FIRE AND ICE (30 page)

S
OPHIE INSISTED ON GOING BACK TO INOOK THE FOLLOWING
morning with Jack. She was determined to look at the scientists’ home away from home and, hopefully, find out what Dr. Eric Carter was doing.

FBI agents were on their way from Anchorage, and the police from Barrow had already made a complete sweep of the property.

The bodies in front of the burned cabin—or what was left of them once the wolves had finished—were on their way to the morgue.

Jack had watched them being put into body bags. Eric Carter was unrecognizable. Identification would be made from his fingerprints. Jack stood over the second body and examined his face. He had seen him before, but where? Replaying the events of the last few days in his memory, he came to it. He and Sophie had walked past him on their way to Chipper’s Charter Service. The man had stood outside their hotel and had almost been hit by a truck as he rushed across the street toward his own vehicle. Okay, so the son of a bitch followed them.

Jack had made sure that Sophie stayed away from the gruesome scene at the cabin. He’d argued that she’d been through enough. She was with the police as they searched the four rooms of the scientists’ quarters, and she walked through each one looking for some clue as to why Harrington had come to Alaska. She knew he had been connected with the Alpha Project. She still didn’t know what that was, but she was positive it had something to do with the scientists who ran this facility. What had Eric Carter been afraid she would discover?

There were notebooks full of data, but they all were about the wolves. There were videos as well. The disks were labeled and numbered. The subject of disk one through disk twenty was the alpha male named Ricky. One of the officers put a disk in the player, and several others gathered around to watch Ricky and his pack attack a caribou.

“How were they able to film this without the wolves coming after them?” he asked.

“Look at the jaws on that beast,” another officer said. “I think he could take down a polar bear all by himself.”

Jack joined the group. He saw the wolf and recognized him immediately. As he watched the video, he felt a strange connection with the animal, probably because he had stared into his eyes and seen the power in him. He also felt a weird sort of fondness for the wolf because he hadn’t attacked him. Scared the hell out of him, but had left him alone.

“He’s magnificent,” an officer remarked. “Think he was one of the wolves that killed the doctor last night?” he asked Jack.

“Yes,” Jack answered but didn’t elaborate. “He was there.”

Sophie sat at the desk in the small room the doctors used as a study, looking through notebooks. Jack checked up on her every few minutes. He’d stop in the doorway and just watch her until she looked up. He’d ask her if she needed anything, and he’d also ask each time if she was ready to go back to Barrow.

She knew he was concerned about her, but couldn’t understand why. She was surrounded by men with guns, and she had her own FBI agent bodyguard.

“Are you worried I’ll read something that will freak me out?” she asked the fourth time he appeared.

“There is that possibility.”

“Oh, please. After yesterday, nothing here will spook me … bore the wool socks off me, but not scare me.”

He smiled. “You don’t like wolves.”

“Yes, I do,” she replied. “But every little detail of their day? Eat, sleep, kill, eat, sleep, kill … repetitious.”

“It’s what they do.”

She nodded. “They were interested in the behavior within the pack. The alpha interested them most, how he controlled the others … family dynamic stuff.” She closed the notebook, put it back on the desk and stood. “I don’t know how these scientists stood it. Day in and day out watching wolves … and in these conditions.” She walked over to him as she asked, “Have they found anything that connects Harrington to the project?”

“Not yet,” he answered. “But they’ve only just started.”

When she looked up at him, he felt a tightness in his chest. She was beautiful, yes, but there was so much more to her. She was loving and trusting and fiercely loyal. He lifted her arms and put them around his neck.

“Guess what I’m gonna do,” he drawled.

She moved into him and pulled his head down toward hers. Then she brushed her lips across his mouth, teasing, tempting. “This?” she asked. She deepened the kiss, rubbing her tongue over his lips. She pulled back and whispered, “Or this?”

Hungry for her now, Jack slanted his mouth over hers and his tongue moved inside. He loved the way she felt pressed against him, and from the way she eagerly responded, he knew she loved it, too. He would have liked nothing better than to rip her clothes off and
make love to her now, in this room, but he lifted his head. His breath was shaky.

“This isn’t the time or the place, sweetheart … unless you want to make the six o’clock news.”

One of the officers interrupted. “Your pilot wants to know when—”

Jack didn’t let him finish. “Tell him to start the engines. We’re leaving now.”

A few minutes later, Sophie was all bundled up and heading toward the plane with Jack. The wind had kicked up again, and the short walk was miserable.

“I hate …” Jack began.

She patted his arm. “I know. You hate the cold.”

THE FLIGHT BACK
to Barrow was turbulent, but Sophie’s stomach barely complained. After her experiences of the last twenty-four hours, a bumpy ride in a tiny plane was child’s play.

Once back in Barrow, she spent several hours in the police station. She tried to be helpful and apologized over and over again because so many of their questions were left unanswered. Was she ever going to discover what happened to William Harrington?

“I know that Harrington was involved in something he called the Alpha Project. I just don’t know what his role was.”

“How was Harrington connected to the scientists?” one officer asked.

“Bluto.”

“Excuse me?”

She looked at Jack. “You explain.”

“One of the men who attacked us … Sophie met him in Chicago. He was at William Harrington’s apartment, and he told her Harrington had gone to Europe,” he said.

The interrogation continued, and when they’d finally concluded
that she had told them everything she knew, she was given the chance to ask them some questions.

“The men who came after Jack and me … who were they?”

“You’ve already named Dr. Eric Carter for us, but we haven’t identified the others yet,” the lead officer answered. “We’re looking for IDs. The FBI will run prints.”

Joe Rooney had been standing by Jack listening intently. He joined the conversation. “As far as we know, there were never more than four scientists at the facility. Besides Carter, there were Dr. Brandon Finch, Dr. Marcus Lemming, and Dr. Kirk Halpern. We’ve spoken to Dr. Lemming and Dr. Halpern. They’re in Chicago, and they swear they didn’t know what Eric Carter was up to. Lemming said Carter often stayed behind after the others had gone home, and he didn’t tell them what he was doing on his own time.”

“Did you speak with the fourth doctor, Brandon Finch? Where is he?” Sophie asked.

“In an urn on his wife’s mantle, I imagine,” Joe said. “He died of a massive heart attack a couple of months ago. Evidently he had a heart condition and didn’t let the others know about it because he was concerned they wouldn’t let him continue his work. Agents will go through Eric Carter’s house and his lab in Chicago. They’ll check out the other doctors, too.”

“What about the man Jack chased on the snowmobile?”

“We haven’t had time yet to get a search team together,” Joe said. “They’re going to have a tough time with the ice shifting.”

“One of those men who died was pretending to be Paul Larson. That’s what I think,” she said. “I wish I had heard their voices.”

“We’ll get some help up here from Anchorage,” Joe assured her. “We should know more in the next few days.”

It had been a very long day by the time the police had finished their questioning. Jack invited the officers to join them for dinner, and most of them took him up on his offer.

The Red Seal Café was packed with customers. When Jack, Sophie,
and the policemen walked in, a hush fell over the crowd. The whole town had heard the news of what had happened at Inook, and Sophie felt as though she were a guppy in a fishbowl. There was little doubt that she and Jack were the subject of every conversation at every table.

There was another whale meat special, and Jack decided he would try it again. He shuddered at the first bite.

“You’ve got to keep eating. By the third swallow, you’ll like it,” Joe told him.

Jack could only get two bites down before he gave up. “It must be an acquired taste,” he told the others.

Sophie took the opportunity at dinner to get more information about Barrow. She got up and went to the table next to theirs and asked a father and son if they would mind answering a few questions. By the time Jack was ready to leave, the entire restaurant was crowded around Sophie, helping her with her notes.

“Don’t forget to mention the lack of crime,” one man suggested.

“Until yesterday,” another said.

“Oh, right,” the first man admitted.

Later at the hotel, she sat down at the desk and started writing while Jack made several phone calls. When she had completed her article, she looked at the clock. Two hours had passed. She turned around. Jack, wearing only a pair of shorts, was sitting in bed reading.

She slipped into the bathroom and showered. Wrapped in a towel, she came back to the bedroom and stood beside the bed, waiting. When Jack looked up and smiled, she let the towel drop to the floor. He pulled the covers back so she could slip in next to him. He warmed her body with his and began to kiss her neck.

“Jack …”

“You like this?” he asked as his fingers slid down her chest to her stomach.

She inhaled sharply. “Yes, I do, but tonight is the last …”

“Do you like this?”

His hand moved slower, and his fingers were doing magical things to her, robbing her of her thoughts. She knew she wanted to tell him something, but his touch was such a distraction. She gasped, then moaned. Jack leaned up on an elbow to watch her as he stroked her. The warm glint of his eyes made her heart race even more. She couldn’t stand the torment any longer. She pushed him onto his back, straddled him, and then proceeded to drive him out of his mind.

When they both had reached the peak of ecstasy, she collapsed on top of him. She lay there for a long time, content to listen to his heartbeat.

It took Jack a while to control his breath. “Where did you learn … ?” he began.

“I didn’t learn,” she whispered. “It just felt … right.”

Her mind cleared and she remembered what she wanted to tell him. She rolled away, pulled the covers up, and said, “That was the last time we’ll do this.”

“Yeah?” He reached for her. “How come?”

“I’ll be back in Chicago, and I can’t get involved with an FBI agent. I just can’t.”

She thought he would be more understanding, but he wasn’t. He laughed.

“You
are
involved,” he said.

She’d have to give him that. “Okay, yes, but once we’re home, no more. Jack, you aren’t falling in love with me, are you?”

“Hell no. Absolutely not.”

“Good. I wouldn’t want to hurt you. Good night.”

She had trouble falling asleep. Why hadn’t he asked her if she was falling in love with him?

Maybe because he already knew the answer.

D
ADDY WAS IN THE NEWS AGAIN.
Sophie came home to a celebration. She had just unpacked and was about to listen to the messages on her recorder when Mr. Bitterman called.

“Turn on your television. Hurry. It’s in the news. The FBI is going to owe your father big for this one.”

He hung up before she could ask him any questions. She dutifully turned on the local news, hit the Record button, and sat down on the bed to watch.