Devil's Gold (26 page)

Leaving the cordoned-off and sealed area around Post 26, she approached Jake. He leaned against a tree, relieving the weight off his injured leg. Her breath caught again. She couldn't believe she'd shot him. Touching his shoulder, she stood on her toes and whispered in his ear. “Want me to put a proper bandage on your leg?”

He turned his head and grinned at her. “Only if it means a full body massage.”

The light banter eased her frayed nerves. “Well, I have this handy-dandy little medical kit over there that comes equipped with antibiotic and gauze pads, but I'm afraid no exotic oils or sponges.” Cassidy verified they were well outside the tented contamination site and stripped off her gloves and mask, inhaling and twisting her neck to stretch out tight muscles.

He reached for her hand and held it between his. Jake ran his thumb across the ridge of her knuckles. “You're trembling.”

Cassidy sucked in sharply. “Well, it's not because you're touching me.”

Soft laughter rumbled in his chest. “Don't I wish? No, I noticed it earlier when you were bagging the wolves. Your head hurts too, right?”

“Don't worry yourself, big guy. It's a plain and simple case of exhaustion.”

He stared at her, then glanced over her shoulder. She turned and watched Steve drag the last stretcher loaded with bagged wolves out of the observation area.

“Come on, Sunshine. I think the party's over.”

She followed him from the clearing. “Thank goodness for small favors.”

Jake tugged on her hand, and she allowed him to pull her along. “Did you speak with Ethan? He didn't know that the poacher aimed and shot at us.”

“I guess I left that out.”

Cassidy frowned. Jake didn't strike her as being the forgetful type. “I filled him in on our suspicions regarding the blood and connection with the dead body.”

“I know,” he said and helped her around a difficult bend, invading her personal space again when he moved behind her.

“I requested that he isolate the area and post guards.”

Jake stopped fifteen feet from the helicopters. “I know.”

Cassidy lifted a shoulder to indicate she'd only been trying to make conversation and walked past him, irritated and tired. “Aren't you just a know-it-all then?” She headed toward the helicopter containing the wolves and her pod. Ethan's men were still working the site, searching for evidence of the poacher. The lights bouncing off the trees gave a preternatural feel to the night.

Together, they entered a small tent split into several sections. A CDC chopper sat off to the left, obviously the benefactor of this mobile decontamination unit. Cassidy went through the three wash cycle once with her suit on and then once more stripped bare. The difference, this time, was privacy, hot water, and clean sweats.

She was the last one to exit the tent and moved to join the rest of her team. Steve lifted an arm down and helped her into the body of the rescue chopper they'd commandeered for this mission. She bit her bottom lip and refused to think about the last time she'd been aboard one of these things. This one wasn't as big, though, and contained none of the dull metallic paint she remembered from her previous ride.

Seating herself against the back wall, she reached beneath the bench and retrieved a medical kit. She patted the empty spot beside her. “Come on, Anderson; let's see to that cut.” Action helped her remain focused on facts and not the horror of the evening.

Jake bent his head, and his shoulders shook. He was laughing at her. “Yeah, Sunshine. Let's see to my cut.”

“Am I missing something?” Steve asked.

Jake glanced at her and winked. “Nope.” He sat down and stretched his injured leg across her lap. She pushed up the bottom of his navy blue CDC issued sweatpants leg and went to work, cleaning and disinfecting. The helicopter blades began their rotation and Cassidy focused on Jake's leg, blocking out the memory of Africa: the fear in Georgie's face, the brutality of the scene below.

“That looks bad,” Michelle said. “What happened?”

“I'm a klutz.”

Cassidy smiled. His protectiveness over her mistake made her feel all warm and fuzzy. Nibbling the bottom of her lip, she concentrated on the task at hand. Deliberately adding too much antibiotic, she smacked Jake's thigh when he squirmed.

She hated warm and
fuzzy
.

Finished, Cassidy pushed Jake's leg off her lap.

“Hey, I was comfortable.”

She smiled sweetly. “I wasn't.” Poking him in the arm, she decided to ask a few questions. It would help wash away some of the mental pictures of the past few hours. “Did you know that the Black Stripe crew is real?”

Jake was in the process of chugging water, and her question caused him to spew it out his nose. She raised a brow. That answered that.

Wiping excess water from his face with the back of his hand, he gazed at her. The brilliant blue of his eyes was a faint beacon within the dark confines of the helicopter. “Yeah, as a matter of fact, I do.”

Cassidy chewed on her lower lip. “Ever met any of them?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Care to tell me about it?”

“Well, I would …” He nudged her shoulder with his. “But then I'd have to kill you.”

Cassidy glanced over at Steve, and he gave her a told-you-so wink. “Very funny, Dr. Anderson.” She reached across his legs, and tapped Michelle on the knee. “Did you know Black Stripe is real?”

Michelle frowned and shook her head. “Nope.” She squirmed in her seat and lifted a shoulder. “They don't let me out much.”

Cassidy chuckled and pointed a finger at the ecologist. “You don't fool me, Michelle Allen. Behind that soft-spoken voice and innocent expression lies one of the most intuitive minds I've ever known. Don't knock yourself down because of your limited field assignments.” An idea sparked. “Would you mind probing the computers for me and seeing what you can dig up on Black Stripe?”

Michelle frowned at her. “Have Steve do that.”

Cassidy glared across the chopper in Steve's direction. “Already did. And he won't help.”

“I don't think I can help, either. I'm not even sure they exist.” Michelle responded.

“Oh, they exist, all right. But getting anyone to talk about them is like teaching your cat to sit.” Cassidy sat back, frustrated. Her senate contact hadn't been able to provide any knowledge of Black Stripe. She'd exhausted all her leads. Asking for Michelle's help was an act of desperation.

“What's with the interest in Black Stripe, Sunshine?”

She glared at Jake. “Cassidy. My name is Cassidy. Or if you prefer, Dr. Lowell will work as well.”

The corner of his lip curled up in what Cassidy mentally labeled his snarky smirk. Dark lines smudged the space beneath his bottom lashes, lacing his face with a predatory glint. “But you're such a ray of shining loveliness, especially this early in the morning.”

Cassidy narrowed her eyes and muttered a few obscenities at Jake. He quirked his brow and she followed his line of vision, noticing the moon's movement across the sky. Checking her watch, she couldn't believe how quickly time had passed.

“PITA,” she said.

He offered her a quizzical expression. “Peter?”

“P.I.T.A.” She spelled out the letters and smacked him hard in the arm. “Pain in the ass.”

Jake tossed his head back and laughed. She couldn't help her answering smile. After their gruesome evening, it felt good to settle into normalcy. Lack of sleep, she decided, was making her giddy. Better to laugh than to cry.

Cassidy clung to the edge of her seat as the helicopter dipped then dropped down to land with a thud. The blades slowed and by the time they'd exited the chopper, they were completely silent.

“I brought the RV over to load up on additional lab equipment,” Steve called and jogged over to his camper contraption. He jumped behind the wheel, backing it up to the storage compartment beneath the helicopter. He leaned out the window and waved at Jake. “Come on, PITA. Help me get those wolves loaded.”

“Cute,” Jake answered.

They dragged the bags out of the helicopter and tossed them in a storage container beneath the main floor of the camper. Cassidy followed Jake into the interior of the vehicle, curious as to what she'd find. Steve hadn't been exaggerating when he'd said state-of-the-art.

The width of the center aisle was no wider than three feet. On the left side of the aisle pristine counters contained a variety of mounted lab equipment, while on the right side two computer workstations were set about four feet apart from one another.

Steve brushed past Cassidy and pointed to the upper walls. “These overhead compartments extend five feet out like airplane wings and can be used as sleeping bunks.”

“Cool.” Cassidy liked this little vehicle.

“This”—Steve motioned to what looked like two oversized closets that extended a few feet beyond the back of the camper—“is your necropsy lab.”

“I always considered myself as having a pretty decent imagination, but explain to me how two closets become one lab.”

Steve grinned, enjoying this little show and tell. “These
closets
extend eight feet out and are supported by hydraulic legs. Once unfolded, everything is pretty much drop down, plug, and play. The center floor slides out from beneath the bed of the truck. Your operating table rises up from its flattened position, and these two areas against the wall have all the equipment and storage containers you require.”

Cassidy still felt dubious; however, she'd be able to see it actually fit together in a few hours. “I'll believe it when I see it.” She glanced at the bag Jake carried and grabbed his arm. “What's with the yellow tape on this one?”

“That's the bullet-sporting wolf. I figure we'll need to get that over to Chief Connor ASAP.”

“I guess that makes you a smart PITA?” Cassidy laughed and slapped him on the butt. His arm snaked out, grabbing her around the waist and pulling her tightly against his chest.

“Don't touch the goods unless you mean to explore them.” Blue eyes challenged, a mixture of emotion swirling within their depths.

She gasped, finding it difficult to balance between soaring hormones and outrage. She shoved against his chest. His eyes darkened, and she felt her face flush beneath his scrutiny. “I won't touch again. Thanks for the warning.” Cassidy squirmed from his arms and walked to the end of the camper, muttering a mixture of sailor language and animal parts she'd like to see attached to Jake Anderson.

“What's with you and Jake, Cass?” Steve stepped from behind the black-and-white-striped vehicle.

“Not a thing.”

“Looks like a thing.”

She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Well, it's not.”

“Gonna stomp your foot next?”

Cassidy stuck her tongue out at him instead. “Get these bodies loaded, and head back to the hotel. You're going to show me how this cool necropsy lab magically appears and then sprinkle fairy dust on your computer and find me some answers to this blood anomaly.” She paused when Steve turned to say something to her. “Don't you even call me a bitch,” she warned.

“Wouldn't dream of it. Can we maybe get a little sleep first?” Steve accepted the last bag from Jake and slammed the storage compartment shut.

“Put the coffee on. This can't wait.”

He grabbed Michelle's arm and steered her toward the truck, helping her with the last of the gear. “See you back at the hotel.”

Cassidy watched the vehicle pull off the airport runway. A sudden blast of air snagged her curls. She instinctively ducked as the helicopter rose from the tarmac and banked in the direction of Yellowstone.

“Sunshine?”

She spun around to find Jake standing less than five feet away, moonlight bathing him in a soft glow. Her pulse did an irritating two-step. “Yeah?”

“We have a minor problem.”

Annoyance at his ability to provoke irrational feelings made her words sharp and clipped. “What's that?”

“It appears you just let our ride drive off.”

Cassidy twisted around, gazing at the now empty landing strip on the northern side of Jackson Hole Airport. The ZEBRA plane filled one section, but there were no vehicles in sight. Their Jeep was at the base of Post 26.

She blew an exasperated lungful of air out. “Well, heck.” She frowned and chewed on her bottom lip. “Let's go see what other little toys lie within the belly of that airplane.” The silence surrounding them itched Cassidy's nerves. She didn't want to be alone with Jake.

Swearing softly, she tugged at the end of her braid. Actually, she did want to be alone with him. That was the problem. “What about our phones?”

“Mine's in there.” Jake pointed toward the red taillights of the camper that were being swallowed up by the night. “Yours?”

Cassidy felt her pockets and came up empty. “I think I left mine on the chopper.” Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Jake began walking toward the ZEBRA jet, and she followed at what she considered a safe distance. “Don't suppose you have the keys?” he called over his shoulder.

“I have the access code.”

“Access code?”

Cassidy realized walking behind him and watching the way his jeans clung tightly to his butt wasn't helping her pulse settle. “Your memory isn't one of your better qualities, is it, Popeye?” She increased her pace and caught up with him, frowning at the startled expression that crossed his face. “You know? The access code. Whenever we take one of these babies and keep it on site, we're given the cipher code to retrieve all the equipment stored within.”

“Oh, the cipher code, of course.” Jake answered. “If you'd said that in the first place, I'd have understood.”