And stolen their backpacks.
“Thomas, did you see where the packs went?” she called over to the other diggers. The big man simply shook his head, his face grim. He didn’t lose a beat in his digging rhythm. Ryan did.
“What? No packs?” Ryan worriedly looked around, his eyes wide as they stared at the plane. “Mine’s still up top,” he said slowly.
“Better than none,” Thomas stated.
“Shit.” Ryan attacked the snow with fresh vigor, and Brynn imitated him.
Her gloved hands hit a hard patch, and she punched the snow with her fist to break through. Blue. She could see blue through a layer of snow. Kiana barked.
“I’ve got him!” she shrieked and attacked the snow. Jim lunged closer.
“Which way’s his head?”
“I can’t tell. Hang on.”
Ryan and Thomas were instantly at her side, digging faster. The blue haze under the snow grew larger and she touched the fabric. Thank you, God. Thank you.
“That’s not him.” Thomas spoke just as the realization punched Brynn in the gut.
It was one of the packs. The four of them sat back, utterly drained. Kiana barked and dug at the blue fabric.
“It’s mine,” Brynn whispered. “It’s got Kiana’s food in it.” Tears traced hot paths down her cheeks. They’d been wasting time and muscle power digging in the wrong place. Thomas stood, strode back to his hole, and began to dig. Ryan followed.
“Brynn, get your shovel out of the pack and get over there.” Jim’s voice was tired. “I must have seen the blue of your pack getting tossed in the avalanche. So maybe Thomas saw the blue of his coat. Fuck!” He rubbed his palms over his eyes. “I screwed up.”
“No, you didn’t. Look how accurate you were in locating this. We’re gonna need it.” Her voice was calm as she located the collapsible shovel, but her heart was crying. “This shovel might be what we needed to find him. Go on.” She gestured for him to join the others. “I’ll be right there.” She forced her breaths to stay even.
Jim pushed to his feet and jogged over. Ryan slapped him on the shoulder and made room for him to dig beside him. The agony on their faces broke her heart.
Brynn maneuvered her shovel out of her pack, and her fingers brushed Kiana’s sack of food. She wrenched it out of the half-buried pack and held a handful out to her dog. “Here you go. Good girl.” Kiana wagged her tail and attacked the food.
Brynn grabbed the shovel and headed over to the men. She held the shovel out to Thomas, who silently accepted it and attacked the growing hole. Brynn fell to her knees and started to dig. Her back ached in protest.
“Alex! Can you hear us?” Ryan shouted and the others held still, listening. “Alex!” Silence.
“Call him again,” Brynn whispered. Her throat felt too swollen to yell. Come on Alex. Where are you?
“Alex!” Ryan yelled and then froze. “Call him…shit. Anyone know his cell phone number? Maybe we’d hear that.” “There’s no coverage up here.” Thomas kept digging. “There’s some. I got through to Collins a little while ago.” “But you were higher.” Brynn’s heart lifted a fraction. “It’s worth a try! Jim, do you have his number?” Jim shook his head. Ryan turned hopefully to Brynn. “Brynn?”
She shook her head, and Ryan’s face fell as he tentatively looked at Thomas. Ryan didn’t bother to ask.
“Wait. Collins gave me the number for Alex’s boss before Alex even showed up at base camp yesterday morning.” Jim had an odd look on his face.
“You want to try to reach him and ask for Alex’s number?” Brynn asked hopefully.
“No.” Jim paused, brushing at the snow on his pants. “I think its Alex’s number I have. Alex was the one who called Collins and talked his way onto our team yesterday morning. Not someone at the US Marshals’ office.” Brynn stared. “Why would he do that?” Jim had already pulled out his cell phone and was dialing. He ignored her question. “It’s showing a weak signal. One bar. Quiet.”
Brynn shut her eyes and tried to stretch her hearing. She heard Kiana’s tail swishing and the crunch of her kibble, but she didn’t hear a cell phone ring.
“Knowing him, it’s probably on vibrate,” Ryan mumbled. His face was long, his eyes red.
“Shhh.” Brynn heard the wind blow snow out of the firs, but she didn’t hear a ring.
Jim slapped his phone shut with a crack.
“Try again,” she urged.
He started to shake his head, but faltered as they made eye contact. She pleaded with her eyes, and he hit send again.
Thomas coughed. Brynn wanted to smack him for the noise.
Jim stood still, holding the phone to his ear, his face as blank as the snow.
Come on, Alex. Tell us where you are. This time she kept her eyes open, scanning the snow for any movement, any color.
“Damn it, Alex, answer your frigging cell,” Jim said into his phone.
Without looking at the others, Jim snapped the phone closed and dropped to his knees to dig. “I reached a voice mail, but it didn’t say who it belonged to.” Jim’s throat sounded tight. Kiana padded over and enthusiastically dug beside him.
“No food this time, girl.” He ruffled the dog’s fur.
Darrin’s stomach tied in knots as he watched the team dig. When they’d rushed the hole next to the woman and pulled out a backpack he’d been strangely disappointed.
Shouldn’t he be pleased to get that pain-in-the-ass ex-agent off his back?
Instead, he found himself pulling for the team.
He wanted another day to challenge Alex Kinton.
Another day to piss him off, watch the rage in Kinton’s eyes and the pain in the lines on his face. Darrin swore Kinton had twice as many lines around his mouth as when they first met.
He’d glimpsed Alex a time or two before the “accidents” at the group home. The resemblance between Alex and his retard brother had been startling. It was like the retard had suddenly been injected with brains, pounded by a personal trainer, and had his hair trimmed. But it wasn’t until after Samuel’s incident that Darrin got to know, really know, Alex Kinton.
After Samuel’s death, Alex had raged through the group home, upsetting all the residents and making the owner cry. He’d been something to see. Those gray eyes had become a shade of steel that burned, and the tendons in his neck had looked like taut bungee cords. He questioned every resident and employee multiple times, and he had harassed the homicide detective until the cop had ordered him escorted out of the home by a couple of uniforms.
When Alex cornered Darrin for questioning the first time, he’d felt the heated rush of Kinton’s rage flow across his chest. Heavenly. When he’d stopped Darrin in the hallway, nearly face-to-face in the narrow corridor, Alex had smelled like clean sweat and hot anger. The two men weren’t all that different. They were about the same height, but Darrin had ten years on the agent and Alex had a lot more hair.
“Where were you last night after nine o’clock?” Those steel eyes had been dagger sharp.
Darrin had put on his best worried face, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “In my room. I always watch TV after the residents go to bed in the evening.” He’d inhaled slowly through his nose to get more of Kinton’s scent. All pissed-off male.
“What’d you watch?” The question was like a whip.
“Uh. That guy in the jungle. The reality show where the army guy survives wherever the show decides to dump him. Then the local news.”
“Did you see Samuel go to his room that night?”
“Of course. I’m usually the one to get everyone moving in that direction. Kathy doesn’t care to supervise bedtime, and I don’t mind. I saw Samuel leave the bathroom and close the door to his room.”
Kinton had worked his jaw as Darrin watched in fascination and decided to throw him a little piece of bait. “I did hear someone’s door open around eleven or so. I figured someone was using the bathroom again.” Darrin scrunched his forehead. “The sound did come in the direction of Samuel’s room. I can’t say for sure that it was his door.”
Kinton’s jaw had grown harder. “Did you hear the door close?”
Darrin had twisted his mouth. “No…I can’t say I did. I was only paying attention to the TV.”
“Why didn’t you get up to check? Why didn’t you make sure that person was back in their room?” Alex had leaned forward an inch, somehow seeming taller at that second.
Darrin had blinked and stepped back a little, his spine touching the hallway wall. “Well, usually the residents are great about returning to their rooms. Kathy has never had a problem with wanderers before.” He’d injected a small quiver in his voice and licked his lips. He hadn’t thought Kinton’s eyes could get any hotter, but they did.
Darrin had started to sweat. In a good way.
“Rosa died the other day and you’re not watching the residents? You don’t get up to check late-night noises? Two people from this home are dead. Don’t you think you should’ve stepped it up a little?”
Darrin had thought his spine would melt. Kinton had been physically pumping testosterone into the air. Darrin had sniffed and dropped his gaze. “I guess I wasn’t thinking.”
“Thinking is what you’re paid to do! These people need extra attention,” the man had said with clenched teeth.
Darrin had squeezed his eyes shut, afraid he wouldn’t project the right level of sorrow. He’d been luxuriating in the hot rush. The whole confrontation had turned into an emotional heat wave Darrin had never experienced before.
Darrin had an empty chasm deep inside him. He felt nothing. All the time. Other people were born with something in their brains that Darrin was missing. An important chemical or hormone or synapse. Even as a child, he’d known something was wrong.
The antidote had appeared the first time he’d watched his young cousin die. He been in the pool with her and simply watched. The rush that’d rolled over him as her last breaths left her lungs had addicted him. He’d sought more from other victims over the years, needing his fix, feeding hungrily on their terror as he physically squeezed out their life’s essence. But Alex Kinton was giving him the same dizzying rush in his brain and Darrin hadn’t laid a hand on him.
“I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault. Maybe if I hadn’t been so tired your brother would still be alive.” He’d slowly let his eyes open, gradually dragging his gaze up from the floor, aching for the next reaction.
All color had rocketed out of Alex’s face, and his bloodless lips clamped together. His eyelids had widened the tiniest bit, and Darrin had held his breath. Alex had looked ready to collapse. Instead, the agent had turned, made tracks down the hallway, and strode out the front door. Pushing past two residents, Darrin had darted to watch from the living room window. Outside in the hot sun, Alex had leaned on his palms on the hood of his truck and stared down at the asphalt between his arms. He’d looked like a man resting from a hard run or someone waiting to vomit. He didn’t move as Darrin had slowly counted to ten.
Then Alex had abruptly straightened and taken a hard look at the group home over his shoulder. Darrin had darted one step to the right, hiding behind the curtain. Had Kinton seen him staring? Kinton’s gaze had slid to the gate to the backyard and pool of the house next door and his shoulders sagged. With a rough yank, he’d opened his truck door, climbed in, and left.
Darrin had exhaled, suddenly exhausted.
Alex Kinton had just led him on a roller coaster of adrenaline that rivaled Space Mountain. No, better than that. Faster, higher. And Darrin wanted another ride.
He’d figured surely Alex would be back soon.
Instead, Alex had returned and snatched Darrin’s discarded cigarette butt for DNA.
Darrin hadn’t left any DNA with Samuel or Rosa. But he had with Kimberly Brock, Susan Mannon, Claire Hines, and others. He’d known it was virtually impossible to avoid leaving DNA behind. He tried his best. He’d always figured the best way to protect himself was not let himself be tested, therefore avoiding any connections. Thanks to a computer database and a cigarette, suddenly he’d been linked to several of his victims.
So simple. He’d been brought down by evidence any CSI television show addict could have spotted. How had he been so stupid? Twenty years he’d slipped away from the police and then was brought down by something so trivial.
Him and Al Capone.
The day Darrin had been arrested had started like any other normal day. Until the swarm of police that showed up before breakfast. Alex had been there. Silent and watching. Staying back out of the cops’ way under the tree by the driveway.
Darrin had winked at Alex as the police pulled him down the driveway in handcuffs.
At least Alex had visited him in prison. It’d been Darrin’s idea. He’d reached out to the marshal, hinted that meeting with him in prison could be of benefit to other victims’ families. Alex had come, probably hoping that one day Darrin would confess to killing Samuel. Thanks to modern technology, he’d been linked to a lot of his crimes. But there’d been others the police didn’t know about. To keep Alex coming back he’d given names, dates, and locations, which Alex passed on to detectives. But never more than one tidbit a visit.
Alex had hounded Darrin, who soaked up every minute of it, getting off on the agent’s ragged grief and anger. In a way Darrin became Alex’s private therapist. Darrin wanted to know what made Alex tick. So he’d made Alex speak, telling Darrin about every shitty thing in his life in exchange for facts on Darrin’s victims. Now Darrin knew how it hurt to grow up with a retarded brother. Darrin knew about the selfish wife who made Alex choose between her and his brother. Darrin knew all too well about Alex’s asshole of a boss.
Quid pro quo.
He’d visit every few months. Sometimes every month. Each visit he seemed thinner and paler than the last. Like something was eating him from the inside out.
Alex had only crumbs of information to show for all the meat he’d sliced off his psyche and handed to Darrin. Alex’s visiting days were Darrin’s best prison days. He’d live for weeks off the buzz from being in the man’s potent presence.
Darrin rubbed his gloved hands together, annoyed with the bitter cold. It had been several months since he’d last seen Alex, and it’d made him irritable. Even with his pending escape, Darrin had been short-tempered. He’d known he’d have to give up the visits from Alex once he entered his new world in Mexico with a different identity, but that glorious future hadn’t kept away his irritation about permanently severing the bond with Alex.
There was some freaky compulsion that had pushed the two of them together. One angry man searching for answers and one empty man searching for emotion.
Brynn was past tears. Her face had dried as she dug, and she ignored the other men. She didn’t miss their furtive glances at her and at each other. She knew exactly what was on their minds.
How long do we dig?
She glanced at her watch. It’d been about twenty minutes since they’d started to dig. That wasn’t too bad. Surely Alex had ended up with some sort of oxygen cushion. He might still be breathing. I won’t give up, I won’t give up. She got a small burst of energy and bit her lip as she pushed her frozen hands deeper into the snow. Ryan rested on his knees and breathed hard.
“Take a break. You’re not a hundred percent,” Jim ordered.
“Just for a second.” He was out of breath and looked paler than Brynn liked. She figured she looked pale too. Every member of the team had shadows under their eyes.
Thomas paused and leaned on the shovel. “Maybe we should look somewhere else.”
“Where?” snapped Brynn. “You pointed here. You got another spot where you think you saw something?”
Thomas shook his head. “I’m just sayin’.”
“Well, unless you saw something, I vote we stay with this spot. There was a reason you led us here. Don’t start doubting yourself.”
It was the wrong thing to say. Skepticism and uncertainty swept Thomas’s face and he dropped his gaze. She’d put too much pressure on him. Now he’d feel responsible if they didn’t find Alex.
“No one else saw anything. This is our best spot,” she amended.
Thomas nodded without looking at her and started to shovel.
“Wait. Did you hear that?” Ryan held his hands out for silence.
Everyone froze and strained their ears. Brynn closed her eyes and heard silence.
“I don’t hear anything.” Jim’s gaze was searching in all directions. “What’d it sound like?”
“A soft ding. Like a chime.”
Brynn’s eyebrows shot up. “A chime? From what? Are you sure you heard something?”
Ryan’s face was tight with concentration. “I heard it. I know I did.”
“From where?”
Ryan glanced into the hole. “From there?”
“You don’t sound very certain.” Brynn pushed her hair over her shoulder. Had he heard something?