Jake hung his head and ran his fingers through his hair. He peered at her and shrugged. “My last assignment was tough. I didn’t particularly care for the results.”
Africa had been one of many rough assignments, which led a shred of credence to his explanation. “I can understand that. Being on American soil is like taking a vacation, isn’t it?” She only half bought this act. However, she didn’t push him. It could wait. She’d asked Steve to run his bio. Until then, Cassidy would reserve judgment.
He tilted his head and continued his disconcerting scrutiny of her face. The verbal pause heightened her senses, causing a funny sensation to ripple down her spine. Nerves.
Jake leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table, studying her with a cool detachment. “I’m not an idiot, you know. My doctorate isn’t fake.”
Cassidy swallowed against the sudden dryness in her throat and pushed a little farther away from the table. “I never considered that.” She rose and placed her hand on his shoulder. “Let’s blow this taco joint. My legs are screaming to be stretched.”
Jake’s eyebrows shot to his hairline. She hung her head and took a deep breath, kicking herself mentally. I can’t believe I just said that. “Get your mind out of the gutter. You know what I mean.” He chuckled, and she punched him in the arm as he passed by her.
“Ouch. Don’t beat the help.” Jake grabbed a black bag, waved it at her, and held the door open. “Have test kit, will travel.”
Edward Fiske pushed the disconnect button on his cell phone. An unsettled feeling caused his stomach to clench. He didn’t like this new arrangement. Maybe it was the fact he’d been up all night finishing the paperwork for the patent, or maybe he had a valid reason for his concern. Twisting his neck to the left and right, he stretched his tightened muscles. Even the quick swig of his favorite soft drink hadn’t helped infuse any energy; it’d tasted flat in the confines of the sterile lab.
He sighed and bent to peer into the narrow lens of the microscope, the metal of the eyepiece warm from his hours of verifying the contents of each vial. Jason had done as promised. The past fortnight of long hours resulted in the accumulation of the necessary number of spores as well as a substantial backup. Now he had to deliver the product. However, the antidote had yet to be field tested.
They’d been ready to head into Yellowstone this morning to attempt to locate the infected wolves and inject the antidote, but the board called and demanded all the vials be prepared. They didn’t care that CPV-19 ran rampant in Yellowstone or that the antidote had yet to be properly tested.
That was the noose that tightened around his neck.
A muffled noise penetrated the steel ceiling of the laboratory. Edward spun around in his chair as the trapdoor opened. Jason slid down the steep metal stairs, entering the lab in the fashion sailors used on submarines. The scent of dirt and outdoors followed him, an odd acrid smell trailing behind. It reminded him of burnt hair. Edward wrinkled his nose then pulled out a neatly folded handkerchief, holding it beneath his nose before he sneezed and contaminated the countertops.
Jason noticed his expression. “Smoke’s gettin’ bad.”
He blew his nose and nodded, wadding up the dirty cotton and shoving it into his back pocket. Right. He’d forgotten about the summer fires burning to the north of them. “I checked with forest services yesterday afternoon and they indicated the fire wouldn’t be anywhere near our location.”
“Still stinks.”
“That’s not the only thing.” He didn’t want to admit his concerns, but he felt Jason should know.
“Whazzup?”
Edward pushed away from the table and crossed his arms over his chest. He absently plucked at the soft linen of his shirt. “The board doesn’t want to wait for the antidote to be tested.”
“Yeah, so?”
Could the kid be that stupid? “It means we’re releasing a biotoxin with no guarantee of a cure.”
Jason used his palms to heft himself onto the counter. He sat and stared at Edward, swinging his feet back and forth. “That’s bad cuz?”
Exasperated, Edward focused on the pendulum motion of the lab assistant’s well worn work boots. “Jason, the investors are requiring us to hand over the virus to them in quantities that could possibly kill millions.” He picked up a pen and uncapped it, staring at the dried ink on the end of the tip.
“That sucks.” Jake leaned against the glass pane separating the working lab from the negative air flow chamber, absently twisting his thumbs around one another. “Don’t do it.”
Snapping the pen cap back in place, Edward dropped it on the table. “It’s not that simple.” He rose and stretched his arms to the ceiling, stifling a yawn.
“Why?”
Edward stopped his movement, suddenly self-conscious of his girth. “I won’t get my patent.”
“And?”
He stared at Jason, wondering if he was truly this ignorant. “Without that, I can’t introduce my findings to the scientific community. We will have wasted five years for nothing.”
Jason whistled softly. “You could introduce it without the patent.”
True. But it went against everything Edward craved. “No.”
“Don’t sweat it, boss. We’ve had a good run here. It’s time to move on. Just give them what they want. As for me, I’m looking forward to sticking my feet in some warm sand and soaking up rays.”
Edward paused before heading up the metal stairs, his stubby fingers wrapped around a metal rung and his grip tightened in anger until he could feel every line and indentation on the stair tread against his palm. “It’s always been about the money for you, hasn’t it?” He concentrated and released his hold, wiping the painful marks away with his thumb.
Jason cocked a brow. “Like what else is there?”
With a shake of his head, Edward turned and climbed up the ladder in disgust. He didn’t deny the brilliance of the kid’s mind, but he detested the lack of professional achievement. What a waste. “I’ll see you later.”
A soft laugh echoed up from the cellar, followed by a shout. “Peace!”
CHAPTER 11
THE INTERIOR OF A BUILDING NEVER FELT THIS WARM OR WELcoming. Cassidy rested her back against the wall, feeling as if she’d run five hundred miles with a thousand pounds strapped to her back. She glanced sideways and watched Jake insert their room card. “I think I’m tired now.” Not even the rhythmic music filtering down the hall from the bar could entice her to move in any fashion that didn’t get her closer to a shower.
Jake pushed open the door and slid her a snarky grin. “Oh I think there’s at least one more streambed or watering hole we haven’t covered.”
Rolling off the wall, Cassidy stumbled into the room. “No. I think we’ve traipsed to every water source from here to Idaho. And if we haven’t, I don’t care.” Light from a streetlamp filtered through the window, bathing the conference area in a soft fluorescent glow. “You won’t mind if I skip polite and jump straight into rude and head for bed without so much as a see-you-in-the-morning, do you?” Cassidy heard Jake’s answering laughter; it filled the vacant space with warmth. His company today had been tolerable, but she craved solitude.
“I’m going to run these samples.”
With her hand on the knob to her bedroom, Cassidy paused and glanced over her shoulder. “You’re kidding, right?” Damn. If she attempted to leave after her shower, she was convinced he’d insist on joining her. And she didn’t want company, nor did she feel like fighting about it.
Jake winked at her and dumped the case containing three dozen water samples on the conference table. His hair was mussed and sweat stained the edge of his t-shirt, but other than that he appeared rested. “No. I’m a night owl.” He moved toward his bedroom peeling his shirt off and displaying a disconcerting amount of muscle and skin. “I’ll shower, then work for awhile. I’ll keep the lights to a minimum, so you shouldn’t be disturbed.”
Disturbed? Lights weren’t disturbing. Bu
t his naked flesh was certainly distressing and created all sorts of violent reactions from her stomach to her toes. Cassidy thought about the punching bag back at headquarters and her commitment to remaining in control and dismissed her hormones, irritated at herself. “Do whatever you please.”
He glanced over his shoulder at the sharpness of her tone. “You okay?”
Rolling her eyes, Cassidy entered her bedroom and slammed the door. Jackass. First he ruined her perfectly planned evening by staying up and working, and then he purposely paraded his masculine buffness before her like a damn trophy. Jackass.
Moving toward the bed, Cassidy set the alarm on her cell phone. She’d take a two-hour nap after her shower, and then maybe Jake would be asleep and she could slip away for a few moments of much deserved peace.
Cassidy’s eyes fluttered open as the soft peal of her phone alarm rang beneath her pillow. She stretched and yawned, then rolled on her side and glanced down at the bottom of her door. No glow, which meant no lights on in the conference room.
Smiling, she slipped out of the comfort of her bed. Her shoulders burned, and she muffled a wince. The constant bending and twisting today had used muscles she’d left dormant for awhile. Note to self: bend and twist more.
Tiptoeing to the door, she turned the handle and prayed it wouldn’t squeak. Peering into the conference room, Cassidy verified it was empty and there was no light shining from beneath Jake’s door. She sighed in satisfaction and quietly pushed against the knob until it clicked and locked.
Padding over to the window, Cassidy unlocked it and slid it open. Due to the bitter cold winters, there wasn’t a huge bug population in Wyoming and screens were rarely used. She slipped outside, rubbing her arms against the sudden chill. Reaching back through the window, Cassidy snagged her sweatshirt, then closed the glass.
She grinned, did a little jig, and jogged toward the front parking lot. Not bothering to glance upward at the brilliant night sky, Cassidy concentrated on finding the Jeep. Her stomach flipped in excitement as she reached the vehicle. Finally, alone.
Locating the key Jake left beneath the steering column, Cassidy gunned the engine and drove away from Lake Lodge Inn. She needed Old Faithful. Driving past it earlier today had about killed her. She wanted to touch, to feel, and to do this without anyone around to witness her raw emotion.
Thirty minutes later, she reached the parking lot of Old Faithful Inn. Jumping out of the Jeep, Cassidy walked toward the geyser and settled herself on one of the many viewing benches to wait for the blessed moment. It was nearly midnight, and she was glad she’d remembered her sweatshirt. The chill night air swept across her face, causing goose bumps to rise on her arms.
Very little light emanated from the building to her left. Tourists, exhausted from a day of hiking and sightseeing, were all sleeping soundly within the comfortable confines of the inn. Shaking her head, she couldn’t help but smile at her sweet success in escaping the ever-present Jake Anderson.
Soft plumes of smoky water bubbled to the surface, escaping the prison of bleached volcanic rock. With a sudden sulfurous blast, Old Faithful erupted. Towers of misty fingers reached for the brilliant stars that sparkled and winked in a canopy of diamonds. Leaning forward, Cassidy studied this miracle of nature. She felt the spray of warm water kiss her cheeks and inhaled the memorable scent of the slightly sulfuric water, allowing it to carry her backward in time. Happiness of her youth made her heart tingle, and then the black hole of despair killed that joy.
Cassidy closed her eyes, determined to find a balance between the love for her parents and anguish at their death. It hurt. She gazed at the familiar sight of Old Faithful and prayed for peace.
It was a solitary moment, one she’d been seeking all day.
Her mind felt like it tripled in size in an attempt to absorb all the factions of the past twelve hours.
Nine years since she’d last seen this glorious miracle of nature. It didn’t seem possible. That would mean—she quickly calculated backward in time—that next month she turned thirty-three. Was that true? She frowned, repeating her math. Thirty-three? Cassidy looked down at the ground, carving a circle in the fine gravel with the tip of her sneaker. She certainly didn’t like the feeling that her internal clock suddenly seemed to be whipping its hands around in fast forward.
As Old Faithful bubbled down into a frothy mass, Cassidy checked her watch. She squinted to see the numbers glowing softly on its face and decided to wait another eighty minutes to enjoy an encore performance before returning to Lake Lodge.
Her thoughts were lost in the past.
Conversations of babbles and sputters trickled across the plain from mud pot to mud pot as geysers and hot springs soared to life then faded back to sleep. A long wailing cry pierced the gurgling murmurs. Cassidy jumped in surprise. Grinning, she pulled a small notepad from the back pocket of her jeans, quickly jotting down the direction of the wolf song. If the GPS stats didn’t show her anything, that’s where she’d begin her research.
First, however, she needed to meet with the Yellowstone officials.
“Therein lies the problem,” she said to her shadow.
Her insides knotted, and her head pounded.
Ethan.
It didn’t matter. Life wasn’t about what ifs. She’d chosen her path, accepted her future. Don’t look back.
Cassidy turned her mind to the circumstances that had brought her home. Tapping a finger against her notepad, she tried to think of something within the ecosystem that might cause this problem. Nothing. Her thoughts kept revolving around the phantoms of summers past and not the culprit of diminishing carnivores.
“Snap out of it, Lowell. This is no way to start an investigation.” Cassidy cleared her throat, tipped her head back, and inhaled the crisp night air. She was here to banish her ghosts. At least, that’s what she hoped. A little time alone would buy her the harmony she required to work within the boundaries of Yellowstone.
She glanced around and caught sight of movement beneath the great wooden pillars bracing the portcullis of the lodge and determined it was probably time to leave. The sensation of being watched made her frown. She didn’t sense any physical threat, but the emotional vulnerability she felt was reserved for her own private scrutiny and not available for public inspection. Cassidy turned her face away from Old Faithful Inn and scanned the winding path to her right.
What to do about her unresolved emotions for Ethan?
Forget that she used to love him. Forget that she blamed him for her parents’ death. Forget what an adolescent idiot she was to run away.
That thought alone dropped her guts into her socks. “Yes ma’am,” she spoke softly. “Super size that number one combo of shame and regret, and add a side of embarrassment.”
“Damn.” Rising from the bench, Cassidy selected the more remote path and walked slowly among the steamy holes and sulfur-scented crevasses. “The past is the past.” The underbrush rustled with activity as the pika, a small rodent resembling a very fat and furry rat, gathered food and socialized with its neighbors. Cassidy frowned and listened intently to the voices in the dark.
Her ears rang with the high-pitched yipping and screeching of a pack of coyotes chasing their dinner, but the lone wolf cry had never been answered.
She climbed behind the wheel of her Jeep. She was tired. It felt like years since returning from Africa, not days, and her back burned with taxed muscles. Thirty-three was a joke; right now ninety-three sounded about right. Cassidy turned the key, listened to the purr of the engine, and felt only slightly better. So much for banishing my demons. She should’ve stayed in bed.
“This place means nothing to me anymore.” The suffocating band of memories tightening around her chest, however, blatantly contradicted her words.
A fist hammered loudly on the bedroom door, wrenching Cassidy from sleep. She bolted upright in bed, startled and confused. It took her a moment to absorb the luxurious surroundings of 1920s decor. The weight pressed aga
inst her body was nothing more than a cozy goose down comforter protecting her from the cool, early summer breeze blowing softly through the window.
Her heart slowly ceased its erratic percussion as her mind slipped around the fact that she wasn’t in a pungent-scented, gnat-infested tent in Africa, and a hot shower was only a step away. Relief followed by a quick stab of guilt had Cassidy sinking beneath her covers in frustration. Another round of boxing ensued against the door, this time followed by a deep threatening voice demanding she exit her little cocoon of warmth and comfort. Cassidy stuck her tongue out at the intrusive noise, climbed out of bed, and yanked open the door.
“What!”
“Good morning to you, too. Have you conveniently forgotten our 8 a.m. briefing?” Jake pushed through the open doorway and strode into her room. “I’ll just wait here and escort you personally.”
“I can find my way.” She yawned and stretched, ignoring the flush that crept up his face as her tank top tightened against her skin. She blinked innocently and shrugged a shoulder, silently complimenting herself on her unplanned payback for his bare-chested display from yesterday.
“Sorry, Goldilocks,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t trust you. I’ve been informed that the minute you see what awaits you outside that window, you’ll be off and running with no instructions for the rest of us lowly creatures. I can’t work that way.”
“I’d never do that. Now move along and let me take a shower.”
“No time.”
“What?”
“It’s 5:45.”
Cassidy stared incredulously at his snarky smile. Double damn. She felt a sudden urge to punch his smug, arrogant smile right off his smartass biologist head. But he was right. If the morning managed to catch her eye, she’d have her backpack on and gear in place before anyone could rope her into the briefing.
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