Butterfly Ops

by Jen Doyle

“Damn. Crank the spidey sense up to 11, why don’t you?” Catalano muttered. Or at least Ian thought it was said out loud; he couldn’t be 100% sure.

  With an almost too-casual shrug, Paul said, “But they also said there were beautiful sunrises, though, so it may not mean anything.”

  No, it might not, but you never knew. Just as importantly, however… “There were other witnesses?”

  Melissa’s turn to answer. “Not to Dan Swanson’s disappearance. But a few of the others.”

  It was getting harder and harder to suppress his anger. There wasn’t anything about other witnesses in the files they’d been given previously, and he hadn’t seen anything in the files they’d been given the night before.

  Paul perked up a bit, leaning forward again. “Most of the victims had traveling companions—not much of a surprise since anyone experienced knows not to go into the Park alone. It’s just too big.”

  Although Ian might have been struggling with the power play here, Lyndsey was either oblivious or entirely uninterested. Eyes sparkling, she leaned forward. “So the butterfly thing…?”

  “I remember it coming up twice before,” Paul said, getting into it now. “We’ve been backtracking through the transcripts of the interviews that were done before we came on. So far it’s been mentioned four other times.”

  “How, exactly?” Ian asked. Well, hell; it wasn’t like he was holding any of the cards at the moment. And it didn’t hurt that he had a bit of a buzz coming on himself. If you can’t beat ’em…

  “That they were everywhere,” Melissa answered, her eyes going from Ian to Paul, then back to Ian again. “Or at least more than they’d ever seen at one time.”

  Just like Annika had said on the phone.

  Lyndsey picked up her cup. Started peeling it apart.

  “What kind of butterflies?” Catalano asked. “Was there anything odd about them?”

  “What—like that they were big enough to carry these men away? I don’t think so.” Paul glanced at Melissa for confirmation. “The only odd thing was how many of them there were.”

  Her head cocking to the side, Lyndsey asked, “On the bodies—were there any drawings of butterflies? I don’t remember seeing any.”

  Not a one from what Ian could remember—and he had pretty damn good recall. The markings clearly meant something to someone, but they weren’t recognizable in any other way as far as Ian could tell. He turned to Paul. “Have you made any progress in figuring out what the drawings mean?”

  Paul shook his head. “We actually haven’t been able to do much. The Lieutenant’s been supportive, but we’ve got other cases. Ones that take precedence over something happening on the other side of the province.”

  “How about you?” Melissa said. “What are your resources? Is there a game plan?”

  There was always a game plan. “We head into the Park tomorrow.” If Monica didn’t throw any more roadblocks in their way, that was. “But we’ve got a good research team in place.”

  “And what are you planning to do once you’re actually in the Park?” Melissa said, smiling. “Bring a Ouija board and put out a call to all the evil spirits?” There was an edge to her voice—she still wasn’t totally on board with the conversation they were having. There was also relief, however, that someone else was handling it. The rationalization could start almost immediately—or the nightmares. Take your pick.

  Ian kept his smile as subdued as possible. He hoped she could go with the rationalization. It was always better that way. “Nope—good old-fashioned police work. We’re mapping out the last known location of each of the victims. We’ll hit each place and see what happens from there.”

  “That’s a lot of territory to cover.” Paul crumpled up his cup. He seemed ready to be done here. “Whatever this thing is, it gets around. The bodies have been found all over the Park.”

  That’s what the resources were for. The good thing about this job? Ian got to control the money, the equipment, and the troops, all of which were top of the line. “We have two teams of eight going into the park, and another to staff out Command post in Atikokan. We can spare a little space if you want to come…”

  Paul actually looked interested. He turned to Melissa. “You think the Lieutenant will go for that?”

  “Doubt it,” Melissa said, standing up. “We’ve got some Royals visiting next week. All hands on deck.”

  Ian pushed his chair back and got to his feet. “If anything changes…” He handed each of the inspectors his business card. “Cell phone number’s on the back. Our head of research—Emily—will check in with you later today to get the rest of the files. And we’ll definitely let you know what happens at Quetico.”

  Lyndsey was quiet as they walked back to the car. If they’d been alone, he might have pushed her on it.

  Then again, he might not have. If it had something to do with her obvious concern about his going out into the field and his obvious desire to be out there, then it wasn’t a conversation he particularly wanted to have again. It actually pissed him off a little bit. He’d managed to stay alive all this time without her—did she think that had been through sheer luck?

  Of course, it didn’t help to have Matt against it, too, as if Ian was in the same place he’d been sixteen years ago when, yes, he’d lost his shit entirely. But that was a long time ago; he’d been just fine for a good long time. Having Lyndsey back in his life didn’t change that.

  He hoped.

  “Penny?” Catalano said, making Ian jerk his head around. Was the guy seriously expecting Ian to tell him his innermost thoughts? He supposed it was good there wasn’t any mind-reading going on, but still. This wasn’t—

  “I’m not thinking anything,” Lyndsey said, answering Catalano’s question.

  Ian jabbed the button for the crosswalk. Nice, Fox. Good way to make a fool of yourself, thinking it’s all about you. So much for Lyndsey being back in your life not affecting that whole having-your-shit-together thing.

  “Yes, you are,” Catalano was saying as the light changed. “Might as well come out and say it.” To Ian, he added, “She wants a threesome with us.”

  Ian’s mouth dropped open. “Wha—?”

  “Oh, my God.” Lyndsey rolled her eyes. “Do you ever think of anything besides sex?” She started walking, which was a good reminder to Ian that he should do the same rather than stand there on the sidewalk, frozen in place.

  “I wasn’t the one thinking about it,” Catalano answered. “I was trying not to think about it. No thanks to you.”

  Hitting Catalano in the arm—she seemed to do that a lot—Lyndsey said, “I don’t even want a twosome with you.”

  “You keep saying that,” Catalano answered, “but I don’t think it’s true.” He laughed as Lyndsey hit him again. Then the smile disappeared. “Seriously. What were you thinking about?” He held his hands out in a coming clean kind of gesture. “I stay out of your head because I promised I would, but you promised you wouldn’t hold back.”

  It was an interesting exchange, Ian had to admit. Open and honest in an unexpected way, and one which they allowed him to be a part of. Or, rather, that Catalano allowed him to be a part of; Lyndsey was the one looking at him uneasily.

  She shrugged. They’d reached the car; she looked down at the ground as Catalano leaned against the door. “I’m not…” Her eyes came up to Ian and then she looked away. “I don’t like this job. I have a bad feeling about it.”

  Right. Ian knew exactly what that bad feeling was. “Do you need me to prove I can do this?” he snapped, admittedly a little too defensively.

  Her head jerked up and there was a second when he was sure she was going to say exactly that. But then she looked down at the ground again. “I just... You know...” Her voice caught. “When I think of ‘Ian’ and ‘butterflies,’ I’d rather be following it up with ‘picnic in the park’ than ‘marked for death.’”

  Oh. Christ, Ian. You’re an ass. He looked at Catalano, wondering if that had been teased o
ut on purpose—and got nothing. A blank stare. Ian turned back. “Lyndsey...”

  She kissed him before he could say anything else, making clear she didn’t want to take that conversation any further than he did. He was more than happy to leave it at the door, more than happy when she took his hand and changed the subject. “Can you get copies of the tapes to Tessa?”

  Why the hell not? “Does she speak Ojibwe?”

  Catalano was the one who answered, “She tends to be able to figure things out a lot quicker than you’d expect.”

  Yeah. Ian remembered that about her. She was Mensa times eight billion. He nodded. “As soon as we get the rest of the files, we can digitize it all and have it to her right away; by tomorrow at the latest.” He looked at his watch. “Let’s head back and see what Matt and Sprague found out at the M.E.’s office, grab some lunch. See if there’s anything else to follow up on here.” Because if not, it was time to head into the park.

  And although he knew that Lyndsey and Matt didn’t quite feel the same, Ian couldn’t wait.

  10

  Lyndsey knew Ian was eager to get to the next phase of things and normally she’d feel exactly the same way. But she wasn’t normally walking into a death trap with the man she loved—nor was she a fan of outdoor living, especially when the alternative was a nice big hotel room overlooking the river and canal—so, no, she wasn’t quite ready to leave Ottawa. Which was why she’d been fine with being dropped off at the hotel to checkout while Ian and Tommy headed out to the airfield where they’d all be catching the flight—transport, in Ian and Matt-speak—to Atikokan. She’d planned to just take a cab to meet them, but apparently Matt had also ended up at the hotel. Which was how she ended up alone in the car with him for the twenty minute drive. She was pretty sure neither one of them was thrilled about that.

  Well, whatever. She was a firm believer in the making-lemonade-out-of-lemons theory.

  She waited until they’d left the parking garage and were out on the main road before telling Matt what had been worrying her since the night before. “Do you think Monica’s setting Ian up?”

  Matt’s eyes came to hers before he turned his gaze back to the road. Jaw clenched, he took his time in responding. “I don’t like the whole thing about the victim profile, either, but I don’t think she’s intentionally putting him out there to get him killed. I have to say, though—and I will be completely honest and say I didn’t ever expect words like this to come out of my mouth—I’m feeling a lot better that you’ll be out there with him.” With a rueful smile, he glanced at her again. “Our team is one of the best I’ve ever seen, but I get the feeling no one is going to protect him like you will.”

  Well, then. Although the circumstances certainly weren’t ones she particularly liked, having Matt’s vote of confidence wasn’t the worst thing. So as long as they were all buddy buddy and everything… “Tell me about you and Sarah. I’m sorry I didn’t get to know her back in California. I can’t remember Ian ever mentioning her.”

  This time Matt’s glance was a lot more loaded. And guarded. “I didn’t really talk to Ian much about her at first. And then… It never really seemed the time.”

  Right. Because that had been when everything was falling apart and in all her dwelling on her and Ian’s break-up, she’d forgotten that hadn’t exactly been the best of times for Ian and Matt either—because of her. Brilliant, Lyn. Open mouth, insert foot.

  Okay. New subject, then. She had plenty. “So what’s the deal with Brooks? He and Ian are kind of weird around each other.”

  Matt gave her an odd look. “Ian didn’t tell you?”

  She shook her head. “He’s doing a remarkably good job of avoiding the subject.” Not that she’d brought it up too many times after dinner the other night at his house, but still…

  Unhelpfully, Matt answered, “Yeah, I guess he would.”

  There were several minutes of silence. Lyndsey didn’t speak again until they’d gotten a little further out of the city proper. “So?”

  “‘So’ what?” Matt said.

  Really? He was clamming up, too? “So what’s going on there?” she asked, irritation showing through.

  Matt avoided her gaze. “If Ian’s decided he doesn’t want to talk about it, what makes you think I will?”

  Good question. Lyndsey, however, had an excellent answer: “Because you put Brooks and Ian on my team, and if there’s something that will affect the way they work together, then I should know about it.”

  She smiled when Matt sighed. Thank you, Ana, for a perfectly reasonable explanation for being really nosy.

  “For the record,” he said, “they work together just fine; I wouldn’t have put them together if that weren’t the case. Besides, Brooks is really good, probably the best we’ve got after Ian. Under any other circumstances, he’d be team leader...” Matt let his voice trail off as he shrugged. “But I don’t think it would be the worst thing to have him watching Ian’s back.”

  Lyndsey decided to interpret that as Matt stacking the deck in Ian’s favor instead of as a complete lack of confidence in her ability to keep Ian safe. Or as a complete lack of trust. He still hadn’t answered her question, however. She cleared her throat loudly.

  “Okay, okay,” Matt said, giving in. “Ian was the one who told us about Abby—you know about how she came in?”

  Well, yes, but Lyndsey decided to just nod at that one. Better to have him assume Ian had told her rather than find out exactly how much digging Tommy and Tobias had done. Of course, as had been made clear to her, Matt and Ian had probably done the same on ZSJ and her background; she just didn’t feel like going there right now, however.

  Continuing, Matt said, “Ian wasn’t exactly at his best back then so the brass decided Brooks should be the one to actually approach her. I think he fell for her right away. I’m not sure how Abby felt, but they were always really tight.”

  Interesting. Almost interesting enough—emphasis on ‘almost.’ Clearly she had to nudge Matt along. “So when Ian came into the picture…” Nothing. Fine. “I can bug you about this the rest of the way to the airport or you can just tell me and get it over with.”

  Matt laughed as he shook his head, finally giving in. “It was pretty clear there was something going on between Ian and Abby. Brooks stepped back, didn’t make an issue of it. I think Ian’s always felt a little guilty.”

  Guilty? “But…”

  “I said he felt guilty; it didn’t stop him from marrying her.”

  No, apparently not. “Brooks didn’t put up a fight?”

  Matt checked the rear view mirror. Shifted over to the other lane. “Brooks is a lot like Ian—all noble and shit. He wasn’t going to stand in their way.”

  Looking down, Lyndsey felt a sudden affinity for Brooks, even if her motives hadn’t been quite so pure. She remembered that day in Sausalito, standing on the other side of that glass, watching Ian and Abby... Lyndsey had wanted so badly to break through the window, to tell him she hadn’t meant for him to leave, had regretted it since the moment he walked away. To at least try and fight for the man she’d so foolishly let get away. But regardless of how much he had or hadn’t cared, it would have created so many complications. Better to just walk away. To let him live the life he’d built without her, a life that clearly made him happy. It was possibly the nicest thing she’d ever done for him; maybe the only nice thing. She’d definitely been more of a taker than a giver in their relationship. She hadn’t been overly concerned about the imbalance at the time, but she’d been fully aware of it even then.

  And yet it didn’t change the facts: Ian had left her. And then he’d found someone to take her place practically before she’d been able to figure out how to breathe again after he was gone.

  Yes, she was aware she’d never given him a reason to stay, and, yes, she was sure he had good reasons for falling in love with Abby. She’d even been able to convince herself there truly was some explanation about why he’d acted the way he had on that lon
g ago Halloween night. But as she sat here with Matt all these years later, none of that mattered; it was the one thing she still couldn’t get herself past despite how far they’d come in two short weeks. Ian had married Abby, not her. And he had figured out that Abby was what he wanted in record time, considering they’d already been married for months by the time they came back to Sausalito.

  It hurt as much right now as it did then.

  “They got married kind of quickly, didn’t they?” she asked softly.

  Matt didn’t answer right away. He glanced at her and then looked away before saying, “If he had asked you, would you have said yes?”

  She looked up suddenly. “What?”

  Matt kept his eyes on the road and his voice steady. “You heard what I said.”

  Stupid, Lyndsey. Stupid, stupid.

  Her eyes went to the road ahead of them. Lulled into somewhat easy conversational give and take, she’d forgotten who she was talking to. Matt had been welcoming lately; downright friendly. But he wasn’t her friend—not when Ian’s best interests were in any way at risk. And asking that question was in no way in Ian’s best interests; even Lyndsey knew that.

  “Well?” Matt asked, as insistent now as Lyndsey had been about Brooks.

  “That wasn’t a rhetorical question?” Lyndsey asked, trying to play innocent.

  Matt just glared at her.

  It was something she’d thought about off and on over the years—and a hell of a lot more since running into Ian on the street. And although she’d never really considered marriage as an option for her, from the moment she’d met him she’d known he was the only man she’d ever felt at peace with down to the depths of her soul. The only man she’d ever felt safe with, who’d ever made her feel like she’d come home.

  Until the moment he’d turned on her and made her question every happily-ever-after notion she’d begun to believe.

  “I think that’s a discussion I should have with him,” she answered with a lot more certainty than she’d actually felt.

  She was glad Matt’s response was silence—she didn’t want to hear that because of her, Ian had come this close to losing everything he had ever worked for, or that he’d almost died in some nameless jungle on the other side of the world. Nor did she want to hear how happy he’d been with Abby, that Lyndsey’s letting him go was the best thing to ever happen to him. Because Matt would have been perfectly justified in saying any of those things.