Chapter 20
CHAPTER
TWENTY
Olive’s gaze snapped toward Rex.
Her boss exhaled, rubbing a hand over his jaw, then raised both palms slightly in admission. “He’s telling the truth. I brought him here.”
Olive stared at him, gaping. “You what?”
“I didn’t want to involve the rest of you,” Rex said, his voice even and nonplussed. “Michael is a witness. He needed protection.”
Jason’s tone sharpened. “Protection from who?”
“From people who’ve already killed to keep him quiet,” Rex said.
A heavy silence settled over the room.
Mitzi looked stricken, her eyes darting between Rex and Michael. “You brought him here? To our retreat? Without telling anyone?”
“I didn’t have another choice,” Rex said. “We were supposed to move him to a safe house after Christmas. But there was an attempt on his life a week ago, and his cover was blown.”
Tevin stood in the corner and shook his head. “To reiterate what Mitzi asked: So you brought him here? To our non-working retreat? The place where we were supposed to get away from everything?”
Rex met Olive’s gaze, steady and unflinching. “I thought no one would find him here.”
Olive’s heartbeat pounded in her ears. “But someone did. Is that why JJ was killed? Because someone was looking for this guy?”
Her words hung in the air like smoke.
No one answered.
Because somewhere deep inside, every person knew the truth.
JJ had died because of Michael.
For a long moment, no one spoke. The fire snapped and hissed, the only sound in the room. Snow pressed against the windows like a living thing, the wind a steady moan in the chimney.
Olive’s gaze moved from Michael—still standing, hands half-raised—to Rex, who looked like a man standing trial rather than leading his team.
Rex finally broke the silence. “I owed a friend a favor. A big one. He’s in federal law enforcement. When Michael’s cover was blown, there weren’t any safe houses available. My friend called me personally and asked if I could get him somewhere quiet until the storm passed.”
Mitzi crossed her arms, her tone sharp. “So you brought him here. To our retreat. The one where you told us all to take mandatory rest. The one where you practically ordered us to relax.”
Rex didn’t flinch. “I see the irony.”
“No.” Mitzi crossed her arms, her eyes narrow with anger. “You are the irony.”
Part of Olive couldn’t believe Mitzi was talking to their boss this way. The other part knew Rex deserved it.
The two of them obviously had a much more personal relationship than Olive did with Rex. Mitzi had been with Aegis for years.
A low murmur rippled around the group. Jason stood beside Olive, jaw tight, eyes on Michael.
Trick stepped forward from the back of the room, his usual grin gone. He sneezed into his elbow before he spoke. “So why exactly are you in hiding, Michael? What did you do that people want to kill you?”
Olive waited, holding her breath.
His response would provide some of the answers they’d been looking for.
Michael’s eyes flicked toward him, then down. “I wasn’t always in hiding. A few years ago, I was working in a university lab, trying to get funding for a cold-adaptive protein project. Something that could help researchers or rescue teams survive extreme temperatures.”
“And?” Mitzi prompted when he paused.
Michael swallowed hard before saying, “No one would touch it. It was too experimental. Too risky. Too expensive.”
Olive soaked in everything he said, mentally analyzing it.
He let out a shaky breath. “Then Winterlight approached me. They called themselves a humanitarian investment group and told me they wanted to fund innovation that would help save lives. They offered me a real lab, real equipment, real money. It felt like someone was finally taking my work seriously.”
A ripple of unease shuddered through Olive. Winterlight posing as saviors was bad enough. Winterlight posing as philanthropists? Worse.
Michael’s jaw tightened. “I thought I was working for the good guys. I thought I was building something that could protect people. But then I started noticing things—restricted files, encrypted reports, meetings I wasn’t allowed in.
When I finally cracked an access folder I wasn’t supposed to see . . .”
Olive waited with bated breath.
His voice dropped. “That’s when I realized Winterlight didn’t want my research for rescue missions. They wanted soldiers who could disappear into subzero environments. Assassins who could walk through a blizzard without leaving a heat trail.”
Olive leaned forward slightly, a knot tightening in her stomach. “Does this have something to do with Project Frostbite?”
Rex shot her a sharp look. “You know about that?”
She held his gaze, saying nothing. Her pulse ticked faster.
“Yes,” Michael finally said. “It has everything to do with Project Frostbite.”
Rex exhaled through his nose. “Fine. She deserves the truth.” He turned toward Olive.
“As you know, the Winterlight Consortium presents itself as a humanitarian investment group—clean energy, medical tech, arctic research. But underneath, they’re a front for organized crime.
Data trafficking. Weapons deals. Assassinations dressed up as accidents. ”
Olive’s chest tightened. The longer she worked these cases, the more she realized how many monsters hid behind philanthropic mission statements.
Rex jerked his chin toward Michael. “And they used him to build something no one else could.”
Michael rubbed his palms against his jeans.
“Project Frostbite was supposed to be a survival tool. A way for operatives to function in extreme cold—arctic missions, covert extractions, high-altitude operations. I designed the adaptive protein sequence—the part that keeps the body from shutting down. Without it, the entire enhancement collapses.”
A chill traveled down Olive’s spine. This wasn’t science fiction. This was weaponized biology.
Michael let out a bitter laugh. “Winterlight told me it was for humanitarian expeditions. I believed them—until I saw the other files.”
Rex nodded grimly. “Michael ran. That’s why he’s in hiding. And why Winterlight wants him back. They can’t finish Frostbite without him.”
Olive felt a sharp flicker of protectiveness. This man wasn’t just a target. He was the last firewall between Winterlight and a nightmare.
Michael’s voice cracked. “I didn’t wait for Winterlight to decide my fate. I took everything—research notes, encrypted backups—and went to the feds.”
“And?” Trick prompted.
Michael dragged a shaky hand through his hair. “They believed me. Or enough of what I told them to know Winterlight was a threat. They said if I testified, they’d protect me. But they weren’t sure who they could trust. They suspected someone inside might be compromised.”
Another cold prickle traveled down Olive’s spine. One mole could topple an entire operation.
“So they put me in a temporary safe house,” Michael continued. “It wasn’t official witness protection—just a holding pattern while they figured out how deep Winterlight’s reach went. I thought I’d be safe there.”
The haunted look in his eyes said how wrong he’d been.
“Last week, men showed up.” His voice thinned. “Winterlight found us. They killed the agents assigned to guard me. I barely made it out.”
The room seemed to shrink around them.
Olive had seen the pattern too many times—leaks, blood, silence, repeat.
Michael reached into his jacket and pulled out a battered business card. Rex’s. “One of the agents told me that if everything went sideways, I should call him. So I did. And here I am.”
A beat of heavy quiet fell, the reality settling over them like frost. Winterlight wasn’t just hunting him.
They needed him alive.
And they were closing in.
Nova pressed a hand to her heart. “This place might look like a Hallmark set, but it’s no Hallmark movie . . .”
Mitzi turned to Rex, her eyes flashing. “When were you going to tell us this?”
“Only when it became absolutely necessary.”
Mitzi shrugged, obviously not liking that answer.
“Did you kill JJ?” Trick asked.
“Kill someone?” Michael’s eyes widened, and he quickly shook his head. “No, I didn’t kill anyone. I’ve locked myself in that room since I got here. I knew better than to leave. My goal is to stay alive.”
A heavy silence settled again.
Olive studied Michael’s face. Sincerity stretched there, but so did something else—fear buried under exhaustion.
She believed most of what he’d said. The rest . . . she wasn’t sure.
The fire popped again, throwing sparks up the flue.
Olive’s stomach knotted.
JJ dead. Power line cut. Warren missing. A man hiding in a secret room. Project Frostbite.
She didn’t believe in coincidence. JJ’s death had to be connected with Michael being here. Most likely, so did Warren’s disappearance.
Jason glanced at Rex. “Did you tell anyone you were coming here? Was there a paper trail? GPS? Anything?”
“No,” Rex said. “I was careful and used burner phones. There are no digital records.”
“What about that mysterious trip you took to the store?” Olive asked. “The one where you came back empty-handed.”
He lifted his eyebrows. “I knew I made a mistake when you asked about that earlier. The truth is, I had to check in with my contact at the FBI. I went off-site to do so. I intended to buy something to keep up my cover story, but the roads got too bad.”
“If all of this is true, then how did someone find out Michael is here?” Olive’s mind whirled as she tried to put together the pieces.
Michael looked up, meeting her eyes. “I have no idea.”
Olive turned to Rex. “Why did you pick this location? How did you even know about the secret room?”
Rex glanced at Mara, and Olive’s muscles tightened. She remembered them whispering earlier.
What weren’t they saying?
Mara stepped forward. “The truth is that Warren is former CIA. We bought this place and added the room. Then we spread the word throughout our network, knowing how needed safe houses were.”
Olive’s mouth dropped open. “What?”
Rex nodded. “It’s true. I didn’t know Warren personally, but I’d heard about him. I booked this place because of his reputation. I had no idea I’d need the safe room.”
Was that what those whispered conversations had been about?
“And that’s why you’re not that worried about Warren?” Olive murmured. “You know he knows how to handle himself.”
Mara nodded. “Exactly—but that’s not to say I’m not a little worried.”
Olive remembered the staircase in the hidden room. “You’ve been bringing Michael food, haven’t you? There must be a secret door in your suite that leads to the hidden room. That’s how Michael was getting downstairs to use the bathroom when he needed to, isn’t it?”
Guilt flooded Mara’s face. “The entrance is hidden in our closet. It’s come in handy—not just in situations like this, but we’ve hidden others in danger. Women escaping abuse, witnesses who needed to hide before trials. We had the place revamped when we bought it.”
Clever, Olive mused.
The wind howled outside, rattling the glass panes.
At once, the warmth of the fire felt oppressive, like the air itself was closing in.
Things were suddenly making more sense.
But Olive still wasn’t sure who the killer was. Someone in this room?
Or was someone else hiding in this house?