Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Rowan stared at the woman as she took a step inside, more cold air rustling the papers taped to the whiteboard.
Special Agent Avery Kaine. Dressed in jeans, a sweater with boots and a jacket, she didn’t look the part of a federal agent.
Even her mass of dirty-blonde hair wasn’t pulled back into a ponytail like it had been when she’d arrived in the park, badge hooked around a belt loop, her service weapon holstered under her left arm.
Today, her hair brushed her shoulders, then draped down her back, tight waves softening her features.
She took another step, glanced at Nick before shaking her head. “Why am I not surprised you’re in Raven’s Cliff? Because why wouldn’t you be in some fog-cloaked blip on the Oregon coast at the same time I’m working a case?”
Nick groaned, sat a bit straighter in the chair. “If you’re here to shoot me on Sloane’s behalf, just do it.”
Avery laughed. “And deprive her the pleasure of watching you bleed out in real time? Unlike you, I’m her friend.”
Nick glared at Greer. “You could have told me Kaine had been assigned to the case when Page called me, yesterday.”
Greer hitched out one hip. “You’d been shot.
Even I didn’t think you’d be fool enough to jump on a plane several hours later.
Besides, you’ve never actually worked with Avery, and it’s Rowan’s case.
I didn’t know Sloane had a hit out on you, though, I’m not surprised.
” She glanced at Avery over her shoulder.
“And people claim I don’t play nicely with others. ”
Nick hissed as he pushed out a breath though clenched teeth. “Maybe if Rowan and Page managed to stay out of trouble for one damn night, I’d still be holed up in my apartment.”
Rowan huffed, stepped between everyone as she pointed at Nick. “You’re supposed to be resting, healing, not popping a blood clot.” She rolled her shoulders. “Obviously, you know Avery.”
Avery grinned. “More that we have a mutual friend, Sloane Hart. But yeah, everyone knows Nick.” She crossed her arms. “Curious why you’re here, though, Colter. Unless this case took a turn I’m unaware of?”
Nick chuckled, grimaced. “Rowan? Bodie? Do you want to tell Avery about your recon-only mission last night?”
Avery’s mouth quirked. “What mission?”
Rowan leaned over Nick. “Next time, you’ll feel every inch of the antibiotic shot.” She straightened. “Bodie managed to crack the encryption on the body cam I mentioned yesterday. We got a location from some of the background images and took a look until the situation turned dynamic.”
“How dynamic?”
“No one died.”
“Not exactly a benchmark.” Avery raked her fingers through her hair. “Did it pay off?”
Rowan froze. She hadn’t discussed her father’s case with Avery, yet.
Hadn’t wanted to start their joint case off with the other woman questioning her sanity.
Which looked even more uncertain given the recent events.
“There’s been a significant development, though, it sounds as if Nick’s found something, too. ”
“Oh, no.” Nick stood, batting away Rowan’s hand when she grabbed his waist in the hopes of keeping him on his feet.
“First, I want to see every damn thing you collected — the files, the videos, the photos. I don’t care how insignificant you think it is, I want it spread out on one of Greer’s whiteboards.
Then, I’ll tell you why I dragged my broken ass halfway across the country. ”
Avery shook her head. “I see why Sloane’s torn between wanting to kill you and wanting to kiss you. This whole wounded soldier thing you’ve got going on is pretty hot. Discounting the fact you’re a complete ass.”
Nick rolled his eyes, paused. “Wait, she wants to what?”
Avery focused on Rowan. “Are we talking here or…”
Rowan glanced at Bodie, reading his answer by the way he slid his gaze to the board, then the door. “Might be best if we took this over to Bodie’s office, so we’re there when he cracks the rest of the hard drive.” She crossed her arms. “Assuming Nick’s not going to pass out on the ride over.”
Nick glared at them. “Not dead, yet, despite your efforts.” He grabbed his jacket, took a breath, then pushed past them to the door. Dalton caught him, again, before he tripped against the wall, likely reopened his wound.
Avery sighed. “See? Ass. I’ll follow.”
Dalton half-carried Nick out to Bodie’s truck, helping him slid into the passenger seat as Buck started the engine. The rest of them piled into other vehicles, covered the short drive over to Bodie’s.
Bodie gripped her arm before jumping out. “Are you going to be okay viewing those videos for the first time with everyone watching considering your father’s trial is likely part of it?”
Rowan swallowed, tried not to gag. “Honestly? I don’t know, but I’ll try.”
He nodded, looked as if he wanted to argue, then slipped out, grabbed extra chairs after ushering everyone inside.
Nick made it all the way to the small sofa before collapsing, cursing Dalton when the man bodily shuffled him onto the cushions.
Dalton took the seat beside him, openly daring Nick to argue, then nodded at Bodie.
Bodie went over the files on the hard drive, handed everything off to Rowan as she worked through the paper copies, outlining how they tied in with the other cases she’d been investigating on her own until Bodie’s computer beeped.
He tapped some keys, met her stare. “Algorithm’s done.”
She closed her eyes for a moment, pushed all the pain and fear down until she’d buried it under years of uncertainty, then nodded. “Play the first video.”
“Are you sure? No one would judge you if you wanted to sit this part out. I can give you a rundown after.”
Guilt clawed at her throat, but she talked around it. “It took me two years to get this far. Whatever’s on there is because of that, and I need to know. To see what I left him to, so play it.”
“This isn’t your…” Bodie’s voice trailed off before he sighed, hit play.
The video began like the others with a blast of static, black lines cutting across the screen until an image took shape.
Hospital room.
An IV bag hung in the background, a single window brightening the right side of the feed. Alister restrained on a bed as someone pushed some of that eerie red liquid from the freezer into the port. Monitors provided a steady backdrop, his occasional cries cutting through.
She wrapped her arms around her waist as the view changed to a camera positioned above the bed, highlighting his face twisted in anger and rage before slowly fading until he stared blankly into space. No response when some bastard in scrubs snapped his fingers an inch from her father’s face.
Questions followed.
What sounded like the immediate past. How he’d found their trail. Who he’d told. If she knew about them.
His eyes focused at the mention of her name, that slight shift the only indication he recognized anything before he faded again, gaze fixed.
The image blacked out, cutting back in with him sitting in a wheelchair, silhouette outlined by the setting sun. She couldn’t tell if it was the same room, but she’d bet her ass it was the same hospital.
The same background, the same frame. Maybe a new ward but definitely the same location.
One of the doctors started talking — running through her dad’s vitals, how he hadn’t spoken since the last round of treatments.
That, by all accounts, the erasure had been a success.
The camera panned over to the man talking, caught a glimpse of him in profile, then shifted back, her father still staring out the window.
She tuned out after that, fixated on the way he sat there, frozen. No hint of the man who’d stormed enemy compounds, held off mercenaries in order to save a village clinic.
“Rowan.”
She blinked when Bodie’s voice sounded beside her, his hand gently squeezing her shoulder. She turned, swallowed, aware the room had fallen silent. “Guess we know which one’s the toxin.”
“What matters is that the time stamp is only a couple months old.”
“Great. I finally catch a break, and it’s too little, too late.”
“We don’t know—”
“Look at him.” She surged to her feet, pointed to the screen, his image still frozen in that chair. “There’s nothing left to save.”
Dalton stood, crossed the floor. “You don’t know that.” He stopped her from interrupting. “If that toxin severed his memories or his neural connections, that other drug might restore them. Either way, we’ll bring him home. Worry about the future after he’s safe.”
Crossing the room, Rowan swiped at a few errant tears. “We have to go back. I’ll get a warrant, an assault team. Whatever it takes…”
Bodie gripped her wrist. “He’s not there.”
“But they know where he is, and I can’t—”
“It’s too late.” Nick pushed to his feet, braced most of his weight against Dalton when he stood, caught Nick before he tumbled back on his ass. “We’re too late.”
Rowan frowned. “What do you mean? We were just there—”
“They’re gone.” Nick pulled out his phone, tapped the screen a few times before a photo sprang up on the monitor.
“When I heard about the raid — thought you jackasses had gone off and gotten yourselves killed — I had Sloane pull a few strings, get some images of the facility this morning, and that…” He pointed to the image.
“Is what she sent me as soon as I landed. They bugged out.”
Rowan stared at the satellite photo, several black SUVs heading away. “Oh, god. Did I…” She inhaled but nothing made it past the lump in her throat. “Did I blow our one chance? Did I just kill my dad?”
“Whoa, easy, sweetheart.” Bodie moved in close, rubbed a hand up and down her back.
“Just breathe. He wasn’t there. That video’s from a fully functioning hospital.
The cannery was nothing more than a storage depot.
Somewhere for them to harvest the fungus — keep everything together for this kind of scenario.
No reason to believe anything’s changed. ”