Grady took the seat at the head of the table, O'Rourke the one opposite her where he smiled at her like a hopeful suitor. It was an odd scene. The firelight from the fireplace flickered off the beamed ceiling as the sun faded from the sky, turning the frost a brief, brilliant gold before it faded to gray. It had all the trappings of a dinner with friends. Except for the lack of friends and the armed men close at hand, one standing behind her with his Uzi trained on her back. Donovan may have been given his parole, but it was obvious that Grady still didn’t trust him. She didn't blame him. Donovan had walked down the mountain with such an air of leashed menace that Grady had taken an involuntary step backward. Did he know he was in deep, she wondered?
She peeked at Donovan out of the corne
