Segal pointed at Thor with his fork. “He asked a lot of questions about you. He asked about Cobra and Dr. Park, too.”
“He was interrogating you?” Jones laughed. “Weren’t you supposed to be interrogating him?”
“You’d be surprised what people give away when they think they control the conversation.” Segal wiped his mouth on his napkin. “Vasily is dying to know what we took from the wreckage and why it was so important that we risked our lives for it. He’s not stupid enough to ask directly, of course, but that was the subtext.”
Jones looked confused by this. “Doesn’t he know already? Isn’t that why he was out there? If they had no clue what was on that satellite, why would they hack the satellite and bring it down? Why would they risk their lives to come after it? That makes no sense at all. Nah, man. He’s playing you.”
“Or maybe they truly don’t know.” Thor was just thinking aloud now. “Maybe they were tasked with retrieving it but weren’t told what it was.”
“That sounds like the Kremlin we all know and love,” Segal joked.
“You know who else asked a lot of questions about you, Viking?” Jones chuckled. “Dr. Park wanted to know if you were single, whether you had kids, where you lived between missions, what it’s like to work with you. She’s got a thing for you.”
Thor tried to ignore the part of him that liked this news. “You’re imagining things. She’s just going through a hard time right now.”
“Hard time or not, she likes you.”
Segal changed the subject. “Any word from Tower about when we fly out?”
Thor shared what Tower had told him. “Make yourselves at home because we could be here for a while. Worst-case scenario, we won’t be leaving till November.”
Segal narrowed his eyes. “You like that idea, don’t you?”
Jones took another bite of spaghetti. “There is something beautiful about it. I’ve never seen a sky so full of stars.”
They finished eating and carried their trays back to the dish pit.
“I’ll catch up with you both later.” Thor started toward the hallway.
“Where are you going?” Segal called after him.
“I want to check on Dr. Park and see how she’s doing.”
9
Samantha stood in the center of Patty’s room, tears filling her eyes. “How am I supposed to do this? How am I supposed to say goodbye to you?”
Patty had strung fairy lights around the room to brighten things up, her walls covered with images from space. The Horsehead Nebula. The Whirlpool Galaxy. The Milky Way. The Milky Way photo had a pin poked into it in the Earth’s approximate location with a tag that read, “You are here.”
Academic journals. A laptop. Cell phone and computer chargers. An unopened bottle of Tylenol Patty had just bought from the store to help with cramps. Lip balm. An empty bottle of wine beside the bed—perhaps Patty’s last bottle of wine.
Artifacts of a life.
“You should still be here, Patty.” Samantha drew in a breath, exhaled.
She’d brought a couple of empty cardboard boxes up from the LO Arch—the Logistics Arch. Most of this would go home to Patty’s family, but some would go to the shrine in the ice tunnels, while the rest ended up on the Skua table, where people swapped and scavenged gear. Patty would want that.
Samantha started on the drawers, tucking Patty’s panties and bras into a box and setting her boots, socks, and long underwear aside for Skua, along with the rest of her cold-weather gear. Next, she packed the contents of Patty’s small desk—pens, sticky notes, earbuds, lip balm.
There, in one of the drawers, she found it.
Patty’s journal.
Samantha ran her fingers over the leather cover with its engraving of the Copernican model of the solar system. Patty had kept a journal for as long as Samantha had known her, taking time every night to write in it before going to bed. During grad school, she sometimes read what she’d written to Samantha—limericks about annoying professors, thoughts about her work, accounts of the fun they’d had together. Patty had filled at least twenty journals, all of them placed neatly on her bookshelves in the apartment in Chicago.
Samantha sank to the floor, hugged the journal, unable to hold back her tears, a gaping hole in her chest.
“Samantha?”
Samantha gasped, found Thor standing in the doorway. She got to her feet, set the journal aside, wiped her tears away. “Sorry, I—”
“Hey, Come here.” He drew Samantha into his arms, held her. “It’s okay to cry. Patty was a good friend. Losing her hurts.”
Samantha relaxed into his embrace, some part of her desperate for the comfort he offered, his words bringing a fresh rush of tears. And for a time, they stood there, Samantha weeping, her cheek against his chest.
She drew back. “I got your shirt wet.”
He glanced down. “That’s the closest it’s come to being washed in a while.”
She laughed, reached for a tissue, wiped her eyes. “We do have a laundry room, you know. You get to do one load a week while you’re here.”
“I just came to see whether I could help.”
“You already have.” She glanced around them. “You could take down the fairy lights. You can probably reach them without standing on a chair.”
“On it.” He reached up and carefully removed the strands.
“I think I’ll put them with the rest of the Skua stuff.”
“Skua? Aren’t those birds?” The confusion on his face made her smile.
“We have a Skua table. People give stuff away, swap things, and leave things for the next people who arrive. We call it the Skua table because real, live skuas are such scavengers.”
Thor nodded as if he understood, his lips curving in a smile. “That’s clever. But you should keep the lights. You said she made your life brighter. These lights could be a symbol of that. I could put them up for you.”
Samantha stopped where she stood, touched to her core that he’d heard her, that he’d understood. “I … I hadn’t thought of that. Thank you. I like that idea.”
He set the lights aside and began taking down the photos. “What do you want to do with these pictures?”
“We should put one of them in her shrine and send the others to her family.”
A knock at the door.
Lance stuck his head in, his gaze shifting from Samantha to Thor. “You ask him to help but not me?”
She opened her mouth to answer, but Thor cut her off. “She didn’t ask. I came to check on her and volunteered.”
Lance walked in. “What are you doing with Patty’s stuff?”
“Most of it is going home to her family. They’re the rightful owners now. I’ll put some of it out on the Skua table. Do you want to pick something for her shrine?”
“Where’s her journal?” Lance glanced toward the desk. “I want that.”
Samantha reached for it, held it against her chest. “That belongs to her family.”
Lance tried to take it from Samantha. “I want to read what she wrote about me.”
“You can’t do that.” Samantha turned her body away from him, kept the journal beyond his reach. “Her private thoughts are her business, not yours. The fact that she’s gone doesn’t change that.”
“Oh, come on!” Lance reached for it again. “She didn’t keep anything from me.”
“But she didn’t let you read her journal, did she?” She saw the flare of irritation on his face and knew she was right.
“What gives you the right to act as her executor?”
Thor came up behind Samantha, his presence making Lance take a step back. “Samantha was Patty’s best friend. She’s known her longer than anyone else here. That gives her the right.”
“Patty and I were lovers. That has to count for something, even here on station. I feel like I’m being erased from her life.” Lance grabbed a small silver ring off Patty’s shelf—the ring with the horseshoe that she’d worn on her pinky fin
ger. “I’m taking this.”
Thor blocked Lance’s attempt to leave. “Samantha?”
“That’s okay. He can have it.”
Thor stepped aside, watched him go. “Is he always an asshole?”
“No. Just since Patty died.”
* * *
Thor watched as Samantha carefully arranged Patty’s belongings on the Skua table alongside other items people had given away—electric razors, gloves, socks, hats, earbuds, unopened toiletries.
Samantha stepped away from the table. “Now, she can still be a part of life down here, even if the people who end up with her things never knew her.”
“That’s a good way to think of it.”
Vasily and four of his friends walked by, probably on their way to the B1 Lounge, Vasily’s gaze fixing on Samantha.
He stopped. “Good to see you, Sam. I am sorry about Patty. Who would think that one so young would die?”
Samantha crossed her arms over her chest—a protective posture. “Thank you, Vasily.”
“You must join me sometime for a drink in her memory.” He held up the bottle of vodka in his left hand.
“I would like that.” Samantha watched them walk away. “I would never have imagined that he’d be involved in something like this. Vasily, a spy? We had so much fun with him and the others on station at McMurdo.”
“Most spies don’t seem like spies.”
Samantha looked up at him. “Have you met real spies?”
“Yes—a few.” Holly Andris and Gabriela Marquez, both Cobra employees, had once worked for the Central Intelligence Agency. Elizabeth Shields had been an Agency counterterrorism analyst. “If you met them, you would have no idea that they’d once worked for the CIA.”
“Wow.” Samantha gaped at him. “You’ve led a more interesting life than I have.”
That made Thor laugh. “I don’t know about that. Mapping distant galaxies, working at the South Pole—that seems pretty interesting to me.”
They walked back to Patty’s room, where two taped and labeled boxes waited to be moved into storage.
“I had planned to put these down in the LO Arch, but what if someone finds them? I don’t want Lance taking Patty’s journal.”
Thor wouldn’t put it past Lance to steal it. He’d already tried to grab it from Samantha’s arms twice. But Thor knew how to handle this. “I can keep them secure. I’m good at that, you know.”
Flirter du med hende? Are you flirting with her?
Maybe he was.
This afternoon when he’d held her, he’d meant only to comfort her. She was grieving, and she was more or less alone with fifty people she didn’t know well, people who, from what Thor could see, weren’t going out of their way to show her sympathy.
But then she’d rested her cheek against his chest, relaxing into him. Damn, it had felt good. She was soft in the right places and smelled sweet, her hair like silk beneath his hands. He hadn’t wanted it to end.
You’re an idiot, man.
Samantha was vulnerable. She was grieving. The last thing she needed was to get physical with a guy who’d be leaving as soon as Tower could land a plane.
She’s interested in you, too, and you know it.
Yes, but he didn’t have to act on that.
She smiled, light chasing away the grief in her eyes. “Security is your thing.”
“Exactly. We can take her belongings back to the States when we fly out and make sure her family gets them.”
“You would do that?” She seemed surprised.
“Of course.”
“That means so much to me. I’m sure her parents will appreciate it, too.”
They carried the boxes to Thor’s room, the motion-detector camera setting off the alarm on his phone. Thor set the boxes on his bed and canceled the alarm. Jones and Segal would see it was him and not come running.
“You’ve got video surveillance in here?” She stared up at the camera.
“Don’t share that fact with anyone, okay?”
“Right.”
Later, when Jones or Segal was there to watch his back, Thor would lock the boxes in the other room with the case of components. Lance wouldn’t find them there.
“What do you say we go put up the fairy lights in your room?” Thor was grasping now, trying to find reasons to stay near her.
“I’d like that.”
They went back upstairs to Samantha’s room, where Thor, under her direction, hung the lights along the ceiling line, fixing them in place with push pins. He had to climb onto her bed on his knees to reach that part of the wall.
He jumped to the floor. “Okay. Light them up.”
Samantha plugged them into the outlet behind her desk then hurried over to the door to switch off the lights. “I love it.”
The little LED lights weren’t bright, but they cast a cheery glow over the room, their light playing over the features of Samantha’s face.
Oh, he was tempted to kiss her, so tempted.
You’re out of your mind.
He hadn’t come here for that.
She looked into his eyes. “Thanks, Thor. Facing this would have been so much harder without your help. And thanks for keeping her things safe.”
“You’re welcome.” Because he couldn’t stop himself, he kissed her on the cheek.
But at the last second, she turned her head, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him right on the mouth.
Hell, yes.
It was a tentative kiss, little more than a peck on the lips. But then Thor took control, drawing her hard against him, attraction flaring into desire as he got a feel for her. The heat of her body against his. The timid touch of her tongue. Her sigh when his tongue returned the caress and his mouth claimed hers at last.
God, she was sweet.
Thor hadn’t planned this. He had no idea where it was going, but he didn’t care. Kissing her was—
“Isaksen, this is Jones.”
For helvede. Damn it.
Thor broke the kiss, looked into Samantha’s eyes. “We’re not finished.”
“Isaksen, you copy?”
He yanked his radio off his waistband. “Isaksen here.”
“Hardin wants to see you right away—both you and Dr. Park.”
* * *
Samantha walked beside Thor down to the office wing, her lips still tingling, excitement shivering through her. She’d done it. She’d surprised them both. She’d kissed him. She wasn’t usually that brave with men.
He hadn’t pushed her away. Instead, he’d kissed her back.
It had been as amazing as she’d hoped it would be, the kind of kiss she’d fantasized about but never experienced. He hadn’t rushed her, instead taking his time, his body hard against hers, his arms strong around her.
Now, he walked beside her, awareness stretching between them even though they weren’t touching, his words echoing through her mind.
We’re not finished.
God, she hoped not. She wasn’t sure why Steve wanted to see them, but she hoped she and Thor would pick up where they’d left off afterward.
Someone was practicing in the music room, chords of electric guitar drifting down the hallway. Up ahead, Ryan and a couple of his firefighter buddies left the B1 Lounge, probably heading to bed. It was getting late.
She followed Thor into Steve’s office, found Steve sitting in his office chair, arms crossed over his chest, his expression dark. He didn’t acknowledge them at first but sat, staring at nothing. He looked distressed.
When he said nothing, Samantha said his name. “Steve? Are you okay?”
“You wanted to see us?” Thor asked.
He looked more upset than Samantha had ever seen him, his jaw tight. “I just heard from Katherine Reyna. She’s the Special Deputy US Marshal on station at McMurdo. She had some news you’ll want to hear.”
Samantha’s thoughts jumped to the pilot who’d flown them to the crash site, but he’d made it safely back to McMurdo. It couldn’t be t
hat. The Russians, then?
“Patty’s body made it back to the US. Her family met her at the airport.”
Samantha’s heart hurt for them. “I can’t imagine how hard that was.”
“Yeah, well, it gets harder.”
Her stomach knotted.
What the hell did that mean?
Steve continued. “Her family didn’t want to wait for the coroner’s office and paid for an independent autopsy. The results came back a few hours ago. Patty didn’t die of natural causes. The medical examiner ruled it a homicide. Methanol poisoning.”
“She was … She was murdered?” The blood seemed to drain from Samantha’s head, her knees going weak, the room tilting on its axis.
Strong arms caught her. “Hardin, get up. Move!”
Thor settled her in Steve’s chair, knelt beside her. “Put your head between your knees. Just breathe, Samantha.”
He stroked her hair, his face close to hers. “In. Out. That’s good.”
Steve began to speak again, but Thor stopped him.
“Whatever you need to say can wait until she’s had a chance to recover.”
“Should we take her to medical?”
Samantha shook her head, slowly sat upright. “No. I’m okay.”
But she wasn’t. Not really. Someone had killed Patty. Someone had poisoned her, stolen her life. Her death hadn’t been a random tragedy. It had been a deliberate act.
Thor stood, a hand resting reassuringly on her shoulder.
“W-who could have done this? Who would want to hurt Patty?”
Steve shook his head. “I don’t know. But Reyna wants you to investigate, Isaksen. She can’t make it here to do it herself, so she wants you to be her eyes and ears. She wants to deputize you and your men.”
Thor doubted Cobra would consent to that. “We’re not detectives.”
“You guys are the closest thing to law enforcement we have on station.”
But Samantha’s mind raced, her thoughts scattered. “Methanol poisoning? Methanol has two carbon atoms. Ethanol has one. If I’d gotten to her sooner… If we’d known what it was…”
She lowered her head to her knees again, breathed, her body trembling.
Hard Line Page 9
