And even though it was obvious she didn't want to be with her grandparents, she was always looking over at them, silently seeking permission for...something. Hannah hadn't thought anything about it—the girl was young, of course she'd want to hang around people closer to her own age. But something about the whole thing suddenly struck her as off somehow.
Or maybe she was just jumping to the wrong conclusions because of last night. Thinking that some unknown bad guys were going to find them inside the cave had scared her. The only reason she hadn't completely freaked out had been because of Ryder, knowing he was there, knowing he'd protect her.
And the sight of all those guns had rattled her, as well, maybe even more than the thought that someone was going to walk in on them. Who had put them there? And why? How long had they been there? Was this something totally new, or had she and Allison stumbled onto something that had been going on for a while?
Hannah took another sip of coffee and casually studied everyone around her. Another thought pushed its way to the front of her mind. She placed the cup down then leaned toward Allison.
"You don't think any of them are involved, do you?"
"What? No, of course not." A frown creased her face as she looked around. Shook her head. Frowned even deeper. "No. They couldn't be. We'd know somehow. We'd be able to tell—"
"Like we could tell Tim's been sneaking out?"
Allison's mouth snapped shut. Her gaze darted over to the man in question then shot back to Hannah. She shook her head again, but there was no conviction in it—or in her voice when she spoke.
"It's not him."
"We don't know that. It could be. It could be any of them."
"Would you listen to what you're saying? Do you actually think anyone here is capable of murder? Because that's what you're saying."
"Murder? I didn't—"
"Yes, murder. Or are you forgetting about the body they found the other day? The one who just happened to be the same guy we saw on the beach with those other two men?"
No, she hadn't forgotten—but she had conveniently put it out of her mind, at least in connection to the group of people around her.
Murder.
The word sent a cold chill dancing across her skin, put an entirely new perspective on the way she viewed everyone around her. Could any of them be capable of murder?
Hannah didn't want to think they could but the truth of the matter was, she simply didn't know.
She couldn't know, because she didn't know any of them.
Funny how that had never bothered her before. How it had never even really crossed her mind before. She'd been too wrapped up in the day-to-day, worried about completing their small list of projects down here, knowing how important each one was. Worried about their lack of resources and manpower. Frustrated at Kevin's lack of direction and constant changing of priorities. But she'd plugged away, her and Allison both, doing what they could with each group that came down to help. Some weeks, they had more help than they knew what to do with. Other weeks, they were scrambling to accomplish even the smallest tasks. The next few weeks would be like that, as the holidays approached and fewer and fewer people signed on to help. Even Hannah and Allison would both be going home for a small break before signing on for another six-month commitment. At least, Hannah would be—Allison hadn't really decided yet.
And now, for the first time in three years, Hannah herself was starting to question if she wanted to come back.
Anger shot through her, brief and totally unexpected. Of course she'd be coming back. She loved what she did. Loved the people. The culture. Loved knowing that she was making a difference. No, she wasn't going to get rich doing it—but she didn't care about the money. That wasn't why she had chosen this calling. She'd chosen it because she believed in what she was doing, believed in helping others.
Now someone was threatening to take that away from her—and it could be someone who was here with her right now.
She curled her hands into fists and shoved them into her lap. No! No, she was not going to start thinking that way. That wasn't who she was. She wasn't the suspicious type, always suspecting those around her, always questioning other's motives. She trusted people. Not blindly—she wasn't quite that foolish. Whatever was going on wouldn't change that. She couldn't let it, refused to let it.
Hannah took a deep breath and pushed the possibility that she could be breathing the same air as a murderer from her mind. The entire idea was ludicrous.
A sharp clap made her jump, startling her more than it should have. She looked around, swallowed back a nervous laugh when she noticed Kevin standing in the middle of the pavilion, his hands braced on lean hips as he looked around him.
A lord, surveying his fiefdom.
And oh, good God, where did that thought come from? She swallowed back another nervous laugh, her face heating from embarrassment when Kevin looked over at her, his eyes narrowed in irritation.
"Time to clean up. We leave in ten minutes."
Chairs scraped against the concrete floor as everyone pushed away from their tables, chatting quietly as they started the process of cleaning up. It wouldn't take long—it never did because there wasn't much to clean up. Allison had already placed the fruit back in the refrigerator and the coffee pots had been emptied and cleaned before Hannah sat down. That left mugs, bowls, and silverware, all quickly washed and dried and put away.
Hannah dried her hands on a towel then looked around, finally asking Allison the question that she'd been wanting to ask all morning. "Where's your brother?"
"I'm not sure. Colter was here earlier, just long enough to grab two cups of coffee, but I haven't seen him since."
"Who?"
"Colter." Allison tilted her head to the side then rolled her eyes. "His friend? The guy who came down with him?"
"Oh. Ninja." His real name was Colter? Why didn't she know that? She mentally brushed the question away and looked around. "So where are they now?"
"No idea but wherever they are, they better hurry. Kevin isn't going to want to wait for them."
No, he wouldn't. In fact, he'd probably leave them behind and take great delight in doing so. Hannah quickly folded the small towel and placed it on the chipped counter. "They're probably in their bungalow. I'll go get them."
"I'll go with you."
"You don't need to."
"Maybe not, but at least this way I know you won't get, um, distracted."
Hannah stumbled to a stop and whirled toward Allison. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"Just what I said." Allison grinned then gave her a teasing nudge in the arm. "I'm not blind, you know. I know you were with him the other night."
"But I—he—" Hannah clamped her mouth shut, inhaled through her nose and quickly exhaled. "It's not what you think."
"Did I say anything? No, I didn't. And I'm not judging, either." Allison grinned again. "I've always thought you two were destined to be together."
Hannah shook her head. No, it definitely wasn't what her friend thought. And she had to stop Allison from even thinking that way. God forbid if she slipped and accidentally said something in front of anyone—especially Ryder. "It's not like that. And we're not together. We never were, so don't even go there."
"You're in denial."
"No, I'm not. Trust me, I'm really, really not." She hurried away from Allison before she could say anything else, before her friend could comment on the way Hannah's face had turned red or the way the words had hitched in her chest when she spoke. She'd knock on Ryder's bungalow and let them know they were getting ready to leave, and that would be that.
Hannah was several feet away, Allison right behind her, when the bungalow door opened. Ryder stepped out, wearing the same tan cargo pants he'd had on yesterday. A dark t-shirt pulled tight across his chest, the sleeves stretched around his thick biceps. His damp hair was tousled, as if he'd done nothing more than run his hands through it when he stepped out of the shower. Dark stubble covered his jaw, which only mad
e the scowl on his face more menacing.
His gaze met hers and that scowl deepened. No, this was more than a scowl—this was anger like she'd never seen before. Hannah started to back away, froze when he pointed at her—at both of them.
"We need to talk. Now."
Chapter Thirteen
The color drained from Hannah's face. Her eyes widened as she glanced over her shoulder, then narrowed when she turned back to him. Ryder expected her to spin around and take off in the other direction. Hell, he'd probably do the same damn thing if anyone barked at him the way he'd just barked at her.
Fuck it. He'd apologize later but right now he was pissed. No, pissed didn't even begin to cover it—he was fucking livid. After what he'd just learned, they were lucky he wasn't tearing the weasel's head from his neck.
Hell, he still might do that.
Ryder pointed at Hannah again. "We need to talk. Now. Get in here."
She started to shake her head, actually took a single step back, but Allison nudged her forward. His gaze shot to his sister, freezing her in place before she could make her own escape. "That means you, too, so don't even think about it."
"Me? What did I do?"
Ryder stepped to the side and motioned toward them. "Get inside. Now."
The two women looked at each other, some kind of silent communication passing between them. They both hesitated, until Hannah finally straightened her shoulders and stepped toward him. He thought she'd move right past him and head into the bungalow but no, that would have been asking for too much. She stopped, tilted her head back to meet his gaze, and frowned. "What is your problem?"
His problem? Fuck, where did he start? Thanks to that fucking phone call, he had a list at least a mile long. But he couldn't explain that, not right now, not with the weasel heading their way.
He stepped around Hannah, using his body to push her inside. Then he grabbed Allison's arm and tugged her toward him, dipped his head and whispered in her ear. "Get rid of him. I don't care how you do it, just do it. Now."
And thank God Allison finally picked up on the fact that something was wrong. She quickly nodded and turned toward the weasel, a bright smile on her face. "We'll be right there, Kevin."
"We're leaving—"
"I know. It'll only be a few minutes."
Ryder ground his teeth together. They were going to be more than a few minutes. A hell of a lot more—as in never.
"Tell him you'll catch up later."
Allison turned back, frowning. She started to open her mouth, quickly closed it at the dark look he gave her. She took a deep breath, turned back toward the weasel. "Um, you should probably just go now, Kev. We'll catch up later."
The weasel hesitated then started forward again, his stride a little longer. "Catch up? How? What's going on?"
"Um—" Panic crossed Allison's face then just as quickly disappeared. "Colter's sick. We're, uh, we're just going to, um, make sure he's okay then we'll walk to the school."
"Sick?" The weasel stopped. "Sick, how?"
"I'm not sure. Maybe something he ate. He, uh, he has a weak stomach so..." Allison's voice trailed off with an apologetic shrug. The weasel's face paled and he actually took a step back, caught himself then took another step forward.
"If he's sick, maybe I should—"
"No, I wouldn't." Allison forced a small laugh and waved her hand under her nose. "It's, um, it's not pretty. Coming out both ends, if you know what I mean."
"Oh." The weasel stopped. Pale eyes slid to Ryder, met his gaze then quickly darted away. "I'll take everyone down to the school and get them started then come back for you—"
"We can walk."
"I said I'll come back."
Allison tossed a helpless glance at Ryder then turned back. "Sure, no problem. Just, um, just give us an hour. We should have everything, you know, um, cleaned up by then."
"An hour. Sure, no problem—"
Ryder pulled his sister inside and slammed the door before the weasel could finish talking. He leaned to the side and peered out the small louvered slats in the door, watching. Would the man change his mind and decide to come after them, or would he just turn around and leave?
A minute went by, then another. The weasel muttered something, ran one hand through his hair, then turned and walked away. Ryder watched as he made his way over to the van, climbed in and started it up. Two minutes later, the van was making its way out of camp, a small cloud of sandy dust trailing in its wake.
Ryder turned around, not surprised to see two sets of eyes staring at him. Their combined anger didn't surprise him, either, although Allison's, at least, was offset by curiosity.
"Nice work, sis. Not sure Ninja would appreciate it, though."
"What's going on? And where is Colter?"
"He's doing a little recon."
"Recon? What—"
"Later. Both of you, sit."
"Dammit, Ryder, we aren't dogs. Or men under your command. Or whatever you call them. You can't just order us around—"
"Sit." He paused, forced the next word from between clenched teeth. "Please."
Allison narrowed her eyes then finally sat on the edge of Colter's bed. Hannah hesitated but only for a second before she, too, took a seat. Both women stared up at him, impatience clear in their glares.
Ryder folded his arms in front of him, dug his fingers into his biceps and inhaled. Held it for a count of five and slowly exhaled. Again, only longer this time because if he didn't, there was a real good chance he'd fucking explode.
Hell, he might do that anyway.
"Are you going to tell us what's going on or—"
"How long have you two been down here?" Ryder forced the words from between his teeth. Allison and Hannah exchanged a quick glance then both of them shrugged. It was Allison who answered, even though he had directed the question at Hannah.
"Six months. I told you that the other day. Why?"
Six months. Six fucking months. And they didn't know, had no clue. Shit. How was that even possible? They weren't stupid. Far from it. Maybe a little naive but hell, Ryder thought everyone was naive. If people in general had even the tiniest clue of the shit that went on around them, they'd be afraid to get out of bed in the morning. How the hell could they not know?
Because they didn't have his resources, that was why.
The answer didn't do anything to settle the anger and rage that had been seething inside him since his call with Derrick "Chaos" Biggs. Chaos was Cover Six Security's master hacker—which was only one of a myriad of other shady talents the man possessed that Ryder could only guess at. Considering the man's background, those talents probably numbered in the high double-digits—and that was a conservative estimate. Chaos could discover anything, usually with dizzying speed.
"Ryder—"
"What do you know about your project manager?"
Hannah and Allison exchanged another long look, this one filled with confusion more than anything else. Hannah finally met his gaze with a shrug.
"Not much. He's from Australia. He's been working for VRA for a few years. He was placed in charge of this project nine months ago."
Ryder watched her as she spoke. Studied her facial expressions, the way she gestured with her hands. Even the quizzical look in her eyes as she held his gaze.
She didn't know. She really didn't know. And fuck, it was up to him to tell her.
To tell both of them.
"Why are you asking all these questions? What's going on? And what did you mean when you said Colter was doing recon? What does that even mean?" Allison barraged him with questions, each one a little more impatient than the last. Ryder answered with one of his own.
"Who did you work for before coming here?"
"It was a place called—"
"No. Wait." Hannah silenced his sister with a quick touch to her arm. Then she tilted her head to the side, her eyes narrowing as she studied him for a long minute. "How do you know we worked for someone else? What makes you think we
haven't been working for VRA all this time?"
Ryder met her gaze, held it for a long time. Knew exactly when she suspected what he was going to say, saw the realization in the way her pupils flared. It didn't make what he was about to say any easier.
And if she didn't hate him now, she would when he finished.
"It's a con. The organization. Your project manager. All of it is just one big con."
Silence descended on the room. Heavy. Oppressive. Thick with suspicion. With denial. Long minutes went by, each one stretching out before them, pulling tighter until finally reaching their breaking point.
It was Hannah who spoke first. She jumped to her feet, her head shaking so fast that her long ponytail flew from side-to-side. She pressed her hands against her waist and started pacing in small circles between the two beds.
"No. No, it can't be. This—" She stopped, waved her hand around to encompass the small bungalow and everything in it. "This isn't a con. The work we've been doing. Rebuilding the school—it's not a con. It can't be. Kevin's made sure—"
"His name isn't Kevin."
Hannah stopped her pacing, whirled to face him. "What? Yes, it is. He's—"
"His name is Samuel Bannister and he's from Phoenix. He's already served time for embezzlement and he's currently wanted for fraud."
"No. I don't believe it. His name is Kevin Wright."
Ryder took a step toward Hannah, stopped when she waved him off. "I'm sorry, Hannah, but it's not. The real Kevin Wright is from Australia. He was seventy-six when he died—two years ago."
"No. You're wrong. This isn't a con. The school, all the work we've been doing. The people who have come here to help." Hannah stopped, hugged herself tighter and blinked. Shook her head and blinked again. She inhaled, lifted her chin in sheer stubbornness and shook her head. "It's not a con. Look at what we've done! None of that would have happened if this was a con!"
The Defender: RYDER (Cover Six Security Book 3) Page 11