Caitlin and Mac nodded in unison.
“Good.” The nurse found the TV remote and turned down the volume. Then she crossed to the wall where the blood pressure cuff hung. “As long as I’m here, I’m might as well check your vitals,” she said to Sean. “If there’s so much as a blip, then your visitors will have to leave.”
“Hell, Angie,” Sean protested. “They just got here.”
The nurse’s lips thinned and she lifted an eyebrow. “A blip.”
Her father heaved a sigh of submission and held out his arm. Caitlin had seen only one other person make her father acquiesce. Grandma Mac. She was amazed at the transformation brought about by the nurse. A moment ago, he’d acted as though he didn’t want her in the room and with the nurse’s threat, he now wanted them to stay. Talk about reverse psychology.
Nurse Angie hooked a stethoscope in her ears. Caitlin would’ve sworn the woman took pleasure in pumping the cuff to its fullest over her father’s thin arm, seemingly to impress upon him who was in charge. Air hissed through the valve as she slowly released the pressure. The nurse frowned at Sean.
Sean’s expression went rigid. “You’re not making them leave,” he told her.
Nurse Angie’s response was to pick up his wrist and time his pulse against her watch. Caitlin held her breath at her father’s look of vulnerability as he waited for the nurse’s approval. Then he caught her staring at him and the look was gone, replaced by his mask of belligerence. She wondered if she’d imagined the weakness at all.
After finishing her task, the nurse glanced at Mac and Caitlin. “No more shouting.”
“See. I’m fine,” Sean jutted out his chin in a taunt.
The nurse released a hiss through her lips, but clicked her jaw shut. She left the room, closing the door behind her.
Sean started to chuckle, but it quickly turned into a cough. Mac filled a glass with water and handed it to the older man. After Sean took a swallow he said, “Damn, if that isn’t the fastest I’ve seen her move since I arrived.”
Caitlin fisted her hands. She wanted to hit something. This situation was too similar to her mother’s last days in the hospital. Caitlin had only been seven at the time, but the memories flooded her with overwhelming force. She hadn’t thought about those horrible days in years. Not since Grandma Mac died. Now she faced reliving the trauma all over again with her father. “Dad, what tests are the doctors doing?”
Sean slammed the water glass on the bedside table with such force that water splashed over the rim and down his arm, but he ignored it. “My health stopped being your concern when you ignored my wishes and walked out of the house, Caitlin.”
Mac stepped forward, an objection forming on his lips.
The look Sean gave Mac stopped him. “And I’ll thank you to keep out of it.”
Heat prickled along Caitlin’s neck. The suffocating frustration she had experienced the night she and her father argued about her job at Northstar surfaced all over again. Only this time, Mac was here to witness her humiliation. With tremendous effort, she fought the urge to run from the room. “I’m here, Dad.” She swallowed the tremor in her voice. “I came back.”
“You came home because Byron sent you.”
Her face went cold. “He called you?” Byron O’Neal had been adamant that Caitlin face her father and admit her failure on her own terms. Instead, it seemed her employer hadn’t trusted her. His betrayal stung almost as much as her father’s rejection.
“After Mac tried to find you. Yes, he called me.”
Her legs wobbled, but she refused to sit. “And he told you about what happened in—”
“He told me he sent you home.” There was a gleam in her father’s eyes that hadn’t been there when they’d first entered his room. “Why did he send you home, Caitlin?” her father asked with precise insight.
Her father didn’t know about Atlanta.
Byron hadn’t betrayed her. She’d betrayed herself. “I…” She glanced from her father to Mac, whose interested gaze offered no retreat. After wiping her palms on her jeans, she stuffed balled fists into her pockets. There was no way out but to admit the truth. “I screwed up my first assignment.” That was an understatement.
“Byron doesn’t send screw-ups home. He fires them.”
Sean’s statement landed squarely at the bottom of her stomach. If she had only made a minor mistake, she would’ve simply been put back on probation. Her inability to correctly assess the situation and follow protocol almost killed another agent. Luck, and incredible timing saved Agent Cartland’s life. His luck, his timing. Not hers. She’d been found wanting when the dust settled.
She cleared the guilt out of her throat. “I believe Byron made an exception for me.”
“He made an exception when he took you on.” Sean shifted in his chair. A look of pain crossed his face. Mac reached to help, but Sean waved him off. “I tried to warn you. You weren’t ready.”
“If you had your way, I would never be ready,” Caitlin said.
“That’s not true. I’ve always wanted the best for you. But it takes maturity and street smarts—”
“Which I had.” An awkward silence followed. “Have.” She corrected herself.
“Obviously it served you well.” The sarcastic bite in her father’s voice salted the open wound of her failure. “You almost lasted ten months, in a field that takes at least three years before you’re dry behind the ears. Another five before you’re considered a seasoned agent.”
Caitlin clamped her mouth shut. What could she say? Her father was right, she was wrong. She was the one with the fatal error in judgment. He was so disgusted with her he didn’t even want her by his hospital bed. “I’ll wait in the SUV.” She tossed the words at Mac. Without looking back, just like when she left home the first time, she stormed out the door.
****
Mac listened to the sound of Caitlin’s angry stride down the hallway. He wanted to chase after her but instead stayed in Sean’s room. “What in the hell did you do that for?” he asked Sean.
“Do what?”
“For heaven’s sake, Sean. Caitlin came here. To see you. And you practically sent her packing again.”
“She refused to own up to her problem,” Sean said. “Or didn’t you notice?”
“All I noticed is the two of you going after each other. And for what? What can either of you gain by fighting?”
“It’s not a simple fight, lad.” Sean pushed to his feet and shuffled to the side of the bed. He sat down heavily and scooted back until he lay in a semi-prone position.
Mac hated seeing his strong friend reduced to this weakened state. He waited patiently for Sean to continue. When he didn’t, Mac asked, “You’re implying it’s more than arguing for the sake of arguing?”
Sean sighed. “Mac, I may not walk out of here.” Mac started to interrupt, but Sean lifted his hand. “Caitlin’s got to be strong enough to stand on her own. She can’t keep running.”
“Have you considered that maybe she didn’t run away, but that you’ve pushed her away?”
“Then she needs to learn to push back.”
Chapter Five
The musky scent of fall teased Caitlin’s senses as she headed into the national forest above Rockton on the back of Uncle Jack’s bike. She had forgotten how much she missed this time of the year in the mountains. Autumn didn’t feel or smell like this in Washington, D.C.
When summer lifted from the small mountain valley, so did the haze and thick heat that accompanied it. Autumn was her favorite season. The red and gold in the undergrowth contrasted brilliantly against the dark green of the tall pines. Crisp air sharpened all the images, and when all was quiet, the forest sounds carried clearly on the breeze.
Except nothing was quiet about Uncle Jack’s rigid-frame, 1976 Shovelhead, as he geared down to negotiate the hairpin curve on the two-way road. Caitlin leaned into the turn, appreciating the feel of the powerful motor under her. With Uncle Jack’s Sportster out of commiss
ion, she wasn’t able to enjoy her own unrestricted access to the road, but there was something reassuring about leaning against the solid back of Jack MacAlistair.
Jack had been the one who’d shown her that taking it easy wasn’t necessarily playing it safe. Risk was a part of his everyday regimen. Caitlin watched how he’d handled the hard knocks life dumped on him. He was the best at making the most of a bad situation. She’d thought she’d learned all the lessons she needed by example, without having to make mistakes on her own.
She was wrong.
Her foray into the hazardous world of private investigation proved that nothing took the place of hands-on training. Whether it was hiking until exhausted through the forest with Mac, watching Jack dodge a knife during a fight, or sitting for hours of training in the lab at Northstar. None of those experiences, not even her own father’s shooting, prepared her to deal with the ambush and Sloan Cartland getting shot on her first real assignment.
In hindsight, she should have seen the situation arise. All the indicators were present—from the way the target had allowed her to get so close by acting as though he didn’t know she was there, to the way she’d disregarded her training and ignored Cartland’s commands. She hadn’t recognized the trap and consequently walked right into it. A simple tail-and-report assignment that sent bullets flying and almost killed her partner.
“That backside of yours ready for a rest, pipsqueak?” Jack shouted over the rumble of the bike.
Caitlin smiled. It was as though Uncle Jack heard her thoughts and was determined to put a stop to her self-flagellation. “More than ready,” she shouted back.
He slowed the bike and coasted onto a wide shoulder.
She felt the pop and crunch of the gravel under the tires as much as heard it. When the motor died, Caitlin unbuckled the helmet chinstrap and stretched her neck. “Why did the club decide to hold the rally in Oregon?” she asked. “Doesn’t the helmet law cramp everyone’s style?”
“Not when the founding members say this is where we meet.”
“And, of course, you’re one of those founding members, aren’t you?” She grinned. “Or maybe you were too lazy to travel someplace else.”
“Watch your mouth, little girl,” he growled. “I can always leave you on the side of road to walk home.”
“I’m only teasing, Uncle Jack. Weren’t you the club’s first president?”
Jack’s sigh blended with the ping of the cooling engine. He climbed off the bike, pulled off his helmet and shook loose his ponytail. “A long time ago, pipsqueak. Before you came to live here.”
In the distance, the rumble of V-twin engines climbing the mountainous road disturbed the surrounding serenity. “Here come the others.”
Jack smiled as he fished a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. “Yep.” He placed a cigarette between his lips and without lighting it, took a drag. “Gonna be a great gathering. Special anniversaries always bring out the old-timers.”
Caitlin squinted to see through the trees. Flashes of chrome caught the sunlight. “I didn’t know this was an anniversary rally.”
“Twenty-five years. I expect to see some buddies I haven’t seen since…” He lifted the cigarette from his lips and looked at it with longing. “Well, since before I got out of the joint and had to give up smokes.”
Caitlin rolled her shoulders to ease a kink in her back. Slouching didn’t hurt as much when she was driving, but as a passenger, her poor posture strained her back. “I promise not to cramp your weekend. I need some time on my own, anyway. This was a good excuse to get away.”
“You can only run for so long.” Jack reminded her. “Then you’ll have to face those demons head-on.”
“I know. I just need a couple of days to figure it out.” Jack hadn’t asked how her visit with her father went, and she didn’t volunteer the information. After a restless night, it was probably written all over her face.
“You’ll get no quarrel from me.” He chuckled. “I keep the shades drawn in my glass house.”
“Thanks for understanding.” Sliding off the back of the bike that still gave off tiny pops while the big engine cooled, she wandered around to stretch her legs. This late in the year, the small runoff streams were all dried up. Their turn-off spot happened to be next to a fork in the road. One leg of the fork headed farther up the mountainside, while the other gave way to a concrete drive blocked by a large gate topped with razor wire. Off to the side was a security card reader. “That’s new, isn’t it?”
Jack glanced at the gate and nodded to the small, inconspicuous sign. “Yep.”
“What’s behind all the security?”
“About a year and a half ago, Unified Biotech built a new laboratory.” He rolled the cigarette between his fingers.
“A bio-lab?” Caitlin shuddered. Images of her botched assignment crowded in with sharp focus, as though fate refused to give her a reprieve from her own folly.
“Yep.” Jack answered, seemingly oblivious to her quandary.
“Why here, in the middle of nowhere?”
“That’s the beauty of it.” Jack gave a short, humorless laugh. “If some of those nasty little buggers escape, the mortality rate won’t be as high as it would be in a more populated area.”
“I guess that macabre logic makes some sense.” It also made sense now why the target's flight into Atlanta had originated in Montana. There was another bio-lab outside of Missoula, Montana.
Jack tucked the battered cigarette back inside the pack. “I suppose.” He nodded at the gate. “These guys picked up some big government contract. Overrode a lot of petitions to have the facility relocated. The next thing you know, they’ve blocked off the perimeter around the entire property. Sure pissed off the hunters and hikers.”
“I can imagine.” Caitlin didn’t care much for hunting, but hiking the backwoods above Rockton had been one of her and Mac’s favorite pastimes when they were kids. She eyed the gates. They looked forbidding enough to keep out the most adventurous soul. It seemed strange that Northstar hadn’t received any intel on this lab, but maybe the men she’d seen in Atlanta didn’t know about it. After the weekend, she’d call the firm with a heads-up. It would be a step toward returning to good graces with the director.
For now, she’d forget about the case, and past mistakes, and work on an attitude adjustment. “Has the lab complained about the rally being so close to their facility?” She gave the gates a final glance as she walked back to the bike.
Jack shook his head. “They put up a bit of a fuss when we were getting the permits, but the campgrounds are far enough away, they won’t even notice.”
“I suppose a weekend with all the bikers around won’t impact them too much.”
“I wouldn’t worry about the lab. They’ll be safe from us. Now, those bleeding-heart environmentalists might be another matter.” Jack tugged his helmet over his ponytail as the rolling thunder of bikes drew closer. “Let’s get going.” He settled back onto the bike.
Caitlin donned her helmet, adjusted her backpack, and climbed on behind Uncle Jack. She’d barely settled on the bitch-pad before he kicked the motor over and revved the bike onto the road just ahead of the pack.
The next ten minutes were a blur of pine and golden-tan aspen. The fresh mountain breeze did wonders for whipping away most of her worries. Jack slowed the bike for the turn into the campgrounds, kicking up a bit of dust. After they crossed the cattle guard, a man, as broad as he was tall approached them. Jack rolled to a stop, but didn’t turn off the engine.
“Hey there, Dunny Boy,” Jack called over the noise of bikes idling behind them.
“Jacko.” The man eyed Caitlin. “Got an old lady for the rally, eh?”
Caitlin straightened her spine. She loved Uncle Jack like her own blood, and riding into the rally under his protection was a good idea, but she wasn’t anyone’s old lady. Jack shook with laughter.
“Easy, pipsqueak,” Jack warned. “You’re on my turf now.” He looked at the bi
g man. “Martin Dunn, this is Caitlin Malone and she’s with me. Make sure everyone else knows it too.”
Martin bent to look Caitlin in the eyes. He gave her a wink. “Got it, boss.”
“How come you’re the Sergeant of Arms?” Jack’s question pulled Dunn’s attention away from Caitlin. “I thought Freddie was pulling that duty.”
“He was supposed to but couldn’t get the time off. I volunteered.”
“Your wife must be doing better, then,” Jack said. “I wouldn’t think you’d want to be away.”
Had her chin not been strapped in, Caitlin’s jaw would have dropped at the transformation of the big man. His expression softened and an ear-to-ear grin split his face. “She’s going to be just fine. We’re going to Salt Lake City to see a specialist next week.”
“Glad to hear that.” Jack glanced over his shoulder at the bikers lined up behind him. “Well, I’ll let you get back to your duties. Keep the ‘alphabet’ guys to a minimum, would ya?”
“Don’t you know it,” Dunn agreed.
With that, Jack gave the throttle a twist and headed to the large clearing where bikes began to line up.
“I didn’t realize you call them ‘alphabet’ guys, too,” Caitlin said as Jack backed his bike into the long row of chrome and leather that had already started to form.
“What else would you call the ATF, FBI, DEA and our very own OHP?”
Caitlin laughed. “Law enforcement.”
“You got it. And don’t forget the USDA.”
“Department of Agriculture?” Caitlin asked, immediately thinking of Mac and his Forest Ranger position. “Why would they care?”
“This is their territory. We may have obtained the legal permits to hold our rally, but you can bet they have a vested interest in this party.”
Then another thought struck her. “Is there going to be a problem with me being here?” It hadn’t occurred to her that her sworn duties to uphold the law under Northstar Security’s code of conduct might conflict with her desire to let loose for the weekend.
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