Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
P ark rhythmically hissed out breaths, doing another set of pull-ups. He’d installed the bar on the wall in the living room. He might have left the military, but he still worked out every day and kept in shape.
Sweat slid down his neck. He’d already ditched his shirt.
He planned to work on some fencing that needed replacing today. He was still doing pull-ups, pushing through the burn, when he heard the crunch of tires on the gravel out front.
He lowered his feet to the floor and frowned. He definitely wasn’t expecting anyone. He barely knew anyone around here, and he was close to an hour out of Fairbanks.
Grabbing his towel, he wiped the sweat off his face and chest, then headed for the front door.
He opened it to see a silver Tahoe in front of his place. The driver’s door opened, and he watched a long, denim-clad leg appear.
The woman closed the door and glanced around, watchful and alert. He didn’t need to see the badge clipped to her belt to know that she was law-enforcement. A crisp, white shirt was tucked into the trim waistband of her dark jeans. She was tall, with honey-blonde hair pulled up in a ponytail.
Park felt a shot of… Nothing . He had no interest in a woman, no matter how attractive.
She headed toward the cabin and her gaze locked on him.
Her face was too angular to be called beautiful. Her features were too strong and bold, but she was eye-catching. He guessed she was around thirty. She walked with purpose, and kept her gaze on him, assessing. She wasn’t shy.
He should have pulled on his T-shirt, but he hadn’t been expecting guests. He knew his scars were hard to miss.
But as she approached, she eyed his chest and abs and he didn’t see any curiosity or disgust on her face.
“You lost?” he asked.
“No. I’m Senior Deputy Marshal Jenna Sheridan.”
“Well, Marshal, I’ve got no business with you, so get back in your SUV and go.”
She stopped at the bottom step to the front deck. “You always this friendly?”
“Yes.”
“I’m here to talk with you, Mr. Conroy.”
Damn, she knew who he was. That didn’t bode well. “I moved to Alaska so I wouldn’t have to talk to anyone.”
She took another step, and the breeze brought him her scent. Like her, it was bold, and made him think of heady, lush flowers.
Flowers? Jeez. What do you care how she smells, Conroy?
“We had a dangerous fugitive escape custody yesterday,” she said.
“Don’t care.”
She arched a brow. “You don’t care that a dangerous criminal is on the loose in your area?”
Park crossed his arms over his bare chest. “No.”
“He killed two marshals.” Her mouth flattened and something flashed in her eyes.
Hell . Park knew how it felt to lose friends that you worked side-by-side with.
“I’m sorry,” he said gruffly.
She took another step up. “I need your help to find him.”
“Hell, no.” He went to close the door. “You have an entire service of marshals, you don’t need me.”
She moved fast and jammed her boot in the door. “I do need you, Parker.”
Their gazes clashed. Her eyes were blue. They had a darker rim and were paler in the center. For a second, he felt the air charge. They stared at each other, part challenge, part…something else.
He uttered a curse. “This isn’t my circus.”
She shoved against the door and took one step inside. “I don’t believe you. I know you’d want to help stop this man.”
“You don’t know me.”
“I know you served your country. I know that you were a member of Ghost Ops for several years, and were damn good at it.”
Park scowled. That was classified information. “It seems you know a lot about me.” He didn’t like it. “Then you should also know that I’m retired. I just want to live in peace and quiet.”
“I know you’re a man with principles, Mr. Conroy. You won’t let a murderer and rapist roam the countryside.”
Shit . “Rapist?”
“Yes. He likes to hurt women then shoot them between the eyes. He’s well-trained. It’s a miracle we caught him the first time.” She looked away, her face tight.
He felt the frustration radiating off her. A part of him stirred.
No . He stomped on it. He was out. This wasn’t his problem. He didn’t want to get dragged back in.
“I can’t help you.”
She turned her head. Her blue eyes weren’t cold. There was heat in them. “You’re the only person who can help, Parker.”
He growled. “Why? Why me?”
“Because the fugitive we’re hunting is former Ghost Ops.”
The news was like a punch to his gut. “What?”
She straightened. “Vander Norcross recommended you. Said you’re the only person who could outthink this man and help me apprehend him.”
Shit. Hell. Fuck . Park felt a storm of emotions. Vander had been one of the best commanders Ghost Ops had ever had. One of the best Parker had ever served with. He respected the hell out of Vander.
But it was the thought of this woman, Jenna Sheridan, hunting this asshole down alone that left him most unsettled.
He sighed and pushed the door open. “Come in.”
Jenna sat at the scratched-up, wooden table, watching Parker Conroy making coffee.
Even without Vander telling her his past, she would’ve known that he had military training. The man emanated a dangerous vibe.
He was tall, lean, with black hair shaved short. He’d pulled a shirt on—unfortunately—covering the etched muscles that had been on full display earlier. The man was in top shape, with zero body fat.
The shirt also covered the scars she’d seen. They were on the right side of his torso and ran up his neck to his strong jaw. They’d looked like knife cuts and burn marks. She had no idea how he’d gotten them, but it had to have hurt like hell.
He turned and carried two mugs to the table. He shoved his chair out, the feet scraping on the floor. He sat across from her, but she felt his presence.
There were no smiles, or jokes, or fidgeting. Just a serious look on a face that was almost handsome. His mouth was a flat line and his eyes were brown. Although, that word didn’t do them justice—they were a mix of dark-brown and gold. Tiger’s eyes.
Once, when her father had taken her to the zoo when she was a kid, a tiger had come right up to the glass and stared at her. She’d seen its eyes, felt its intense, predatory stare. Parker Conroy had a lot in common with that tiger.
“Talk,” he said.
A man of few words. Okay, so he was hot, but grouchy as hell.
Jenna didn’t mind. She’d take grouchy over sleazy and insincere any day. She had to interact with federal agents and marshals like that daily. Men looking to climb the ladder by using charm and sleaze. Hell, she’d been dumb enough to date one.
She’d learned a long time ago that men only showed you what they wanted you to see. They kept their dark secrets locked up.
“The fugitive’s name is Kyle Olson,” she told him.
“Aw, hell.” Parker sat back in his chair.
“You’ve heard of him.”
“Yes. He’s bad news.”
“I know. I’m aware that he was released from Ghost Ops.”
Parker made a sound. “Booted out.”
“I don’t know the particulars. All I got was a bunch of redacted reports, and most of it is classified.”
Parker nodded. “The man liked killing, a little too much.”
“Were you on the same team?”
Parker shook his head. “No, but what interaction I did have with him, I didn’t like.”
“After he left the military, he laid low for a while.” She sipped her coffee. “He moved around a lot—Arizona, New Mexico, Texas. Then, he murdered a man outside Fort Worth. It appears they got into a fight in a bar. Olson waited outside, then beat the man to death.”
Parker tapped a finger on the table. “I’m not surprised.”
“It seems Olson got a taste for it. He wasn’t linked to other murders at first, but several investigations have since connected him to several other cases. Same MO. He meets a guy in a bar, they get aggressive and get into an argument, then Olson kills them.” She spun the mug around. “He likes to use his fists.”
Parker sipped his coffee and watched her.
“Then he escalated,” she said.
A muscle ticked in Parker’s jaw. “How?”
“His next victim was in a bar with his girlfriend. After an altercation, Olson followed them home. It appears he incapacitated the male, and made him watch while he raped the female, then killed them both. Five couples were murdered before he was identified as the perpetrator. He slipped up and left some blood at the last scene. Then he went on the run and ended up in Alaska.”
“Hell.” Parker frowned, then met her gaze. “I’m not up here because I’m on the run, by the way.”
She shot him a faint smile. “Vander vouched for you.”
“How do you know Vander?”
“We used Norcross Security to assist on a case in San Francisco once. And I did a seminar with his wife.”
Vander’s wife, Brynn, was a police detective in San Francisco. Jenna liked the woman a lot.
“How did Olson get free?” Parker asked.
“We’re not exactly sure. He was being transported in a small convoy. Two marshals had him in their vehicle, and they were escorted by two state troopers.”
Parker’s eyebrows rose. “That’s it? You knew what he was capable of and you had four guys on him.”
Jenna pulled a face. “It wasn’t my decision.” She paused. “It looks like he got free of his restraints, overpowered the marshals, and caused a car accident.” Anger churned inside her. “The troopers were injured, and he executed the marshals before they could even get out of their vehicle.” She clenched her jaw, thinking of Lopez and Calt. “Olson then took their weapons and left on foot.”
“So, he’s on the run in the wilderness.” Parker shook his head. “You’ll never find him.”
“I will.”
“Marshal Sheridan?—”
“It’s Jenna.”
He paused. “You think you know what Ghost Ops involves, but you don’t. Olson can fight, track, survive in the wilderness. If he attacks, you won’t see or hear him coming. Added to that, he is hugely motivated to not get caught. He won’t want to go to prison, and if he’s as addicted to killing as you’re saying, he won’t want to give that up.”
She leaned forward. “This is why I need you. You know how he thinks, you have the same training. You can help me find him.”
Parker shook his head.
“Please? We both know there’s a good chance he’ll hurt someone else.” She pulled a map out of her pocket, unfolded it, and slapped it on the table. “This is where he escaped his escort.” She pointed to a red X on the map. “It’s close to Fairbanks, but I don’t think he’ll head into town.”
“He won’t.”
“I’m guessing he’ll try to hide.” She met Parker’s gaze. “But I know his dark side. Killers like him can’t ignore the urge to take a life.”
“You know a lot about serial killers?”
Her stomach cramped. More than she’d ever wanted to know. “I do. He won’t be able to stop from killing again.”
A muscle ticked in Parker’s jaw.
“We have a rogue Ghost Ops soldier on the loose. A rogue soldier turned serial killer and rapist. I’m going to stop at nothing to bring him in and put him behind bars.”
“I believe you.”
She reached a hand across the table and touched his. “I need your help.”
At the touch, Parker yanked his hand back.
She stilled and watched his face. What was that about?
He stared at the map, not meeting her gaze. A groove formed between his eyebrows. “I can’t help you. I don’t want to get dragged into this.”
She watched him rub the scars on his neck, darkness churning in his amber-brown eyes.
Frustration bit at her. She knew Parker Conroy was the key to stopping Kyle Olson. She pulled out a business card and slid it across the table.
“I’m staying at the Frontier Inn, in Fairbanks. If you change your mind, call.” She rose.
“I won’t.”
He sounded sure, but Vander had told her that Parker Conroy was a good man with an unshakable sense of right and wrong. Clearly, he’d been through a lot, and she guessed that there were more scars that she couldn’t see.
Maybe he wasn’t the man Vander had known anymore.
She hoped that wasn’t true.
She’d left the bait, and she hoped that eventually, he’d take it.
Gah, that meant she’d have to wait. And she hated waiting, especially knowing that Olson was out there.
She headed for the front door.
“Wait, you forgot your map,” Parker said.
She looked over her shoulder. “Keep it.”
That brown gaze bored into her. She wondered what secrets a man like Parker Conroy had. What he kept hidden under that contained exterior of his.
She headed back to her vehicle, praying that he would cave on his decision not to help her.
The clock was ticking.