Fire and Ice (Buchanan-Renard #7)

Fire and Ice (Buchanan-Renard #7) Page 24

Jack gave up trying to make his point. He could tell this was going the route of the “You would have looked, too” argument she’d used after she was shot.

Sophie now walked to the cafeteria window and stared outside. “Do you know it’s against the law to lock your car doors here?” she asked.

“Yeah?”

“It’s true. It’s because of bears. I guess if you run into one, or one happens to be chasing you, you jump in a car.” She sighed and turned around. Jack stood just a foot away. “I should have checked him out,” she admitted.

He pulled her into his arms and rubbed his chin against the top of her head. “Yeah, you should have,” he agreed. “Any other interesting facts you want to share?”

“Most foxes carry rabies.”

“Good to know.”

“The Barrow Whalers made the play-offs.”

“The who?”

“The Whalers. They’re the high school football team in Barrow. You’ll probably get to meet some of them. They’re a new team, and football has made a positive impact on the lives of these boys. I promised Mr. Bitterman I’d write their story.”

“So we’re going to Barrow, huh?”

“Yes.”

JACK WAS PREOCCUPIED at dinner, but Sophie didn’t mind. It had been a long day, and she was weary.

They returned to their rooms, and Sophie went into the bathroom to get ready for bed. After showering, she opened the bathroom door into Jack’s room and overheard him talking on the phone. “It has to be connected” was all she managed to hear. Who was he talking to, and what had to be connected?

Jack looked up and smiled when he saw her. She wasn’t wearing a skimpy nightgown, but she was just as sexy in her oversized, blue and white cotton pajamas. And fuzzy pink socks. After he finished his call, he took his turn in the shower.

The wind was picking up outside, and the window rattled. Sophie had read somewhere that the winds could get as strong as a hundred miles an hour. The thought made her shiver.

The bed wasn’t a double or a twin, but something in between. She pulled back the covers and stretched out on top, leaning against the headboard. Her mind wouldn’t quiet down, racing from one thought to another. If the man calling himself Paul Larson was playing a joke, what was the point? Why go to all that trouble? There must be a reason. Had any polar bears ever gotten inside the hotel? She should have asked Zester.

Sophie was rubbing on hand lotion that smelled of jasmine when Jack entered her room. He obviously didn’t mind the chill in the air. He wore just shorts and a T-shirt.

“Aren’t you cold?” she asked.

“I’ll get warm in a minute. Did you set your alarm? We’re getting up early.”

Sophie noticed him staring at her socks. She felt a little silly, but what did she care? She had made up her mind to keep their relationship simple and professional.

No, not relationship. Association.

“The phone calls were made from Fairbanks,” he told her before he reached down and pulled one pink sock off, then the other.

“So Larson had no intention of meeting my plane tonight?” she asked. “What was the point? Don’t you think that was a rather strange prank?”

Jack went to the door to make sure it was locked. “I don’t know what his motive was, but I’m going to find out.”

Sophie got under the covers. The sheets were cold. Jack was walking toward his room when she remembered the ad Mr. Bitterman had mentioned.

She told Jack about Kelly’s Root Beer, then asked, “What do you think?”

“I’d like to see the ad.”

He disappeared into his bedroom, and Sophie felt a pang of disappointment. She wasn’t going to let him sleep with her. Still, it would have been nice if he’d asked. A minute later, Jack came back carrying his gun and holster. He didn’t ask permission to join her. He put his gun on the table next to her pillow, pulled the covers back, and told her to scoot over.

He slid in next to her and turned toward the wall with his back to her. The heat radiating from his body warmed her in no time at all. She slipped her hands under his T-shirt. “I didn’t say you could sleep with me,” she whispered against his neck as she cuddled up against him.

“Go to sleep.” He reached over and turned out the light.

“Jack?” Sophie said in the darkness. “I’m a terrible reporter, aren’t I?”

JOURNAL ENTRY 702

CHICAGO

Eric and I are weary from our trip, but it’s been worth it. We’ve found a buyer. Our contacts in Asia and Europe produced nothing. Don’t know why we didn’t think of the Middle East in the first place.

To the Dubai billionaire, fifty million means nothing, and he was willing to agree to it on the spot. All he requires is that we give him hard data on our human experiments.

I’ve been having dreams about how I’ll spend my share. Always wanted to visit Fiji. If the sands are soft and the women softer, I may just stay there.

TWENTY-SEVEN

JACK DIDN’T EMBELLISH OR COMPLIMENT HER ON HER REPORTING skills. He simply answered her question. “You’re not a terrible reporter.”

A few minutes passed. Sophie asked, “How many brothers do you have?”

“Three.”

“Any sisters?”

“No.”

Jack slowly turned toward her. He was a big man, and the bed was small. He rolled Sophie toward him so that she rested on his side.

“Why all the questions?” he asked, his face close, their eyes meeting in the dark.

“You know everything there is to know about me, and I don’t know much about you.”

“Yeah, you do. You know where I grew up, where I went to school, and when I joined the FBI. You also know I like the way you kiss me.”

She smiled. “Good night, Jack.”

He laughed. “Good night, Sophie.”

Jack made it until around two in the morning, and then Sophie began to move restlessly against him. He wasn’t sure if she was awake or asleep, but after removing her clothes without any resistance, he didn’t care. It was his turn to seduce her. And, ah man, it was better than the first time. She was so responsive to his touch, and he loved the sexy sounds she made when his fingers caressed her. This time he made sure she cl**axed before he did, and when at last he found release, she squeezed him tight inside her. And that was better, too.

He was just drifting off to sleep when a thought popped into his head. Had he done the seducing, or had she?

DENY, DENY, DENY.

Again Sophie was furious at her lack of self-control. Why couldn’t she keep her hands off Jack? If they were in Chicago, it would be so much easier to stay away from him, but here they were forced to be together. Fortunately, he respected her unspoken decision not to mention last night’s activities.

Chipper was waiting for them by his plane. He stowed their luggage while Sophie climbed into the backseat. Jack took the seat by the pilot, and while they were waiting for Chipper to finish his checklist, Jack asked Sophie if she was feeling okay.

“I’m fine. Why would you think I wasn’t? Do I look like I’m not fine?” She couldn’t stop blathering. “Why do you ask?”

“You’ve been unusually quiet, that’s all, and yeah, Sophie, you look fine, considering neither of us got much sleep with the—”

“Barrow is considered a desert, did you know that?”

Jack grinned. She was once again pretending that nothing had happened. “It is?” he asked.

“Yes. It gets very little rainfall, but lots of snow. Temperatures drop below zero in early October and stay down until the end of May or early June. It never gets warm.”

Chipper climbed into the plane, heard Sophie’s last comment, and added, “Barrow generally gets around seven inches of snow in October. It’s not snowing today, though, not yet anyway.”

“Jack wants to see the ocean,” Sophie told Chipper. “His ideal vacation is to sit and watch it.”

“You’re in luck then,” Chipper said. “The ocean’s on three sides of Barrow. You’ll get to look at it every which way you turn.”

Because of crosswinds, the flight to Barrow ended up being even bumpier than the one to Deadhorse, and Sophie’s stomach did a couple of flips. She was, however, willing to delay their landing when Chipper insisted on circling so that Jack could see the ocean up close.

Barrow wasn’t a fancy place, but the people were the warmest she had ever met. Everyone was friendly and helpful. They were proud of their city, and they were especially proud of their football team. Sophie had called ahead, and the coach was waiting to greet them. She interviewed him about the boys on his team and their backgrounds, but it was Jack who knew what questions to ask about the games. While the men discussed the season, she took notes.

Coach Smith told them about the first game the Whalers had won. It was quite an event in the small community. The players and coaches had celebrated by jumping into the Arctic Ocean. A pizza party wouldn’t have been enough? Sophie wondered.

The coach called a couple of his players over to talk to Jack and Sophie. While they were with the boys, Sophie noticed two teenage girls sitting on the sideline with their heads together, laughing. One girl stood up and the other pushed her friend toward the field, giving her the nudge to approach them. The girl slowly came closer and closer, until she was standing just a few feet behind Jack.

She gently tapped Jack on the shoulder. “Excuse me,” she said shyly.

Jack turned around. “Yes?” he said.

“My friend and I were wondering…” she began. She looked back at her companion who was gesturing for her to continue. “We were wondering if you’re that guy on YouTube.”

Sophie burst out laughing.

Jack patiently talked to the girl for a few minutes, and after thanking Coach Smith for his time, he quickly ushered Sophie off the field.

“I really must see this video,” she said.

Jack was not amused, but Sophie was still laughing as they walked into a nearby restaurant.

A couple who were having lunch at the next table struck up a conversation and were glad to talk about their community. They had lived in Barrow all their lives and were able to give Sophie some interesting background for her story. They suggested places to stay the night, and Jack chose the one closest to the restaurant.

By the time Jack and Sophie walked to the hotel, they were frozen to the bone.

Jack paced in the lobby trying to get warm. “Couldn’t do it. Couldn’t do it,” he repeated.

“Couldn’t do what?”

“Live here. The cold would kill me.”

“It’s not so bad. After all, Chicago’s winters are no cakewalk.”

“Your lips are blue,” he countered.

“After we get our rooms, I’d like to walk around town and talk to some more people.”

“We’re getting one room, not two, and we’re not walking anywhere, Sophie, we’ll find a ride to the police station. The headquarters for Deadhorse and the other northern towns is here in Barrow. I want to talk to them about Harrington.”

Unfortunately, the police couldn’t tell them anything they didn’t already know. Harrington’s death, they had concluded, was unfortunate, but it had been an act of nature. The file was closed.

Sophie asked them how she could get in touch with Joe Rooney, the officer who had called her to identify Harrington.

“Joe lives just outside of Barrow,” the officer told her. “He’s off this week, but I’m sure if we gave him a call, he’d come in to talk to you.”

When Jack asked how Harrington would have reached the remote spot where he was camped, one of the officers suggested the possibility that Harrington had flown on a commercial flight to Fair banks and then chartered a small plane to Inook.

“That’s the closest village to Harrington’s campsite. Few people live in Inook. Someone there would certainly have seen him. Small planes fly in with supplies. I’ll bet he was a passenger on one of them. That would be easy enough to check.”

“How close to the ocean was he?” Sophie asked.

“Real close,” the officer replied, turning and pointing to the map pinned to the wall.

Later that evening, Jack slid into bed beside Sophie and took her into his arms. This double bed wasn’t as cramped as the night before, but he still wanted her close to him.

“Tomorrow we’ll talk to Rooney, and afterward we’ll fly to Inook, but then home, Sophie. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” she said.

Sophie didn’t fall asleep for a long while. Her thoughts were on Harrington. He hadn’t gone camping voluntarily. She was sure of it. He was all about labels and country clubs and impressing people with his money. Camping on his own? No way. Something or someone had drawn him to that barren, frozen place.

Everyone she spoke to was quick to write him off, and she could understand their rationale. But a doubt gnawed at her. She couldn’t tie up Harrington’s death in a neat package and let it go. Sophie was determined to get to the truth.

JOURNAL ENTRY 748

ARCTIC CAMP

We’ve been back in camp for a week now.

K-74 has exceeded our wildest dreams. Ricky’s stronger and more alert than ever. Fortunately, Brandon and Kirk are off with their little study and won’t be nosing around. Eric wants to speed things up with the human data. I have to be the patient and thorough one. If I don’t rein him in, I’m afraid he’ll run off cockeyed and screw up this deal for both of us.

Nerves are on edge all the way around. I wish we could get rid of Brandon and Kirk. Their high-handed, self-righteous opinion of themselves is getting a little old. They think the world will bow to them when it reads their research. If they only knew how menial their work is compared to ours.

Brandon’s been the worst. He whines constantly about the pressure he’s getting from the foundation to get something published. His anxiety has been a real pain in the backside for the rest of us. He hasn’t slept a wink while he’s been here—working nonstop. Can’t say that I sympathize. He acts as though he’s so important and the rest of us are just riding his coattails.

TWENTY-EIGHT

JACK HAD A LOT ON HIS MIND. HE CHECKED IN WITH THE Chicago FBI office and spoke with one of the agents who was gathering information for him, then called Officer Joe Rooney at his home and set up a time to meet.

It was easier for Rooney to come to them as he lived several miles southwest of Barrow in an area that was difficult to navigate for anyone who didn’t know his way around. Besides, he was a newlywed, and his wife wanted to do some shopping. They agreed to meet at Rooney’s favorite restaurant, the Red Seal Café.