with lethal softness. “And that if you say no, I can’t go?”
“That’s why you’re breathing fire? Because your father told you to come ask my permission?” Jack leaned back in his chair with a whistle. “How do he and MacBain do it?”
“I am not asking permission for anything,” she growled. “I’m here to find out what important thing you have to tell me.”
“It appears there’s a connection between Collins and Billy Wellington, which now seems to be connected to you. Mark Collins was paying for Wellington’s education.”
She straightened and crossed her arms under her breasts, over her bulging belly. “My, my, you just keep embellishing your little tale, don’t you? You’ve even managed to tie in my new job to make my father believe I’m still in some sort of danger.”
Jack knew that on some level she actually believed his “tale,” but apparently her pride—and obvious need to indulge in a bit of revenge—was stronger than her desire to forgive him. He stood up. “Yeah, like I’m foolish enough to lie to your father.” Just to rile her further, Jack mimicked her stance by crossing his own arms over his chest. It was time to bury the nerd. “How are you planning to get up the lake tomorrow?”
She was momentarily caught off guard by his question, but quickly recovered and lifted her chin defiantly. “By snowmobile. There’s a state ITS trail that runs up the east side of the lake, and a local spur at the north end that goes right through the area I’m studying.”
Jack knew she was expecting him to argue that she shouldn’t be snowmobiling when she was five months’ pregnant. Instead he asked, “How long a trip is it?”
She eyed him suspiciously. “Two hours up and two back, and a few hours to look around the north end of the lake.”
He nodded. “We should leave no later than nine, then, so we can be back before dark.”
Her arms fell to her sides. “We?”
Jack rubbed his hands together excitedly. “I’ve been dying to try my new sled on the trails around here. And since this is your turf, you can be my guide. It’s a win-win opportunity for both of us.”
“I do not need a babysitter.”
“But I do. I’ve only ridden on the lake so far, because I don’t know the trails.”
“Then join one of the local snowmobile clubs. They have maps, and they organize trail rides every weekend. You are not going with me.”
“Why not?”
“Because…” She tossed up her hands in frustration. “Oh, okay! But you’d better not interfere in my work or slow me down.”
“Slow you down?” He eyed her suspiciously. “What do you have for a sled?”
“I’m using one of the ski resort’s snowmobiles. It’s not a speed demon like yours; it’s a working sled. By ‘slow me down,’ I mean you’d better not start complaining that I’m going too fast for my condition.”
He gave a negligent shrug. “Riding on groomed trails is no more strenuous than driving a car. So,” he said, walking around the desk and opening his door. “Are you packing our lunch, or should I have the restaurant throw us something together?”
Megan reluctantly followed, then stepped directly in front of him. “I’m in charge of tomorrow’s ride.”
“Of course you are.”
“I’ll bring a gun.”
“Expecting trouble?”
“No. But only an idiot heads into the deep woods unarmed. And I’ll bring lunch. I have leftovers that need to be used up.”
“Great. I love cold roast beef sandwiches, especially with mustard and cheese.”
“And I’m bringing snowshoes, because I want to check out a deer yard I think is up there. What about your knee?”
“It’s much better, thanks. But in the interest of not slowing you down, I’ll just find a sunny spot and take a nap while you hunt for your herd of deer. If you bring the leftover gravy, I can build a fire to heat it up. You want me to make the cocoa?”
She again eyed him suspiciously, apparently wondering why he was being so cooperative. “Um…okay. But I—”
She was interrupted when someone cleared his throat nearby. Jack looked over to see Robbie MacBain standing there, Ethel hovering behind their newest guest. She shrugged when Jack didn’t say anything, then went back to the front desk.
“You two sound like you’re planning a trip to the backcountry,” MacBain said, frowning at Megan. “Have you spoken with your father today?”
“Apparently you have,” Megan snapped. She suddenly shot her cousin a smug smile. “I’m going, and Wayne’s going with me.”
Robbie’s glare returned to Jack. “This is your idea of keeping her safe?”
“I’ll be right behind her the whole way. If a moose tries messing with her, I’ll run it over with my sled.”
He thought MacBain was going to punch him, and bit back a grin.
Megan snorted. “I’ll most likely be saving him,” she said, doing exactly that by stepping between them.
She was his little warrior, all right, giving him hell one minute and protecting him the next. Jack wondered if she even realized what she was doing.
“We’ll be on the snowmobile trails, Robbie,” she continued. “What can possibly be dangerous about that? Tomorrow’s a weekday, so there won’t be much sled traffic, and I’ll have the satellite phone if we run into trouble.”
“Did you follow that guy’s tracks the other night?” Jack asked Robbie.
“That’s what I’ve come to talk to you about,” he said, walking past Megan into the office.
By the scowl Megan gave his back, she apparently didn’t like her cousin’s dismissing her any more than she liked Jack doing it.
So Jack did it again. “I’ll meet you in front of your house at nine tomorrow morning,” he told her, stepping back into his office and partially shutting the door. “Don’t forget the gravy.”
Megan spun on her heel and stormed down the hall. Jack took a moment to admire her lovely backside, then closed the door and turned to Robbie.
“What’s your background, Stone?”
Jack walked to his chair. “Covert intelligence.”
“You were in the field?”
“And more dark alleyways of European and Middle Eastern cities than I care to recall.” He sat down and motioned for Robbie to do the same. “I promised Greylen I would keep his daughter safe, and I will. Tell me about Kenzie Gregor.”
“Kenzie? Why?”
“What’s his story? And what’s his interest in Megan?”
“He’s only been in this country a short while, he lives up on TarStone with an old priest named Daar, and he considers Megan a sister. I made some calls this morning to a few of my old military friends, and they’re looking into Mark Collins for me.”
“Good. The more information we get on Collins, the better. Explain the social structure around here for me—best as I can tell, there are at least three…clans? The MacKeages, the MacBains, and the Gregors. Is Greylen really a laird?”
“He’s laird of the clan MacKeage. My father is also a laird, though neither man uses the title anymore.” His eyes lit with amusement. “Unless they’re wanting to flex their muscles at someone.”
Jack ignored that last part. “Yet you seem to be the go-to man around here. Megan and Camry respect your authority, as does Greylen.”