Chapter 18
Kristine felt inexplicably nervous that night.
Heck, of course it was explainable, she realized, as she lay awake under the covers in the firm hotel room bed, her eyes wide-open in the dark after another bout of incredible lovemaking with Quinn.
It had been so hot and intense and consuming that it felt to Kristine as if they both feared it would be their last.
But as she knew well, each experience of incredible sex with Quinn could be their last. They were here in Bar Harbor on borrowed time and could be forced to leave on a moment’s notice. There was no way they’d ever be able to get together like this again in real life, as members of the military. As an officer and an NCO, both members of Alpha Force.
Kristine didn’t dwell on it—or at least she tried not to. Instead, what made her nervous was her pondering of their next confrontation with those feds who thought they knew about Alpha Force—and the fact that Quinn and she were defying orders by conducting their own investigation.
Although...Kelly and Holt might have some jurisdiction here, but they were really just flunkies, doing whatever they were under orders to do by their superiors at the DSPA.
And unlike Quinn and her, they did not seem inclined to disobey orders. Why should they? They weren’t emotionally involved in their assignment here. They were just doing their jobs.
Somehow, during their discussion at breakfast today, Kristine had to finally figure out how to make the two men believe that their interests coincided with Quinn’s and hers. That by sharing information about the latest attack—and anything so far unrevealed about the first one—would be useful to them.
“You awake?” came a throaty whisper from behind her. She turned over and found herself in Quinn’s arms, under his hard body, almost instantaneously.
And for that exquisite moment, all thoughts fled once more.
* * *
The BarHar Bistro’s claim to fame must mostly be at night, Quinn thought as Kristine and he walked in. All the tables still sported red-and-white-checked tablecloths, and now they were a lot more visible among the scanty breakfast crowd.
The people who sat at the few occupied tables looked like tourists—overeager ones, ready to tour Bar Harbor from dawn till dusk.
All of the tables but one. There, in the farthest corner, Kelly and Holt were already there. Staring toward the doorway.
At Kristine and him.
“Over there.” He pointed toward them, then gently touched Kristine’s arm to guide her in that direction. Bad idea. Touching her at all reminded him of last night. Hell, just being with her, inhaling her fresh yet sexy scent, it all reminded him of being with her and sharing yet another amazing night filled with delicious and memorable sex.
He quickly cleared his mind. He had to. He needed his wits fully about him for the upcoming conversation.
They both wore jeans that day with generic T-shirts, his green and hers black. He loved the way hers hugged her curves...but that was something else he cast to the back of his mind.
“Gentlemen,” he said, holding his hand out as they reached the table. Both Kelly and Holt stood and shook hands with Kristine and him. They, too, were dressed casually, as if they were not acting officially for the feds.
Which Quinn didn’t believe for an instant.
They all sat down and just looked at one another.
“So...how can we all work together to solve this situation?” That was his congenial Kristine, of course. She’d want this meeting to result in win-win situations for all of them.
So did he, but he doubted it would happen.
Even so, he said, “That’s right. Do you two have any ideas?”
“Yeah,” Kelly said, his hazel eyes darting from one to the other of them from his skeletal face. “You two can follow orders and go home, and leave it to the people with real authority to find whatever’s killing people here—even if they have something to do with your damned Alpha Force.”
“That’s still your position?” Quinn tried to keep his voice calm but knew he wasn’t succeeding. “You’re blaming Alpha Force?”
Kristine clearly caught the tension that was rising among the men at the table. She rose slightly. “Please remember that Alpha Force members are victims here. At least until we know otherwise. Simon and Grace are still missing, and it’s been so long now, with no one finding any evidence of where they are—there’s no reason to assume they’re involved in the killings. They might have been killed, too, and their bodies not yet found.”
The server came over then, brought coffee and menus. That seemed to ease some of the tension at the table.
Especially since Quinn had noticed Kelly and Holt exchanging glances that appeared to communicate something about what Kristine had said. Agreeing with it? No way.
But if they disagreed...why?
He decided to ask—obliquely. “I suspect that there’s an official position on their disappearance, isn’t there?” He looked directly at Kelly. “Look, I don’t want to make any trouble. That was never my intention. But I need to know what’s going on with my brother and his bride.”
“And you really don’t know what it is.” Holt didn’t make it a question, but something in what he said, and the way he stated it, suggested that he believed otherwise.
“No,” Quinn said, trying not to let the gritting of his teeth seem too obvious. “If I knew, why would I be here, especially under these difficult circumstances?” Which he didn’t have to elaborate on. They all knew that Kristine and he weren’t officially supposed to be here.
“Good question,” said Holt, a small smile puffing out his round cheeks even more.
“Why did you agree to talk to us this morning?” Kristine sounded upset and frustrated, but she had to hold it while they gave their orders to the server—an older lady this time, not the young babe who’d waited on them the night they’d been here.
Eventually, they were alone again, and Kristine repeated her question.
“Just wanted to find out your take on who attacked those cops and killed one,” Kelly said. He was smiling, too, and it seemed condescending, as though he knew the truth and wanted to find out if they did.
“We have no idea,” Kristine said. “Do you?”
“Nope,” Kelly said too quickly, looking straight at Quinn with his eyebrows raised. “Do you?”
“Of course he doesn’t,” Kristine said. But Kelly’s response left Quinn certain that he knew something—something that the two of them from Alpha Force didn’t know and wouldn’t like.
“I know it was off-limits to the locals, but did you have DNA tests conducted after the first maulings?” Quinn asked. “Any indication of what kind of animal killed those tourists, and if there was more than one that attacked?” It was way too soon for any results if they’d done any testing after the cops were attacked.
“Yeah, there were tests, but no conclusive results,” Kelly said. “Looked maybe like one animal, but we’re not sure.”
One? When they were trying to frame both Simon and Grace?
On the other hand, if the DNA testing wasn’t conclusive, maybe whoever it was didn’t have access to either of them.
Where were they? That question continued to burn through Quinn, but he knew he wouldn’t get his answers here.
Even so, he continued to push for information about what the feds knew—or at least suspected. But the games continued through breakfast. Mostly, they talked about what had already appeared in the news, how the media likened the more recent attacks to the prior ones. How they called for better animal control in Acadia. Of course it had been some kind of wild beast—only one?—that was on a rampage, killing humans.
But everyone at this table suspected otherwise.
Problem was, it seemed clear that no matter what the limited evidence said, Kelly and Holt held on to their prior beliefs, that somehow Simon and Grace had gone rogue, were out to disgrace and bring down Alpha Force. Didn’t make sense to them, though, since they apparently only had heard rumors about the special shifting elixir. But that wouldn’t have stopped the couple from making it appear that the attacks were done by wild animals.
Quinn, on the other hand, knew it had to be someone else with that very goal: bringing down Alpha Force. Someone controlling actual wild animals? Another shifter outside the unit with some other kind of shifting formula?
When they were done eating, Kelly excused himself to go to the restroom. As he stood, he leveled a really odd look toward Quinn, along with a tiny nod of his head, as if he wanted Quinn to accompany him.
Which he did, through the rows of tables and down the hall.
In the restroom, Kelly glanced around as if assuring himself that they were alone. Then he said, “We’re not accomplishing anything here, are we?”
“No,” Quinn agreed.
“Then how ’bout if I show you something that will assure you that our position is right? Just you, though. Since you’re related to one of the ‘missing’ people—or whatever they are—you have more of a stake in this.” He made it clear from his tone that he didn’t consider the honeymooners missing at all.
“Fine,” Quinn said. He’d be wary, of course. He didn’t trust anything Kelly said. But whatever it was that Kelly wanted to show him, he’d keep Kristine out of it. Keep her safe.
* * *
Quinn recognized that Kristine wasn’t thrilled when they separated after breakfast. He would have been amused by the irritated look on her face, that belligerent lift of her chin, if he’d had time. But Kelly was clearly in a hurry.
In fact, they left while Holt and Kristine were still finishing their food, with just a cockamamy story about checking out a lead Kelly received on his cell while they were off peeing at the same time.
Quinn didn’t like leaving her with Holt, but she’d be safe here, in public. He was taking their rental car, following Kelly toward Acadia, although the guy still wouldn’t explain where they were going, damn him.
But at least this way Kristine would need to stay in town. Holt had already described where he was going when they were done eating, and it involved going to talk to the cops again—nothing that would include Kristine.
Quinn followed Kelly’s car through Bar Harbor onto twisty roads leading to the shoreline, then upward along the outer perimeter of Acadia.
Eventually, Kelly pulled into a remote turnoff and parked. Quinn did the same.
When they both had exited their cars, Quinn stood on the gravel and looked around. The forest was thick enough here that all he could see was trees, not the water below.
“Why are we here?” he demanded of Kelly.
“Follow me. I’ll show you.” Kelly marched off onto a path that led into the forest.
Good thing Quinn was wearing athletic shoes. The undergrowth was thick and, since it had rained recently, slippery. But he had no trouble keeping up with the thin fed who clearly kept in good condition.
Surprisingly, in this remote area, they soon got to a small log cabin. It looked old and weathered, as if it had been there for a long time without any work being done on it.
“What’s this?” Quinn asked.
Kelly just beckoned for him to follow as he twisted open the rusty metal knob on the front door and walked in.
Quinn wondered if the place was ready to fall down on anyone entering—but he was too curious not to follow the fed inside.
Kelly flicked a switch, and a light appeared in the middle of the room from a naked bulb hanging from the ceiling.
It was as worn-out inside as out, with the bare wood walls looking rotted, a single room with a toilet at one end, a sink at the other and not much in between except for two cots with what appeared to be clean sheets on them.
There was also a suitcase along one wall. A generic-looking one to be sure, but it was black and appeared to be of the same brand as one owned by Simon. But Quinn figured he thought about that only because he was here to be shown something that could prove Simon’s involvement in whatever was happening. Maybe Grace’s, too.
“This look familiar?” Kelly asked with a snide grin. He bent down and opened it.
Inside were clothes. Jeans and T-shirts, underwear, an extra pair of shoes.
And a camo uniform that looked like the kind worn by Alpha Force.
That didn’t prove anything.
But the name tag Kelly pulled out that read Simon Parran? That was another story.
And what was even odder?
He also yanked from the suitcase a hoodie that looked a lot like the one Quinn had misplaced. He put out his hand and felt the fabric, then took it from Kelly.
“You looking for this?” Kelly asked, holding out a small piece of paper. “I got it out of the pocket.”
Quinn looked at it.
It was one of his P.I. business cards.
* * *
Kristine was worried.
She remained with Holt in the restaurant, still sipping on coffee and taunting her with planning on revealing something to her—in a while.
But not just yet, damn him.
She’d asked Holt immediately, after Quinn left with Kelly, “Where are they going—and why?”
“That’s between them,” he’d replied with a snide grin. “But I bet your husband isn’t going to enjoy it.”
“Is he in danger?” Kristine had reached down for her purse, which rested on the floor beside her, wondering why she’d stayed in that dratted restaurant with Holt. She should have followed Quinn.
But her curiosity had kept her there.
“Oh, danger is everywhere, don’t you think?” Damn the guy even more. He seemed to be enjoying himself by irritating her this way.
“I’ll make sure it is,” she’d replied through gritted teeth.
That had gotten to him. His expression segued from snideness to anger. “I need a drink,” he said. Never mind that it was still morning, she wanted to tell him. But she didn’t have to. “I’m not going to order one, though. Know why?” He didn’t wait for her to hazard a guess. “Because, thanks to you and your guy, we’re still off alcohol.”
“Obviously caffeine doesn’t hurt you,” she’d responded with a snide grin of her own. “This morning, you seem to be drinking even more coffee than last time.”
“Yeah, it’s fine.” Holt took another sip, then scanned the restaurant with his gaze before looking at his watch.
That had been almost forty-five minutes ago, and they were still there. He was still holding the carrot of additional information out to her without letting her nibble on it.
She was getting damned tired of that.
Time for her to go find Quinn.
“Well, it’s been fun,” she said, reaching down to gather her purse. She looked around the place, too. It was getting more crowded, perhaps with people after brunch or an early lunch. With their current slow sipping of coffee and no additional purchases behind it, she felt certain the restaurant would be happy to have them leave.
“Okay, let’s walk,” Holt said. Not exactly what she wanted to do, but at least the feds had been generous enough to pay for their breakfasts.
Out on the street, Holt began strolling slowly, as if he was one of the sightseeing tourists surrounding them, which only annoyed Kristine.
“Look, unless you give me a good reason to hang out with you, I’m leaving.” Dread suddenly coursed through her. “Did you hang out with me to keep me from going with Quinn? You never really answered my question about danger.”
“Could be,” he said. “But there’s more to it than that.” He took hold of her arm and kept her from slipping away through the crowd of tourists meandering around them and window shopping at some of the nearby stores.
She’d stopped feeling in charge of this situation. She stopped, ignoring Holt’s tug on her arm. “Let me go,” she commanded, staring up into his rotund face.
“Oh, I don’t think so. Do you really want me not to reveal the information I’d planned to tell you?”
“I don’t believe there is any information,” Kristine spat at him, tugging again, still fairly gently. But if she had to, she would use stronger, more skillful techniques on him. Hell, she was in the military, trained for combat. A little confrontation like this was nothing. She could handle it.
“Fine,” Holt said. “Maybe you can tell me something interesting instead.”
“Forget that.”
“Fine.” He looked beyond her down the street.
She turned. A familiar-looking figure was heading toward them.
The team leader for special projects within the Defense Special Projects Agency, Darren Olivante? Here?
This couldn’t be good.
Kelly and Holt obviously reported to him, but she’d figured it was indirect, that there were other lower-ranking government employees between them in their official chain of command.
But here he was. Why?
“Sorry I’m late, Holt,” Olivante said. “And Staff Sergeant Norwood, isn’t it? So glad to see you—even though I didn’t think anyone from Alpha Force was authorized to be here just now.” His gaze was steely from beneath his thick glasses, but his flabby lips were pursed in an expression that looked almost amused.
Kristine stood frozen in place. What should she do now? Wasn’t this one of the people opposing General Yarrow—wanting to shut down Alpha Force?
“I’m here on vacation,” she said lightly, repeating yet again the lie that had become so natural to her. She didn’t bother trying to refute his identification of her. No way would he buy that she was the new Mrs. Scott on her honeymoon, not any more than these other DSPA guys had.
“Right. Well, from what I’ve gathered my men, here, have had a difficult time doing their job thanks to you and Lt. Parran—Quinn Parran, that is. Is he with you? Oh, yes, right. I understand he’s with Mr. Kelly right now.” He grinned almost maliciously, which sent shivers of concern down Kristine’s back. His salt-and-pepper hair seemed a bit longer now, deemphasizing the roundness of his face. He wore a white shirt and dressy gray slacks, but if they were part of his uniform—a suit—he’d at least removed the jacket and tie.
“I guess so,” Kristine said. What should she do? Retreating seemed the best option. “Well, very nice to see you, sir. I’ll be leaving now.”
“I know you’ve already had breakfast, but why don’t we grab another cup of coffee?” the deputy said. “Holt, you can get on your way to that other assignment I gave you for today. I have something to discuss with Sgt. Norwood.”
Kristine wondered what was on the guy’s mind but didn’t necessarily want to find out.
“Thanks anyway,” she began, but he interrupted her.
“If you were going to say no, don’t. I think you’ll be very interested in what I have to tell you.” He bent down toward her and whispered, “It’s about Quinn Parran. And it goes to the very core of saving Alpha Force.”
Undercover Wolf
Linda O. Johnston's books
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