Cold Truth

by Susan Sleeman

  Pillows. She’d lined up pillows in the bed to look like her body. He shot a look around the room.

  “She’s gone,” Jackson’s voice came from behind, startling Coop, and he whipped around, wrenching his back.

  No. He didn’t need that problem now. He had to find Kiera, and he wouldn’t let a bad back sideline him.

  Jackson shook his head. “So much for giving her the benefit of the doubt.”

  Coop wanted to tell his buddy to shut up, but he might be right. If she was innocent, she would still be there. Coop crossed the room to the window and found the lock unlatched.

  “Okay, fine, she took off,” Coop admitted, but he kept trying to tell himself there was a logical reason for her disappearance, other than she’d fled because she was guilty. “But she had to get off the property somehow.”

  “We should check the security feed,” Jackson suggested.

  Coop gingerly headed for the main room, babying his back all the way.

  “Back acting up?” Jackson asked.

  “It’s fine.” Coop hoped he was telling the truth and the spasm would stop. He logged into his laptop to pull up the front gate camera feed. He rewound the video and saw Kiera sneak out the open gate. He continued to rewind and Jackson drove through gate moments before.

  “Man, I let her out,” Jackson said from behind Coop.

  Coop knew Jackson would beat himself up about that. Coop would do the same thing. “No way you could have expected that to happen.”

  “I glanced back to make sure the gate latched, but she was out by that point. If I’d only kept the gate in my view at all times.”

  “C’mon. None of us do that.” Coop got out his phone and dialed Gage. “Kiera’s missing.”

  “What do you mean missing?”

  Coop explained. “I have no idea where she might have gone, but I did solve the puzzle. The center of the pentagon is a picture of a lantern. We should get the team together to brainstorm what it could mean.”

  “I’ll text everyone to meet in the conference room. I’ll be there in a few minutes.” The call went dead.

  “Let me guess,” Jackson said. “He’s not too happy with me.”

  “He didn’t say anything other than to meet the team in the conference room.”

  Jackson shook his head. “Let’s get over there and get this fixed.”

  “I’ll drive. You grab the puzzle and make sure you keep the pieces together so we can show the others.”

  Jackson slid the puzzle onto the palm of his hand and held it flat. They exited the building. To protect his back, Coop took his time getting into the truck and got a raised eyebrow from Jackson. So what if he knew Coop’s back was tied up in tight knots? He wouldn’t bow out now.

  On the way to the training facility, he kept wondering where the trust he had in Kiera less than an hour ago had gone. How could he be so double-minded? One minute he trusted her. The next he didn’t. If he truly loved her, he would believe in her, wouldn’t he? Not ever having felt this way before, he didn’t know.

  In the conference room, Jackson placed the puzzle on the table. Coop grabbed a marker and went to a whiteboard, ignoring his back screaming at him to sit down. He wanted to get a head start on figuring out where Kiera had gone and would note the ideas on the board. Then when the others arrived, he could quickly bring them up to speed and they could locate Kiera faster.

  He wrote LANTERN and underlined it.

  “You think Kiera solved the puzzle and took it apart to throw us off?” Jackson grabbed a bottle of water from the small refrigerator in the corner. “Or maybe she’d already set up a rendezvous with her brother? Or he could have called or texted her, I suppose.”

  Coop didn’t want to believe she’d deceived them at all. Taking the puzzle apart was bad enough. As was heading out after receiving a call or text. But having a prearranged meeting scheduled with her brother all this time? Coop couldn’t believe that she could be that deceptive. That she’d taken off on him. Him. He’d foolishly believed she’d come to care for him, but maybe he was mistaken about that, too.

  Pain ratcheted through his body, but he wouldn’t let it take him down or influence his judgment. He was going to find her. “Any of those options are possible, but I’m inclined to believe she solved the puzzle. I did it, and she’s much smarter than me.”

  “But why take off without us? Makes no sense.”

  “Agreed,” Coop said, and for the first time he imagined her out there. Alone. In the dark. Maybe headed for a showdown with her brother’s abductor. Maybe just headed to meet her brother and was planning to flee the country, never to be seen again.

  Coop couldn’t handle thinking about that, so he moved to another whiteboard. “We need to consider that she might flee the country, and we should contact Blake. Plus have Eryn try to hack Kiera’s cell. If she got a text or call, Eryn might be able to track it.” He noted his ideas on the other board. “And what about the lantern? How is that significant?”

  “Off the top of my head,” Jackson said. “It could refer to a ship.”

  Coop jotted “ship” on the board.

  “Or a lighthouse.” Jackson picked up his water bottle. “Camping, maybe.”

  Coop noted the items on the board. “And if we move out of the immediate area, it could refer to mining. If she’s not meeting up with her brother close by, she’d need some sort of transport.” Coop added mining on the one board and transport with a question mark on the other one.

  “People use lanterns in storms for lighting when they lose power.” Jackson took a long drink of water.

  “Wait—what about the ice? The hands were intentionally put in ice, so what connections do we have between lanterns and ice?”

  “Probably not mining,” Jackson said as Coop crossed it off. “I’m thinking the ice was just there to keep the hands frozen.”

  The team started filtering in and pointing out other options that Coop added.

  Eryn rushed in breathlessly. “The initial report from Veritas says the ice didn’t contain any toxin. It’s basic tap water.”

  Gage arrived and everyone fell silent. He took his usual place at the head of the table. “Bring me up to speed.”

  Coop explained the lantern and the items he’d noted on the board. “Let’s narrow this down to the three most likely scenarios and work those leads.”

  “Can I say something here?” Eryn asked.

  Gage nodded.

  “I don’t believe Kiera is involved in the theft. Yeah, I know you found the biotoxin at her place, but think about it. If she helped steal it, why keep it in plain view in her apartment? Why not hide it securely? Why even keep it at her place in case the police wanted to search there?”

  “It wasn’t exactly in plain view,” Coop said, hating that he was weighing in on the side against her. “And she may not have worried the police would connect the theft to her.”

  “She’s smart, Coop,” Eryn replied. “Smarter than any of us. She’d figure that out.”

  “Which means,” Gage said. “She could have put those smarts to work and played us all.”

  “Do any of you honestly get that vibe from her?” Eryn asked.

  “No,” Coop said. “But I can’t be objective when it comes to her.” He hated that he had to admit this to his teammates, but it was about time he did.

  “What about the rest of you?” Eryn flipped her hair over her shoulder. “You believe she’s in on the theft?”

  Murmurs of no traveled around the table.

  “Need I remind you we can’t go with a vibe, but we have to work the facts put in front of us.” Gage looked around the room, pausing to look at each person before moving on. “Kiera was in possession of the stolen toxin, and she just disappeared. Both make her a prime suspect in the theft, and we owe it to our client to put aside any personal thoughts we may have about her and do our job.”

  “I will,” Eryn said. “But we can use our take on her to determine which of the scenarios we should follow.
If she hasn’t misled us all this time, it’s likely she solved the puzzle and something spooked her into taking off.”

  “Did something happen that might have made her suddenly not trust us?” Alex peered at Coop, his dark eyes probing.

  “You might as well have asked what I did to make her not trust me,” Coop muttered. “And there’s nothing. At least nothing I can think of.” He rehashed the day, and a sudden realization hit him. He shot a look at Gage. “Could she have overheard us talking? If so, she knew we didn’t believe in her.”

  “Explain,” Eryn demanded.

  Coop shared about the conversation in the training facility. He was sure he’d all but said she was a thief and her brother was going to jail.

  Eryn shook her head. “Well, yeah, that would make me take off. A guy I was falling for suddenly says I can’t be trusted, and he’ll have my brother arrested? I’d be out of here the first moment I got.”

  “You’re assuming she’s falling for me,” Coop said.

  Groans traveled around the table, and Coop caught several of the guys rolling their eyes.

  “It’s so obvious even Gage’s kids probably figured it out.” Alex raised an eyebrow. “And the same is true of you. You haven’t exactly been hiding your feelings either.”

  “Okay. Fine,” Coop admitted. “Maybe Eryn is right. If so, Kiera may have figured out what the lantern means. Maybe it has something to do with one of those chemistry laws.”

  “Or maybe it’s simple. Like the things you noted on the board.” Riley ran a hand through his hair. “That’s often the case, right?”

  “Right,” Gage said. “So how do we decide which of your ideas holds the most merit?”

  Eryn sat forward. “Maybe we need to combine the lantern with the hands we found.”

  “You hold a lantern with your hand,” Jackson offered.

  “Seems to me it’s not quite that simple.” Coop took out his phone and passed the photo of the hands around the room. “What about the colors? They’re red, white, and blue.”

  Alex looked up from Coop’s phone. “Patriotic colors?”

  “Maybe.” Coop rested on the corner of the table to lessen his back spasm. “But the blue isn’t navy. It’s lighter.”

  Gage eyed him. “Red and white are often colors of lighthouses or ships.”

  “What about the blue?” Coop asked.

  “Blue for ships is a great possibility, but lighthouses in Oregon, no.” Gage stood up. “The standard coloring is white and red with a predominance of white. At least as far as I know, but my parents are big nautical buffs and would know for sure. Let me give them a call.” He stepped away, his phone already in his hand.

  “Has to be a place with a caretaker’s cottage,” Coop called after him. “That’s the only thing that makes the paneling and dresser in the video make sense.”

  Eryn opened her laptop. “And I’ll get current satellite photos showing us any ships in the area.”

  “Good idea,” Coop said. “But without a nearby port, Kiera would have to find a boat and travel to the ship. That’s more of a long shot than the lighthouse.”

  “Still possible if it was planned in advance,” Alex said.

  “Agreed.” Coop still didn’t want to believe the advanced-planning scenario, but he had to accept that it was possible. He looked at the board. “What about camping? Any ideas on how the colors are related to that?”

  Eryn looked up from her computer. “No ships in the immediate area.”

  “With that a bust, I suggest we get on computers and search the local campgrounds for ones with cabins.” Alex got up and towered over all of them.

  “Hold up,” Gage called out. “My parents gave me a lead we should check out first. Eryn, bring up the lighthouse at Cape Outlook on the screen.”

  “On it.” Her fingers flew over the keyboard.

  Coop swiveled to face Gage who was approaching the table again. “I’ve never heard of that one, but I’m not from here.”

  “It’s a private lighthouse up the coast about ten miles,” Gage said. “The owner took over one of the decommissioned lighthouses and lives in the caretaker’s cottage. He petitioned to keep the house lit and was approved. So it’s an active lighthouse, but the public can’t tour it.”

  The screen filled with a tall white tower built into the side of a house overlooking the ocean. The house had a red roof and stripe below it with a blue warning light at the top.

  “It has all the colors,” Coop said. “And you can even apply the number of colors in a pattern. One blue at the top. A red roof, white tower, red stripe, and white again. And the blue color is the right shade.”

  “Okay. Say we’re right,” Gage said. “What about the hands?”

  “I’ll search for Cape Outlook along with the word ‘hands.’ ” Eryn started typing.

  “One thing that’s bothering me.” Coop peered at the image. “If this place is owner-occupied, how could Pointer be holding Kevin there?”

  “Bringing up an article now,” Eryn announced.

  “Many Hands Light the Way,” Coop read the title aloud, though everyone else could read it. He scanned the story about the lighthouse falling into disrepair and—due to the owner’s advanced age—the community coming together to repair it.

  “There’s your connection to the hands.” Alex leaned against the counter and crossed his ankles. “But again, Coop’s question is still valid. How could Pointer be holding Kevin there?”

  “Let me see if I can locate more information.” Eryn turned her attention back to her computer, but left it connected to the projector.

  Coop watched her enter search terms and select an article titled “Local Lighthouse Owner Dies.”

  Coop quickly scanned the article. “The place is vacant while people battle for ownership in court. A vacant lighthouse is a perfect place to hide Kevin.”

  21

  Kiera pulled the gun from her waistband, crept across the road, and dropped into a ditch for cover. She scanned the property surrounded by a six-foot-high wrought iron fence and gate. She couldn’t scale the tall fence, and even if she could somehow climb it, the top had pointy spindles that were sure to do some serious damage to her body.

  She would have to try the gate and hope it was unlocked. She crept out of her hiding space and stepped to the gate. Before she reached it, a shaft of moonlight revealed a solid padlock. Now how was she going to get in? She had to find a way. Just had to.

  She moved along the perimeter of the property, taking cover whenever possible. She eased across the front. The side. The back, where she had to cling to the fence to keep from falling down the crazy outcroppings and into the pounding surf. She swung around the corner. Spotted a tall tree with branches extending over the fence. If she could climb the tree, she could shimmy out onto a branch and drop into the courtyard.

  Thankfully, she was wearing athletic shoes. She tucked the gun back into her waistband and found a foothold on a lower branch on the thick trunk. Slowly, she made her way up the rough bark, the muscles in her legs screaming with the effort. She reached midway. Paused to breathe deep. Found another stub of a branch for her foot. Pulled up. Her foot slipped, and she slid down. The bark ripped at her cheek, but her hands held until she could gain her footing again.

  Another deep breath, and she started climbing, her scraped cheek stinging. Higher. Higher. Branch by branch. Finally, she reached one hanging over the fence. She climbed onto it. Hugged the limb and rested to assess her position. She was over ten feet above the ground. A drop from that height could seriously injure her, but she couldn’t do anything about it. She had to do this. For her brother. Her twin. Her best friend.

  She slid out on the branch until her feet cleared the fence. The grassy ground below should be soft. She thought so, anyway. She clasped the branch with her hands and let her body fall. Her hands held, and she swung a few times until her body settled.

  Holding her breath, she let go, hit the ground and went with the motion, tumbling ov
er and over until she came to a stop. She’d expected to have her breath knocked out of her, but she was breathing fine and nothing ached.

  She got to her feet. Tested her legs. Ankles. All was good.

  Yes! She’d done it. Now to get inside.

  She started around the building looking for an entry point. She twisted the front doorknob. It was locked. She tried a window with closed blinds. Locked. Tried another. She circled the entire house. Everything was buttoned up tight. Of course it was. Even if Hay hadn’t secured the place, the owner’s representatives would have.

  She had no choice. She would have to break a window, not something she could do without making a noise that would bring Hay running. How did she accomplish that without Hay capturing her? She could break a window on the side, then run around front and hide. When he opened the front door to step out and check the damage, she would wait for him to turn the corner and enter through the front door.

  Would it work? It had to. She couldn’t think of anything else to do.

  She chose a window nearest the back and wiggled out a brick lining the flowerbeds. She pulled back and threw hard.

  The shattering of glass was louder than she’d expected. She didn’t stand to wait for a light to come on inside, but raced around front. She hid in a trio of prickly holly shrubs, the barbs slicing her already scraped face. She almost cried out, but clamped down on her lips to stifle the sound and peeked at the door through a small opening in the trees.

  C’mon, Hay. Come out.

  She started to count. One, two, three, and on until it turned to sixty. Then seventy. Finally, at one hundred thirty, the lock on the door turned with a snick. The knob twisted. The door squeaked open a fraction. A flashlight beam jutted out and swept over the area. The door opened further, the light’s arc widening.

  The beam darted toward her. She ducked low. The shaft of light swerved over her head and swung back. She raised her head. Saw Hay step out. He was still thin enough that a strong breeze could blow him away. He started toward the side with the broken window. He rounded the corner. The door clicked shut.