Death Cache

by Tiffinie Helmer

  “Thank you, God,” Nadia muttered behind her, slumping against a knoll. The terrain had changed again with the altitude they’d been steadily dropping. They were at the edge of a wide expanse—thin, toothpick trees at their back, an open space dotted with cliffs and boulders in front of them. It was a glacier bed of years past that would take probably a millennium or so for the vegetation to grow back.

  “Let’s make camp here,” Gage said, slowly taking off the two backpacks he’d been carrying, his and Robert’s both. He winced—the weight must have been a strain for him over the hours they’d hiked.

  The men had taken on extra weight at the beginning so that her and Nadia’s packs were lighter, and now Gage had been shouldering it all.

  Robert groaned as she helped him to the ground. She placed her backpack behind him so he had something to rest his head against.

  Tern glanced around the open area, grateful to see a stream running a few hundred yards from them.

  Gage caught where her attention had been going. “Think there’s any fish in that creek?”

  She doubted she had the strength to throw a knife. “Doubt it. Not deep enough.”

  “We gotta find something to eat,” Robert started up again. “I’ve been shot. I need to keep my strength up.”

  How much food did it take to feed this man? When she was hurt, the last thing she wanted was food. Sleep, on the other hand, begged for her indulgence.

  “I’m too tired to eat,” Nadia said, echoing Tern’s thoughts. “I say we sleep and worry about food in the morning. Though I wouldn’t say no to another Almond Joy before bedtime.”

  Tern opened her pack, dug out the candy bars, and handed them around. Eating the chocolate shut up Robert for a few minutes, but not for long.

  “This isn’t going to tie me over until breakfast.”

  “Rob, can it.” Gage said. “Let’s get shelter and then we’ll go hunting.”

  “Fine,” Robert conceded.

  A flare of warning had Tern sitting up. She couldn’t let Gage and Robert go hunting. The four of them had to stay together.

  “Can we build a fire?” Tern asked. “I need to heat water to clean Robert’s wound.” Maybe she could find a minute to talk to Gage if they were gathering firewood.

  Gage shook his head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. It would pinpoint our position.”

  “I can build a smokeless fire,” Robert said. “And it would help keep any unwanted predators at bay.”

  “I’m more worried about the two-legged animals than four,” Gage said. He took a moment and then nodded. “Build the fire. Nadia, gather wood.”

  Nadia nodded.

  “Don’t wander far,” Gage said. “Tern, could you put your handy knowledge to work and maybe find us something to eat that we don’t have to kill?”

  “Sure.” She motioned her head for him to follow her. He caught on without any prodding, doing so without it looking suspicious.

  “I’ll give you a hand.” His palm settled on the small of her back. It took everything she had not to lean into him and rest her worries on his broad, strong shoulders as they walked down the slope toward the stream.

  They walked in silence, still in view of the others, but with the breeze blowing behind them so their words wouldn’t travel.

  Gage regarded her from under hooded eyes. “Why haven’t you asked if I was the one who took your dad’s arctic tern?”

  “I trust you.”

  He held her eyes and was the first to look away. “You shouldn’t.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “There are things you don’t know about me either, Tern. Don’t be so quick to trust me.”

  “I can’t help it. That isn’t what I wanted to talk about.” She took a deep breath and blurted it out. “I was almost positive the killer was Robert until he took a bullet that could’ve been meant for me.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “I was traveling along those same lines. Now I owe the son of a bitch for saving your life. Either Robert is very disciplined, which I don’t see, or he isn’t the killer.”

  “Robert reacts, he doesn’t plan. I think you nailed it that the killer is very disciplined.”

  Gage shook his head. “I just don’t see him as the one behind this.” He glanced up to where Nadia was gathering sticks.

  Tern followed his gaze. “Not Nadia again.”

  “She hadn’t fired her gun, but what if she’s working with a partner?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  “A partner?” Tern sighed and rubbed a hand over her brow. “Gage, that just doesn’t make sense. She’s my best friend. Hell, she doesn’t have the physical strength to kill Lucky or Mac, let alone the desire. What would she gain from their deaths?”

  “Take a minute and entertain the possibility.”

  “You’re barking up the wrong dog sled. Tell me how she would have been able to cut off Lucky’s head?”

  “Partner, remember? Even if she didn’t have someone kill them, she could have surprised Lucky. Granted, cutting off his head is a stretch, but she could have done it.”

  “You don’t sound very convinced.”

  “I’m not, all right.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “I just know that when we go against what she wants, someone ends up dead. What if she set up this whole fiasco? She’d have to have help. Don’t you think it’s interesting that whoever was shooting backed off once Nadia was with us? He could have picked us off one by one, and there haven’t been any attempts since then.”

  “I don’t have an answer for that. I know Nadia better than Robert. Better than you. She doesn’t have it in her to kill someone.”

  “Believe me, we all have it in us to kill.” He glanced away from her toward the jagged, icy shroud of the Brooks Range looming in the distance.

  “Gage.” She put her hand on his arm. “Why didn’t you call me?” He didn’t pretend not to know what she was referring to.

  “I couldn’t.” He swallowed. “I knew you would’ve caught a plane to New Mexico, and I couldn’t let you see me like that.”

  “I would have understood. I do understand.”

  “Drop it, Tern. I don’t want to talk about it.” Ghosts reflected in his eyes before he blinked them away.

  A stab of hurt twisted in her heart, and she turned away toward the stream.

  “You say you understand, but I don’t want you to. I hated that I took his life, okay, and I hate that, if given the choice, I would do it again. What kind of man does that make me?” Before she could respond he answered the question himself. “It makes me a murderer.”

  “You did what you needed to in order to protect those you love. That makes you a hero.”

  “Right,” he scoffed. “My sister sure as hell doesn’t see it that way.”

  “Give her time. Hopefully she’ll get into therapy.”

  “I doubt it. She blames me for her shitty life, not the asshole she married.”

  “You’re easy to blame.” When his brows rose in surprise she continued, “What I meant is that it’s easier to blame you than take responsibility for her part in what happened. She married the asshole, remember.”

  He studied her for a moment. His eyes softened. “You’re very wise, do you know that?”

  She quirked a smile. “I’ve been told.”

  He raised his hand to smooth back a section of her hair that had pulled loose of her braid, but stopped before he actually touched her. “I can’t fall for you again.”

  “So you’ve said.” She tried to deflect the hurt his words caused, to no avail.

  “Don’t do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “Look hurt.”

  “Believe me, I’m doing my best to hide it.”

  She turned away and he spun her around. Swearing, he jerked her into his arms, squeezing her to his chest.

  “You’re killing me here, Tern,” he said in a voice so low she wouldn’t have caught the tortured words if he hadn’t muttered them in
her hair.

  “Ditto,” she murmured into the heavy cotton fabric of his shirt, trying to resist the urge to nuzzle.

  He swore again, and tipped her chin up. She read his intent, part of her furious he would think of holding her, kissing her, when he said he wouldn’t love her. But when his lips trapped hers, pressing hard in a kiss of desperation that spoke to her own, she couldn’t push him away. His tongue breached her lips and tangled with hers. She groaned, her hands tangling in his shirt, her traitorous body rubbing up against him, trying with every cell to fuse to his.

  He wrenched his mouth from hers and buried his lips in the crook of her neck. “What the hell am I going to do about you?”

  She didn’t know if he was asking some form of higher being or her. God knew she had no answers.

  She freed herself of his arms, even though the action was like ripping off duct tape from a festered sore. “When you figure that out, let me know.”

  One last searching look and she moved away from the tempting heat of his touch. She staggered toward the stream, trying to keep one foot in front of the other, rather than fall into a helpless heap and beg him to take her. Part of her was willing to take whatever he could give her. The other wanted everything. If Gage couldn’t give her that, he wasn’t the man for her, but while her head knew this, her body ached.

  She bent to gather water in the collapsible bladder she’d brought with her, and caught her reflection in the clear waters of the mountain run off. She was a mess. Her hair was everywhere. Sections were torn free of her braid from tree branches grabbing at her on the long hike. She didn’t have an ounce of makeup to hide behind, and her eyes were deep pools of exhaustion and pain. She needed to distance herself from Gage, protect herself from further heartache, until they could get down this blasted mountain.

  She needed to quit thinking of herself and think of Robert, up the hill bleeding and in pain. There was so much more to occupy her thoughts and feelings than Gage Fallon.

  Gage stood silently next to Tern and mentally berated himself. He needed to start thinking with his head and not with what stretched out his fucking pants. It wasn’t fair to keep playing with her affections.

  Gage knew Tern cared for him. He saw it, felt it with each long look she sent his way.

  He didn’t say anything to Tern as he took the filled bladder and hiked beside her up the hill toward Nadia and Robert.

  Robert still lay in the position they’d left him. He couldn’t be hurting that bad. The jerk just didn’t want to help make camp. He was milking it.

  Nadia had been busy gathering dry wood scattered across the hillside. An avalanche must have wiped out this area years ago, littering the ground with lots of broken bits of trees.

  Gage built a fire, doing his best to make it smokeless. He stood, stretched, and noticed a rock cropping a hundred yards or so above of them. There was a ledge that made a natural shelf. He’d bet there was a cave under the ledge. It would keep them out of the elements for the night and give them cover in case they were being followed by an outside force.

  “I’m going to hike up there and check that out,” he said, pointing to the rock cropping.

  “What about bears?” Nadia asked. “Couldn’t that be a den?”

  “Yeah.” He was more worried about their killer lying in wait than bears.

  Tern handed him his rifle without making eye contact. “Toss in some rocks before you stick your head in there, in case it’s occupied.”

  Guess she wasn’t worried about him, but then he figured even if she did love him, she’d still hand him his rifle and tell him to be smart when poking his fool head into caves. The woman was as tenacious and resistant as any bear he might encounter. She expected a mate to be a man, to go out and hunt, protect, and provide. She would never sit back and let a man beat on her, or wait for whatever nibblets of affection he was willing to divvy out.

  No, she expected everything from him, but then she’d give everything of herself in return.

  The realization staggered him.

  Everything Tern had to give would be a thing to experience and treasure. Could he handle that without losing who he was?

  The thoughts pounded around in his head like a hail storm as he climbed to the outcropping. It looked deserted, but he’d bet it was the winter home to some large animal. He threw in some rocks as Tern suggested and waited. For good measure, he repeated the action. Silence greeted him. He crab-walked inside and gave his eyes time to adjust to the darkness. The space was roughly eight feet by ten. Big enough to shelter the four of them. Their body heat would keep them warm without a fire, unless it snowed again. There were small animal bones attesting to the spot being a favorite. But they were dry and dusty so he figured the owners wouldn’t begrudge them squatting for the night.

  He returned to the others and found Robert in fresh dressing, hot water on the fire with Nadia feeding the flames more wood. But no Tern.

  A shiver of warning slithered up his spine. “Where’s Tern?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  “Chill, man,” Robert said from his reclined position. “She’s only been gone a few minutes. She probably had to answer the call of nature.”

  Gage wanted to strangle the man. Then Tern appeared, safe and sound, her stride confident and sure. He shook with the need to scoop her up in his arms and then shake the living daylights out of her for scaring the shit out of him.

  “Where the hell have you been? How many times do we need to go over this? You don’t take off alone, and if you need to be alone, you tell someone where the hell you’re headed. Shit, woman, you want to be next with a knife in your chest or your head cut off and displayed on a stump!”

  “Whoa, dial it back, Gage,” Robert said as Tern paled. “She’s obviously fine.”

  “I was just over that knoll, within shouting distance,” Tern explained. “I noticed some arctic hares, figured they’d make a nice dinner.”

  He spotted the dead rabbits hanging from her grasp by the ears. His heart had a harder time slowing back to its normal rhythm. “Don’t do that again.”

  She stared at him and then nodded. “I won’t.”

  He heaved out a breath. “Good. You need any help with those?” He pointed to the fresh kill she’d supplied.

  “No, I got it.”

  “Fine. The cave will make a good shelter for the night.”

  “Good.”

  They nodded at each other until he swore and had to turn away. He went over to Robert and knelt down next to him. “Listen up,” he kept his voice low, “that wound of yours is nothing but a scratch. I expect you to do your share. You should have made sure Tern was protected while I was gone. Don’t make me suspect you being behind this, because I won’t hesitate to leave you here as food for the wild animals that roam this mountain.

  “What the hell?” Robert blustered, cradling his arm.

  “You know what I’m talking about. You want Tern to fawn over you, I get it. But she isn’t the type of woman to find that attractive. So man up or be left behind.”

  “You really are a son of a bitch.”

  “Damn right.” Gage returned to the fire to find Tern once again gone. “Where—”

  Nadia pointed.

  Tern was just above them picking some greens. He’d have to put a leash on her in order to settle down his blood pressure. At this rate, she was going to give him a heart attack.

  He kept her in his peripheral vision as he scanned the rest of the desolated area. They seemed all alone on this deserted mountainside. Down in the valley, a migrating herd of caribou grazed peacefully. His stomach rumbled. What he wouldn’t give for a caribou steak. But they wouldn’t be able to consume a whole caribou before it started to spoil. Rabbit wasn’t his favorite. They were usually gamey and greasy to boot, while not having a lot of meat on their bones. Plus he’d owned a rabbit as a child, and it made him feel a little sick every time he partook of one.

  Tern rejoined them, ignoring him while she skinned the hares,
rinsed, and stuffed them with the plants she’d picked. He tried not to show his wince as she skewered them with a stick. She set up a type of spit for the rabbits to be turned, handed one over to Nadia while she manned the other.

  She was a handy woman. He’d expected to take care of her. Not the other way around.

  It was peaceful while they waited for dinner to cook. The acrid smell of the fire soothed while his stomach grumbled with each sizzle of fat the meat dripped into the flames. The lush freshness of the wilderness, peppered with hidden dangers, made each sensation sharper, sweeter. The sky with its puffy clouds seemed close enough to touch if he jumped. They were near the top of the world here. If they weren’t in a fight for their lives, he’d be resting back with his hands behind his head and reveling in God’s backyard. Instead, apprehension pumped hot in his blood, waiting for the devil to slink out the shadows.

  Robert fought his way to his feet, and ambled over to the campfire. “Sure smells good, Tern.”

  “Thanks.”

  She didn’t spare him much of a glance, making Gage chuckle inside. She wouldn’t go for a man who wasn’t her equal, and Robert had proven he wasn’t in her realm. Except he had taken a bullet for her.

  Clearly, Tern didn’t want to encourage him.

  “How are you feeling, Robert?” Nadia asked.

  “Better,” he muttered his eyes never leaving Tern.

  Tern removed a hare from the fire and cut into the thigh joint with her knife. It must have passed her inspection, for she handed it off to Robert. He, grabbed it with his fingers, swore as he tossed it back and forth, swore again as he pulled the wound on his shoulder, before finally grabbing the thigh with the corner of his shirt.

  “Sorry,” Tern said, biting back a smile. “It’s hot.”

  “Obviously,” Robert muttered, moving back to where he’d been reclining.

  Nadia laughed and tried to cover it with a cough. She pulled her rabbit from the fire and offered it to Gage to cut off a piece. He did so because he was hungry and at this point it didn’t matter what he ate, as long as it silenced his gnawing stomach. One bite and his saliva glands flooded his mouth. “Damn, this is good.” And it was. “How’d you get rabbit to taste this good?”