The SUV’s front tires hit a bump. She braced herself against the seat, trying and failing to hide a wince as the seatbelt bit into her wound.
DeLuca saw it. “Sorry. Road’s pretty rough. I’ll be more careful.”
The conditions weren’t helping, no matter how careful he was. “It’s fine.” He didn’t need to coddle her. She looked young, younger than she actually was, but she was tough. A dozen or so stitches was only an inconvenience.
The wipers swished back and forth across the windshield in a steady rhythm, the fluffy flakes falling so fast and thick now that it looked like some kind of Star Trek warp speed special effect against the beams from the headlights. The old logging road continued twisting back and forth in a series of steep switchbacks down the mountainside, its origins probably dating back a hundred years or more to the timber boom in this part of the state. With each hairpin turn she braced herself against her door to keep from banging her wound.
The snow fell harder and soon they were forced to slow to what seemed like a crawl. “So much for the flurries they forecasted for the next few hours. It’s a damn whiteout,” he muttered, straining to see the road in front of him.
The silver lining in all this was that Briar’s would-be assassin, whoever they were, was trapped in this too. With any luck the storm would give her enough time to get out of the area and give them some breathing room, if not an outright clear path to Glenwood Springs with no one tailing them.
After he rounded yet another tight turn, the back wheels sliding despite the chains and four wheel drive transmission, up ahead in the distance Briar could see the faint red glow of tail lights. As they drew nearer she saw that it was actually a lineup of about a half dozen or so vehicles.
DeLuca got on the radio to the drivers of the two SUVs behind them. “Tuck, you pull ahead and check it out. Bauer and I’ll hang back.”
“Roger that,” the other man replied. Brad Tucker, former Delta operator and now assault team leader. Engaged to FBI Special Agent Celida Morales, who worked in the domestic terrorism division. Briar had seen her when they’d gotten into the SUV. She knew the woman and her boss, Travers, had wanted to question her and was glad they hadn’t gotten the opportunity.
Briar kept checking their surroundings as Tuck’s SUV passed them on the narrow road and pulled ahead. The chances of the sniper finding them in this storm were small but she wasn’t letting her guard down and DeLuca was being vigilant as well.
A few minutes later Tuck came back over the radio. “Two vehicle accident up ahead where this road meets the highway. Only one alternating lane’s getting through at the site and they’ve closed the highway down completely about a quarter mile from the highway entrance due to the weather. Everyone’s being diverted into town until morning.”
Great, Briar thought sourly.
“All right,” DeLuca said. “I’m gonna hang back from you until we clear this snarl. Evers’ll stay behind me. We’ll find a motel in town, stay there for the night and move out as soon as the road reopens. Hopefully before sunup.”
Briar agreed. She’d prefer moving in the darkness as well.
“Roger that,” Tuck answered.
Briar blew out a breath and fought back her impatience at being stranded all night in Golden. She was an expert navigator. Maybe once the storm let up a little she could head out on foot then find another vehicle to take her the rest of the way to Glenwood Springs. Staying put all night in a motel wasn’t a good idea, not even with an entire HRT there to protect her. She needed to keep moving, put distance between herself and her would-be killer, bodyguard detail or not.
Neither of them spoke again until they reached Golden. Tuck had called ahead and managed to get them some rooms. The motel was booked solid for the night and the parking lot was packed. DeLuca divvied up the room assignments and told her he was staying with her. She’d expected it, though it was going to make slipping out unnoticed harder. If DeLuca insisted on waiting for the roads to clear even after sunup, she was moving out on her own, orders to accept his protection or not.
They stayed in the idling vehicle on the road across from the motel while two of the team members, Vance and Blackwell, went inside to get the room keys. They checked the room she’d be staying in with DeLuca and a few minutes later one of them appeared at the top of the stairs leading to the second floor, waving them up. DeLuca pulled up as close as he could get to the stairs and three guys escorted her upstairs to the room. Total overkill but she didn’t say anything.
Inside she found the curtains already drawn over the windows. She closed and locked the door behind her and glanced around the room. It smelled slightly musty and the carpet and bedspreads on the two double beds looked worn. Not that she minded. What she minded was being stuck in here with a near stranger for the night, forced to deal with awkward silences and making small talk to alleviate the tension.