Chocolate Chills (A Mission Inn-possible Cozy Mystery Book 6)

in black, entered.
“How long do we have?” I whispered.
“It’s confirmed. A window of five minutes,” Gamma answered me, evenly, and checked her watch.
All around the inn, the agents who had been guarding it during the day shift would be swapped out at intervals of a minute each. That meant we had five sections to pass, five minutes total to make our way, quietly, toward the exit we’d chosen. A point along the inn’s walls near the front of the grounds.
“I wish I could get down there.” Gamma, or Georgina as I called her in front of others, pursed her lips. Since the arrival of the agents, she’d shut down her secret armory. If the NSIB, her previous employer, found out that she had a stash of weapons, some of them illegal, she would be disciplined severely.
Luckily, Gamma had a small amount of tech and weaponry she kept behind the false back in her closet.
“Prepare yourself,” Gamma said. “We need to make this neat and quick. Once we’re out of the grounds, we remain on high alert in case of the mark’s appearance.”
The mark was my ex.
“We get to the target location, complete the operation, and return,” Gamma continued. “Once we’ve completed the operation, there’s nothing Grant or anyone else can do about our ‘lapse’.”
“Yeah, what are they going to do? Lock me in the inn?” I rolled my eyes.
What my grandmother was saying was that we’d escape notice until we’d gotten our burgers and returned to the inn. Along the way, we’d be on high alert for Kyle, but would most likely encounter nothing but the servers at the restaurant.
“Ready?” Gamma asked. “We need to move in three, two—” She opened the door and exited the inn.
I followed closely, my heart thumping against the inside of my rib cage.
We hadn’t done a practice run, but my grandmother was the most decorated spy in the NSIB’s history. If anyone could pull off an untested operation, it was her. She had more years of experience than I’d been alive.
We whispered along the back path near the inn, stopping when Gamma raised a fist. She was a shadow, barely noticeable, whereas I felt as obvious as an elephant in a tutu at a dance recital.
Four stop-starts later and we reached the exit point along the wall of the inn. Gamma produced a length of cord and a carabiner, then looped it around my middle and clipped me onto another cord she’d affixed around her waist.
She didn’t speak, but patted my arms, signaling that I hold on to her. We’d discussed this part of the plan before. She would grapple us over the wall, using the only grapple gun she had—she’d saved one in her false closet.
Man, I hate grapple guns. I tightened my grip around my grandmother, the scent of her petal perfume settling my nerves.
Gamma held up a gloved hand and counted down from five on her fingers. As she made a fist, my grandmother hit the trigger on her grapple gun and launched a projectile over the wall. She hooked it into the stone, tugged to make sure it was firmly lodged in place, then hit the second button.
When I tried using the grapple gun like this, I’d shoot over the wall like a stone launched out of a slingshot.
My Gamma, however, was a pro.
We glided upward, walking along the wall, and dropped down on the other side of it gracefully.
Gamma detached me from the cord.
I sucked in a breath of night air, joy curling through my stomach.
“We’re free!” I hissed.
Outside the inn’s grounds. Away from the prying eyes of the NSIB task team.
“We’re not out of the woods yet, Charlotte,” Gamma replied, in her prim British accent. “There’s no way Grant doesn’t have agents watching the road. It’s a long walk into Gossip, and we’ll have to set a swift pace if we want to get to the Hungry Steer before it closes.”
“Fine by me.”
“Check that bush.” Gamma pointed off to the side.
I did as I was told and retrieved a duffel bag containing a change of shirt for both me and her, and a wallet holding enough cash for our meal.
“Place your dark shirt and gloves in there and put it back in the bush. I’ll have Lauren bring it to me later. She knows better than to ask too many questions or check what’s inside the bag.”
Quickly, my grandmother and I changed out of our dark shirts, gloves, and beanies and into a blouse apiece. Gamma fluffed her hair, applied a layer of light pink lipstick, then nodded. “Perfect. Let’s move.”
I tossed the duffel bag into the bushes and followed her along the road that led from the inn.
A shrub rustled along the path, and Gamma dropped into a defensive stance. Before I had the presence of mind to follow suit, a man stepped onto the street.
“Really, Charlotte? Georgina? You thought I wouldn’t realize?” Special Agent in Charge Grant approached us, his jowls wobbling. The man had always reminded me of an over-sized Pitbull, and he’d never looked as threatening as he did now.
“Hi, Grandpa,” I said, lamely raising a hand. Grandpa was our codename for him while we were at the inn.
“Of all the irresponsible things to do!” He blustered, spittle flying from thin lips. “Of all the—are you so determined to endanger yourself that you would put the entire operation at risk? This is a matter of national security!”
“I was just… look, it’s been a month, and our friend hasn’t showed up. Don’t you think we deserve time away from the inn?”
“No,” he growled. “Not until you’re safe. Not until our friend has been apprehended. I’m disappointed in you, Georgina.”
“But impressed we made it this far,” Gamma said, sniffing.
Another growl from my boss. He bore down on us. “You’re never going to do this again. I’m always watching. Do you understand me? Always watching. For your safety.” He clicked his fingers and two other agents, clad in camo and bulletproof vests, materialized from the landscape.
The first