But she was more concerned with the here and now.
Lasky had requested she stay silent about everything for forty-eight hours while they looked into the matter further with the Alaska police and National Guard searching the area. They wanted to keep a lid on things so as not to create widespread panic and miscommunication of details.
Where did that leave her?
No way in hell could she just sit around on her hands waiting, hoping nothing bad would happen. She was a woman of action. Yes, she could email her brother a warning, but she couldn’t simply hope that email arrived in a timely fashion. How often had she seen a post come in three days after it had been sent? At least she knew email was working somewhat, since he’d sent word about the money transfer and a contact number for a flight home.
Her eyes darted nervously toward the one-way window. In the spooky bowels of a military intelligence unit, it felt as if they could hear her thoughts as well as watch her every move. Were there body language experts on the other side of that pane of glass, reading her nerves, sensing her need to run?
Was Wade there?
Everything had happened so quickly once he’d told her they needed to go to the base—ASAP. He’d scooped up her dog so carefully, so tenderly, her heart squeezed in her chest. She’d raced after him, half expecting police to tell them to stop, but apparently the injured pet had provided enough reason for people not to question their leaving.
On the drive over, Wade had called the base. From the one-sided conversation, she could tell he’d phoned his friend McCabe, the one who’d cracked jokes in the helicopter the day they’d been rescued. Wade had asked McCabe to arrange for the base veterinarian to meet them and attend to Chewie while he and Sunny spoke with OSI Special Agent Lasky.
She hadn’t wanted to leave her dog for even a second. But now she understood all eleven reasons why.
Her eyes shot back up to the screen, filled again with rows of small images, all the dead faces together. Right now, this was bigger than her brother. She couldn’t risk just trusting on faith that the deputy was a random serial killer who only targeted people from her community. This had become life and death important.
Not only could her community be in danger, but they wouldn’t even see the threat coming. They’d grown so comfortable in their utopia, thinking they could live alone and free of the rest of the world, peacefully close to nature. But they had been targeted like fish in a barrel and the local police had just let it happen.
She had such warm memories of growing up off-the-grid, but they were souring in a hurry now that she could see they’d never really been as isolated as she’d imagined.
The fairy tale was over. Going it alone hadn’t worked for her thus far.
And there was only one person she could even consider trusting to help with her single chance at warning the community—warning her sister—before everything blew up in their faces. She needed Wade to go with her. She’d never seen anyone navigate the harsh Aleutian terrain as skillfully as he did. She was smart enough to know she’d need help getting back in, and Wade was just the man to offer it.
Afterward, they could go their separate ways.
***
Staring at Sunny through the one-way mirror felt like an invasion of her privacy. But Wade couldn’t force himself to look away.
Special Agent Lasky—a guy with a shaved bald head and spooky, all knowing eyes—had gone to verify the names she’d supplied for each of the bodies, her skin turning paler with each person identified. People from her community. It had taken all his restraint not to burst through that door and cover her eyes against his shoulder, to shield her from the horror no one should have to see.
“I’m so screwed,” he muttered under his breath.
Liam McCabe leaned into view. “And not in a good way, I take it?”
The major tugged his uniform, obviously having rushed over on the weekend in a hurry. A host of dead bodies buried in ice would speed up any morning ritual. At least the slower weekend pace afforded them some privacy in the tiled hallway.
“Not funny.” Not even the best-delivered punch line could pierce his dark mood today. Too much danger was skating too close to Sunny. “What if her dog hadn’t taken off at that moment? What if that bastard Rand Smith had gotten his hands on Sunny while I was backing the truck out of the garage? Damn it”—he thumped the wall beside the mirror, the framed photo of the base commander rattling—“I should have seen something like this coming. I should have protected her.”>Now that the pressing need for action had passed, he wondered. Why had Chewie run toward this guy? Wade stared closer at the face and while something tugged at him, he couldn’t place where he’d seen the guy before.
Sunny’s hand fell to rest on his shoulder, jolting him. He clasped her hand before turning.
He stared up, into her horrified eyes. “Sunny?”
“The deputy who shot at us”—she pointed toward the lifeless body on the road—“on the mountain. It’s him.”
The deputy? What the hell? They were hundreds of miles away—and an airplane ride to boot—from where they’d seen him last on the mountain. Why would he be here, across the street from where Sunny just happened to be staying, unless he was tracking her?
Wade’s gaze zipped to the lifeless man who shouldn’t even be in this region at all, much less hanging out a few yards away from Sunny. “We need to get to base and talk to the OSI, now. Remember the thing I said you needed to know?”
He certainly couldn’t tell her about the newly discovered icy graveyard now, in public. Soon though. Because something bad was going on, something big and far-reaching, for this guy to come all the way here after them.
“Of course”—she clasped his hand—“you’re right. Let’s get Chewie and go.” She paused, then shot to her feet again. “Chewie? What’s the matter boy? Chewie!”
The rising panic in her voice alerted him a second before he looked back over his shoulder to find the massive dog limping toward Sunny with determined, loyal—painful steps.