Undercover Wolf

Chapter 19

Needing a break from his cat-and-mouse discussion with Kelly, Quinn had claimed to need to go outside—not wanting to use the bathroom facilities in the one-room cabin, with its lack of privacy. He stood outside simply drinking in the sounds and scents for a moment, until he saw Kelly staring out a window at him. He walked away.

The next thing he did was to call Kristine. Fortunately, there was a phone signal in this area so close to the park, although it wasn’t very strong.

“Everything okay, Kristine?” he asked.

“Fine,” she said. “And with you?” Her voice sounded a bit strained, although that could just be the bad connection they had, with him off in the boonies like this.

“Fine,” he repeated. “You still with Holt?”

“No,” she said quickly.

“Then where are you?”

“Taking a walk. You?”

This conversation wasn’t yielding anything useful but reassuring him that Kristine was safe. And that had to be good enough.

“Still having a discussion with Kelly. I’ll tell you about it later.”

“Good. I’ll look forward to it.”

* * *

Of course Kristine wasn’t going to tell Quinn what was really going on—and who she was really with just then. Not till Olivante had explained what he’d been talking about.

Olivante and she had just sat down inside a coffee shop, at a table in a corner. Surprisingly, the place wasn’t very crowded for being near lunchtime. Maybe that was because this was a local shop, not part of a large chain.

Olivante was getting their order. After all the coffee she had drunk before, Kristine had asked for something cold and loaded with sugar—not her favorite drink, but she’d be able to sip it while chatting with him.

And hearing what he had to say.

When she hung up with Quinn she looked up to find Olivante just arriving with two cups in hand.

“Were you talking to your ‘hubby’?” he asked in a mocking tone.

She shrugged a shoulder. “Could be. Now, what did you want to tell me about him?”

* * *

Quinn went back inside the decrepit old cabin to talk some more with Kelly. But only for a short while.

Kristine’s attitude had bothered him. He had to go back to join her again, soon.

First, though, he wanted more answers here. But Kelly resumed playing games with him, laughing, as he had before, at Quinn’s demands to tell him what was really going on.

“I think it’s pretty obvious that I should be asking that,” the skinny fed said, waving Quinn’s card practically in his face as they knelt again beside the open suitcase.

“I think it’s pretty obvious,” Quinn had said in a mocking tone, “that I’m being set up.” Then he grew more serious. “But what I think is in both of our best interests—not to mention my brother’s and his wife’s—is to figure out how this bag and its contents got here and where my family members are right now.”

Their conversation went nowhere.

Kelly had made it clear, though, that, given his preferences he would have taken Quinn into federal custody immediately, demanding that he tell them where the missing, and obviously rogue, members of Alpha Force had gone. Oh, and by the way, had he physically helped them in their attacks on first the civilians, and then the cops? Or had he just helped to cover their trails, so to speak?

But apparently Kelly was under orders just to find what information he could and keep his superiors informed, at least for now.

A short while later, he was the one who left the cabin first, to Quinn’s relief.

Apparently Kelly had taken extensive photographs of this site but didn’t consider it a crime scene. He left Quinn there with no protest.

Which only puzzled Quinn all the more.

He nevertheless spent an additional few minutes examining that suitcase without Kelly’s interference.

Was this somehow part of the setup against him, along with his brother and sister-in-law? Or was there even more to it than he currently imagined?

Now, no more than ten minutes after he had watched Kelly’s rented car head back down the dirt road through Acadia, he took off after him—still with no answers.

* * *

No.

Whatever Kristine had expected this horrible government suit to come up with, it wasn’t this.

For a long moment, she stared at the sweet, almost untouched drink in front of her as she sat at the table with Olivante.

Sure, she’d figured before that Kelly and Holt could suspect that Quinn and she were somehow collaborating with Simon and Grace in their disappearance, but of course that was absurd.

At least it was as to her. But could Olivante be right about Quinn?

She looked up again at Olivante. Then, keeping her voice low as they had both been doing in this conversation, she asked, “What evidence do you have of any of that?”

“Some of it’s circumstantial. We haven’t found any indication of where the honeymooners currently are—not even their bodies—despite a fairly thorough search of areas where they’d been spotted or were otherwise likely to have been. We have come across some of their belongings in a remote part of Acadia that could indicate they were harmed, but there was no real proof of that. It was more like they had to flee before being found there—and there was some evidence that Quinn might have been with them. All we can extract from that so far is that they are probably in hiding somewhere. Since your ‘husband,’ Quinn, insisted on going against direct orders and coming here to look for them—and since what we found indicates he might have been with them at least at some point—that suggests he’s part of the conspiracy.”

“That’s a stretch,” Kristine countered, trying to keep her temper. “And if it were true, why on earth would he bring me along? I might figure it out and expose it all.”

“You’re a distraction,” Olivante said calmly. “Part of the role he’s playing to hide whatever is going on. He must believe he can control you, or at least point you in different directions to ensure that you don’t learn the truth.”

“That makes no sense!” she countered, even as her mind started dissecting the possibilities.

Of course Quinn would have wanted to come here when his brother and sister-in-law disappeared, to learn what had happened to them—as well as to try to figure out any involvement, real or manufactured, with the tourists’ deaths.

Could Simon and Grace really be involved in something else, something they hadn’t revealed to Major Connell or anyone else at Alpha Force—something to help the unit? Kristine knew them well enough, especially Grace, to be sure they wouldn’t intentionally do anything to harm it.

Kristine had been like Grace’s right arm on their last assignment together. Her backup and advisor. Her friend.

She couldn’t believe that Grace had gone rogue, nor Simon, either.

But if they were doing something to benefit Alpha Force?

And if so, might Quinn really know what they were up to? Be involved, too?

Of the four of them, Kristine was the only one who wasn’t a shapeshifter. Had they chosen her as a patsy to help with their cover because she was the outsider and couldn’t fully relate to what they were up to?

With his werewolf mentality, he’d consider his place in his family’s pack, his loyalty to them, a lot more important than anything he might feel about Alpha Force.

But surely she’d have known. She would have sensed something in Grace’s attitude, or Quinn’s. She had worked so closely with Grace before. And now, with Quinn...well, two people couldn’t get a whole lot closer, physically, at least, than they had.

But did she read him well enough to know if there was something beneath the surface that he was hiding from her?

“We’d appreciate it if you’d keep an open mind, Kristine,” Olivante said. “For one thing...well, we’ve gotten a warrant and traced calls to and from Quinn’s phone. All the times he claimed not to have reached Simon? False. There was even a text message he received yesterday from Simon that said ‘Thanks, bro.’”

Kristine’s body froze. That simply couldn’t be.

But before she could voice her incredulity, Olivante continued. “There are some things I’d like to show you. They may convince you I’m telling the truth—or at least that what I’m saying may be real. If so, we’d like you to work with us. We’ll devise a scenario that you can play out with Quinn, gauge his reactions. Maybe even get him to lead us to the other Parrans, if what we suspect is true. Okay?”

“I’d like some time to think about this,” she said.

“Time is something we don’t have,” he countered. “Besides, do you think you could just get back together with Quinn, continue to play the games you’ve been playing—and not have him realize that you’re at least a little suspicious now?”

“I...I’m not sure,” she said. But she was sure. Quinn was an investigator by profession. He was trained to spot people in lies, or at least to suspect them.

Plus, they’d been close in so many ways, working together.

Sleeping together.

Could she just walk away from Olivante, spend the night with Quinn again and keep him from figuring out that something was on her mind? Something that could change their relationship—professional and, to the extent they had one, personal—forever?

“All right,” she said reluctantly. “Show me what you’ve got.” At least that way, if it had no credibility, she could return to Quinn’s presence without qualms. Maybe even tell him about it so they could use whatever it was in their own investigation.

“Okay,” Olivante said. “Let’s go.”

* * *

She took a restroom break first, mostly because she knew she had to get in touch with Quinn.

She wasn’t stupid enough to fully trust Olivante and everything he said. Not until she saw the supposed proof that Simon and Grace had gone bad and Quinn was joining them.

But she had to act as if she bought, or at least didn’t completely reject, Olivante’s story, in case he did reveal something helpful.

The smart thing for her to do was to keep in touch with Quinn, at least act as if she trusted him fully until, and if, she had some proof otherwise. But right now, she didn’t want a long conversation with him. He’d tell her to get out of there, or at least wait till he caught up. He would give her his version, true or false.

And then she would get nothing from Olivante.

So, to avoid any issues, she sent Quinn a text message.

* * *

Quinn was in his car, hurrying back to Bar Harbor, when his cell phone beeped, the signal for a text message. He pulled it from his pocket. He wasn’t surprised that it was from Kristine—but he didn’t like what it said: Interesting development. Don’t call me. Will report when I can.

What development? How?

And did she really think he would just sit back somewhere, grab a beer and wait for her next communication?

No, whatever she was up to, he had to know about it. With all the unknown factors, with those feds acting so confrontational, she could be putting herself into danger.

Good thing he was nearly out of Acadia.

The winding roads made speeding difficult—but not impossible.

* * *

Olivante’s silver sedan was apparently a rental. It resembled the one Quinn and she had hired.

“I flew up here in a chopper from D.C.,” he acknowledged when she commented on the vehicle. He sat in the driver’s seat with his flabby hands on the steering wheel, the seat pushed back to accommodate his extended gut. His white shirt was wrinkled now, but she had been right about the suit. She saw the jacket and tie on the backseat. “Rented this when I got here.”

Kristine continually assessed both the driver and the direction in which they were driving. Best she could tell, it was south. They were already on an extension of Bar Harbor’s Main Street that led into Acadia National Park.

“Where are we heading?” she asked, not for the first time. He had skillfully changed the subject each time before. Irritating? Yes. And disturbing.

He laughed. “When you get a question in your mind, you’re definitely determined to get an answer, aren’t you? What I want to show you is at the house I rented here.”

“You rented a house?” Why hadn’t he just taken a room at the same hotel as his minions?

“Yeah. The guys who report to me are moving in there, too. They were staying at that nice hotel since we thought their visit here would be fast—figure out what happened to those dead folks and the involvement of the Parrans, and return to D.C. to report. But it’s taking longer, so I’ve leased a house. I can stay there, too, and bring in more people to help in the investigation if necessary. Renting by the month will save money in the long run.”

Sounded logical—if one could believe that anybody working for the government would try to minimize expenses. She’d reserve judgment.

“As a taxpayer, I appreciate that,” she said lightly. “But where is it? We’re out of Bar Harbor now. Did you rent a cabin in the park somewhere?”

He glanced at her with a huge grin on his face. His apparent amusement made Kristine feel anything but amused. “No, and as a taxpayer you shouldn’t be entirely pleased. It’s outside the major town on this island, but the place still isn’t cheap. It’s a fairly nice house just outside Seal Harbor.”

“So let’s talk on the way. What do you want to show me? It must appear to tie Simon and Grace to the killings or you wouldn’t consider it useful, right?”

“I’m a good soldier, Sgt. Norwood.” The sudden nastiness of his tone startled Kristine. He leaned over the steering wheel, his gaze straight out the windshield. “Or I was. Now, as a civilian member of the Department of Defense, I’m a different kind of public servant. I don’t make assumptions—not without proof.”

“I didn’t say—”

“You don’t have to.”

Kristine felt even more ill at ease than before. Though she was damned good at using self-defense measures, she certainly didn’t want to do something while they were on the road. Not unless she had to.

But her sense of wanting to hear what Olivante had to say was growing, too. Something definitely didn’t feel right, and she needed to know more.

Too bad she hadn’t waited for Quinn. She might need his backup even more than she’d imagined.

Especially since Olivante kept glancing in the rearview mirror. Maybe he figured she’d gotten Quinn to follow, and he expected Quinn to pull up behind them.

Was this a trap for her? For both of them? But why?

For now, she would change the subject, get Olivante talking about something neutral. Something he liked.

What better than himself?

“You said you used to be a soldier,” she said lightly. “Which branch?”

“Not special ops or anything outside the regular military,” he responded through gritted teeth. “Nothing like your Alpha Force. No, I was in the Marines. Liked it there. Learned a lot, and rose through the ranks pretty fast. Made it to Chief Warrant Officer 5, and it looked good for me to rise even higher. But I saw that the real authority didn’t always come from our officers, not even our generals, but from the civilians they had to report to and satisfy, so I decided to go that way.”

Which meant he no longer went on field exercises or otherwise had to stay in shape, Kristine noted. That might work in her favor.

Although...despite his thick gut, she noticed that his upper arms filled out his white shirt very well, and as he drove along the twisty road she saw his muscles flex.

The guy could be strong. And with a Marine’s training behind him, he might not be a pushover if she had to engage in hand-to-hand combat with him.

No, it would be better if she could just use her brain to come out of this with the information she wanted. And her life.

“That sounds good,” she told Olivante. “I’m a nurse by background, but I liked the idea of the military so I enlisted.” That had to be neutral enough.

“Then why did you decide to join a unit as irregular as Alpha Force?” He seemed to spit the words at her.

Once again she glanced around. They were inside the park now, on Route 3, called Otter Creek Road. The road wasn’t very wide, and cars were passing the other direction. There was no good way to escape this guy, even if she decided that was wise.

For right now, she would continue to play along.

“It just sounded interesting,” she said carefully. “I gather that you know of the unusual background of Alpha Force. It sounded like you did while we were at Ft. Lukman, and you spoke with General Yarrow.”

“It’s ludicrous!” he exclaimed. “Maybe. Tell me, Sgt. Norwood, are you a shapeshifter?”

Kristine laughed. She had anticipated the question, but not so fast and directly. “Not hardly.”

“But some members of Alpha Force are.” Although his tone was fairly neutral, she sensed that he was holding back what he really wanted to say.

“Is this some kind of test?” she asked lightly. “You know enough about Alpha Force to understand that we all have very high security clearances—and that we’re all under very strict orders not to discuss who we are or what we do with anybody outside Alpha Force. That includes anyone in the Department of Defense.”

“Of course I know that. And maybe I was testing you. But I admit I don’t like the idea of a unit so full of secrets even from those charged with its oversight. It’s a farce and unprofessional, unmilitary, to have a unit that’s so covert that its very existence is all based on sly references to activities that most people consider paranormal—and to use those claims, and those very real abilities, as a means of getting control in combat and other serious situations.”

“But it’s so cool, sir. At least I think so. And it’s all to the advantage of our country.”

“Not if—” he began, then stopped.

Not if what? Was Olivante upset because he wasn’t within the elite central group given actual knowledge of more than the basic character of Alpha Force? Or was he truly acting in what he considered the best interests of the country in possibly opposing a rare and unique—and therefore potentially difficult-to-control—military unit?

“I believe in the damned things,” he hissed. “I know they’re real. That’s one reason I wanted jurisdiction over this particularly bizarre troop. I know of a lot of personnel within the Department of Defense who just laugh at the whole idea.”

Maybe that was a good thing—although for continued funding, for continued existence, Alpha Force had to keep up its good work, meet its goals, go where more usual military units could not succeed. And if those they reported to had doubts about them... Although Olivante claimed he believed. And Kristine was aware that at least one member of the House Armed Services Committee—Congressman Crandall Crowther—knew exactly what they were and how they achieved their accomplishments.

In fact, one of his aides, Alec Landerson, was involved with one of their shifters—Lt. Nella Reyes, who shifted into a lynx.

But knowledge of Alpha Force was on a need-to-know basis, and not everyone in any part of the DoD was considered to have that need, no matter how highly they were placed.

“But you buy into the possibilities? You don’t laugh?” Maybe she was pushing too much, but—

“Oh, yeah. I buy into it. Too much. The unit’s clearly out of control, and something needs to be done about that.” His tone made her blood turn to ice.

This was definitely not a man who should have jurisdiction over Alpha Force—not when he obviously had conflicts about its existence.

But Kristine already knew that. Major Connell had talked about a meeting in the Pentagon. Kristine now surmised that Team Leader Olivante was one of the suits who wanted to disband Alpha Force.

They were now out of the national park and had reached the outskirts of the village of Seal Harbor. Olivante made a few turns on narrow roads, and Kristine attempted to recall the names of each, as long as she saw the street signs.

Then, Olivante drove onto a street off Upland Road, and then up a driveway.

At the top was a large house, imposing with its dormers and curved windows, an example of attractive New England architecture.

“Here we are,” he said, turning off the engine. “Come in and I’ll show you around.”

“And you’ll show me the evidence you were talking about.”

“Right,” he said in a tone that gave Kristine no confidence at all.

Okay, she might have made a mistake in agreeing to come here. But she would do more than survive this.

She would pay attention to Olivante. Outwit him. Get answers.

She thought again of Quinn. He’d be furious with her for acting on her own.

Or would he be glad for an excuse to allow harm to come to her? Could Olivante be right about his involvement?

She wouldn’t believe that until she had more evidence than the word of this man she didn’t trust. But, right or wrong, she did trust Quinn. Mostly.

Although that pack mentality thing bothered her. Might he be conspiring with Simon and Grace?

But why? And to do what?

Somehow, she would let Quinn know where she was, let him come in. See if he tried to help.

And wouldn’t it be great, considering Olivante’s attitude, if Quinn showed up here changed into a wolf?