Chapter 1

It was Friday afternoon, and Brody was restless.

Itchy.

All his ranch chores were done, and his foreman Brett was perfectly capable of holding down the fort for a few hours.

So he was in his truck, heading for Helena.  He’d have a drink.  Get dinner.  But first, he’d stop for coffee at Common Grounds.  It was Lainey’s go-to coffee shop, and maybe she’d be there for her afternoon coffee.

What the hell was wrong with him?  Brody shook his head, disgusted with himself.  He was an adult, not some stupid teen with a crush on the prettiest girl in high school.  If he wanted to see Lainey, he could stop by her office.  Make up an excuse to drop off some receipts.  Ask her advice about a purchase.  She was his accountant, and he came into town to go over his business with her whenever he could come up with an excuse.

Maybe he’d call and stop by this afternoon.

The number of trips he made from the ranch to her office had increased since he found out she’d filed for divorce from her loser husband.  Ron Martin had been a Sheriff’s deputy, and he’d been out to Brody’s Flying J ranch a couple of times.  He was an arrogant bully and Brody had disliked him almost immediately.  Being Lainey’s husband had made Brody detest him even more.

It was way too soon to start anything with Lainey, but he wanted to be the one to help her through the divorce.  The one she turned to for comfort and friendship.  Friendship that might, eventually, lead to more.

He’d been infatuated with Lainey from the first time he’d stepped into her office.  As he’d gotten to know her, his infatuation had deepened.  But he’d been careful not to let her see his attraction.  The last thing he wanted to do was make her uncomfortable.

As he drove toward Helena, his thoughts filled with Lainey, Brody spotted an SUV with its front wheels stuck in the mud at the edge of the pavement.  He slowed down, looking for the driver, but saw no one until he got close to the abandoned compound.  There, he spotted a tall woman with dark red hair emerging from the trees directly across from the compound’s driveway.

Slowing the truck, he pulled onto the cement driveway.  Rolled down the window and waited as the woman approached the truck.  Brody was pleased she kept at least six feet between herself and his truck.

Smart woman to be wary of a stranger.

“That your vehicle stuck in the mud about a quarter of a mile back?” he asked.

“It is.”  The woman studied him, and he had the sense she was cataloguing him for future reference.  “A deer ran across the road, I swerved to avoid him, and ended up in that ditch.”

“You need a tow out of the mud?”

“I do,” she sighed.  She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and wiggled it in her hand.  “No bars.  I saw the driveway, and thought maybe someone could call a tow truck for me.  The gate was unlocked, but I didn’t see a soul.  All the buildings are dark.  I knocked and yelled, but no one’s around.”

“Yeah.  Place has been abandoned for several weeks.”

“Is it up for sale?”

“No idea, but I haven’t heard it’s on the market.”

The woman frowned.  “You know who owns it?”

“Never heard a whisper about an owner.  I did some business with the place, but nobody mentioned the owner’s name.  The compound housed a paramilitary-type group.  We’d see young guys in camo fatigues and polo shirts in Helena on weekends.”  He scowled.  “Had a couple of murders, too, which hadn’t happened in years before they showed up.  One day, they all vanished.  Never did find out what it was about or why it closed.  Been sitting vacant ever since.

“You interested in buying it?” Brody asked, studying her more carefully.

“Might be.  I quit my job and I’m looking for something else to do.”  Her jaw tightened, as if just thinking about her old job pissed her off.  “Something where I’m in charge.”  She jerked her head toward the compound.  “That place got me thinking about my options.”

“Good luck.”

“Thanks.”  She pursed her lips.  “Helena your county seat?”

“Yeah, it is,” Brody said cautiously.  “Why do you ask?”

“Property titles are usually registered by the county.”

Brody glanced at his watch.  “If you want to do that today, you’ve got about forty-five minutes before the county offices close for the weekend.”

“And how far is Helena?”

“Maybe ten minutes.”  He gestured toward the bench seat of his truck.  “You want a ride back to your car?”

The woman took a half-step backward.  “No thanks.  But if you have cell service, you could call me a tow truck.”

“Don’t have to do that.  I can winch you out of that mud in about five minutes.”

“Really?”  The woman tilted her head.  “You’d do that for me?”

“Of course I would.  We help each other out in these parts.”  He took a breath.  “I’m Brody Jones.  I own a ranch about ten miles down the road.  I was heading into Helena.”

“I’m Mel,” the woman said.

Brody nodded, aware she hadn’t given him her last name.  A very cautious woman.  “Nice to meet you, Mel.  I’ll meet you back at your car.”

She stepped to the side, and he turned his truck around.  Drove back to the red SUV.  By the time she’d loped down the road to her car, he’d attached the winch to the ring beneath her bumper.

He looked up and smiled at her.  “Gotta love a Subaru,” he said, standing and brushing off his hands.  “They have a ring that can hold a winch hook.  Hop in and put the car in neutral, then I’ll get you out of that muck.”

Five minutes later, her car was back on the pavement, smeared with mud but free.  “Thanks so much,” Mel said.  “I wish there was some way I could repay you.”

Brody smiled.  “Help the next person you see stalled on the side of the road.”  His smile disappeared.  “Don’t get out of your car if it’s a man.  Roll down the window just enough to talk.”

Her face darkened, and Brody wondered what had made her so cautious.  “Don’t worry, Brody.  No chance I’d get out of my car.”  She smiled, although it didn’t reach her eyes.  “But I’ll definitely help the next stranded traveler I see.  Thanks so much for stopping.”

“Safe travels, Mel,” he said as the woman rolled up her window.  As she drove off, she raised her hand in farewell.  In a few moments, she’d disappeared around a curve.  Brody put his truck into gear and followed her toward Helena.

* * *

Lainey gripped the steering wheel of her car as the secretive compound outside Helena came into view.  As she eased her foot off the gas pedal, wooden buildings appeared, their windows reflecting the surrounding mountains.  A tall fence topped with razor wire glinted in the sunlight.  The blue, blue Montana sky made it look like a peaceful mountain resort.

From the little her husband Ron had said about the place, peaceful was the last word she’d associate with it.  It had been awhile since she’d seen her husband, thank God, but everyone in Helena had whispered about the mysterious place ten miles out of town.  A training camp for terrorists, some had said.  A paramilitary group, others had conjectured.  White nationalists, the paranoid had whispered.

No one really knew what the compound was all about or what they were doing inside its fences.  But despite the rumors and their fears, her fellow citizens of Helena had welcomed the money the compound brought to their town.  The wages paid to the men and women who’d done the construction work.  The supplies ordered from local businesses.  The cooks, guards, janitors and office people who’d been hired to work there.

The young guys in their camo fatigues and polo shirts who’d spent their money in the bars and restaurants every weekend.

No, this compound had put money into a lot of pockets in Helena.  Enough cash to make people look the other way.

Lainey included.  She’d gotten new clients for her accounting practice from local businesses that were suddenly more profitable.  She’d benefitted along with everyone else in town.

Drawing in a deep breath, Lainey turned into the driveway.  Frowned when she saw the gate ajar.  Every time she’d driven past this place, the gate had been fastened with a huge padlock.  So why was it open today?

She steered her car onto the shoulder of the road, then got out, her purse slung across her chest.  After locking her car, Lainey tucked the keys inside her purse, her fingers brushing the cold barrel of her new handgun.  A Glock 19.  She’d bought the weapon after she’d filed for an order of protection, hired a divorce attorney and changed the locks.

Ron Martin would never lay a hand on her again.

Ron worked here, as a guard.  He’d started several months ago, after being fired from the Helena Sheriff’s Department for excessive force.  He’d been roughing up suspects for years, bragging about how he could do anything without being caught, until someone had taken a video of him beating a suspect.

He’d found a new job out here at the compound.  And she assumed he’d moved in here after she’d kicked him out of the house.

She’d driven here today because her divorce attorney’s process server hadn’t been able to find Ron.  She needed to verify that he still worked here.  She wanted to avoid Ron — she only needed to talk to his boss.  Simple.  Quick.  Easy.

It didn’t feel so easy now.

Swallowing, she pushed open the gate and stepped inside the fence.  All she wanted was confirmation of Ron’s employment.  A quick, easy visit.  But she saw no one.  Faced only emptiness.  Heard nothing but silence.

A cold finger crept up her spine, and she shivered.  There should be some signs of life inside this fence.  Every time she’d passed by, she’d seen young men on the grounds.  Exercising.  Practicing what looked like martial arts.  Running around the track circling the compound.

The emptiness was eerie.  Disturbing.

She shouldn’t have come out here alone.  She should have brought someone with her.  Brody Jones’ face appeared in her mind, but she shoved it away.  It was too late now to bring Brody or anyone else.  She’d find Ron’s boss then hurry back to her car.  Flee this creepy compound and drive back to town.

Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she pulled up the 911 screen.  Clutched the phone tightly as she walked past the first building.

Beyond the gate, she saw several more buildings.  One long, low one that was probably the mess hall Ron had talked about.

It was almost lunch time.  Maybe everyone was inside that building.  Eating.

But there was no smoke coming from the chimney.  No smells of cooking or food.

Lainey squared her shoulders and headed for the mess hall door.  She’d come out here to verify Ron’s employment, and she wouldn’t leave until she was sure the process server could find him.

She tugged the door open, and saw nothing but shadowy darkness inside.  Even in the dim light, it was clear no one was eating at the long tables.  At the other end of the building, the kitchen was dark and empty.  No one was cooking.

The room was deserted.

She flicked the light switches.  Nothing.  As she moved closer to the kitchen, the scent of rotting food overwhelmed her, and she took a step back.  Gagged.  Everyone must have left the compound in a hurry — they’d apparently neglected to empty the garbage before they cleared out.

Then another scent caught her attention.  The coppery smell of blood overlaid the garbage stink.  A lot of blood.  Like an animal had been slaughtered in here.

Or a person.

Suddenly chilled, she curled her fingers around the grip of the gun in her purse and took a step forward.  Another.  As she got closer to the kitchen, she spotted the dark outline of a lump on the floor.

Her breath caught in her throat at the faintly human shape.

Before she could take another step, the door slammed shut behind her.  Something crashed into it, and Lainey spun around and raced for the door.  Before she reached it, the pungent, distinctively sweet odor of gasoline filled the air.  The whoosh of fire roared to life on all sides of the building with a chilling howl.

Lainey ran toward the door and fought to open it, but the door banged into something solid.  Unyielding.  Dashing toward a window, she was horrified to find flames already licking at the glass.