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  “Did he have a falling out with the street kids?” She leaned forward, putting her elbows on the desk.

  “No, he just said it was time. Then he joined the army. We were all in basic together.”

  “That’s where you met them?”

  Finn flashed to David, Michael, and Tim. They’d been thinner than they were now, but were still basically the same people. “Yep.”

  “And you’ve been friends ever since? I can understand. I still keep in touch with the people I met when I joined the marines.” She tilted her head. “What’s he doing at PDE?”

  “He’s doing exactly what he said, gathering evidence.” He didn’t like the idea of Michael working behind the scenes at PDE. It was too dangerous, plus there were legal ramifications, especially in the area of evidence collection procedures.

  “And what makes him qualified to do that?”

  “I’m not sure that he is. He’s with the U.S. Army CID Computer Crime Investigative Unit. His work is classified, but I think if you want to uncover hidden computer files, he’d be the man to find them.”

  A knock sounded at the door.

  “Can you get that? You’re closer.” He grinned, knowing the request would annoy her.

  “I’m moving my desk in here tomorrow, and I’m putting it over there.” She pointed to the window farthest away from the door, and then gave him a look that suggested he was a pile of dung.

  “We have a problem,” Detective Ramirez marched in before Kennedy had a chance to open the door. He slammed the door behind him.

  “What’s wrong?” Finn asked, but he knew it was about Quinn. There were no other cases where their paths crossed.

  He held a manila folder in his hand. “No one’s been assigned to the Wilson kidnapping.”

  “Are you sure?” Kennedy returned to her seat.

  “There’s no file, and I’ve asked every detective on the force.”

  Finn wasn’t surprised. It leant further weight to David’s allegations. “There’s a lot of media coverage. Who instigated that?”

  “As far as I can tell, that’s all been done by PDE.” Ramirez stood next to Kennedy, placing a hand on the back of her chair, crowding her personal space.

  “You think PDE are working the case?” There had to be a reason behind Chief Notley warning him off.

  “That’s how it seems, and there’s more,” Ramirez threw the Manila folder on Finn’s desk. “I contacted Seattle PD to see if they had any info on Wilson. It seems they’ve been trying to get in touch with her. Her house burned down yesterday, and it’s arson.”

  “No, shit.” Finn shouldn’t be surprised, but he was.

  “And I got Wilson’s and Quinn’s financials. There’s nothing in Quinn’s. He doesn’t have any income, but his living expenses are minimal. He owns his land outright, and by my estimation, he has enough in the bank to support himself for another year.”

  “And Wilson?” Kennedy stood and paced to the window.

  Ramirez slumped into the newly vacated chair. “Hers were a little more complicated. She told us she was out of money, that’s why she was here, to get Professor Hargreaves to validate her research so the DOE would give her funding.”

  “That’s right.” Finn wondered if the detective had crowded Kennedy’s space because he wanted to sit down.

  “That’s where it doesn’t add up. She’s a multi-millionaire.”

  “You’re kidding.” Finn leant back, considering the ramifications. Did her wealth have anything to do with the events of the last two days?

  Ramirez opened his folder. “The account she uses for everyday expenses has been completely drained. There’s only eighteen hundred dollars in it, but there’s a trust registered in her name. She was legally allowed access to it when she turned twenty-one.”

  “Do you think she knows about this account?” Kennedy asked as she stared out of the window that overlooked the square.

  “How could she not know she has millions sitting in an account?” Ramirez asked.

  “You’d be surprised what a trustee will do for their percentage.” Kennedy didn’t turn around, but there was something in her demeanor. Her expression was guarded, her features blank, which served to remind Finn she came from money. There was a story there. Something had happened in Kennedy’s past, and although it didn’t have a bearing on the case, it gave her a unique insight into how the wealthy operated.

  Finn forced himself to concentrate on Ramirez. “Who’s the trustee?”

  “That position was held by her father, but now she’s over twenty-one, the money is hers.”

  “Do you think he’s involved?” Kennedy said as she took her phone out and scrolled through the screen.

  “I’m not sure what his deal is. I called him and asked if he’d heard from his daughter.”

  “What did he say?” Finn asked.

  “It seems that Quinn took Dr. Wilson to the airport. He was supposed to put her on a flight to Seattle. The dad sent people to meet her, but she didn’t show. Mr. Wilson, who’s a lawyer by the way, thinks his daughter is trying to obtain money from him.”

  Finn stared at Ramirez and then at Kennedy. “Has there been a ransom demand?”

  “No, but sometimes families don’t come forward in these cases because they’re trying to protect the victim.”

  Finn pictured Marie. She seemed quiet, shy, polite and, in many ways, innocent. “I could be wrong, but Dr. Wilson didn’t seem the type for extortion. And why would she go to those lengths if she has access to millions? I think Kennedy’s right. She doesn’t know she has money, and I think the dad wants to keep it that way. But that’s all supposition.”

  “I agree. I didn’t get that vibe from her, and there’s another thing.”

  Finn sighed. This case was getting more complicated by the minute. “More?”

  “Mr. Wilson spoke to Quinn.”

  “What?” Finn couldn’t hide his surprise.

  “Yeah, he instructed Wilson to go to Seattle airport and meet his daughter personally. He also said she was in trouble because of her solar panel. Now I ask you”— Ramirez thumped the desk—“what kind of a kidnapper doesn’t ask for any money and takes his victim to the airport?”

  Finn glanced at Kennedy, who nodded, silently agreeing to share what they knew with Ramirez. “We don’t think Quinn kidnapped her. We think he’s protecting her.”

  “From whom?” The detective frowned.

  “The police and Public Domain Energy, specifically Marshall Portman.” He placed his phone on his desk and played the messages Quinn had left on his voicemail.

  “Damn it.” Ramirez scrubbed a hand across his face.

  “We’re investigating an allegation of public corruption against the Granite City-Elkhead police department,” Finn stated.

  “Do you know who in the department it is?”

  Kennedy stood next to Finn. “No, and even if we did, we couldn’t tell you.”

  “But everything leads to Marshall Portman being behind it,” Ramirez said, stating the obvious.

  “Do you have proof?” Finn asked. “This isn’t about what we know. It’s about what we can prove.”

  Ramirez didn’t answer, but his unseeing eyes stared at Finn’s desk as his mind seemed to work through the details of the case.

  “Right now I have the testimony of a man who’s been accused of kidnapping,” Finn said, comfortable sharing a fact the detective already knew.

  Kennedy grabbed the remote control on the desk. “There’s more.” She turned on the small television that sat on top of a filing cabinet.

  Finn cringed as a photo of Quinn in his dress uniform flashed on the screen, alongside a picture of him with long hair and a beard, grabbing Marie. The reporter told of David’s exploits in Afghanistan and the incident that ended his career.

  “But that’s not true,” Ramirez said.

  “And the Department of Defense isn’t in the habit of sharing that type of information. It seems to me that someone’s working har
d to destroy Quinn.”

  “Maybe there’s more in his records. I’ll see what I can dig up,” Ramirez offered.

  “Good idea, but this doesn’t have anything to do with him, does it?” Kennedy said, while pacing the length of the room.

  “What do you mean?” Ramirez swiveled in his chair, giving her his full attention.

  She stared at Finn. “Well, the professor who was supposed to validate her research is dead. There was a home invasion, and the perpetrators were after her solar panel. Quinn saved her and got her away. I think he told the truth when he said he took her to the airport. I think they tried to grab her again—”

  “You think they’re using Quinn’s history as a distraction to stop people from asking questions about Wilson.” Finn finished her train of thought. “My guess is that her solar panel doesn’t just work. It works really well.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  It was snowing by the time David parked the old jeep, burying the front end in snow. Tim had leant them the only spare vehicle at the ranch that still worked, but unfortunately it was painted bright blue. The color made it almost impossible to hide. It would be clearly visible to any passerby, but judging by the condition of the road, which was knee deep in snow, he doubted anyone had come this way in a while.

  He glanced at the sky. With the cloud cover, it was hard to tell the time of day, but he estimated it would be dark in an hour, maybe less.

  He left Marie in the truck while he scouted the small, A-frame cabin. It was a log construction with a green corrugated roof.

  There were no tracks in the fresh snow around the house except his. He strained to hear, listening for any sounds in the frozen, still air. A raven took flight, screeching into the evening sky, and then there was silence.

  The blizzard had covered one side of the roof and piled snow four feet high against the front of the house. Which told him no one had used the building in the last twenty-four hours. Using his boots, he kicked away as much snow as he could and opened the door.

  From the corner of his eye, he caught a movement. Marie stood at the edge of the clearing, waiting for him. Damn it, he should’ve known she wouldn’t remain in the car. She seemed determined to stay close to him, probably because she felt safer by his side.

  The long day had caught up to him. He’d had long days when he lived on the streets, and then when he’d been in Special Forces. There were days when he was so hungry he’d eaten snow just to have something in his stomach. Nights when he was so cold he was scared he’d freeze to death in his sleep. But today had kicked him in the teeth. It was the emotional upheaval. The stress of their situation had worn him down and affected his critical thinking. On a logical level, he understood the psychology. Fighting it was something else entirely. He was so tired that every footstep was a hard-fought battle. He wanted to lie down where he stood and sleep. The fact that he couldn’t see any way to resolve their situation added to his malaise.

  He sniffed the interior. A small critter could leave a strong odor, but a large one, like a bear or a cougar, would stink the place out. Surprisingly, the cabin had a lemon scent. He smiled as he spotted a car air freshener hanging above the sink.

  The little house was dark with the only light coming from the open door and a small window, but it was cleaner than he expected. There was a loft, which hopefully held a bed. A log wall ran the length of the main floor with a stone fireplace at the center. A couch sat facing the fire. The rear of the living space was divided. One side held a small bathroom with a sink and a composting toilet. The other side opened into a kitchenette, with a hotplate, a sink, and a propane-powered fridge. Everything was neat and orderly.

  He signaled for Marie, letting her know it was safe. She’d been quiet on the way up, having turned in on herself. She’d been supportive at Tim’s, but now that the reality of who he was had sunk in, she probably had doubts about spending time with him. At least his past was out in the open and she understood it was in his nature to survive no matter what the cost.

  Marie stood at the door holding the heavy tray of food Tim had cooked for them.

  “You could’ve left that in the jeep. I would’ve carried it in.”

  She kicked off her snow-covered boots and placed the dish on the table near the kitchen. “It’s chicken and vegetables with rosemary, basil, and oregano.” She lifted the lid and sniffed, “I think there’s balsamic vinegar in here, too. I’m going to eat it. If you want some, you have to hurry.”

  Maybe he was wrong, and she wasn’t concerned about him. He had no clue what she was thinking or how her mind worked. She was unpredictable in the most disarming way.

  She finished munching on a piece of mushroom. “I’m serious. This meal is too delicious to wait. If we don’t eat soon, I might rebel.”

  Despite his mood, his lips curved in a smile. “Rebel how?”

  “Instead of allowing you to be all silent and moody, I might insist you tell me all your secrets.”

  “And how are you going to get me to talk?”

  She crossed her arms and raised one eyebrow. “I’m going to seduce you.”

  “Damn, that’s despicable.”

  “I know. Let’s do what needs to be done so we can sit and eat.” She grinned, and his breath caught. God, she was gorgeous. Her short wavy hair curled around her ears, making her seem even younger.

  He considered going to her and unzipping her coat, but then shook away any thoughts of sex. They were hungry, tired, and on the verge of collapse. When he made love to her, he wanted to please her, and he had serious doubts about his ability to do that at the moment. “Do you know how to set up a fire?”

  “I’ll manage.”

  He smiled. She would, too. He had no doubt she could accomplish anything once she set her mind to it. “I have to check the propane tank at the side of the house. Then I’m going to take some time to scope out the area. I’ll be a while, okay?

  She nodded. “Don’t take too long. I meant what I said about eating without you.”

  He waded through the knee-high snow to the side of the house. Crouching, he tapped the gauge on the industrial-sized tank—half full.

  He stood listening. Everything was still, silent. He made his way to the back of the cabin. There were no tracks, not even from a deer. He continued walking, circling the clearing. The news story had done a number on him, and he wasn’t sure how to react. He’d gone over that night in Afghanistan a thousand times, wondering if he could have done things differently, and he still didn’t have any answers. The man he’d become sickened him.

  It wasn’t so much the killing. Once again his logical mind kicked in. Heffermint had not only killed two of his brother’s-in-arms, he had also given away their position, and another four men had been injured in the ensuing firefight. What sickened David was the fact he had acted without thinking. His survival instinct was so strong that his first reaction had been to shoot to kill. It wasn’t that he was wrong. It was that he wasn’t the man he wanted to be. He wasn’t husband and father material. He lived in fear that one day he would react with deadly force and hurt someone he loved. That was why he’d sworn off weapons. It wasn’t that he couldn’t kill. He just didn’t want to.

  He finished checking the perimeter and headed for the truck to gather the rest of their stuff.

  ****

  Marie set the logs in a crisscross pattern in the fireplace and shoved some kindling in the cracks.

  David had retrieved their meager supplies from the Jeep, including the box with her prototype. She’d told both David and Tim that she needed to keep it as proof. Now she wondered if that was a lie she told herself so she could rationalize lugging around her life’s work. Her life’s work? It was just a solar panel. It had caused the death of two men and had also cost David his good name, his life, and future.

  When her ex-professor and lover, Daniel, had claimed her work as his own, he had destroyed her reputation as a scientist and made her a pariah. She’d worked to prove her theories and r
eestablish her standing in the scientific community. Now, two men were dead and lives destroyed because she wanted to restore her status.

  David had been tense since they’d left Tim’s, and she wondered if he was still thinking about the news story. The reporter’s version of David’s service festered in her stomach, making her want to call her father and demand he sue the network. She pictured her only relative. If he knew she was in love, he’d remind her of her past mistakes and that all men had ulterior motives. But then her father was a remote and manipulative man who assumed everyone was like him. She understood David’s reserve was the result of trauma, and not an attempt to control her.

  It was strange how comfortable she was in his company. She’d been on her own for a long time. Being with him had changed all that; she didn’t want to be alone anymore. She wanted him, not just his body. That was a lie. She wanted to touch, feel, and explore every inch of him. She wanted to know him on a very intimate level, but for her, that intimacy could only come with an emotional bond. She wasn’t experienced when it came to men, but she knew herself. The reason Daniel’s betrayal had cut her so deeply was because she’d been in love with him. For her, sex and love went hand in hand. It was hard to believe she had known David for less than two days, and she was already thinking in terms of love, but as things stood, they really didn’t have time to waste. They could’ve been killed in the attack this morning, and if they died tomorrow, she’d be sorry if she squandered a second of her time with him.

  She lit the fire as he kicked off his boots and threw his coat over a chair. “We have half a tank of Propane. It’s a good size, not huge, but bigger than you’d use for your barbeque. Which means we can cook on the stove and heat water for washing.” He rubbed his hands together to warm them. “Have you started eating yet?”

  “No, I waited for you.” She couldn’t muster a smile. The events of the last two days had conspired to rob her of her energy.

  “Tired?” He sat at the table.