Page 151 of Running to You

Who were they talking about going in?

Not Eliza, surely.

Michael said, “I wish there were another way.”

“We’ve gone over it and over it,” Grant said. “The more we know, the less chance someone gets hurt.”

“Yeah, but…” Michael’s lips pressed together. “Who knows what that man’ll do to her.”

Grant said, “I think it’s worth the—”

“Absolutely not!”

Eliza visibly jumped. When she turned to face Sam, her eyes were wide as if he’d caught her doing something wrong.

Michael swiveled, hands going up. “You just need to listen.”

Neither Jon nor Grant seemed surprised he was there. Hard to sneak up on a Green Beret. Apparently, neither felt guilty for the reckless plan they were hatching.

“Sit,” Grant said. “We’ll tell you—”

“There’s nothing you can say that’s going to change my mind.” He marched close. “She’s not going in there.”

At that, Eliza’s eyebrows hiked. “It’s not your decision.”

Grant kicked out the chair beside Eliza with his foot. “Sit.”

Sam was tempted to stay standing on principle.

“Fine. Don’t.” Grant poured a cup of coffee from a carafe. “You need this?”

Not anymore, now that his heart was racing. He was tempted to grab Eliza and run, get her away from these brothers who wanted to risk her life.

Was it not enough that Keller had three hostages? They wanted to give him a fourth?

Grant pushed the cup across the table toward him.

But it was Jon who spoke. “We think we found them.”

“You think?”

“Why don’t you close that door so the whole hotel doesn’t hear us.” Grant’s suggestion held no smirk. No irritation.

Sam sent his little brother a look before he whipped the door closed. Stupid thing had soft-close hinges, robbing him of a satisfying slam.

Jon, cool as ever, spoke as if nothing were amiss. “Most of the camp’s structures are dilapidated, but the main lodge is sound, the area around it cleared of debris. The windows are covered with thick cloth or paper, and maybe something more substantial behind that. We can’t tell.”

“So we know where they are,” Sam said. “What’s the problem?”

“We think we know,” Jon said. “But not a soul went in or out while we watched. We couldn’t get a look inside. It’s possible the place is being rented, but—”

“So call the owners and find out.”

Grant’s voice was as patient as Jon’s when he spoke. “Keller is the owner.”

“That’s impossible. I looked for properties in his name myself.”

“It was purchased by a trust,” Jon said, “so his name didn’t come up in the records search. A little digging reveals that he’s the owner of the trust.”