At the time, though, the offer had seemed like the answer to his prayers—money in exchange for access to the Forgotten. A real estate transaction, nothing more. But when that had gone sour and the voice on the phone had started asking for more and more, things had started rolling downhill, accelerating fast. These days, he was asking for the impossible.
“I did what I could.” Percy kept his voice level. Don’t let him know you’re afraid.
“They were out at the old campsite again today.”
“Not officially.”
“I don’t give a crap whether it’s an official investigation or not!” The Investor’s voice cracked down the line. “You said you’d get them out of the damn forest!”
“Like I said, I did what I could,” Percy insisted, darting a look at his office door, even though he’d closed and locked it himself. “It’s not like I can call over to the cops and have Williams ordered down off the mountain. He’s on leave. And besides, it’d look suspicious.”
“It’ll look a damn sight more suspicious when I leak your real financials to the media.”
A prickle of greasy sweat itched along Percy’s spine. “You wouldn’t dare. You need me.”
“I’ll make do without you if it becomes necessary.” The Investor paused. When the mayor didn’t say anything, satisfaction smoothed his tone back to something approaching normal as he said, “Deal with them. I don’t care how, just get it done. But make sure it looks like an accident because I can’t afford to have the militia rumors resurfacing. Which means you can’t afford to have it happen either. Understand?”
“I…” Percy swallowed queasily. “I understand. I’ll take care of them.”
Somehow.
Chapter Nine
The next morning, Jack and Tori got up early and headed for the Forgotten with little more than “Coffee?” and “God, yeah” between them.
As the miles rolled beneath the SUV’s tires, Tori thought that the silence in the cab wasn’t strained so much as pensive. She didn’t try to guess at his thoughts—she didn’t dare—but she was very aware that there had been none of his usual sidelong looks…and equally aware that she missed them.
Let it go, she told herself for the twentieth time. They’d each said their pieces the night before, and their passionate make-out session hadn’t changed anything really, except to make it that much more difficult to sit a few feet away from him and not glance over at the long lines of his jean-clad thighs as he jockeyed the heavy vehicle along the narrow track, or admire the ropy lines of his tanned forearms, which were bared beneath the rolled-back sleeves of his forest-green button-down.
So, deciding she didn’t have to deny herself the scenery, even if it was look-don’t-touch territory, she let herself glance, let herself admire. And she let herself wish things had gone differently.
They hadn’t, though, and she couldn’t say he’d made the wrong call. Granted, after tossing and turning her way through exactly the sort of long and restless night she had predicted, she couldn’t say much of anything except that she was tired, her reserves were low and her emotions were way too close to the surface. All of which together warned her that it was time to move on, albeit earlier than she had planned.
In reality, she had plenty of samples. She needed access to a fast, reliable internet connection so she could look into the three organisms that appeared to be related to the Bear Claw fungus, and see if there were any ways to counter those progenitors. Not to mention that if the Bear Claw infection proved to be genetically modified, she would need to report it to the proper authorities. Given the speed of the spread, she intended to keep working on a cure, but she didn’t need to be on-site to do the work. If anything, she was slowing herself down at this point.
And, yeah, that was the opposite of the logic she had used with Chondra last night. She could admit that, at least inwardly, and move on from it.
As the SUV tilted upward once more, entering the last long upgrade that segued into the narrow switchback road to the deserted militia campground, she turned in the passenger seat, shifting to face him and start the conversation that began, “I think it’s time for me to head back to the university.” The fact that she hesitated, knowing how he would see the situation, was added evidence that it was time to leave. She didn’t let anyone—not her bosses or her coworkers, never mind her lovers or friends—make her feel awkward about the way she lived her life, and she didn’t intend to start now.
So stop stalling, she told herself, a little amused to realize she was doing it. A little unnerved, too. “Hey, listen,” she began, “I think—”
“Did you see that?” He eased up on the gas and leaned out the driver’s window to look up. “Sorry,” he said from out there, his words carrying back to her over the engine noise. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“What did you see?” she asked, pitifully willing to be diverted.
“An eagle, I think.”
“A barred eagle?” The not-quite-extinct birds were prominently marked with black-and-white stripes against a mottled brown background. She craned to follow his line of sight. “I haven’t seen one yet.”
Although the birds had been spotted in and around the infection site, they had proven far more elusive than she would have expected, given how often they had been noted in the area right after the militia’s discovery. The hint of a connection stirred in her brain, there and gone so quickly that she didn’t get a chance to grab on to the thought. Not when she was scanning the sky, trying to see the distinctive five-fingered wingspread of a raptor while hanging on to the door handle as Jack sent the SUV into the first of the switchbacks.
“It disappeared beyond that ridge.” He had his eyes back on the road now, but gestured to a low series of rocky hills nearly hidden beneath the green fur of healthy trees that hadn’t yet been hammered by the infection. And wouldn’t be, if she had anything to say about it.
Thinking about the case was a welcome relief in one respect but a major frustration in another: she wasn’t making enough progress and she was running out of time.
An ecosystem is like a rocky wall poised to collapse in a massive avalanche, she remembered one of her professors routinely saying, take out any one type of rock and the whole thing falls apart. The Forgotten was an important ecosystem, not just because of the effect an outbreak could have on Bear Claw Canyon, but because it was home to the only known wild population of barred eagles, which had long been thought extinct, killed by heavy metal poisoning because they preferred to nest near…
“Copper!” she said, straightening suddenly as it clicked into place.
He glanced over and their eyes met for the first time that morning. “What about it?”
“The eagles died off because they liked to nest near the old copper mines, right? Well, we’ve been trying to figure out why the eagles, the fungus and the militia all happened to show up in the same place at the same time. What if the connection is the copper?”
Jack considered it as he swung the SUV along the last of the narrow reversals on the uphill before they crowned the low mountain and started the treacherous downward trail. “There’s never been any evidence of copper deposits—or any real natural resource up in the Forgotten. That’s one of the main reasons nobody ever tried to do anything with the land.”
“Maybe we’re not talking about a deposit. Maybe it’s more diffuse than that, sort of a copper leech field that neither the old-time prospectors nor the newer technologies would consider viable for mining purposes.”
“But then why—” He broke off, expression clearing. “The engineered fungus. You think it’s using the trees to pull the metal up out of the soil? Is that even possible?”
“There are stranger things on heaven and earth, Detective.” Excitement hummed through her now as the connections started lining up. “That explains the eagles, or at least it starts to. Either they’ve been hiding up in the Forgotten all this time, attracted to the diffuse copper deposits, or a remnant population wa
s hiding somewhere else coppery and was drawn to the Forgotten once the fungal infection took hold and started concentrating the metal.”
“You’re sure the fungus is new? Oh, right,” he said, answering his own point. “It’s man-made. Of course it’s new.”
“Exactly. The DNA technology we’re talking about is cutting-edge. Not the splicing and stuff—that’s pretty old-school. But it would have taken some serious knowledge of all three organisms—the bacterium, the fungus and the air plant—to integrate them into a whole new species built for this specific purpose. A whole bunch of labs—including the one I did my thesis work in—are doing similar work to create living biological sensors and scrubbers designed to detect and clean up industrial pollution in rivers and lakes. That’s mostly on the bacterial side of things, though. This is taking it up to a whole new level.”
“Any idea who would be capable of doing the work?”
“Chondra’s putting out feelers. I’ll have a list of names for you by the end of the day.”
The road flattened out at the crest of the high hill, and for a moment, most of the Forgotten was spread out in front of them in a gorgeous vista that today, as every other day for the past three, made her catch her breath in awe.
The dusty road winding downhill, with a rubble-strewn cliff face on one side and a sheer, guardrail-free drop on the other, was a golden ribbon separating the rocky barrens of the mountaintop from the vibrant green forest ecosystems below. In the near distance, another ribbon—this one a deeper, richer bronze punctuated with an occasional glint of gold where the sunlight gleamed off the mud-browned water—snaked among stands of trees that had darker leaves that were hazed with the white of infection, along with the strange patches that indicated where the fungus had died off and the trees had become reinfected. Again, a connection niggled at her brain. This time, though, it refused to come clear.
She sighed. “It really is beautiful out here.”
“That it is,” he said without looking at her. As he let the SUV start down the winding descent, careful to keep the wheels in the hardened ruts, he added, “Please tell me that whoever you’ve got asking questions is being careful. Because if you’re right about all this being connected, those questions could get back to the wrong people.”
It was a good point, she acknowledged with a shimmer of dread. If she was on the right track with the copper, they might be dealing with more than just a lab trying to cover up the escape of a bioengineered organism, but rather its intentional release. “If the militia’s left the Forbidden, though…”
“They might be looking for another place to set up operations, and won’t be too happy about having scientists poking into their business.”
The drought-baked roadway threatened to crumble a little, causing the vehicle to wallow closer to the edge. She clutched at the door handle and sent up a little prayer, but he navigated the treacherous section with the same cool competence he’d shown during their other trips. Once they were past the dangerous section, she said, “Chondra knows that this situation has the potential to get volatile, and is smart enough to keep her head down.”
He nodded. But after a moment, he said, “What I don’t get is, why are they bothering? Copper isn’t particularly valuable, and there have to be easier ways to get it. Is there something special about the way the fungus uses it? Maybe it changes the metal somehow?”
“Beats me. That info is going to have to come from better biochemists than I. My job isn’t to come up with the motive, it’s to figure out how to save your forest.”
“Amen,” he said, and where a few days ago she might have thought he was mocking her, she knew him well enough now to know he was entirely serious. He might be a city boy, but he was at least partly a mountain man at heart.
And she shouldn’t be thinking about his heart—or anything else beyond his bodyguarding skills, for that matter. They had been there, done that, made the decision.
His thoughts must have paralleled hers at least partway, though, because he suddenly said, “Listen, Tori. About last night.”
Her stomach jumped and heat bloomed on her skin, but she didn’t let herself think he wanted anything more than a rehash, or maybe to apologize even though he had nothing to be sorry for. She looked out her side window, where the glory of the Forgotten formed a backdrop for the reflection-shadow of her face, and said, “Let’s just stick to the case, okay? Besides, I think we’ve said what we needed to say…unless you’ve got something new to add?”
He exhaled. “No, but—”
“Then let’s leave it alone.” Where last night at dinner she hadn’t been able to reach out to him, somehow now she could stretch an arm across the wide console that separated them, and grip his shoulder briefly in a one-handed hug. “You’re a good man, Detective. There’s no blame here.”
“Yeah, that’s part of what’s making it so hard.” When she withdrew her hand, he let go of his double-fisted grip on the steering wheel to catch her fingers in his for a moment. “Look, I can’t do things in fast-forward. I’m just not wired that way. But when this is over, if I asked you to stay for a while—”
“I wouldn’t,” she said quickly, not sure if the sudden spurt of heat was from flattery or fear. “I couldn’t.” She tugged her hand away, locked her fingers together in her lap, and stared blankly out the window at a small flock of birds flying below them, in the empty air beyond the cliff. “If I—” she began, but then broke off.
“If you what?”
She hadn’t even been aware of the desire until she started to ask the question and choked on the implications. But there it was suddenly, front and center in her mind, and although she told herself not to bother, that she already knew what the answer would be, she couldn’t not ask. “When this is over, if I asked you to come visit me for a while, would you…”
He blew out a breath and then slowly shook his head. “Probably not.”
“Yeah, figured as much.” She smiled sadly at her own reflection in the glass. Beyond the edge, the birds had angled down and were dropping together like an airplane squadron, headed for a section of white-tinged forest beneath the cliff. “I’m going to miss this place.” And you, she thought but didn’t say because what was the point.
She’d be leaving tomorrow, though she suddenly remembered that she hadn’t actually told him that part. She had been about to, when he’d interrupted her to point out the… Oh, wow! She gaped out the window as the reality connected in her brain. The squadron she’d been watching wasn’t just made of random birds; its members had barred wings and tails, mottled brown bodies and glided on wings that spread out at the ends like five-fingered hands. Those were barred eagles!
The environmentalist in her rejoiced at the sight of so many of the rare birds at one time, while her inner investigator noted that eagles weren’t flocking birds by any stretch of the imagination. So why were they clustering together now?
“Stop!” she said quickly, reaching over to grab Jack’s forearm in her excitement as she pointed. “Look!”
He followed her gesture and his eyes widened. “No kidding. Okay, hang on. Just let me get us to a good stopping place—” He twisted the wheel and pumped the brakes. “And we’ll take a—” With zero warning, the brake pedal went suddenly to the floor and the steering wheel spun without turning the SUV one iota. “No!”
They had lost their steering and brakes!
Eagles forgotten in an instant of pure terror, Tori grabbed the door handle like a lifeline. She thought about jumping, but the cliff was too close on her side, the edge too close on his. They were trapped! Heart leaping into her throat, she managed a strangled gasp of “Jack.”
The SUV was picking up speed, its tires bumping along in the ruts they had been following, but that wouldn’t last long, because less than a half mile away, the road curved back around to the left and disappeared. Beyond the curve, a short section of beaten sand continued on straight, then ended, it seemed, in midair.
He cursed vici
ously and pumped the pedal, then went for the emergency brake and cursed again. Then he shouted, “Hang on!” Grabbing the shift lever, he wrenched the transmission into the lowest driving gear. Something slammed ominously inside the engine and the SUV shuddered and bucked, but the vehicle slowed measurably.
Her heart leaped. “It’s working!”
“Don’t count your eagles,” he said through gritted teeth, shifting his grip on the gear lever, “until…they’re…” He yanked the lever into the Park position. “Hatched!”
A second later, a louder slamming noise drowned him out and was followed by a metal-on-metal grating sound that made her cringe, but the SUV slowed even more. For a second she nearly cheered, thinking that he’d done it, he’d saved them. But then, horribly, the SUV bumped up out of the ruts and slewed sideways, skidding and churning up gravel as it kept going under its own momentum, heading for the curve in the road and the drop-off beyond.
Her breath rattled in her lungs. They weren’t going to make it. They were going to go over the edge and—
Fingers grabbed her hand and dug in with a pressure so intense that it was almost painful, bringing her out of her sudden shocked numbness. She yanked her eyes up to Jack’s, and saw his determination as he popped her belt and then his own, and then dragged her toward him.
That was when she saw his door hanging open, saw the dirt and gravel whipping past. “Oh, God.” The words bled between her lips, dying as her lungs seized up. I can’t, she thought wildly, I—
“Come on! We’ve got to jump!” And somehow the determination in his eyes got her heart pumping and her brain working once more. Hurry. Hurry! She fought to make her arms and legs work so she could scramble across and crouch awkwardly with him, terrifyingly aware that it was almost too late; they were practically on top of the edge. “Go!”
He launched himself away from the SUV, pulling her with him. They landed hard, with her partially on top of him, but still gravel bit into her shoulder and upper arm as inertia slid them toward the edge.
Bear Claw Bodyguard Page 9
