Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
O n the way out the door, she grabbed her coziest long cardigan from the hall closet, replaying their conversation in her mind. Dissecting it from every angle as she climbed the wet wooden staircase that wound through the forested hillside up the steep bank.
Why did he want to get to know her after he’d won the battle? Pity? His ego couldn’t stand someone disliking him?
By the time she reached the top, her heart was pumping hard, thighs burning from the climb.
The cedar-constructed research station sat perched near the cliff edge less than a hundred yards away.
She tucked her cozy cardigan around her and hurried through the light rain, determined to put Slater out of her mind.
Allistair looked up from where he was crouched next to a large box on the floor when she entered, excitement all over his face. “Hey, found a present waiting on the deck when I got here.”
“What is it?” She moved toward him, curious.
“I’m guessing it’s…” He cut through the top seam with a box cutter, pulled the flaps open. A big grin lit up his face. “Yep! Hell yeah, look at this thing.”
Xanthe bent down to peer into the box. It was a brand new drone. A big one, and it looked damned expensive.
“What? They said the request was denied.” The powers that be had made it crystal clear in the email response they’d sent her weeks ago.
Allistair didn’t answer, too busy examining the components. He let out a low whistle as he skimmed the manual. “Whoa, this baby’s freaking loaded.”
It was also huge. At least three times the size of their old one.
Excitement rippled through her, the first bit of happiness she’d felt all day. Now they could monitor Onyx and the rest of K Pod more closely along with the others, and maybe even Nootka.
Out of curiosity, she checked the label on the side of the box. There was no name in the sender field. It had been shipped directly from the manufacturer. “Is there an invoice in there?” The curiosity was killing her.
Allistair rummaged around in the box. “Here.”
She took it from him. Frowned. “There’s no purchaser information.”
“Just be happy they wound up approving your request and sent us this. Oh my God, it even has infrared imaging.”
“It does? Wow.” They could fly it at night. She couldn’t believe they’d rejected her request and then approved a new drone this expensive without notifying her.
“Uh, guys?”
They both turned to look at their colleague Samantha, the youngest member of their team. She was seated at her computer fifteen feet away, her red hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her area of expertise focused on analysis of pollution in the island’s streams, rivers, and surrounding ocean.
It was a key reason for the decline in Chinook stocks, and directly impacted the orcas, so her work was integral to their research. She was also hard core when it came to their mission and protecting the environment, edging toward militant. Xanthe loved seeing that kind of passion in her team.
“I’m just going through the security feed from last night. You both need to see this.”
Xanthe and Allistair stood and hurried over to look. They’d started reviewing their video feeds each morning daily since a local militia had stashed ammo on their property back in August. “What is it?” she asked.
Rather than answer, Samantha hit play and leaned back to make room for them to see.
The camera mounted on a tall cedar close to the station showed the empty parking lot at just after six that morning. Seconds later, headlights appeared around the bend in the long dirt road leading toward it. A car came into view.
A sleek black Audi.
Xanthe stared in disbelief as it parked by the front steps. Two seconds later, Slater got out. He went to his trunk and carried the big box up onto the deck then immediately went back to his car and drove off.
“Whoa,” Allistair breathed, his gaze slicing to her. “That was nice of him.”
Yeah, she thought in shock. It was.
He purposely hadn’t mentioned a thing about it on the phone. Had made sure his name wasn’t on the label or invoice. And he had no way of knowing they reviewed the footage from that more remote camera each day.
It was as if he didn’t want them to know it was from him at all. And that wasn’t what she’d come to expect from a man with his money and ego.
“Ah, dammit,” she whispered, now feeling a teensy bit bad about their phone conversation.
He wasn’t wrong about what he’d said. She had made up her mind to dislike him on principal without giving him a chance.
That wasn’t fair. It was biased. And as a scientist, she knew all too well how bias negatively impacted findings.
Shit. In the interest of academic fairness, she could sit through a lunch with him. She would get a free meal out of it if nothing else.
“What?” Allistair asked her.
“Nothing. What time’s my last interview?” She pulled out her phone to check her calendar.
“Eleven, you said,” Samantha answered. “Why?”
She sighed. She could take the easy way out and text him. Even call him.
Or she could be a mature, accountable adult and go thank him in person.
“Because I’m gonna need to clear a few hours from my schedule this afternoon.”