Incriminating Evidence

by Rachel Grant

  Forget that she’d never even heard of infrasound until a few days ago.

  She paused in her bleak thoughts. She’d been hit with infrasound three times—two of which happened when she’d been alone, and the third, in the river, Alec hadn’t been hit with the same intensity as she had.

  It would be so easy for a prosecutor to claim she’d been faking.

  But Alec had been hit. He’d put a name to it without her suggestion. Surely he believed her.

  Every person she’d ever cared about was gone. For ten minutes today, it had seemed possible this thing with Alec could be real. Now she didn’t know what to think.

  Westover sauntered down the hall. “You sure have gotten yourself in a mess.”

  She glared at the officer. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “Be original, Isabel. Everyone says that.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Leave me alone. I’m having a crappy day, and I’m not your prisoner.”

  “Actually, you are. I just received a call from Fairbanks. You missed your court appearance this morning. Your bail has not only been revoked, they want me to bring you to Fairbanks.”

  “I had a court appearance?” Shit. She hadn’t listened to the messages from the lawyer Alec hired. Had she really missed something that important? “But Alec dropped the charges.”

  “No. He paid your bail. He was supposed to withdraw his complaint during your appearance this morning. But neither of you showed. So your bail has been revoked, and they want you in the Fairbanks jail until your next court date.”

  “When is that?”

  “I don’t know. All I know is they want me to play chauffeur and take you to Fairbanks. As if I have time.” He held up a pair of handcuffs. “I need to cuff you for the drive.”

  “Seriously? Lieutenant, you made me hike five miles handcuffed. Don’t make me wear them for a two-hour drive.”

  “I can’t make exceptions.” He opened the barred door, and for the second time today, she was handcuffed.

  This was hardly the kinky fantasy Alec had offered her this morning. She wanted to say “Tiger” like it was a magic word that would get her out of this situation. “Let me call my lawyer.”

  “No time. The round trip is going to take me four hours. We need to get going.”

  “This is ridiculous, Lieutenant. I get a phone call.”

  “You were offered a call when Upton locked you up. You refused.”

  “That’s because Alec was here. I didn’t have anyone else to call.” Alec had said he’d call her attorney. Isabel had yet to talk to the woman he’d hired. “I need to call Alec. Agent Upton is going to be pissed you took me to Fairbanks.”

  “That’s Upton’s problem. The warrant for the missed court appearance supersedes his case. Stop arguing. We need to go.”

  He prodded her down the short hallway.

  “Where is Joyce?” she asked as she passed the woman’s empty desk.

  “Lunch break.” Westover grabbed Isabel’s backpack from the counter. “She didn’t have a chance to log in your stuff before she left. We’ll take it and let Fairbanks do the heavy lifting.”

  They entered the post garage, and Westover locked her in the backseat of the patrol car before depositing her pack in the trunk, then opening the bay door. She looked backward, through the rear window to the main road. It was empty. No sign of Alec or Upton.

  Something about this was wrong. It was all too rushed.

  Westover circled the car and slid behind the wheel. In minutes, they were on the road, heading west, toward the north highway that would take them to Fairbanks. The Raptor compound was to the east. No way Alec would catch a glimpse and know she wasn’t in the Tamarack jail.

  “Where were you and Ravissant this morning?”

  “None of your business,” she said, feeling uneasy.

  “Police business is my business.”

  “It’s an FBI investigation.”

  He grinned into the rearview mirror. “You were looking into Ravissant’s abduction, then.”

  She shrugged.

  “I heard someone shot out security cameras in the compound in the middle of the night.” He leered at her in the mirror in a way that made her skin crawl. “I wonder what the cameras would have seen.”

  Given that the cameras had been off before they were shot out, it was strange that Westover knew anything about it. She didn’t enjoy being locked in the back of the patrol car as Westover smirked at her.

  “Wonder what the voters in Maryland will think about that?”

  She bit back her reply. Aside from the fact that they were two consenting, single adults, they were Alec’s cameras, meaning there was no crime. No scandal. It was also none of the officer’s damn business.

  Without warning, he took a sharp left onto a logging road.

  Fear shot through her. “What are you doing?”

  “Change in plans.”

  Her mind raced. She knew this road. It was part of a network that branched from Tamarack. The logging roads had been the first roads in the area, then the town grew. Many of the roads connected and intersected, a haven of secret routes for poachers and antigovernment types who liked the anonymity of the Alaskan bush.

  She too had used these roads, to sneak onto the Raptor compound. Five minutes later, she was certain. Westover was taking her to the compound.

  He must’ve lied about the court date. Lied about taking her to Fairbanks. He’d sent Joyce to lunch so he could sneak her out of the post with no one the wiser.

  She was handcuffed and helpless and too late in remembering Westover had worked for Raptor under Robert Beck, and prior to that, he’d worked for the Defense Intelligence Agency—and rumors had circulated that he’d been involved with developing some “enhanced interrogation” techniques.

  He had to be the other man in the cave. The one who’d questioned Alec.

  Westover was Nicole’s partner. Agent Upton had, at Alec’s suggestion, delivered her into her brother’s murderer’s hands.

  Chapter Thirty

  As soon as Isabel was settled in the jail, Alec made a beeline for the Roadhouse.

  “I hardly think this is the time for a beer, Ravissant,” Upton said.

  Alec cut the agent a hard stare. “One of my employees quit this morning, and I need to question him. He might be involved.” He paused. “I remembered more of what happened last Thursday. I was interrogated in the cave.”

  “Interrogated? What did they want to know? Details of Ranger ops?”

  He frowned. “I don’t know. I can’t remember the questions.” He shook his head. “I’m a candidate, not a senator—it’s not like I have real power or access to information.”

  He shoved open the door to the Roadhouse and immediately spotted Brad Fraser at the bar, nursing a beer. Alec dropped into the seat next to him. “Why aren’t you at the compound?”

  Fraser tossed him a glare. “I don’t work for you anymore. I don’t have to answer to you.”

  Upton settled into the barstool on the other side of Fraser. “Then you can tell me,” he said.

  “I don’t answer to you either.”

  “You led the team that found Ravissant with Dawson. I have questions.”

  “I’ve answered your questions.” Fraser stood and dropped a twenty on the bar. “Jenna,” he said to the bartender, “I’m heading to your apartment.”

  “Stop being an ass, Brad, and answer their questions,” Jenna said.

  He frowned at her. “Babe, I quit for you.”

  “Yeah, well, I didn’t ask you to do that and I think quitting was a huge mistake. So you’d’ve had to cool your heels in Fairbanks for a few weeks. I’d have been fine here.”

  “Why did you quit?” Alec asked.

  “I couldn’t leave Jenna here unprotected. Tamarack is dangerous. Last night a twenty-three-year-old in prime health had a heart attack. Eleven months ago, Vincent Dawson, our best survival-training guide, died of exposure. I’ve always known Isabel’s argum
ent had merit, but no one listened to me.”

  “You never said—”

  “I did. It’s all in the statement I made during the initial investigation. If you didn’t read it, then you didn’t care enough to look. I’m done risking my neck for a CEO who doesn’t give a shit about the truth.”

  His words brought Alec up short. Was that how it had appeared? In letting lawyers and investigators look into Vincent’s death, did Alec come across as a coldhearted CEO?

  “I do care—”

  “You didn’t give a damn until something happened to you—or until you took one look at Isabel and decided you wanted to screw her. Either way, your reasons for finally paying attention were self-serving.”

  Alec bristled. Sure as hell, Brad wouldn’t be talking to him like this if he were still employed by Raptor. While Alec didn’t like what Brad was saying, he had to admit he preferred the honest operative to the obsequious soldier.

  “And the way your campaign screwed her in the paper is sickening,” Brad added.

  “That wasn’t me. I’ve already fired my campaign manager.”

  “Too late,” Brad said. “Listen, there’s something rotten going on in the compound. I can’t trust the very people I need to have my back. I’ve been sitting on an offer from Apex for months. Now I’m taking it. I’m just here to convince Jenna to move with me to Oregon.”

  Jenna let out a heavy sigh. “You know I can’t move, Brad. My dad needs me here.”

  “Your dad can come with us.” He took a long drink of his beer, then faced Alec. “If you give a damn about Isabel at all, if you aren’t just using her for information or a convenient screw, or a scapegoat for your campaign, you’ll get her the hell out of Tamarack. Now. Today. She’s hell-bent on justice, screw self-preservation. Someone needs to look out for her. The way I see it, justice isn’t going to happen. Not when whoever is doing this has infrasound. Not when they can cause heart attacks in healthy operatives with the flip of a switch.”

  “Ms. Dawson is leaving Tamarack today,” the FBI agent said. “With me. Forensics found evidence that ties her to Ravissant’s abduction.”

  “That’s bullshit!” Brad said.

  “If you have information regarding the investigation, Mr. Fraser, I recommend you stop wasting my time with your gripes and start talking. I’d rather have the right person in custody, than a person in custody.”

  Brad’s gaze darted from Alec’s to Agent Upton’s, then back to Jenna’s. Jenna nodded in sync with Alec. “Tell him what you suspect, Brad. Tell them both everything.”

  The operative took a deep breath. “After Chase Johnston collapsed last night, I called Simon Barstow to accept the job with Apex. I asked about Ted Godfrey—I wanted to know if we’d be working on the same team. He had no clue what I was talking about. Godfrey’s not down in Oregon.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me this last night?” Alec asked.

  “I wanted to be certain before I said anything. So I made some follow-up calls, but my contacts didn’t get back to me until this morning—and you were nowhere to be found. I was about to tell Hatcher what I’d learned, but then I received the Fairbanks ultimatum. Which brings us here.”

  From Upton’s demeanor, it was clear Brad had his full attention. “Who’s Godfrey?” the FBI agent asked.

  “He’s an operative who, according to Nicole Markwell, accepted a position with Apex and quit on Thursday,” Alec said.

  “But Godfrey isn’t with Apex,” Upton clarified.

  “No. He’s missing,” Fraser said.

  It was time to tell Upton everything. “He’s not missing. I know exactly where he is.”

  “Good. Because he’s crooked as shit, and we need to keep an eye on him,” Brad said.

  “You suspected Godfrey?” Alec asked.

  “There’s been something off about Johnston ever since Godfrey took him under his wing. Chase was a good kid. Then he started staring at Isabel. Just being strange. I told him to knock it off, and he denied it. But the strange part was, he really didn’t seem to know he was doing it. I kept telling Isabel it was just a crush, but now…I don’t think so. I think Godfrey was fucking with his brain, using infrasound or some other shit that had been in development under Robert Beck.

  “Back when Beck owned the place, Godfrey and Westover were tight and teamed up to run lots of the smaller trainings. Knowing Chase’s brain may have been fucked with reminded me that Westover once worked for Defense Intelligence. He used to hint at the shit he’d done for DIA. I figured he was full of crap, but now I have to wonder if he really was versed in enhanced interrogation, and if he and Godfrey were working together, screwing with Chase’s head.”

  At the first mention of Westover, Alec felt all the blood in his brain flow straight to his gut.

  Isabel.

  Alec stood without a word and turned for the door. Upton grabbed his arm, stopping him. “We need more information first.”

  “She’s in danger.”

  “He’d be a fool to try something now. He’d reveal himself.”

  “What’s going on?” Brad asked.

  “Isabel is in the Tamarack lockup while we look into my suspicions of Nicole.”

  “Nic too?” Jenna said.

  Alec nodded. He forced himself to stay and ask the questions, knowing Upton wouldn’t release Isabel based on vague speculation alone. “You ever see anything suspicious between Nic and Godfrey?”

  Brad shrugged. “He always got the odd assignments—the small trainings, one instructor, of two or three soldier/trainees. Short and intense. Much like Vin Dawson’s last training. Those are the fun ones—out in the woods with a small team.” He shrugged. “I figured she was playing favorites and it pissed me off. Truth is, I don’t like Godfrey because he’s reckless, and I swear he likes playing the hostage taker in the scenarios a little too much. We always play it real, per your rules, Rav, but he brought a special level of sicko to the job.”

  He frowned. “A month ago, we did a dry run in the new shoot house, to block out a new scenario. Chase played hostage and was tied to a chair. I caught Godfrey holding his gun inches from Chase’s forehead and dry firing.”

  “That’s a firable offense,” Alec said. “Why the fuck are you just telling me this now?”

  “I reported it to Nicole. Godfrey was put on a two-week suspension, and she said you’d approved the suspension over the firing because we’re short on operatives.”

  “Nic lied. I’d have fired Godfrey on the spot, I don’t give a crap how short-staffed we are.” How badly had Alec fucked up in leaving Nicole in charge at the compound?

  “Anything else?” Agent Upton asked Brad.

  Brad paused for a moment, then said, “Search the wine cellar. Nic goes in there a lot, but she’s not really a wine drinker, and it would be just like Beck to have a secret room tucked behind his precious wine cellar.”

  Alec turned to Upton. His body was tight with the need to go after Isabel. “Is that enough?”

  Upton gave a sharp nod.

  “Go to the compound and detain Nicole for questioning,” Alec said. “I’ll get Isabel.”

  “Westover won’t release her to you. We’ll get Isabel, then leave her here with Fraser.” Upton nodded to the former operative. “Do you trust him to protect her?”

  Alec met Brad’s gaze, then nodded to Upton.

  “Good. Then we’ll find Nicole Markwell.”

  “Where’s Godfrey?” Brad asked. “Question him. He’ll crack long before Nic does.”

  Alec was about to say Godfrey wouldn’t be answering questions anytime soon, when the front door to the Roadhouse opened, admitting a strong gust of wind and the woman who worked for Westover at the Tamarack Post. She had a pinched, anxious look on her face as she met Alec’s gaze. “Oh, thank goodness you’re still here! He’s taken her. She’s gone.”

  Fear unlike anything Alec had ever experienced gripped him by the balls.

  “What happened?” Upton asked.

  “T
hat ass Westover sent me to lunch—insisted I go, which was unusual for him—but I needed to let the dogs out and was relieved we were going to skip our daily argument, so I went. While I was gone, he took Isabel. She’s not in the jail.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Alec’s wasn’t quite sure he was breathing, yet he must be, because he managed to speak. “Where did he take her?”

  “I have no idea! His patrol car is gone. I radioed him, but he didn’t respond.”

  “Can you track his vehicle with GPS?”

  She frowned. “The tracking device was damaged a few weeks ago. It hasn’t been fixed.”

  Alec’s heart pounded. This was all his fault. He’d suggested they leave Isabel in the jail. He stupidly hadn’t suspected Westover. But why did the man expose himself now by going all in? What was his goal? And how did he expect to escape with his life?

  Because sure as hell, if the officer hurt Isabel, Alec was going to break his neck—as easily as he’d killed Godfrey.

  Isabel jolted awake, unsure what had pulled her from sleep. Then she heard it again. The song. Someone was calling her. Not just someone. Alec. That was his ringtone.

  Wait. What was her cell phone doing here?

  And where, exactly, was here?

  She sat up—or rather tried to—and discovered she couldn’t move. She was strapped to a bed in a cold, dark room. The only sound was the ringing of the cell phone. The repeated phrases of Carly Rae Jepsen’s “Call Me Maybe.” The light pop song had been her secret admission she was interested in him when she’d downloaded it, but in this stark, desolate room, it offered only discord and turmoil.

  Slowly, the last hours came back to her. The Sun article. Finding the cave and Godfrey’s remains. Upton’s accusations. She’d been locked up. Again. And Westover had cuffed her and they’d driven off. Then…nothing.

  She probed the blank spaces in her memory. She’d never really liked Paul Westover, but that didn’t mean anything. After all, she’d liked Nicole.

  The officer must be involved. He hadn’t worked on the compound when Vin was there, but that didn’t mean he didn’t work with Godfrey and Nicole and infrasound.