Sergeant's Christmas Siege

by Megan Crane

  “It’s hard to ignore that they went back to the scene of the crime,” Templeton said.

  Kate would have said that she liked teamwork, in a general sense. She considered herself a part of the Trooper family. She’d enjoyed working with the partners she’d been paired with at different points in her career. Templeton was another assigned partner, nothing more, and the kind of brainstorming that he and his Alaska Force buddies liked to do in the lodge every morning was a perfectly valid way of working through problems with a case.

  But it felt a lot like more of that uncomfortable intimacy when she turned a little in her seat, in the cab of yet another SUV hemmed in on all sides by the Alaskan night, and agreed with him.

  “Something about it doesn’t sit right. And that’s before I even get eyes on the situation. My father’s compound wasn’t the sort of place to inspire nostalgia.”

  Templeton nodded. “The other thing that jumps out at me is that cousins don’t normally set up house together.”

  “Insert Appalachian joke here,” Kate said dryly.

  Templeton’s laugh filled the vehicle. And Kate would have to be truly dead inside not to feel a little warmer because of it. But she tried to deny that, too.

  “My inclination is to wait until tomorrow,” Templeton said after a moment, traces of that laughter like an undercurrent in his voice. “My thinking is that it takes longer to get anywhere in the snow, so that puts us in later tonight. And that’s if we don’t get worse weather on the way or spin out on the ice somewhere. Then we have to do a little basic recon, because I’m not walking into a potential Samuel Lee Holiday situation in the dark. I think it would be a lot easier to do it in whatever kind of weak-­ass daylight we get tomorrow.” He made a low noise, as if he was mulling it over. “Then again, could be your cousin Will is on the phone right now trying to ingratiate himself by telling them we’re coming. Maybe it would make more sense not to give them extra time to prepare for our arrival.”

  Kate frowned out the window, not quite seeing the streets of Fairbanks before her. “I honestly don’t know which way he’ll go. But Will could have called the minute we left. We have to assume they’ve already been alerted.”

  “If your gut feeling says that we need to go tonight, let’s go tonight.”

  Kate waited, but that was it. That was all he said. And there was nothing the least bit passive-­aggressive or challenging in his tone. Of all the things she was worried about when it came to Templeton—­or anyone in Alaska Force, for that matter—­it wasn’t that garden variety I know more than you because I’m a man nonsense that she’d been drenched in as a child and had learned how to handle when she’d started in law enforcement.

  “You’re not really a big mansplainer, are you?” she asked.

  Templeton threw another look at her, something glinting in his dark gaze. “Was that a compliment? I don’t know if my heart can take it. You might need to call the paramedics.”

  “I’m not sure it’s a compliment to have someone tell you that you’ve achieved the bare minimum of common decency. But sure, take it as one if you want.”

  “I’m impatient with people who should know their stuff but don’t.” Templeton’s voice was even. His gaze was on the road. “That doesn’t apply to you.”

  “That sounds like straight-­up flattery.” But she couldn’t deny that it warmed that same once-­hollow place inside her, even so.

  “No, ma’am. If I was talking about sex, sure. I might pretty it up. But when it comes to the job? The only thing I’m interested in is competency. Believe that, if nothing else.”

  And the crazy part was, she did believe him. Or maybe, a more caustic voice inside her butted in, it’s more accurate to say that you want to believe him. Because you want this man to think of you as competent. If not as highly skilled as he is—­because who could be?—­then at least pretty damn good at your own job.

  “I don’t know if what I have is a gut feeling,” Kate said after a moment, because his flattery deserved an honest response. Or as honest as she was capable of being, anyway. “Or if I just want to get this part over with.”

  “Which part? The investigation?”

  “The part that involves anyone I’m related to. I didn’t think I was signing on for this twisted little inversion of a family Christmas, but I’d like it to end. As soon as possible.”

  “Roger that.” Templeton nodded toward the back of the SUV. “Aside from what I have in my go bag and what I assume you have in yours, we also have what amounts to a minor arsenal in the back. It’s not a full SWAT team situation, but we could have ourselves a little party.”

  Kate smiled. “I do like a party.”

  But it was already after five p.m. The temperature was plummeting, the snow was falling, and Kate had no idea what they would be walking into in Nenana. Her cousins might very well be nostalgic for the compound, as impossible as that seemed to her. Human beings were complicated, as she knew all too well. They spent significant parts of their lives yearning for things that they not only couldn’t have but that were actively bad for them.

  Kate had always claimed that she didn’t understand that sort of self-­destructive urge. But that was before she’d met Templeton.

  She rubbed a hand over her face.

  “I hate waiting. But I think it might be the better move.” She cleared her throat. “I’m happy to put us up in hotel rooms and then try again tomorrow.”

  There was a silence that was certainly not electric in any way. Kate told herself she was overtired from her research all-­nighters and clearly imagining things.

  “First of all,” Templeton said, his voice as dark as the night, “you don’t need to foot the bill.”

  “This is my family we’re talking about.”

  “Trooper. Get your head back in the game. Your family might or might not be the jackholes responsible for blown-­up boats and dead men. But either way, this blackmail attempt is aimed straight at Alaska Force. And we take defending ourselves pretty seriously.”

  “I would feel better if I was contributing.”

  “Second,” Templeton continued, as if she hadn’t said that last part, “we have a place in Fairbanks. No hotels required.”

  Kate wanted to argue. But she was afraid that launching into an impassioned argument about why she needed the relative protection of a hotel room, rather than the perceived intimacy of some house, would do nothing but show Templeton exactly how much she was freaking out at the prospect of being alone with him again in a place where there were beds. And every instinct and gut feeling she had, all of which were silent on the issue of her cousins, bleated out exactly how bad an idea it would be to let him know such a thing.

  Besides, she was pretty sure he already knew.

  So she stayed silent, as if she didn’t care where they stayed. She said nothing as he drove them across the city, then turned down a heavily snow-­packed lane that wound through the trees and stopped in front of a dark little house, locked up tight.

  “It’s going to be cold at first,” Templeton said as he bumped them over the snow that covered the clearing. “But it’ll warm up quick.”

  Kate bit her tongue rather than throw something back at him, reminding him that she knew all about cold houses and woodstoves here in Alaska. More than he would know, anyway, with his history in the deep, warm South, even if he seemed to know his way around the block heater and timer that he connected to the SUV.

  Keep it professional, she told herself.

  Because clearly that was going to be the only thing that saved her. If anything could save her, that was. And assuming that particular genie wasn’t already out of its bottle, as she was so desperately trying to convince herself.

  Templeton opened the front door of the cabin by keying a code into a heavy-­duty padlock. He led Kate inside, flipping on the lights as he went. She could see a living room, a
small study, and a kitchen at the back to make up the main floor. And to her surprise, it was a cheerful, modest sort of house that looked as if a family might walk in any second. Not a black ops team.

  After kicking off her boots and hanging up her jacket, Kate drifted over toward the pictures all along the mantel, which looked as if it should sit over a fireplace but framed a TV instead.

  And was shocked when she saw a smiling, much younger version of a man who could only be Isaac Gentry.

  “This is Isaac’s sister’s house,” Templeton told her, once the woodstove was lit and roaring away. He rubbed his hands together as he came to stand beside Kate. He squinted at the picture of Isaac and the woman who was presumably his sister, grinning at the camera with packs on their backs and, behind them, one of Alaska’s blue glaciers. Kate could almost hear the ice crackling.

  “Isaac has a sister?”

  Templeton laughed. “Doesn’t seem possible, right? But yes. He’s not only mortal, he has a family and everything.”

  “Is she Wonder Woman? To continue the family theme.”

  Templeton laughed again, sounding even more delighted than before, which Kate assured herself didn’t affect her in the least.

  “That depends on your definition. Amy raised three decent kids, which isn’t easy. Now she and her husband are exploring the country in their fifth wheel. But Isaac maintains the house.”

  “How many houses does Isaac have?”

  “As many as he needs.” Templeton grinned. “He likes to make sure there’s always a safe place to stay.”

  Kate turned from the mantel. She squared her shoulders as she looked at Templeton, almost unconsciously. Almost.

  “Why don’t you like hotels?”

  “I like hotels fine. But I can’t always control the access points. And, funny thing about me, I like to know who’s coming and going. Wherever I am.”

  Kate didn’t know how he made that sound dirty. The way he made everything sound dirty. She only nodded and pretended not to hear it. His gaze got that golden gleam that made her feel alarmingly melty inside, but all he did was lead her upstairs and show her which room was hers for the night. They both stood in the narrow hall looking at the full bed beneath the slanted ceiling. Kate felt much too warm. But Templeton didn’t make any suggestive comments.

  Once again forcing Kate to question why she felt more disappointed than she did relieved.

  She tossed her bag on the end of the bed, sat down next to it, and made a few phone calls to her contacts down in Anchorage, to see if they could help her figure out where exactly in Nenana Liberty and Russ were living. To start a little basic recon before they drove down there tomorrow morning.

  When she went back downstairs, Templeton was heating up canned soup on the stove. Kate accepted the bowl he offered her and absolutely did not think about the domesticity of it all. Or how much it reminded her of that cozy scene at Griffin and Mariah’s house she’d spied through a window in Grizzly Harbor.

  It was amazing how far away that seemed to her now.

  Kate put her spoon down and cleared her throat. “A friend of mine contacted the Trooper station in Nenana and asked after my cousins. In a roundabout way. And the word is they’re living about ten minutes out in what the trooper on duty called ‘a group situation,’ whatever that means.”

  She rolled her eyes, because she knew what she thought that meant. It screamed cult to her. Manifestos, a marked interest in taking down the current government, and her father’s fingerprints all over everything. But maybe that was her baggage. A girl only had to grow up in one cult and she saw them everywhere.

  “The house isn’t entirely off the grid, they said. But you know that could go either way.”

  Wholly off the grid could mean trigger-­happy and a difficult time raising any backup should that become necessary, like the raid on her father’s compound. But on the grid could mean access to more sophisticated expressions of trigger-­happiness, rendering any backup moot. There was no way of knowing what they would be walking into.

  “Do you have a specific location?” Templeton asked.

  Kate took out her phone and pulled up a map. That inspired Templeton to go and get his tablet, and they spent a largely congenial hour or two, talking through scenarios and generally marinating in that professionalism that Kate was so sure she craved.

  And when there was a lull in the conversation, and it seemed to her that they’d covered all possible bases, she shot to her feet and made a show of checking her watch.

  She assiduously avoided reacting to that knowing look in Templeton’s dark gaze as he sat there across the table in the cheerful little kitchen, with his long legs thrust out before him and his hands piled on the back of his head. Like he was on a beach somewhere, taking in the sun.

  “I’m glad we decided to do this tomorrow,” she said, oozing professionalism from every pore. “It will give me a chance to catch up on some sleep.”

  “Good idea, Trooper,” he rumbled at her. “Better make sure you’re good and rested.”

  Unsurprisingly, she didn’t think about her family members or the life cycle of a cult when he said things like that. She thought about being spread out on a bed before him. Any bed. The one upstairs, for example. She thought about lifting her hips for closer contact to that wicked mouth of his. She thought about that wild, marvelous shattering and all the dark intent on his beautiful face when she’d finally managed to open her eyes again.

  And her thoughts must have been written all over her face, because the corner of his dangerous mouth crooked up in what she was terribly afraid was invitation.

  Kate smiled coolly. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  With regal dismissiveness, if she did say so herself.

  She made herself walk sedately from the room. She climbed the stairs at the same unhurried pace, as if her heart weren’t lodged somewhere in her throat and her palms weren’t damp with the desire to touch him again.

  Everywhere, this time.

  Then she locked herself up tight in her bedroom, because she was Trooper Kate Holiday, and she didn’t do desire. She never had. And this was no time to start.

  Fifteen

  When Kate came downstairs the next morning, Templeton was already awake and dressed in running clothes, and she had to lecture herself, sternly, that Templeton was just a man. He didn’t know he’d starred in every one of her very dirty dreams last night. He didn’t know anything that went on inside her unless she told him.

  He nodded toward the coffee machine, and she felt nearly giddy with relief as she poured herself a mug, blew on it, then took a big gulp. It was very strong, full of flavor, and she thought that another woman—­one with significantly less of a sense of self-­preservation—­might fall in love with the man for that coffee alone. Then and there.

  Kate was obviously not that foolish.

  Though her second swig of the coffee he’d made certainly tempted her to change her mind.

  “It’s hours to daylight yet,” Templeton said, his gaze out the back window, where a security light showed the pristine snow piled high in what Kate assumed was a yard. So high it met the pine branches that were weighed down with even more snow. “Are you up for another run?”

  He didn’t smirk, and his gaze wasn’t any more knowing than usual, so it seemed like a straightforward question. But it felt anything but straightforward to Kate.

  She wasn’t one for group activities. She never had been. Kate had run with other people during her training, of course. There’d been a lot of that when she was a recruit at the academy in Sitka. But the primary reason she liked to run was because it was something she could do alone. And because now and again, it made her feel connected to the world.

  She could remember all too well running the stairs with Templeton that morning in Grizzly Harbor. He’d appeared out of nowhere. He’d challenged her.
Then chased her.

  That was how she chose to remember it, anyway.

  Her body seemed to have a whole different set of memories, and she scowled down at her coffee mug.

  “It’s a yes-­or-­no question, Trooper,” Templeton said, and she heard his laughter then. Humming through her whether she wanted to admit it or not.

  “Of course,” she said, because there was no rational reason not to go running with the man. It would be great to get a run in and work off some of her nervous energy before she returned to Nenana. And it would be silly to run separately if they were both heading out at the same time.

  Because heaven forbid Kate ever allow herself to be anything less than rational.

  “Of course?” he asked, and she thought that he was actually . . . teasing her. Pushing, at the very least. “Why not say, Templeton, I would love to go running with you? Or would the world screech to a halt if you showed the slightest bit of enthusiasm for something?”

  “I would love to go running with you.” She glared at him. “Templeton.”

  He grinned. “Excellent.”

  When Kate was done with her coffee, she jogged back upstairs. She checked the weather on her phone and pulled together her running clothes. It was ten degrees below zero out there, which meant an extra pair of compression socks, her studded running shoes, and a pair of mittens to pull on over her regular gloves so she’d be able to keep her fingers together and generate more heat. A Buff around her neck she could pull up over her face, and several layers to encourage heat and keep out the wet. Nothing too thick, because Kate knew from experience that if she felt warm when she started running, she would overheat and get wildly uncomfortable shortly thereafter. No matter the temperature.

  When she met Templeton by the front door, he was dressed almost identically.

  “How fast do you normally run?” she asked him.

  He didn’t look at her as he jerked his hat into place. “Whatever pace you want to go is fine with me.”

  “I’m quite fast, actually.”

  That made him give her his full attention, which instantly made Kate question whether or not that had been her motive all along.