Chapter 17
17
Gil had always figured that he and Lachlan were about as different as twins could be. He’d been born first, half an hour before Lachlan. Family legend had it that he’d elbowed Lachlan aside and burst into the world yelling like a banshee, kicking and ready to scrap.
“Your brother had to think about it first,” their mom always said. “But when he finally arrived, his eyes were wide as saucers, as if everything he saw amazed him.”
As far as Gil could remember, he and Lachlan had never fought with each other. There was no point because Lachlan simply wasn’t a fighter. But Gil did plenty of fighting against anyone who wanted to pick on his brother. Lachlan was a dreamy kid who could spend hours on things like watching ants build an anthill during recess. He’d become so focused on it that he wouldn’t hear the bell signaling the start of classes.
All the teachers knew that Gil was his self-appointed minder. Gil was used to checking for Lachlan before every class and dragging him away from whatever beehive or ant colony he’d discovered. If Lachlan minded, he never said so. He trusted Gil completely, and would do anything his barely older brother told him.
Lachlan was just…different. He was a genius, for one thing. Once they’d reached college, Lachlan had whizzed through it in two years, then sailed on to graduate school. At that point, their paths had diverged, because four years of college was more than enough for Gil. He’d spent his time doing sports and learning languages, which were the only areas where he really shined.
But that was enough to catch the attention of military recruiters. He’d considered the Marine Corps simply because he wanted to travel and see the world. The Secret Service had appealed to him for the same reasons. Then he’d learned about the Diplomatic Security Service, and bingo. It played to his strengths and allowed him to travel the world.
He’d been posted to locations from Karachi to Bali, and preferred switching it up as much as they allowed. Meantime, Lachlan had settled in at the University of Minnesota, spending most summers in Firelight Ridge. Once Lachlan had entered the adult world of climate research, Gil’s “bodyguard” services hadn’t been needed as much. One year he’d had to scare off a research assistant who was stealing Lachlan’s data. More recently, he’d suspected that a woman who was flirting with Lachlan was actually working for the Chinese government. He’d hated having to break that news to Lachlan, but, as always, his brother had accepted the warning without resentment.
He and Lachlan never went more than six months without seeing each other, and when they did, it always felt as if they’d never been apart, as if they could just pick up the same conversation they’d been having the last time they saw each other. His brother was the most content and peaceful person Gil knew, happiest when he was absorbed in his work, always kind, always supportive, the water to Gil’s fire, the calm to Gil’s storm, surely several levels of human evolution beyond Gil. He took most things in stride and saw himself as an observer of events rather than a participant.
So for Lachlan to text “911” meant that something very bad had happened.
Why hadn’t he texted more information? Because he couldn’t?
Gil called him right away, swearing when he reached Lachlan’s voice mail.
“Are you okay?” Ani asked, touching his arm.
“My brother sent me a nine-one-one text. I don’t know what it means, except that something’s wrong.” He couldn’t keep the fear out of his voice.
“Is he in Firelight Ridge?”
“Yeah, he was checking his permafrost readings when I left for Smoky Lake. He should be back home by now. But he’s not answering. Service is spotty there.”
They reached the front entrance of the Wagon Wheel Inn, where a cab was just dropping off a family of sunburned tourists.
“I’m tempted to grab that cab and head back to the airport,” he told Ani in a low voice.
“Oh hell no, you don’t.” Sergeant Thomson appeared at his elbow. “You’re checking into that hotel like a good boy.”
It would take the entire Fort Wainwright contingent to keep him away from his brother if Lachlan needed him. He was about to inform Thomson that since he wasn’t under arrest and all of this was voluntary, she could stick it where the sun don’t shine. But Ani grabbed his arm before he could explode.
“Why don’t I call Molly and Charlie and Lila. One of them can check on your brother. That’ll be a lot faster. Nick could do it too. He’s an investigator and if something’s wrong, I’m sure he’ll know what to do.”
Still locked in his stare down with Sergeant Thomson, he made himself relax. “We can start with that. But if I need to get to Firelight Ridge, I will do so. Understand that.”
The sergeant gave a nod that held equal parts reluctance and respect. “You’re going to stay a pain in my ass, aren’t you?”
He shot her a reluctant grin. “There’s a good chance.”
The Wagon Wheel was so booked that the only room still open was on the top floor, a suite with two bedrooms, a “conference” room, and a kitchenette. The voucher didn’t quite cover it, but Gil and Ani left that problem in Sergeant Thomson’s hands.
“She might as well use that military air of authority for good,” Gil murmured to Ani as they rode the elevator up to their suite.
But Ani didn’t smile. She leaned against the wall of the elevator looking worried. Worried, exhausted, and at the end of her rope.
The elevator door opened, and before she could protest, he swooped her into his arms and carried her down the hall to their suite.
Blame it on Lachlan, he thought. Once a protector, always a protector.