Fatal Intent

by Ryshia Kennie

  “Yes. I’m a skilled marksman.”

  The answer surprised Aidan and for a moment he forgot his next question.

  Ian glared at him. “What are you suggesting? I shoot targets. Inanimate objects. I couldn’t shoot anything living, not even a rabbit.” The tears fell now and his mouth quivered as he tried to rein them in. “Besides, I’m unarmed. Not that it matters. I would never hurt him or anyone.”

  “Take a deep breath,” Aidan encouraged him. “So the last you saw of Malcolm he was heading—what direction?”

  “East.”

  “Upriver?”

  Ian nodded.

  “Inland?”

  Again Ian nodded.

  “And what did you do after that? Did you hear a shot?”

  “No. I came back and we spent the day close to camp. That’s where we found the dead specimen. And then we waited for Malcolm.” His chin quivered. “He never showed up. And that’s when we started moving out.”

  “Thanks, Ian,” Aidan said quietly. He turned away. Hysterics were not something he was prepared to deal with. They bordered on conflict, they bordered on everything he had always disliked. Yet here he was in a career that required just that. The irony didn’t escape him.

  “Wait.”

  He turned. Ian’s chin had stopped quivering and his eyes had taken on a new intensity. “Be gentle with her. Garrett, I mean. She’s not as tough as she likes to make out.”

  “I realize that,” he replied, irritated that Ian had felt he needed to remind him. Her vulnerability was evident, at least to him.

  “I don’t think you do.” Ian’s chin jutted at a stubborn angle. “She’s my best friend and she’s had a rough road to this point. She was anorexic, you know. Took her a year longer to graduate because she had to drop out to get treatment.”

  “Anorexic,” Aidan repeated. There was nothing anorexic about her now. She was all delicate limbs and soft curves. Just right.

  “Not anymore. She’s over it all but this is difficult for her.” He waved his arm, encompassing the area. “And you. Not being in charge.” He sighed. “She’s better but she still struggles with control issues.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because you’re falling for her. What do you think, I’m blind?”

  For once, Aidan was more at a loss with Ian than when he was in full hysteria.

  “We’ve always been the odd pair, me with my emotions, her with her control issues. But I blame that, the control thing, on her father. He was always standing in her way or refusing to acknowledge her, take your pick. She hides her feelings most of the time and that’s half the problem.” He scuffed the ground. “Look, I feel bad telling you all this but I expect you’ll watch out for her. I can’t always be there.”

  “You’re assuming a lot.”

  “Am I?” Ian asked.

  “I’ll take it under advisement,” he said gravely as he turned away. But what Ian had told him only confirmed what he already knew. Garrett and he were more alike than either one of them wanted to admit.

  * * *

  “The missing head is what gets me,” Mark was saying to Aidan later that day. “No one would have murdered someone and then taken their head. There was no point, especially as the body was so easily identifiable. So I asked pretty much everyone in the tribe.” He shrugged. “Nothing.”

  “What about the boy?” Garrett asked as she came upon the two of them.

  “What boy?” Mark asked as Aidan scowled.

  “The one who met us when we arrived that first day at the longhouse. He seemed to be everywhere and know what was going on. Maybe . . .” Garrett hesitated when she saw the expression on Aidan’s face, harsh and impenetrable.

  “No,” he snapped.

  “Why?” Garrett couldn’t stop, even though it was obvious that the thought was upsetting to Aidan.

  Aidan turned and walked away.

  “What’d I say?”

  Mark faced Garrett and said bluntly, “Aidan had a sister.”

  “Had?”

  “She drowned when she was ten. She was much like the boy you met on your arrival at the longhouse, the eyes and ears of the village. There were developers snooping around. She followed them and no one’s sure what happened, but she was found later that evening. Drowned. She was seven years younger than Aidan. He was leaving for college. I think he still blames himself. In a way he was in worse shape than Akan.”

  “Akan’s child?” Garrett breathed.

  “Yeah. Sunshine’s mother buggered off shortly after she was born so Aidan was often as much parent as brother. They were close. When she died, it was a tough time for Aidan. Without Akan, I don’t know if he would have made it.”

  “That’s horrible, but what does it have to do with this boy?”

  “Everything. Aidan’s not going to want to get him involved. He has an overwhelming need to protect.”

  “But a few questions, surely that won’t harm.”

  “Aidan will go back later. Get some answers from Blue and the others. He has to. That’s what he does.” Mark leaned against a tree trunk. “He’s one of the best investigators in the country.”

  “He hasn’t talked much about that,” Garrett admitted.

  “He wouldn’t. That’s the way he is. But if anyone can find out what happened to your guide, it’s Aidan.”

  “This is a murder.” Garrett paced a few steps away from him.

  Mark nodded. “He’s handled that before. He’s armed.”

  She swallowed. The spear was tolerable, but a gun? She thought of Ian’s hobby. Handguns at a firing range was one thing, but carrying a gun and knowing you might one day use it, whether in self-defense or not . . . it was unthinkable.

  “Colt .45—sweet little piece. I told him to get something newer. He’s only fired it once. Most of the time he can get himself out of a situation with his martial arts.”

  “What kind of situation?”

  “Man, has he got the stories. Look.” Mark slapped her lightly on the shoulder. “Another time.”

  “Right. Of course.” Garrett was reeling and not from the gentle buddy-like slap Mark had inflicted. This was more than she anticipated. She knew Aidan was an investigator but she hadn’t thought what that might mean. Aidan, the pacifist, the one concerned for the animals, the one who rarely uttered a curse—carried a gun. And would solve the death of Malcolm single-handedly or with the use of martial arts. She shivered. It wasn’t possible. She had fallen for a man she knew absolutely nothing about.

  * * *

  “Would you miss this?” she asked that night after they had set up camp. They’d made slow progress today as they’d battled a jungle thick with vines and oversize leaves. She nuzzled comfortably against his naked chest. At a safe distance, the snores of the others rattled through the small clearing.

  “What do you mean?” Aidan looked down on her. “Are you looking for something permanent?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I have my career.”

  “Of course. Your career. And that precludes everything, doesn’t it?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “So when you’re not here, where are you?”

  “New York. At a desk job.” She sighed. “This is where I want to be, with the insects.” She waved her hand. “The jungle is home to them. Like it is to you.”

  “I have a loft in Kuching,” he said to her and his green eyes held amusement and something else.

  She swallowed heavily. “Kuching?”

  “Half of the year. Of course, I spent time in the States too.”

  A soft rustle, followed by the creak of wood against wood and something else. Something Garrett couldn’t identify.

  “Stay here.” His hand settled briefly on her shoulder and then drifted across her cheek in a feather touch that seared her skin.

  “I’ll come with you.”

  “No,” he said flatly. “Stay.”

  “As if,” she muttered and got up.

  From the ri
ght, brush rustled and plants parted. The great dun body of a monitor lumbered as it came through the tall grass. Its head swung back and forth before it plodded toward the river.

  Aidan held up his hand. Garrett nodded, instinctively freezing as she watched a lizard nearly as big as herself meander slowly across the edge of the clearing. It was a full five minutes before the creature was out of sight as it made its way methodically to the water.

  “Those things would kill you with a bite,” Aidan explained.

  “But they don’t normally attack?”

  “Not humans, not unless they’re threatened. That’s why it’s a good idea to remain still and unthreatening. Works with many things. Of course, not all.” He glanced upward into the trees.

  “Pythons.” She frowned.

  “Them and a few other snakes. Next to the insects, they’re the deadliest things in the forest.”

  “Lovely place.” There was a smile in her voice.

  “Great place for bugs,” he bantered.

  “Yeah, you got me there. I’d love it for that, if I could get over the hazards. I really don’t know how you do it. As for me, except for research I’m definitely not rushing back here for a vacation.”

  He laughed.

  But something in that laugh was a little off. There was a sadness that laced through the humor, a loneliness that made Garrett doubt both their motives.

  That night the rain fell again.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  The next day the weather cleared but the humidity seemed to bathe everything in a too-warm sweat. Aidan had spent the last five minutes assessing the team, preparing for blowups. But everyone seemed resigned. He turned his attention to Garrett. That was a mistake. Her hips swayed, just slightly, but it was a siren call to him.

  “I can’t stand this. It’s hotter than hell.” Ian’s tone was petulant.

  “Ian.” Garrett was uncompromising. “Can it.”

  “C’mon, mate. It’s an adventure,” Sid said and slowed his pace.

  Aidan glanced back as Sid sidled up to Ian. The two had become an odd pair of mismatched friends. There were more weird and wonderful things in the Borneo rain forest than just the bugs. Aidan smiled and marked the trail.

  He glanced overhead, and through a brief break in the canopy he could see the sun had shifted to a late afternoon position. Then the canopy closed in again and they were in the verdant green dusk that had existed long before man ever ventured here.

  He slipped ahead of the group, but he was alone for only a few short minutes before he heard footsteps behind him. He didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.

  “Aidan,” her voice whispered to him, obviously muting her voice, distancing herself from the others.

  He could hear her unease.

  He slipped silently through the foliage to where she was.

  He needed her. Needed her to go back to the others. “Go back.”

  “Why?”

  His gaze caught on the impression of a nipple against thin cotton.

  She bent down, running a finger along the ground. He wished she would go back, and at the same time he fought the urge to gather her in his arms.

  “I’ve never seen frass quite like this.” She looked up and smiled. “In layman’s terms, insect poop.”

  He smiled softly at the incongruity of their thoughts—his on passion and hers on insect poop. And despite recognizing that their thoughts were at opposite ends of the spectrum, he couldn’t stop his, couldn’t quite focus on a bug.

  “Something makes its home here.”

  “Many creatures,” he agreed, but it was a gruff agreement that hid the pleasure he felt at this shared affinity they had for the creatures of the forest. She was everything he wanted in a woman and yet she didn’t belong here.

  “Insects, I meant. It’s an unbelievably diverse ecosystem.” She trailed her finger through the mulch.

  And all he could look at was the view that he’d acquired while she squatted below him. Her nipples were small, and sweetly pink, and . . . He closed his eyes. That didn’t help. He squatted down beside her.

  “Look at that. You can see where the ants have made a path. See there?” She pointed and her breast brushed his arm.

  He could only take so much. She was in his arms. He was kissing her or she was kissing him. Her shirt was open and neither one of them remembered how. He only knew that he was caressing heaven.

  She nuzzled his neck and blew hot kisses on his already overheated skin.

  He pulled away. “Don’t, Rett. Please.”

  He fondled her breast, playfully pulling a nipple before drawing her shirt together.

  “I want you,” she said and her eyes pulled him in.

  “No. Button your shirt.” His tone softened. “I’d say you’ve got just under a minute.”

  She was just finished when Drew crashed through the foliage, followed by the others.

  “When are we making camp?” Ian asked. “I’m exhausted.”

  “I’m going to track ahead and find a place for the night,” Aidan said, returning his overheated senses to comfortable ground.

  An hour later they reached a spot where the forest had become thinner. The sun had shifted and darkness was only a few hours away. “We’ll camp here.”

  “Great,” Drew muttered, scratching under his arm. “What about insects?”

  “Hopefully attract them,” Sid joked and punched him in the arm. “C’mon, let’s get to work.”

  Within an hour, camp had been made. Supper was stew from dehydrated packs, as it had been every night.

  “I don’t know about the rest of you,” Sid said as he got up and dusted the seat of his pants, “but I’m turning in.”

  “Me too.” Ian stood.

  Within thirty minutes her team had all found spots near the fire to get some sleep before the morning hours.

  Garrett sat cross-legged by the fire, too keyed up to sleep. She thought of the find and ached to go back. A species of coleoptera that farmed was unprecedented. And only one fear marred the discovery—that when they returned, it would be gone as if it had never existed. Across the fire she could see Aidan. His back was to everyone. She wondered what he was thinking.

  Garrett pushed the flames with a stick and embers fired into the air. She shifted and glanced at where Aidan had been—he’d disappeared.

  She remained where she was, her arms wrapped around her knees, until from around the campfire the snorts and rumbles and deep breathing indicated that they were all asleep.

  She got up and made her way to the edge of the clearing. Beyond, the forest was dark and forbidding. The green curtain had become a black backdrop to the night sky, a rich mystery. She stepped into the black void, two tentative steps, glanced behind her and could still see the fire, yet around her the foliage was close, hot and confining.

  “Aidan,” she whispered, trying to keep the panic from her voice.

  “Over here.”

  She looked to where his voice had been and something moved.

  “It’s me.” He was behind her, and before she could turn his arms were around her. He turned her to face him.

  In his arms she forgot all the frustration and fear she had felt. Only the overwhelming heart pounding, the liquid fire of their attraction remained. His lips roamed over hers, his tongue slid along the roof of her mouth. She moaned as she envisioned other places she wanted that tongue to be.

  “C’mon.” He took her hand.

  “Do you know where you’re going?” The darkness was overwhelming, unsettling, and she could only see glimpses of the campfire.

  “I know exactly where we are.” He chuckled. “About thirty feet to the right of camp, give or take.”

  “Give or take.” She licked her lips. She trusted his abilities, yet it was so dark, so foreign, so deliciously titillating because of that.

  His lips met hers again, rich and warm, and all she could do was wrap her arms around his neck and demand more. They fell in a heated tangle of
limbs into the thick grass, in a clearing bracketed by impressions of foliage shadowed against the night sky. They rolled once and then passion clouded everything and she couldn’t tell who had done what to whom, only that her body sang like she never remembered before.

  Later, as they lay together, the velvet darkness rich and unbroken, the warm humid air sifting around them like a blanket, she sighed. She loved it here.

  “What was that about?” He shifted and put an arm around her shoulders.

  She leaned into him. “It’s beautiful, insects or not.”

  “Really,” he drawled.

  “Of course I don’t love being lost, traumatized.” She turned to look at him. “You’ve always loved it here. Haven’t you?”

  “True. But I’m not like most people.”

  “You’re not kidding, Aidan. So, do you have a last name?”

  “I don’t know,” he replied.

  “What do you mean you don’t know?”

  “Mother was a hippie, a counterculture type, and I just never had one. It’s not on my birth certificate.” He shrugged. “A clerical error, no doubt. My given name appears twice.”

  “You didn’t ask to have it changed?”

  “No.”

  “And you won’t now,” she guessed.

  “Precisely. At this stage in my life it’s all irrelevant.”

  “Mr. Irrelevant,” she murmured. And now, with everything they’d gone through and all she was beginning to feel for him, he was hardly that. Later, lying on his chest, she could feel his heart thump, a strong, steady beat that was comforting and oddly erotic. Overhead, the sky was a rich black tapestry and the stars were an upside-down configuration of the ones she was used to viewing at home. She reached behind and drew her hand down his jawline, feeling the stubble that pebbled his jaw and brushed a pleasurable edge along her palm.

  “Who are you, really?”

  “Whoever you want me to be.” There was laughter in his voice.

  She flipped over, landing on her side beside him. The grass tickled against her naked skin.