Incriminating Evidence (36 page)

He shrugged. “We have to tell them.”

“Why do you think they left Godfrey here?”

Alec snapped another picture. The cell phone camera flash burned the grisly image of human entrails in her brain. “In two more days, there’d have been nothing left for anyone to find, and whoever was with Godfrey had to figure out what to do with me first. He—or she,” he added pointedly, “probably figured no one would find this cave. They went after your computer and cell phone to make it harder for you to retrace your steps. It’s even possible they planned to return to take care of Godfrey, but have been too busy at the compound to get away.”

A chill shot down her spine, and she turned toward the entrance. “They could come back at any time.”

“Yeah. Another reason we need to get to town and tell Agents Upton and Crews what we found.” He tucked his phone in his pocket. “Let’s go, Iz.”

They trekked through the woods as close to a run as possible given the terrain, making it to the car in record time. Alec pulled out his cell phone and frowned at the screen. “A dozen texts just landed.” He scanned the contents. “Most are from Keith. Compound evacuation is underway.” He tapped the screen. “Shit. Brad Fraser quit.”

Isabel’s stomach—still queasy from the cave—did another flip. She
liked
Brad. Bad enough Nicole was a traitor. Were all her supposed friends involved in her brother’s murder? “What do you think that means?”

“I don’t know, Iz. He’s been on my short list of suspects from the start.”

Admittedly, hers too. But that didn’t mean she’d believed it. But then, she hadn’t believed it of Nicole either.

“Did Keith say why he quit?”

“No. He just said Brad’s gone to Tamarack, and there was no legal recourse to keep him in the compound or send him to Fairbanks with the others.”

“Send him to Fairbanks?”

“All compound personnel are being sent to hotels in Fairbanks on paid leave. If they want to get paid, they have to stay in Fairbanks. That way we can search the compound top to bottom, without whoever is playing with infrasound getting in the way. Anyone who rejects the deal is suspect.”

“And Brad didn’t take the deal.”

“Where would he stay in Tamarack? With the exception of the motel rooms for the FBI agents, I’ve booked and paid for every room in town through the end of the week.”

Isabel felt the blood drain from her face in a mad dash to her heart. “Jenna’s. He’d stay with the Roadhouse waitress, Jenna.” She swallowed hard. “Do you think Jenna is in danger from Brad?”

“I don’t know. We don’t even know if Brad’s involved.” Alec typed a message on his phone.

“Let’s go to Tamarack. I want to see Jenna. The FBI agents are there, not at the compound, right?”

He tucked his phone in his pocket and said, “Yeah. Let’s go.”

On the ride to town, she slumped down in the seat. She was bone tired. She’d only slept in segments—granted the middle of the night therapy session with Alec had been well worth losing sleep over—but in all she’d probably only slept four hours, then hiked several miles, and experienced pretty much every emotion a person could feel in the space of a few short hours. Lust, heartache, fear, shock, horror, something deeper that was dangerously close to caring, then right back to fear and horror again.

Anger was back too. Plus she knew an abyss of grief waited for her. Grief over what Vin had gone through, and horror that a woman she’d considered a friend was the monster she’d been seeking. “Yet another reason to avoid making friends,” she muttered.

“What?” Alec asked.

“Nicole. Brad. Jenna. Two people who might have killed my brother, and a third I’m scared will get hurt. Making friends, caring about people, it’s the most awful thing in the world.” She closed her eyes, thinking about all the people she’d lost. After losing her parents, she’d moved so many times that by her junior year in college—after she’d transferred from community college in northern California to Washington State University—she’d decided to stop making friends. She was so sick of missing people; it was easier to have no one.

From there, she’d continued the moving pattern. Never setting down roots long enough to grow attached. Grad school had been difficult because it required staying in the same place longer than she usually allowed. But even so, she’d gotten her master’s from one school and had been working on her PhD at another.

She thrived on change, plus the frequent moves made it easier to accept being alone. She didn’t have to admit to being a porcupine in a human world. For six months after each move she could tell herself,
I don’t have friends because I’m new here
. And it didn’t even sound pathetic.

Vin had given her Gandalf five years ago, because he worried about his vagabond sister. He’d wanted her to have one constant in her life while he was off fighting for his country. When he’d taken the job with Raptor, he’d promised to stay in Alaska. Her plan had been to move to Tamarack after she had the PhD in hand. She’d finally have family again. A place to call home. A reason to make friends.

But that dream had died with the only person in the world who cared about her.

She’d moved here to find justice for him, and spent time with Nicole and Brad and the others because reaching out was necessary to make inroads into the workings of Raptor. But somewhere along the way, the friendships had become real. Not exactly deep, but genuine. She’d looked forward to the evenings at the Roadhouse with Nicole and Brad as the brightest spot in her long, isolated weeks.

And it had all been a sham.

Silent tears rolled down her cheeks. She couldn’t stop them; it took all her will to keep from sobbing aloud. She kept her head averted and hands on her cheeks, wiping away the evidence that grief and anger and hurt had caught up with her.

She hated showing emotions almost as much as she hated having them. She hated being weak.

She didn’t want Alec to know how fragile she was. He was the one who’d just discovered he’d killed a man. It was ridiculous for
her
to be the one breaking down.

Without a word, Alec stopped the car in the middle of the logging road and threw it in Park. He hit the release on her seat belt. “Come here.” He pulled her across the console and onto his lap.

That shattered her restraint, and a hard, pent-up sob escaped.

“Oh, honey,” he murmured against her hair as she pressed her face into his chest. “Caring about people is what makes life worthwhile.”

“That’s because you have people who care about
you
. Since my parents died, I haven’t had anyone but my brother.”

One large hand cradled her cheek, holding her against his beating heart. “You have me.”

She pushed off his chest and swiped at a tear with the palm of her hand. “I wasn’t fishing for that.”

A smile warmed his eyes even as his lips barely shifted. “I know.”

“You just like having sex with me. This isn’t
real.
You’re leaving in a few days. This—whatever it is between us—will be over.”

“Honey, I don’t
like
having sex with you. I
love
it. And no way in hell does this end when I return to Maryland, because this isn’t just about spectacular sex. Five days ago, I met this amazing woman. She dragged my sorry, beaten ass across a mile of forest and saved my life. Even after she realized she’d rescued the person she probably hated most in the world, she took care of me. Since then, I’ve gotten to know her. She’s dedicated and strong and fierce and bold. Add to that brilliant and funny, and how could I not fall in love with her?”

“You don’t—”

“Hush. I’ve been practicing delivering speeches a lot lately and think this one is pretty good for being off-the-cuff, but you’re ruining it by interrupting.”

She laughed even as more tears fell.

“I’m falling in love with you, Isabel Dawson. I wish to hell we’d met in a different time, a different place. I wish I’d asked Vin for your phone number when I had the chance. But we can’t go backward and all I know is I don’t want to move forward without you. This has happened fast, but then, when I know something is right, I move quickly. Like when I joined the Army. And I know in my gut this is the right thing.”

Tears ran freely as she held his gaze. Both fear and elation gripped her. “I don’t know how to do this. To love. To care. What if I’m not built for it?”

“Honey, you underestimate yourself so much. You care more about people than anyone I’ve ever met. The way you took care of me that first night proves it. And now your heart is breaking because you’ve been betrayed by at least one friend and maybe another, and you’re scared for a third. You have a bigger heart than you know.”

“It doesn’t freak you out that I’m not saying the words back to you?”

“I can wait. I love you. Now. Today. Just the way you are. My feelings aren’t dependent on you loving me back.”

“And if I can’t handle this and leave you tomorrow?”

“I’ll be devastated and miserable, but I won’t stop loving you.” He wiped her cheeks with his fingertips. “This isn’t a marriage proposal—it’s way too soon for that. It’s a relationship proposal. I want you in my life, by my side, to be the anchor that holds you in one place. Secure.”

His choice of words was perfect. She’d been adrift for so long, she needed an anchor. But not just any man could be that for her. Only one who was strong, determined, and focused. He needed to be a brilliant strategist, and someone who wasn’t put off by her prickly ways. Willing to hold her when she was sad, and make love to her when she was afraid. She needed a tiger with a weakness for hot chocolate. “Okay,” she said.

He tilted his head back and laughed. “Good thing I’m the only one in this relationship who needs to make speeches.”

A new fear gripped her, drying tears of joy and grief. “You don’t want me to campaign for you, do you? Because I’d be terrible at that.”

“The campaign is so shot to hell, I doubt it will matter. But no, if I somehow manage to salvage it, politics is my thing. It doesn’t have to be yours.”

“But isn’t politics all-consuming? A way of life?”

“That’s why I need you. If I win, you’ll keep me grounded. Prevent me from getting an overinflated idea of my own importance, and stop me from letting the politician become everything I am.”

She shifted in the seat so she could straddle him. Lightness had enveloped her, and she wanted to share it with him. She’d spent the last few days doing everything she could to hold herself back from him. She couldn’t tell him she loved him—not yet, not when she didn’t know if it was true—but she wouldn’t hold back from him, not anymore. She settled over him, and her knee hit the seat belt latch. It dug in just below the kneecap, but she didn’t care. She placed her hands on his shoulders and settled her crotch against his. His cock thickened, drawing a quick gasp of pleasure from her. “I know you’re rich and all, but I’m still going to work. You—us, this—can’t be all that
I
am.”

He slid his fingers in her hair and kissed her, a long, deep, slow exploration of her mouth that would curl her hair if she didn’t already have that covered. “I expect nothing less. How else are you going to pay for your half of dinner when I take you to Paris?”

She laughed and rocked her hips. He grew harder against her.

He pressed his pelvis upward, holding her waist as he ground against her. “Iz, I want nothing more than to forget everything and make love to you. Here. Now.”

She heard the unvoiced “but” and knew he was right. She kissed him one more time, then climbed off his lap. “Let’s go finish this.” Back in her seat, she buckled her belt and faced the forest road. Reality waited beyond the trees. “We have a crappy day ahead of us, don’t we?”

“Yes,” he said. His jaw stiffened. The fun was over. “Today could well be our very worst day.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

“I
always knew Nicole was a suspect, but I never accepted it,” Isabel said. “Not really.” Sadness had crept back into her voice.

Alec gripped the wheel, internally berating himself for leaving Nicole in a position of power here. This too was his fault.

But he’d never suspected Nicole of anything until Thursday night, when he’d created a mental list of people who might have a beef with him as he lay awake and cold on the rotting cabin floor. But at the time, Nicole hadn’t even known she wasn’t getting the promotion, so why abduct him then? Plus it appeared she’d been doing this for at least a year—maybe longer. Was Vin the first victim? Or one of many?

Chase Johnston had to be another victim. The question was, how long had Chase been experimented on? Had he stalked Isabel of his own accord, or had he been tortured and brainwashed into it?

Alec’s memory of killing Godfrey had been buried. It wasn’t a stretch to think they were experimenting with mind control.

There was much more to this than Nicole being miffed because she’d been passed over for a promotion, but damn if he could figure out what her agenda was. “She fooled me too. I held her in the same place—a suspect, but not really. She passed the not-loyal-to-Beck test with flying colors. By all accounts, she
hated
Beck. The man hired only a few women operatives and made no secret of the fact it was to keep from being sued for equal employment opportunity violations. She was told point-blank she was a token hire.”