Ice

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Ice Page 8

by Stephanie Rowe


  “No, you don’t. Nothing will change for her if you go in there.” Cort squeezed her arm. “Just don’t do it.”

  “Hey!” Trooper Mann’s voice echoed out of the cabin “You sure this is the right place? There’s nothing in here.”

  Kaylie and Cort exchanged startled glances, then, as one, they turned and sprinted into the cabin.

  Cort couldn’t believe it.

  Jackson and Sara’s cabin was immaculate.

  No bodies. Not a single drop of blood. No sign of a struggle. Even the pillows were in place on the couch.

  Two coffee cups were sitting on the counter, and dirty pots were in the sink, as if Jackson and Sara had just run out the door after breakfast.

  “Oh, my God.” Kaylie grabbed the waistband of Cort’s jeans, her fingers digging into his side. “What happened?”

  Trooper Mann walked in from the back bedroom “Jackson’s favorite hunting gun is gone. Seems to me they just went off for a hunt.”

  Cort shook his head, still stunned by the state of the cabin. “No, they were there.” He gestured to the floor. “Dead. I—”

  “You sure you didn’t get the cabins mixed up?” Trooper Mann asked.

  “Dammit, Bill. I’ve been out here a thousand times. I wouldn’t make a mistake like that.” Cort squatted and shoved the carpet back off the floor, but the wood was clean. Not so much as a speck of dust on it, let alone bloodstains. What the hell?

  Rich nudged aside the rug with his toe, but there was nothing underneath except clean wood floor.

  “Then you must have been mistaken about what you saw,” Trooper Mann said. “There’s nothing here to see.”

  Cort stood up, running his hands over the wall where he’d seen the worst bloodstains. Nothing. Nothing. The wood was clean. “I swear—”

  “There’s no way to clean up that kind of mess.” Trooper Mann said. “Not this fast. No one’s been here since at least two this morning, given the lack of footprints.”

  “You didn’t check out back,” Cort snapped. “Check the back.”

  Trooper Mann narrowed his eyes, but nodded at Rich. “See if you can find any legitimate footprints outside. I don’t want to hear about deer prints or moose tracks.”

  “Yes, sir.” Rich snapped to attention and headed outside with purpose in his step.

  Trooper Mann faced down Cort. “Listen, son, I know you get a little twisted around the anniversary of your parents’ death, but seeing two murders…” He shook his head. “Best if you don’t let that get around. Won’t be good for business.”

  Cort’s shoulders tightened at the accusation. “Dammit, Bill, I’m not crazy.”

  “Cort’s not imagining things,” Kaylie interrupted. “I saw it too. I had blood on my hands. I—”

  “And you, little lady…” The trooper eyed her, and something about the way he was looking at her irritated Cort. “I don’t know what little game you’re playing, trying to get Cort’s attention by lying for him, but we don’t like outsiders coming in here and messing with us. Cort’s a fine man, and he doesn’t need you screwing around with him. I suggest you walk away right now.”

  “What?” Kaylie’s eyes flashed in a show of fire Cort hadn’t expected to see from her. He almost caught himself grinning at the way she was standing up to the grizzled Alaskan who had shut down many drunken brawls simply by walking into the room.

  “I’m not lying for him!” Kaylie snapped at the trooper Cort had known for nearly thirty years. “Why would I? All I care about is Sara! Don’t you even want to bring in experts to do some forensic something in there? I’m sure they could find evidence that—”

  “Now you think you know how to do my job?” Trooper Mann’s gaze hardened.

  “No, but—”

  Cort set his hand on Kaylie’s arm, and she hesitated, looking at him. “Bill.” Cort kept his voice calm, when inside he wanted to react exactly as Kaylie had. But he knew Trooper Mann too well. Accusations would only piss him off, and they couldn’t afford that. “I know what I saw. Can you risk not believing me?”

  The older man hesitated. “You know I respect you, but there’s not a damn sign of anything in this place. If there was anything, even a set of footprints, I’d be all over it. But I can’t bring out a posse when there’s not a single shred of evidence, and the only witnesses are a guy everyone knows is about to fall off the edge and some woman trying to get into his pants.”

  Bill didn’t hide his disgust for Kaylie, and she bristled. “I’m not lying, and I’m not trying to get into his—”

  Cort’s grip tightened on Kaylie. She snapped her mouth shut, as if understanding that pissing off the local cops would do nothing to help their cause. Angered by Bill’s treatment of Kaylie, Cort had to fight to keep control of his own temper. “Bill—”

  The door slammed open. “Nothing out there,” Rich said, coming back inside and stomping snow off his boots. “Not a single footprint. Even from an animal. Given the amount of snow that’s fallen, it looks like the place has been untouched since at least two this morning.”

  “Then it was swept clean.” Shit. It had to have been. Someone had been there! “No way has that snow been untouched all night. There are animals all over the place out here.”

  “You don’t think I can read snow?” Rich’s upper lip wrinkled in annoyance. “Take a look yourself.”

  “Damned straight.” Cort headed toward the door, then stopped when Trooper Mann clapped him on the shoulder.

  “I’ll make a deal with you, son. You find something to convince me, and I’ll be all over it. In the meantime, I’ll put out a call for anyone who sees Jackson and Sara to call it in. Once we hear from them, it’ll all be settled.”

  “They’re dead, and the bastard who killed them is running around laughing his ass off at us right now. You won’t hear from them.”

  “Put yourself in my shoes, son.” Bill gestured at the pristine cabin. “What choice do I have?”

  “You could choose to have faith in me,” Cort ground out. “If not for me, for my dad. He was your friend for over fifty years, for God’s sake. You’d trust his word. Trust mine.”

  Bill gave him a long look. “Not with your history, son. My bosses would fire me in an hour if I launched a manhunt in this situation, and I’m too close to retirement to risk it.” The older man hesitated. “I’m sorry, but I recommend you take some downtime. Get a grip on things. This is bad shit you’re heading toward.” He glanced at Kaylie, then leaned close to Cort, lowering his voice. “I’ll be honest, son. Your dad started to crack before he crashed that plane, and I hate to see the same thing happen to you.”

  Cort’s gut went cold. “What are you talking about? My dad was fine—”

  “He wasn’t, and then he killed himself and your mother.” The trooper shrugged. “Watch yourself. I’d hate to be picking my way through your remains.” Bill looked at Kaylie. “And hooking up with a woman from the Lower 48 is going to put you over the edge. Be smart, son. Take some time and don’t take on her problems.”

  Then he snapped his fingers at Rich and they walked out.

  “What a bastard!”

  Cort’s irritation dissipated instantly at Kaylie’s unladylike outburst. “Don’t worry. We’ve got the whole flight home to convince them.”

  She scowled at him. “Change his mind? How?”

  Cort opened the door and gestured for her to go first. “Trooper Mann’s got a weak stomach when he’s not the one flying the plane, and there might be some bad turbulence on the way home.” He caught a whiff of her delicate, flowery scent as she moved past him, and his groin tightened. Damn. After all she’d done to piss him off, he still wanted her.

  Kaylie glanced up at the utterly still trees and the bright sunlight. “Turbulence? In this perfect weather?”

  Cort hesitated, wondering if he should have come clean about his intentions with her. People from the Lower 48 sometimes had different ethics than those necessary to survive in Alaska. “Yeah,” he said a litt
le cautiously. “Bad turbulence can still happen on a sunny day.”

  Her mouth tightened in disapproval. “You’re going to do some risky flying to get him to agree to help us?”

  “Yeah. I’ll be under control, but Bill won’t know it.”

  Kaylie set her hands on her hips. “You are a piece of work.”

  “Hey.” Cort spun toward her. “Jackson is dead, and the cops don’t believe me. If screwing around in the air will get them to pursue Jackson’s murderer, then I’ll do it all day long. You have a problem with that, you stay on the ground.”

  She pressed her lips together and worked her jaw. “I can’t stand your attitude.”

  “And I’m loving yours,” he snarled. “You in or not?”

  Kaylie sighed, then surprised him with a nod. “For Sara, yes, because I don’t have any other ideas. But I don’t approve.”

  “Can’t imagine you approve of much in this state.” But Cort had to admit, he was impressed with her willingness to go along with it. Surprised. His ex-wife sure as hell wouldn’t have, no matter what was at stake. Much as he might have disliked what Kaylie represented, anyone willing to go against everything they believed in for the sake of someone they cared about went up a few notches in his book.

  “If you think it’ll help,” Kaylie said slowly, “I could scream a little bit and act like we’re going to crash.”

  Shit. Could she be more of a contradiction? He grinned. “Hell, yeah. That’ll bring Bill to his knees. You have a good scream?”

  They both stared at each other, clearly remembering her vocalizations last night when they were having sex. Yeah, she had a good scream. The tension jacked up tenfold, and his gaze dropped to her mouth. She was less than a foot way. All he had to was take one step and—

  “You guys coming or what?” Bill’s shout broke the spell, and Kaylie’s cheeks turned red.

  “He’ll buy it.” Her voice was businesslike and a little stiff. She slipped her sunglasses over those doe brown eyes of hers and began to head toward the plane.

  “Excellent.” Cort studied her as he followed her down the snowy steps and across the clearing. Even in her jeans and parka, there was a seductiveness to her walk. She was all female, pure sensuality. And she was willing to cross some ethical lines, same as he was.

  Luke was always riding him to play by the rules. And his ex-wife? Shit. Cort still bore the marks from her trying to destroy who he was. Hadn’t had a partner in crime since his dad had died.

  There was no doubt Kaylie disapproved of him, but she was still willing to step up and shake things up when it suited her. No matter what she claimed, Kaylie Fletcher was turning out to be more than jeweled shoes and diamond earrings.

  Damned if Cort didn’t find that incredibly hot.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Kaylie grinned to herself as she slapped mayonnaise on the bread she’d found in Cort’s cabinet. She was whipping up sandwiches while Cort waited outside for Bill to stop vomiting in the woods behind the hangar.

  Her initial hesitation with his fake turbulence plan had dissipated when Trooper Mann had pulled her aside and told her that Cort was a good friend of his and he was going to look out for him. The older trooper had then ordered her to stay the hell away from Cort and not drag him down into her problems.

  So when Cort had hit that first pocket of “turbulence,” Kaylie had let out a good gasp of horror with only a small amount of discomfort with what she was doing and a large amount of true nervousness about Cort’s strategy. But she’d watched Cort carefully the whole time. He’d been relaxed, handling the plane as if it were an extension of his own body. He’d exuded such complete competence that she’d been caught in his web of quiet assurance.

  He’d been in control the whole time, and she’d known it in her core. That peace of mind had allowed her to relax. The third time Cort had dropped altitude and let loose with a stream of swear words that she’d never heard before, she’d almost started laughing. He’d been truly hilarious, a gifted actor, creating fear in his passengers just as easily as he dissipated it with his calm assurance.

  She’d almost betrayed their secret when Cort had dropped the plane about a hundred feet in a split second. Trooper Mann had let out a moan, she’d screamed, and then Cort had winked at her.

  That utterly playful wink had done her in. She’d burst out laughing before she could stop herself, and Cort had had to cover for her by shouting warnings back to the officers to drown out her sputters.

  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed, truly laughed, with anyone, but the moment had been so…right? Cathartic? After so much stress, after feeling so consumed by grief and loss, after feeling so powerless…For the first time in ages, Kaylie had taken control of a situation she hated. She’d stood up for herself against someone who’d belittled her, and she’d had fun doing it. Having Cort at her back had given her a strength she hadn’t felt in a long time. And she hadn’t been afraid at all. It had been fun, and for once, she’d done something a little risky and not been scared, or worried about dying. She’d been happy, caught up in the moment in a way she hadn’t been in so long. Rainy commutes and spreadsheets had never made her feel as alive as she had in that moment with Cort.

  His irreverence and confidence had been contagious.

  Kaylie’s smile faded as she realized how easy it would be to get sucked into Cort’s devil-may-care attitude. To forget that what he did every day was so dangerous. He was exactly like her family, and it had taken complete withdrawal from them for Kaylie to survive. Even the state trooper had said Cort was cracking, pushing the edge even beyond what was acceptable for a bush pilot.

  For a man like Cort, Kaylie would never be enough. Risk would be his best friend, adrenaline would be his first choice for a lover, and death would take him early. If she fell for a man like Cort, her soul would slowly shrivel up and die. Moments like today were just the start. The next one would be more dangerous, and then the next one would push it further, and it would continue to escalate until someone she cared about died. She had to remember who she was and who she had to be, in order to survive.

  The front door of the cabin flew open, and Kaylie looked up as Cort walked inside. “So? Did it work?” she asked. “Are they going to search for Jackson and Sara’s killer?”

  “No.” Cort’s jaw was tight, his shoulders rigid, and there was anger vibrating off his body.

  “No? Are you serious?” She set down the sandwich she’d been making as he strode past her into his bedroom and slammed the door.

  A loud thud sounded from the bedroom, and then another.

  Kaylie abandoned the lunch and hurried over to his room, tapping lightly before opening it. “Cort…”

  He was in the corner, hammering at a punching bag strung up by a thick cord, a stream of curses accentuating each hit. His shoulders were ripped, his biceps straining at his shirt sleeves, the tendons in his neck flexing. Raw male power and fury unleashed. Cort McClaine didn’t hold back.

  No social mores restrained him from doing what he felt like doing. As she watched him thrash the punching bag, she envied his ability to just be who he was and not care about the ramifications.

  He caught the bag and leaned his head against it, breathing heavily. He turned his head and looked at her, his eyes dark and turbulent. “I’m going back to search the place, and I’m not leaving until I find enough proof to force them to launch a manhunt.”

  Kaylie nodded, not surprised. A man like Cort would have no other response than to take over. “I’m going with you.”

  He scowled. “I’m going alone.”

  She folded her arms over her chest. “Do we really need to have this discussion again?”

  He ground his jaw, and she felt him gearing up for an argument.

  “I know Sara so well,” Kaylie pointed out. “I’ll be able to know what’s out of place or missing. I’ll cut the time in half, and that means the cops can start tracking him twice as fast.”

  “What a
bout your family? On the mountain? Clock’s ticking.”

  She shifted uncomfortably. “While you were out, I left a message for Dusty. When he calls, I’ll have him pick me up at Jackson and Sara’s.”

  Cort slammed his fist into the bag again, then caught it and leaned against it. “You are not flying Denali with him.”

  Kaylie lifted her chin. “Don’t you dare try to keep me from finding my family.”

  “I’m trying to keep you alive.”

  His words startled her into silence, and Kaylie realized he meant it. Whatever the rest of his agenda was, Cort meant to keep her safe. No one ever tried to keep her safe. Everyone in her family had wanted her to take more risks and endanger her. It didn’t make sense that a man of Cort’s reckless lifestyle would care about keeping her safe…but God, it was the most amazing feeling to look at the hard expression in his eyes and realize he meant it.

  It didn’t matter that it was because of Jackson, and not because Cort cared about her.

  It was still a gift, a first for her, and Kaylie realized right then that was what she wanted. A partner who wanted to keep her safe. And Cort had shown her that. It was a gift, and she didn’t want to let it go. “Okay,” she whispered.

  He raised his brows. “Okay, what?”

  She spoke more loudly. “I won’t fly with Dusty. If you’ll help me find someone else. Who you trust.”

  Cort hesitated, as if he wasn’t sure how to take her unexpected acquiescence. “Yeah, okay. I’ll find someone.”

  “Soon?”

  “Yes, soon.” He muttered something under his breath and knocked his forehead lightly against the bag before shoving away from it. “We leave as soon as I fix the Cessna. Pack enough to stay for a couple days. We’re not coming home until we have answers.”

  She was already shaking her head. “I don’t have a couple days. My family—”

  “We’ll leave from there to go after your family.”

  Her breath caught. “You’re going to help me with them? You’re going to fly me?”

  He shot her a hooded look, his eyes searing with intensity. “I don’t know yet. But for now, you’re staying with me. Day and night.”

 

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