by Paige Tyler
Tanner nodded. “You should. The DCO could help you get a flight home. In fact, you could probably leave straight from here.”
Zarina fought the urge to roll her eyes. She didn’t know who he thought he was fooling. He was suggesting she visit her parents because he wanted to get rid of her. She’d be lying if she said it didn’t hurt a little, but she knew he wasn’t trying to be mean. Knowing him, he thought he was keeping her safe.
Well, she wasn’t going to let him push her away, and she definitely wasn’t leaving him out here by himself, even if that was what he wanted. If that meant living through the winter with him in this prepper camp, badgering him about taking her hybrid antiserum, she was prepared to do it. She’d freeze to death, but she’d do it.
“I’m sure you’re right,” she said with a smile. “But because it’s been so long since I’ve seen Mom and Dad, I’m sure another couple of months won’t matter. I think I’ll just stay here with you for now.”
Tanner’s jaw clenched, but other than that, he gave little sign her words had bothered him. Instead, he walked over and started lining up more logs to split, as if he planned to spend the entire day doing it. Knowing him, he probably did.
“What about your family?” she asked when the silence began to stretch out to the point of discomfort. “Cam said your mother hasn’t changed your room since you joined the army, which means they must still live in Seattle, right?”
“Olympic Hills, actually.” Tanner turned his attention from the logs he still needed to split to stacking the wood he already had, aligning the pieces almost like a jigsaw puzzle so the wall of firewood was straight and stable. “It’s the northernmost part of Seattle.”
From the conversation with Cam yesterday, it was obvious Tanner hadn’t been in contact with his family since he’d left three years ago. And he’d burned all his bridges behind him when he walked out. Something told her whatever had driven him away from them was still playing a major role in his life now.
“When we were at the diner with Cam, you mentioned something happened with your dad. I’m guessing that would have been right around the time you got out of the army,” she said, suddenly desperate to keep him talking. “Did he have a problem with you getting out? Is that why you left and came to live out here?”
Zarina held her breath, waiting for Tanner to turn and walk away because she’d trespassed into forbidden territory. But he simply shook his head, his expression introspective. “No. Dad was fine with me getting out. And Mom was frigging thrilled.”
“But?” she prompted when he didn’t say more.
He shrugged, almost looking at a loss as to what he wanted to say. That was hard for her to see. Regardless of the whole hybrid thing, Tanner was a smart, confident man. Seeing him unsure of himself was something new for her.
“But things didn’t work out the way anyone planned, and I realized being around my family was a really bad idea,” he finally said. “That’s why I left.”
Zarina cursed silently. Tanner was like a broken record, using the same excuse to turn his back on his family as he did with her and his friends at the DCO, that he was going to make a mistake and hurt them. But this stuff with his family had been long before he’d been turned into a hybrid. So what had him running so scared back then?
She wasn’t sure how to even get into it with him, until something Tanner had said to Ryan popped into her head. Something that scared the crap out of her far more than his hybrid-induced rages.
“When did all this start?” she asked softly. “This need to get away from people?” When he didn’t answer, she followed her instincts and the horrible suspicion that had started creeping into her mind. “Did it have to do with why you got out of the army and why you’re on VA disability?”
Tanner stood there, staring at nothing, his blue eyes looking so lost and confused, it nearly tore her heart out to see it.
She knew she should probably back off and wait until he was ready to talk, but she couldn’t do that. She couldn’t stand there and act like she didn’t see the pain etched clearly on his face.
She wanted more than anything to yank him into her arms and squeeze him until everything was better. But she knew that wasn’t how it worked.
So instead, she lifted her fingers to his strong jaw and gently turned his face to hers. “Tanner, why won’t you talk to me about this? I want so much to be able to help you, but I can’t do that if you won’t even talk to me.”
“This isn’t something I can talk about.” He gazed down at her with eyes filled with so much sorrow that it took her breath away. “Sometimes, there just aren’t words to explain what’s happening.”
Zarina felt the tears she’d been holding back slide down her cheeks, and she opened her mouth, ready to beg if she had to. Anything, as long as he would let her help him. He stopped her with a single tormented glance.
“I can’t talk about this stuff, but maybe I can show you,” he said, his voice so low, she had to strain to hear it. “Maybe then you’ll understand.”
Turning, he walked over to the stack of firewood and grabbed his T-shirt from where he’d left it earlier, pulling it on as he walked away. Zarina grabbed her pack and joined him, ready to follow him anywhere. She thought for a moment that they were heading back to their cabin, that maybe he was going to show her a picture or memento to explain all this. But instead, he headed into the forest.
“Where are we going?” she asked, hurrying to catch up with him. “I thought you said we needed to stay close to camp.”
He shrugged his broad shoulders, his long strides covering more ground than she could ever hope to. “We won’t be gone very long. The camp will be safe enough until we get back.”
“Back from where?” she said, running to keep up. “Tanner, where are we going?”
“To the place where I died.”
Chapter 7
“I still can’t believe he’s gone,” Abby Warner said over her shoulder to Tate as she unlocked the door of Bell’s office and pushed it open. “He was absolutely the nicest person I’ve ever worked with. I swear I’m not just saying that. I don’t think I ever heard the man complain, not even once. And he was beyond brilliant. One of our very best doctors and an even better genetic researcher.”
Tate exchanged looks with Chase as he followed the chief administrator into the office. He and the deputy had talked to several other doctors and nurses at the Scarborough Medical Center before checking in with Abby Warner, and the story had been consistent so far. McKinley Bell had been hardworking and friendly, passionate about his patients and his research, and more than willing to pull extra shifts if they needed him to. Even though he’d won a lot of awards and recognition for the work he’d done in the field of genetics, they couldn’t find anyone who’d admit having a beef with him. Tate wasn’t surprised. He didn’t think anyone there had anything to do with Bell’s death. Not unless they were using the large hospital as a cover for hybrid research, of course, which wasn’t very likely.
Still, there was always a chance he might stumble over someone who knew what Bell might have been involved in and point him in the right direction.
“Ma’am, can you think of anyone who might have wanted Dr. Bell dead?” Chase asked.
The woman frowned. “That’s an odd question. Wasn’t McKinley killed by a wild animal?”
Tate let the deputy dig himself out of the hole he’d just dug. Abby Warner had already expressed a goodly amount of suspicion, wondering why there was a deputy from a neighboring county and an agent from Homeland investigating an animal attack. Asking if the man had any enemies had definitely put her antennas up.
While Chase smoothed over the woman’s concerns by explaining that since he was assisting in a federal case, he was forced to follow the standard checklists, Tate wandered around Bell’s office. It wasn’t a big space, but it was neat and orderly and as spotlessly clean as an op
erating room. There were framed pictures mounted on the walls, everything from landscapes and wilderness photos to smiling people dressed up in fancy clothes. Oddly enough, there weren’t any framed degrees on the wall. Every doctor he’d ever encountered proudly displayed them.
Tate looked around again, thinking he must have missed them. Nope, there wasn’t a single degree in the entire place. Bell’s decision to leave his sheepskins in the closet made Tate’s mouth edge up. That said something about the guy. Something good.
He wandered over to the big oak desk by the window. While most people would have positioned their desk to face the door, Bell had turned his around so he could look out over the carefully landscaped lawn. The foliage on the trees was an explosion of orange and yellow with a bit of green thrown in here and there from the firs. Tate had never thought of himself as a nature lover, but even he had to admit this scene was breathtaking.
Yet another thing to like about the man.
Tate forced his gaze away from the brilliant display of colors outside the window and studied the desk. It was just as neat and orderly as the rest of the space, the handwriting on the desk calendar so legible, it almost looked like it had been printed. In addition to the computer, there was also one of those fancy pen sets mounted on a polished hardwood base. Kendra had already remotely accessed the computer, copied everything last night, and found absolutely nothing of interest, so there was no point in wasting time doing it again. Bell didn’t even have any suspicious-looking emails worth reading. From the looks of it, the man hadn’t used his work computer for anything personal.
Tate started to open one of the desk drawers but stopped as the engraving on one of Bell’s fancy pens caught his eye. Tate picked it up, turning it toward the window and the late afternoon light.
The engraving read Hearts Lost but then Found.
Tate was a guy, and even he recognized romantic crap when he saw it. Obviously, Dr. Bell had a girlfriend out there. The fact that the pen set was positioned strategically front and center on the desk so the man could see the inscription every time he looked up told Tate this secret someone must have been a pretty big deal to him.
“Was Dr. Bell in a relationship with anyone that you know of?” he asked Abby, putting the pen back in its holder.
The fact that nothing about a relationship had shown up in the DCO’s background scrub had Tate curious. The only way that happened was if Bell had gone out of his way to hide it.
Abby looked at Tate. “I don’t think so. If he was, he never mentioned it to me. You could talk to his clinical research assistant, Joanne Harvey. They worked together for years and were good friends. If anyone would know if he was seeing anyone, it’d be her.”
Tate glanced at Chase, but he shook his head. Apparently, the deputy didn’t know anything about Joanne Harvey either. “I wasn’t aware that the doctor had an assistant.”
Abby waved her hand. “That’s because, technically, she wasn’t McKinley’s assistant. On all the HR paperwork, she’s a general researcher, but that’s just a formality. She’s worked exclusively for him for the past five years.”
Another quick look in Chase’s direction told him the deputy was thinking the same thing he was. If anyone knew what the doctor had gotten himself into, it would probably be Joanne Harvey. Hell, she might even be the finder of lost hearts mentioned in the engraving.
“Is Ms. Harvey here now?” Chase asked Abby. “We’d like to talk to her.”
The woman shook her head sadly. “Joanne didn’t come in today. In fact, she’s been out since we learned of McKinley’s death.”
Huh. Okay, the chances of Joanne Harvey being in a relationship with Bell just increased. “We’ll need to get her home address from you,” Tate said.
Abby nodded. “Of course. Follow me.”
Tate was halfway to the door when the photo in one of the frames caught his attention, bringing him to a standstill so fast, Chase almost ran him over. He ignored the deputy and moved closer to the photo. Damn. He wasn’t seeing things. It was Mahsood in the picture with Bell. The two men were standing with several other people, and all of them except Mahsood were proudly holding some kind of award plaque.
“Excuse me, Ms. Warner,” he said, keenly aware that Chase had taken an interest in what had caught his attention. “Do you know when this picture was taken?”
The woman slipped her reading glasses on and leaned closer. “Ah, yes. That was the award banquet last December in Portland. McKinley and his team had just won the Allan Lasker Genetic Research Award. It was the highlight of the entire evening.”
Tate pointed at Mahsood. “Was this man part of the team?”
“Dr. Mahsood? Technically, he wasn’t, and his name didn’t officially appear on the award, but he’d mentored all the doctors on the team at one time or another over the years, so they insisted he join them for the photo.” Abby’s lips curved. “He’s very respected in this part of the country for his innovative work in the field of genetic engineering. As I remember it, he’d been out of the country for some time just prior to the banquet, and McKinley was thrilled he’d made it back in time.”
Tate stifled a snort. Mahsood had been out of the country prior to that because he’d been in Costa Rica creating a group of insane hybrids. Tate couldn’t believe Mahsood had been ballsy enough to go straight from that bloodbath to a formal award ceremony, like everything that had gone on down there had been nothing more than a day at the office. Heck, maybe for Mahsood, creating monsters was just another day at the office.
Regardless, it was now a certainty that Mahsood and Bell knew each other, and the chances were getting better and better that the link was the thing that had gotten the man tortured and killed.
Tate was still considering the ramifications of that as Abby led them out of the office and toward the administrative section. Even if he went with the assumption that Bell and Mahsood had been working together on a new hybrid program, that didn’t explain how Bell ended up in a cabin in the middle of nowhere sliced and diced. The theory that they were creating a new hybrid out for revenge didn’t feel right. And he seriously doubted Mahsood had killed Bell.
He was still wondering where that left him when they walked past a brass plaque mounted on the wall with the name Brannon Memorial Wing emblazoned on it. Tate stopped to take a closer look, noticing Chase must have been catching onto how he worked, because the deputy swerved before he mowed him over.
“Ms. Warner, is this Brannon as in Rebecca Brannon?” Tate asked.
He seriously doubted it could be anyone else. How many Brannons could there be in this part of the world?
Abby beamed. “Yes. Do you know her? She’s an amazing woman, isn’t she? This whole wing of the facility was built with funding from her charitable organization.”
“Really?” Tate said. “A whole wing?”
He’d be a lot more impressed if he didn’t know the woman so well.
Abby nodded, her head bobbing like one of those toys. “She’s very generous, but that’s to be expected. The Brannons have lived in the area for generations and have always been very supportive of the local community. They’ve funded the construction of hospitals, libraries, children’s centers, as well as domestic violence and homeless shelters for decades. Everyone adores them.”
Tate wondered if people would revere the Brannons as much if they knew how many people had died at the hands of Rebecca’s hybrid research projects or that she’d abandoned her own daughter in a mental institute for most of her life, almost certainly because she didn’t want the girl getting in the way of her political career.
He reached into his jacket pocket and took out his notebook, then flipped through it until he found the picture of Ashley he’d taped in it that morning before leaving his hotel room. It was a crappy photo, taken from a cheap convenience store camera a few hours after the shifter had escaped the mental institution. It was
a grainy, black-and-white image, but it was the best shot they had of her.
“Have you seen this woman around by any chance, possibly with Dr. Bell?” he asked Abby.
This was Rebecca Brannon’s hometown. Maybe Ashley had come back here looking for Mommy Dearest instead of Mahsood, and Bell had simply been collateral damage.
Abby frowned at the picture and shook her head. “I’m sorry. She looks familiar, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen her. Who is she?”
Tate slipped his notebook back into his pocket. “Just a person of interest on another case.”
The woman nodded and continued leading the way down the hall, but one look in Chase’s direction suggested the cop wasn’t so gullible. While Tate doubted the deputy recognized Ashley as a relative of Rebecca’s, he was smart enough to know Tate wouldn’t flash her picture if she wasn’t important.
“So, you going to tell me yet what the hell all that was about in there?” Chase asked when they left the research center a little while later. “Who the hell is this Mahsood guy, and what’s his involvement in all this? Don’t try to tell me he’s not involved, because your face lit up like a Christmas tree when you saw him and Bell in that picture. And how do Congresswoman Brannon and that woman in the surveillance photo fit into this?”
Tate came to a halt beside the passenger side of the police car, trying to figure out how much of the story to get into. He didn’t want Chase walking into a situation totally blind, because confusion at the wrong moment could get the guy—and possibly him—killed. But full disclosure wasn’t an option, either.
Ultimately, he decided to tell Chase enough to give him a clue what kind of crap he was wading into without revealing details that would completely freak him out.
“Mahsood has been involved in some extremely unconventional medical research both here in the United States and abroad,” he said after they’d both climbed in the police cruiser. “Research that has led to a lot of people ending up dead—or worse.”