Sabotaged

  Tracey took a step closer. “I’ll make you.” She shoved Kirra.

  The small group at the edge of the parking lot had grown in size—everyone now watching them.

  “Whoa!” Reef stepped between the two. “I don’t know who you are, lady, but I suggest you back away.”

  Tracey peered around Reef at Kirra, her smile tinged with malice. “So . . .” She looked back at Reef. “She hasn’t told you? Well”—Tracey pushed up her jacket sleeves—“let me enlighten you.”

  Horror vibrated up Kirra’s throat, rendering her speechless.

  “Tracey!” a man roared.

  William. His voice jolted Kirra greater than a hundred volts ricocheting through her could.

  “Will?” Tracey turned. “I told you I’d handle this.”

  “And I told you to let it be.”

  Kirra refused to look at William, refused to make eye contact, afraid if she did it would all come rushing back and consume her with terror.

  Reef wrapped a protective arm around her. “Time to go.” He guided her toward their rental car.

  “We aren’t done here,” Tracey called, her boot heels clacking along the pavement behind them.

  Reef opened Kirra’s car door and settled her inside. “Yes.” He shut the door and turned to face Tracey. “We are.”

  She looked past Reef at Kirra. “Running away again. I suppose that’s what liars and skanks do—run away in shame.”

  Kirra rolled down her window as Reef climbed in the car and started it, finding her voice again. “I’m not the one who should be filled with shame.” But she was. “And William knows it.” She braved a glance in his direction. He remained on the periphery, letting Tracey fight his battle, coward that he was.

  “You liar.” Tracey spewed out a string of expletives as Reef started to reverse out of the spot.

  “That’s it!” He shifted the car into Park and stepped out to stand behind the open door. “What’s wrong with you, lady? How can you talk to her like that?”

  “She deserves it.”

  “No way. Not Kirra.”

  Tracey linked her arms across her chest. “Then clearly you don’t know who you’re dealing with.”

  Reef tried to keep his eyes on the road, but he couldn’t keep his worried gaze off Kirra.

  She was hunched over, nearly balled up against the passenger door, her face pale, her body shivering.

  He cranked up the heat. They needed to find someplace to rest for a while—grab something to eat and get a good night’s sleep. But not yet, not until he got her farther away from that horrid woman.

  A lot of different scenarios raced through his mind, but none of them matched up to what the woman said and who he knew Kirra to be. Even if they weren’t close, he knew her. He’d spent every year of grade school in the same class with her, shared the same homeroom in high school. He knew her character. And all the ugly things the woman spewed were incongruent with the person he knew Kirra to be.

  He glanced over at her again. “You wanna talk about it?”

  She shook her head.

  “Okay.”

  They drove in silence for the next two hours, making it to the southern border of Denali before Reef reached the lodge he and his family had stayed at so often while he was growing up.

  The two-story, arched-frame wooden lodge was just as he remembered it—down to the bronze statue of a moose standing guard by the front entrance—it’d been his sister Piper’s favorite part of their trips there. A gorgeous twenty-thousand-plus-foot mountain stood prime for exploring right in the lodge’s backyard, but no, his sister loved to sit out front by the moose statue and read.

  Kirra frowned as he cut the ignition. “Why are we stopping here?”

  “Because you need a good meal and a decent night’s sleep.”

  “But Meg . . .”

  “We wouldn’t reach Seward before midnight. Everyone will be dispersed for the night. We might as well rest where we know we can find a room and head out early. If we leave by five, we’ll be there by noon.”

  Kirra swallowed but didn’t argue as she stared up at the lodge. “Nice place.”

  “My family used to come here every year.” Until his folks had passed away.

  The valet opened Kirra’s door as Reef stepped out of his. He moved around the car, conferred with the valet, and stepped to Kirra’s side, linking his arm with hers. He opened the main door and ushered her inside, thankful to have her on what he considered safe territory—at least familiar territory for him.

  The tension racking her body hadn’t eased, but after what had transpired, he couldn’t blame her. It was going to take a while for her to settle down.

  “Let’s check in and then head for the hotel restaurant.”

  She nodded.

  Reef secured rooms in Moose Hall—the wing of the lodge his family always stayed in because of Piper’s adoration of the silly-looking animals. He understood their majesty, but cuteness? But that was Piper—able to see beauty amidst ugliness or even plain ordinariness. She’d seen the best in him when he didn’t deserve it. He still didn’t deserve it, but he was working toward being a man his sister, his whole family, could be proud of.

  Kirra dropped her bag on the bed, not even bothering to take in her surroundings. She couldn’t imagine what Reef must be thinking. She silently followed him back down to the lobby, where the restaurant was located.

  Dark wood tables filled the center of the dimly lit dining area, with cushioned booths lining the walls. In the center of the red-and-white-checked tablecloth stood an old bloomed-bottom bottle with a cream-colored taper candle wedged in the top. Wax trailed down in rivulets over the green glass surface. She hadn’t seen one like it since she was a kid in her parents’ favorite Italian restaurant. Just seeing it—the flame dancing along the wick—brought back the scent of garlic bread to her mind.

  She waited until after their meat loaf specials arrived to get the conversation rolling—she had to do it sooner or later. Better to get it over with. He’d think of her what he would. It was how she chose to react that made the difference. But first a report of Reef’s conversation with Jake. “What did Jake have to say?” she asked while digging into her meat loaf with a fork. It was so tender and juicy, it simply fell apart.

  Reef poured ketchup onto his plate. “We can talk about that later. It’s been a long day, hasn’t it?”

  A long day. That was a considerate way to put it. He may not have asked what Tracey was talking about during her rant, but he’d been thinking about it. How could he not? Besides, she could always tell when he was contemplating something—his forehead creased. Had since the first day of kindergarten when the teacher had asked him his favorite color. She’d asked all of them the same question, but only Reef’s answer had left a permanent impression on Kirra. He’d said it was blue that day. When the teacher asked if it would still be blue tomorrow, he’d replied tomorrow was a new day. Even then he’d lived for the moment. It had drawn her attention; he’d drawn her attention, in a good way—right up until he’d called her a stinky girl at recess. Then he’d become memorable for an entirely different reason—he’d become her nemesis that day and remained so all the way through high school.

  Now he sat across from her, and heaven help her, she yearned to share the weight crushing down on her, but why? Simply because he was available? No, because, for whatever crazy reason, she longed for his understanding. His comfort.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” He smiled softly.

  She smiled back. Grandma Alice’s words were a soothing balm to her suffering soul. “You first.”

  He set his fork aside.

  Never a good sign.

  He exhaled. “Jake said it’s been difficult tracking down Frank’s most recent employer, but Darcy’s on it.”

  Was that all? “I’m sure she’ll figure it out. She seems quite determined.”

  “I actually think she rivals Piper in that area.”

  “Now, that’s saying somethi
ng.” She poked at her meat loaf, apprehension stealing her appetite.

  “You know Piper.” He cleared his throat and glanced around the mostly empty room. Only an hour until closing, few customers lingered.

  She shifted uncomfortably. Why was he hedging? Had Darcy found something on Frank, or was he just working up the nerve to ask her about Tracey? “Anything else?”

  “A couple things, actually. Jake said something about Frank having two distinct histories, but we got on to another subject and before we could get back to it, the line went dead. Any idea what that means?”

  She sat back. “No clue.”

  He shrugged a shoulder. “I guess we’ll have to wait until they are able to get back in touch before we can find out.”

  “I guess . . . And the other thing?” He’d said there were a couple.

  He twirled his unused straw in hand, his gaze focused on his fingers. “Jake’s just trying to be thorough and work every angle . . .”

  “And?” Where was this going?

  His hand stilled, and he finally looked at her. “Is there any chance with Meg’s new devotion to the environment and Frank’s ties to the oil rigs . . . that she’s part of whatever’s happening?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Part of as in . . . ?”

  “Could she be in on it?”

  Had he seriously just asked her that? “No way. How can you think that?” He’d dated her cousin, for goodness’ sake.

  “Jake is . . . we’re just trying to view every angle, every option.”

  “Well, Meg being involved isn’t one of them.”

  “Are you positive?”

  She shook her head. “I thought you knew Meg.”

  “I do.”

  “Yet you still think her capable of staging her own kidnapping?”

  He leaned forward, lowering his voice. “I’m not saying that . . . exactly.”

  She scooted toward him, hunching over the table. “Then what are you saying exactly?”

  He exhaled. “That maybe she got in over her head. Maybe her new friends saw an opportunity and . . .”

  “And what? Meg just went along with it? Set up her father? I know Meg’s not the most responsible person . . .”

  “She can take off without notice.”

  “What do you mean?” She knew exactly what he meant. Meg had once done it at the worst possible time.

  “When we were seeing each other, she liked to just take off. A weekend skiing in British Columbia, another—”

  “What a minute!” She cut him off, heat flaring in her cheeks. “Are you saying you were with her that weekend in B.C.?”

  “That weekend? I don’t know what that weekend is.”

  “It would have been in March.”

  “Yeah, we ‘dated’ ”—he used air quotes—“from January until the end of March a couple years back.”

  “Two years back?”

  “Yeah, like I said, Meg was in her freshman year at the community college in Anchorage.”

  Her stomach dropped. Meg had ditched her that weekend for a getaway with Reef?

  “What does a weekend in British Columbia have to do with any of this?” Reef asked.

  She collected her thoughts, forcing herself to remain as focused as she could manage. “I’m just saying Meg’s heading for Seward is similar to that weekend—a guy talked her into taking off for the weekend, even though she was already committed to something . . .”

  “Trust me.” He sat back, lifting his hands. “I wasn’t the one who suggested the getaway back then.”

  “You’re saying Meg did?” She gripped the edge of the table. Meg had initiated the getaway? Her cousin had made it sound as if she’d been swept away, that she hadn’t really wanted to go but the guy she’d been dating had insisted. Kirra had tried not to blame Meg for ditching her, but now . . .

  “Yeah. If you don’t believe me, ask her.” His face softened. “When you can. I mean . . . when we get all this sorted out.”

  She swallowed. If that was true, it meant . . . She shook off the thought. Focus on the matter at hand. Deep breaths. “Taking off for a weekend is a lot different than staging a kidnapping. She would never do something like that to her dad.” She may push the line, may disappear for a weekend of fun, but she’d never lead him on to believe she was in danger if she wasn’t. Reef and Meg hadn’t dated long, but surely he knew at least that much about her cousin.

  Reef reached across the table and clasped her hand. His touch felt warm, secure. She was tempted to pull back, but she didn’t.

  “I agree,” he said. “I don’t believe she would do that, but I had to ask.”

  “Did you?”

  “If I didn’t, Jake would have.”

  “I would have preferred it coming from him.” Because he didn’t know Meg.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  He hadn’t upset her. He’d made her mad, but at least it’d distracted her from the hurt Tracey had inflicted. And . . . Frank’s two distinct histories? What was that all about?

  He landed in Fairbanks, already sick of all this travel. All because he had to chase after some stupid girl. At least their man inside had tipped them off and he’d be able to arrange transportation again. He only hoped he wasn’t too late this time. It’d taken a little research, but he’d tracked down Meg Weber’s roommate and was approaching her now. He was one step closer to Reef and Kirra, and he was gaining ground.

  13

  TAKOTNA, ALASKA

  MARCH 12, 10:36 P.M.

  “Any luck?” Ethan asked Gage as Jake struggled to get reception.

  Gage shook his head.

  A massive blizzard raged outside, creating complete whiteout conditions. Every musher except Frank was either safely secured ahead at Ophir or bunked down with them at Takotna, waiting for it to pass before they could move on. It was suicide to move now.

  Weather reports—the last they’d gotten in before all communication went down—said the storm would last well into the early morning hours but should subside by daybreak.

  Frustration prompted Gage to his feet. He hated being stuck when there was work to be done, or in Darcy’s nonstop mind, a case to be solved.

  She flopped down on a cushy brown sofa as he paced.

  “I hate this,” she said. “I feel completely useless.”

  “Chill,” Xander said. “The storm will pass soon enough. What are you working on anyway?”

  “Reporting on the race.” It was her job, and a great cover for her investigative work.

  “Okay, but the race is stalled. No one is actually racing. There’s no reporting to do, so chill.”

  Darcy’s mouth twitched but finally moved into a smile. “You’re right.”

  “Of course I am.” Xander winked. “I’m heading to the kitchen—anyone want some grub?”

  Ethan joined him, but everyone else declined.

  Gage took a seat beside Darcy and squeezed her knee. “I know you were dying to say something.”

  “I know I can’t.”

  The thought that someone in the checkpoint building with them could be part of Meg’s kidnapping made Gage’s skin crawl. If there was a threat, you dealt with it, didn’t tiptoe around it. But Jake said if they jumped the gun—if the men responsible for Meg’s abduction knew they were on to them, knew they were trying to track them—Meg’s life could be in jeopardy, so Gage played along.

  He could see she was bursting to share something she’d found. He peered through the open door at the empty hallway. Now at least they could talk. He gave Darcy the go-ahead signal by lifting his chin.

  “I discovered who Frank’s current employer is before we lost connection with the outside world. NorthStar Oil.”

  “What do we know about them?” Jake asked, resting a boot on his opposite knee.

  “They own a series of off-shore oil rigs, right?” Kayden said.

  “Right.” Darcy nodded. “And they’re laying the new interior pipeline.”

  Jake st
raightened. “They are?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I remember all the news coverage of the protests when they first broke ground.” Kayden took a seat on the arm of Jake’s chair.

  “Any chance Frank has worked on the pipeline?” Jake asked.

  Darcy leaned into Gage, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “I’ll check as soon as the Internet is back up. But I think his role in the breaking and entering is a far more intriguing angle.”

  Reef stood awkwardly near the door to Kirra’s room as she shuffled back and forth between her duffel bag and the nightstand—laying out her iPod, plugging in her phone charger. She hadn’t made any indication she wanted him to leave, and he had no desire to go. Today had been crazy, and all the events and emotions of it pumped through his system in a rush.

  “I think I’ll order some dessert from room service,” Kirra said, picking up the menu. “You want something?”

  “Sure. Milk and cookies.”

  She arched a brow.

  He smiled and pushed off the wall he’d been holding up. “I know it sounds childish, but it’s a lodge specialty. Warm, gooey cookies and ice-cold milk.” It was the perfect combo of opposites, kind of like him and Kirra.

  She lifted the phone with a smile and ordered milk and cookies for two.

  “You can sit.” She gestured to the sofa area.

  “Okay.” He looked to the cold hearth. “Would you like me to turn the fireplace on?”

  She rubbed her arms. “Sure.”

  He moved to the stone hearth and switched on the electric fireplace before taking a seat on the sofa.

  Kirra sank into the armchair. She kicked off her boots, and he was surprised to find her wearing neon heart fuzzy socks. “You’re right,” she said, stretching out.

  “That’s got to be a first.” For those words to be coming out of Kirra Jacobs’ mouth. His gaze fastened on her mouth, on the delicate curve of her full bottom lip. Whoa! He straightened. This was Kirra. She deserved the best, and he certainly wasn’t it.