Against the Wild (14 page)

Her eyes widened. “You aren't thinking it's someone who works for you?”

“It's a possibility I'm not willing to overlook.”

“Oh, Dylan.”

“We're going to search outside this morning, see if we can find a tunnel that leads into the house.”

“I think you should go to the police. We know the house isn't haunted. We know someone is playing a very serious hoax. The police can help us find out who it is.”

“I'd like to meet with the elders first. Everyone in Yeil probably knows the story of the murders. Maybe someone there will know who's behind this. If there's any way to handle the problem ourselves, I'd rather keep the police out of it.”

She wasn't sure that was a good idea. But Dylan had a business to run. And she was beginning to realize how independent and self-sufficient the people who lived in the Alaskan wilderness were.

Dylan bent his head and softly kissed her. “You'd better get dressed. If you don't, you won't be getting out of here for at least another half hour.”

Lane grinned. “You're insatiable, you know that?”

He cocked an eyebrow meaningfully in her direction.

“Okay, I see you're point, but I didn't plan for that to happen, either.”

Dylan chuckled and headed for the door. It closed softly behind him as he returned to work.

As soon as he was gone, Lane headed back to the bathroom, her body pulsing softly, reminding her of their unplanned encounter. Dylan Brodie was the sexiest man she had ever met. Even Jason hadn't been able to stir her body the way Dylan could.

Guilt slipped through her. Comparing the two men was wrong and completely unfair. She had loved Jason. She only lusted after Dylan.

Or was it more than that?

A sliver of unease went through her. The consequences of falling in love with Dylan would be dire for both of them. She couldn't stay here. He couldn't leave. And there was Emily to think of. Lane refused to do anything that would hurt Dylan's little girl.

She could handle it, she told herself. She just had to be careful.

Dressed at last, her hair pulled into a ponytail, she headed downstairs, her body still humming with remnants of sexual pleasure. She hoped it didn't show on her face.

Her stomach rumbled. She'd missed breakfast, but there was always something to eat in the kitchen. She grabbed a leftover biscuit and went into the office, sat down and booted up her laptop.

She needed a little girl talk. Lane opened her e-mail and started typing a message to her partner and friend, Haley Brodie. She wanted to update her friend on the nonexistent ghost, check on her business, and see how the newlyweds were getting along.

One thing she knew for sure. If Ty Brodie was as hot in bed as his ruggedly handsome cousin, Haley was doing just fine.

Dylan grabbed his cell phone, punched in his brother's number, and headed outside to get some fresh air.

Nick answered on the second ring. “Hey, 'bout time you called. It's been so long I was about to break down and call
you
.”

His brother, one year younger, was an ex-Army Ranger, a homicide detective in Anchorage. Or he had been, until he'd helped apprehend a killer who was torturing and murdering young women. The job, combined with his years of fighting in Iraq and Afghanistan, had begun to weigh on his mind. A few months back, Nick had taken a hiatus, bought a place a few miles north of Anchorage, and was doing his best to recover from a heavy dose of burnout.

“Been meaning to phone,” Dylan said. “Kind of got sidetracked.”

“With the pretty lady from L.A.?”

Dylan chuckled. The last time they'd talked he had mentioned Lane Bishop, the interior designer from Beverly Hills he had hired. His brother, knowing him a little too well and being a former detective, had apparently checked out Lane's website. One look at her picture and he had assumed Dylan's interest went beyond remodeling the lodge.

“She's an interesting woman,” Dylan said, “and good at her job.”

“And . . . ?”

“And that's all you need to know. How are things up there?”

“Quiet. It's a nice change after being a cop for so long.” Not to mention Nick's years in Special Forces.

“I'm surprised you aren't getting bored.”

The silence on the other end of the line told Dylan he probably wasn't too far off the mark. Sitting around the house wasn't his brother's style, even if he had convinced himself it was.

“Listen, I've got a problem,” Dylan said. “I thought you might be up for giving me a little advice.”

“Fire away,” Nick said.

For the next few minutes, Dylan filled his brother in on the hoax, and the vandalism that had caused his crew to walk off the job.

He could almost hear Nick's mind spinning on the other end of the line.

“If this has been happening for as many years as you think it has, it isn't personal,” Nick said. “There's got to be something else going on. You need to find out what it is.”

“Yeah, and who the hell is behind it,” Dylan added.

“That's right. So far no one's been hurt, but I can tell you from experience that can change in a heartbeat. This sounds like a pretty elaborate hoax. There's a reason for it. Until you find out what it is, stay alert.”

It was good advice. But then that was the reason he had called. “We're being careful,” Dylan said. “I'm hoping to talk to someone in authority in Yeil, see if they can help us find out what's going on.”

“You want me to come down there? You know I will.”

“I know that. I'll let you know if I need you.”

“Okay, but don't wait too long.” Nick signed off and Dylan ended the call. He hadn't missed the worry in his brother's voice. They needed answers. They needed this to end—before someone got hurt.

 

 

Caleb returned from the five-mile trip to Yeil just before noon. Dylan and Paddy had been going through the house, looking for other surveillance equipment and thankfully finding none.

“I talked to Andy Payuk,” Caleb said to Dylan, referring to a framer on the construction crew. “I told him it was all a hoax, told him we had proof, and asked him if he could set up a meeting with his grandfather.”

Dylan nodded. “Jacob Payuk's a powerful man in Yeil.”

“I've met him once or twice. Andy's supposed to call me this afternoon with a time for us to meet.”

“Sounds good.”

With the meeting coming together, Dylan, Caleb, and Paddy went outside to search for a tunnel or some other way of getting inside the house. Each armed with a flashlight, they split up, Caleb checking the grounds, Dylan searching the two-car garage under the house. Paddy searched the empty cabins.

The garage, a big empty space beneath one end of the lodge, had yielded nothing. He was just walking back outside when his friend appeared.

“I think I've found it,” Caleb said. “I don't know how we missed it yesterday, but we did.”

Dylan followed him around to the north side of the lodge, where he stopped in front of a pair of bushy shrubs against the outside wall. Leaning forward, his black braids sliding around his shoulders, he shoved the bushes aside, and a small wooden door appeared.

“It's well hidden,” Dylan said. “Only four feet high, same cedar as the lodge. It blends right in. Unless we'd pulled up the shrubs, we never would have noticed it. You know where it leads?”

“Not yet. Figured you'd want to be here when I went in.”

There was no lock on the door. Dylan lifted the wrought-iron latch and pushed, and the door swung open, the rusty hinges recently oiled and making not a sound. There were stairs leading down into a remote section of the basement. He and Caleb followed them down.

Dylan shined his flashlight around the rock walls, spotted a set of wooden shelves at the opposite end. “The damned basement's so big I never paid any attention to this area.”

“Plus, if I remember right, the boiler's on the other side of those shelves. This old storeroom is tucked away and probably hasn't been used in years.” Caleb shined his light around the musty room that was no more than eight by eight feet square. Inside the room, hidden behind the battered wooden shelves, sat two folding chairs, a card table, and a desk lamp.

Dylan reached down and clicked on the lamp, lighting the small, dusty chamber. “Two chairs, probably two people,” he said. He shined his light on the table. A thin layer of dust formed a square where a laptop had been sitting.

“This is it. My guess, they had a computer right here. That's what they used to run their equipment.”

“Probably took it and cleared out when they figured out we were onto them.”

“Which means,” Lane said, having followed them into the low-ceilinged room, “they won't be back.”

Caleb sighed. “I guess that's something.”

But Dylan felt a trickle of unease. He had hoped to catch the bastards sneaking back into the house. Until they caught whoever was behind the hoax, there was no telling what they might do.

He walked over to the wooden shelves and shoved. They moved a couple of feet, creating enough of an opening that anyone in the room could walk into the basement on the other side.

“Through the outside door into the basement,” he said, calculating the route, “then up the back stairs to the ground-floor entrance in the guest wing. They could unlock windows, turn pictures upside down. Once they had the holographic apparatus installed in the attic, they could turn it off and on wirelessly with the laptop.”

“And view the mini-cam,” Lane added.

“And play their recordings,” Caleb finished.

“We need to lock this place down good and tight. I don't want them getting back in.”

“I can handle that,” Caleb said. “Then we'll be able to sleep tonight.”

Dylan's mind shot forward to the evening and having Lane back in his bed. At least there was some good news.

“Let's get the hell out of here,” he said, urging her back the way they had come, and they all headed out through the little door.

 

 

Rex called from the lab in Juneau that afternoon. “It's blood, all right,” he said, “but not of the human variety. It's pig's blood.”

Sitting in the office, Dylan felt a wave of relief. “That's good news.”

“Yeah, at least you know these guys aren't out there hacking people up.”

Dylan smiled. “Not so far. I really appreciate this, buddy. I won't forget that weekend I owe you.”

Rex chuckled. “Sarah would love it, and maybe you and I could get in a little fishing.”

“Count on it. I'll keep you posted.” Dylan ended the call and shoved his cell phone back into the pocket of his jeans just as Caleb and Lane walked into the office.

“Your friend at the lab?” Lane asked.

Dylan nodded. “Rex says the writing on the wall was pig's blood.”

Lane plopped down in the chair in front of her laptop. “That's a relief.”

“Yeah,” Caleb agreed. “And guess where they raise pigs?”

“I'm betting on Yeil,” Dylan said.

“Yup. It's kind of a local endeavor. Homegrown pork is popular. Winnie buys it at the market once in a while. Wouldn't be hard to get your hands on enough blood to write that message.”

“Any word from Payuk?” Dylan asked.

“Andy called this morning. His granddad's out of town, but he'll be back late tomorrow night. Andy talked to him on the phone. He can see us Monday morning.”

“I guess we can hold on till then.”

“I got the entrance to the basement locked down. No way those bastards are getting in here again.”

“Well, that's one problem solved.”

“I was kind of wondering . . .” Caleb said. “It's Saturday. I was planning to make the drive into Waterside, come back in the morning. I'll cancel my date if you think you might need me.”

Dylan's mouth edged up. “Which one is it? Jenny or Holly?”

“It's Jenny, smart-ass. If you think it's safe for me to leave, I'm taking her to the show.”

“Whoever is behind all this, they've never used violence. We'll be fine.”

“You sure?”

“I've got my Browning twelve-gauge in the gun safe along with the .44 Mag I carry for bear protection in the woods. I'll take them upstairs before I go to bed.”

“So you're okay with me leaving?”

Dylan cocked an eyebrow and Caleb smiled. “You're right. I wouldn't want to be on the other end of your .44 or your shotgun.” He tipped his head toward Lane. “Dylan's lived in Alaska all his life. He's a crack shot with just about anything, even a bow and arrow.”

Lane smiled. “I had a feeling I'd be safe.”

“Safe from intruders, at least.” Caleb winked, and Lane blushed. Dylan cast a warning glance at his friend.

“I'd better get going,” Caleb said unrepentantly. “I'll see you in the morning.” He headed for the office door.

“I like him,” Lane said as Caleb's retreating figure disappeared. “He seems like a really good guy.”

“Caleb's the best. He's smart and loyal. I'd trust him with my life.” Dylan smiled. “He's a little too good-looking, but the ladies don't seem to mind.”

Lane cocked an eyebrow. “So he has two girlfriends?”

“Not exactly. He's been seeing a little blond schoolteacher in town. Holly's his ex. I have a hunch she isn't happy he's seeing someone else. Jenny's great, but Holly's bad news.”

“If Caleb's as smart as you think, he'll figure that out.”

Dylan grunted. “Long as he keeps thinking with his big head instead of his little one, he'll be fine.”

Lane laughed. It was Saturday, but both of them were working. They got back to it. There was plenty to do.

 

 

It was after 10
PM
. The show at the Waterside Theatre,
Pirates of the Caribbean
, was over. It was an older release, but the theater often ran old movies, and even the new films were at least six months old. No one seemed to mind.

Caleb sat across from Jenny Larsen at the Silver Salmon Bar and Grill, the place locals gathered for conversation, a hamburger or pizza, and a pitcher of beer. The decor wasn't much, just a bar with a row of stools, a wood stove against the wall, and a room full of tables and chairs. But a digital jukebox sat in the corner and someone was always feeding it money.

Caleb looked over at Jenny. She was fair and slender, with a pretty face and big blue eyes that tilted upward at the corners. She was smiling at him softly, still a little shy around him.

“So what'd you think of the movie?” he asked as they waited for their pizza to arrive.

“That's the second time I've seen it. I love Johnny Depp.”

He chuckled, took a sip of his beer, Alaskan Amber, a local favorite. “He makes a great pirate.”

She looked up at him with those big pixie eyes and he felt a little kick.

“You'd make a great pirate,” she said. “Let's see. . . . You're tall, dark, and handsome, and you have a ton of sex appeal.”

He grinned. “You think so?”

“Long black hair, sexy dark eyes. Put an earring in your ear, you'd steal the heart of every woman in the theater.”

His gaze sharpened on her face. “Then maybe I should carry you off someplace and have my way with you.”

Jenny blushed. She was a really sweet girl. He'd been taking it slow with Jenny. She deserved more than a one-night stand. But tonight, he found himself wanting to take the next step, explore the attraction he felt for her that grew every time they were together.

“I don't know if I'm ready for that,” she said, reading his mind and glancing away.

Caleb reached across the table and took her hand. “I want you, Jenny. I'm not going to lie about it. But I'm not going to rush you. When you're ready, we'll see if this thing between us is real.”

She looked up at him earnestly. “It's real for me, Caleb. It didn't take me long to figure out what kind of man you are. A man I can trust and respect. I just need to be sure it's right.”

He nodded, squeezed her hand. He liked that she wanted something more than just sex. He liked that she valued herself highly enough to believe she deserved more than that.

They started talking about what was happening in their lives, Jenny telling him about the antics of a cute little first-grade boy in her class, Caleb telling her about the fake ghost and haunting at the lodge.

“We're going to find out who's involved,” he said. “Once we do, they'll be lucky if Dylan doesn't press charges.” He started to say something more, glanced up as a shadow fell across the table.