Chilled (A Bone Secrets Novel) (12 page)

Ryan had a way of talking to everyone like they were his best friends. She’d never known anyone who could put people at ease as fast as Ryan. Apparently, his skills had worked on Alex. Alex was proving to be a commendable member of the group. What he lacked in outdoor skills he made up for in simple
persistence. He hadn’t let Thomas get the best of him with that slide trick. He’d let Ryan talk his ear off without coming to blows. He deferred to Jim in all decisions.
Well, since that first decision anyway.
And he didn’t treat her as a helpless female like some of the other SAR team members she’d worked with.

Except when he’d hauled her frozen ass off that log bridge. But she
had been
a helpless female at that point.

And he liked her dog; that gave him lots of points.

Kiana liked him back. Of course, Kiana liked everybody. She gave Thomas a wide berth for reasons unknown, but she joyfully accepted everyone else.

Brynn’s heart contracted painfully. What was Alex thinking as he worked his way down the mountain? With no answers to Jim’s calls, he had to know his friend probably hadn’t survived. All odds were against them finding a survivor in the wreck. Especially if it had gone down as roughly as it looked.

She watched Alex wipe at the sweat on his brow and saw his hand shake.

“Hey.” She surprised herselfby speaking and laying a hand on his arm. “Why don’t you stay back until I check the wreckage?”

His brows went up. “It’s all right. I’m good with it.”

“No, seriously. Why don’t you hang back for a few minutes?” When he’d first told them about his friend on the plane, he’d briefly revealed a soul-deep ache in his eyes that still echoed in her memory. Obviously there’d been a tight bond between him and the other agent.

“He’s a good friend, right?”

Alex seemed confused for a split second. “Oh. Yeah, he
was
a good friend.” Brynn couldn’t identify the emotion that flashed on his face, and it stabbed at her soul that he’d already referred to the marshal in past tense.

Jim and Thomas were nearly to the cockpit. She watched as they both drew their weapons. She shook her head.

“They’re doing the right thing.” Alex’s face showed no emotion as he watched the men. He imitated them and drew his gun from his pocket. “Are you armed?”

“No.”

“Then stay behind me.”

She let him take the lead and rolled her eyes at his back.

“And don’t roll your eyes at me.” He looked over his shoulder at her, his eyes sharp. “There was a dangerous killer on this plane. You won’t think this is funny if he’s sitting inside waiting for us with a gun in his hand.”

“Wait!” She grabbed at his coat. “You know who was on the plane? You said you didn’t.”

He blew out a harsh breath. “No one needed to know who it was. The mission’s the same whether you know his name or not.”

Icy fear crept up her spine for the first time since the log crossing. “Who?”

Alex swallowed, paused, and looked back at the plane, speaking away from her. “Darrin Besand.”

Brynn halted. “The serial killer?”

Alex nodded as he stepped closer to the plane.

Brynn glanced around, studying the trees and big rocks cropping up out of the snow. An overwhelming urge to hide and get out of sight ripped through every nerve ending. Besand was ruthless. She felt like hundreds of eyes spied on her from behind the trees. She moved closer to Alex’s back.

For the first time in her life, she wished she had a gun.

Darrin Besand rubbed at his eyes and stared harder through the binoculars he’d found in the pilot’s bag. He lowered them and looked over the top of the binoculars, but he was too far away. Without the magnification he could only see bright bits of red against the snow. And one man in blue. He brought the binoculars to his eyes and focused again.

I’m seeing things.

But it sure looked like Alex Kinton cautiously stepping toward the plane wreck with his gun drawn and his other hand moving protectively at the woman behind him. At first glance, Darrin had thought the woman was a man. She was definitely tall enough. But long, dark blonde hair peeked out of the hood around her face and she moved with a feminine grace. He’d studied her for a few moments, enjoying the view before moving his sights to the person in front of her; his stomach had dropped in shock.

Darrin’s heart sped into a steady double-time beat as he stared through the binoculars. He was fortunate. First he’d survived a plane crash that had killed three men, and now Alex Kinton was strolling across his path.

The first time he’d met Alex three years ago, Darrin had never sensed so much pain and suffering emanating from a single person. And Darrin had never laid a hand on him. Usually that powerful and strong emotion was a type he’d only felt from his victims. Alex had been in mourning for his younger brother, seeking answers and someone to blame for Samuel’s death. Seeing the grief and torment in Alex’s eyes had been like a hit of pure meth. Darrin had wanted more.

Later on in prison, Darrin had rehearsed his words, ready to prod the federal marshal during their scheduled monthly
meetings, to cause that flash of fire and rage that gave Darrin the high he could no longer coax from his victims. Alex’s prison visits were the only interesting events in Darrin’s life. All other days were gray and dull. To experience that blast of fear, sorrow, and rage from another person was better than sex. To say he looked forward to his conversations with Alex was putting it mildly. But there was a price for Alex’s visits. Darrin had to reveal facts about some of his previous kills; otherwise, Alex would leave. That was the unwritten rule for the meetings to continue. Facts detectives couldn’t figure out on their own. Alex hand delivered the information to the various police departments who wanted to solve their cases. Darrin refused to talk to anyone else.

Darrin watched Alex through the binoculars and felt a spiking rush of power in his veins.

Alex’s personal investigating had been what landed him in prison in the first place. Simply because Alex had caught him on a minute piece of evidence.

Alex had been lucky; Darrin’s capture had been pure chance. Darrin had left police departments in three states scratching their heads.

Now here was his chance to prove to Kinton that his capture had been a fluke. Alex thought he was so clever, trekking into the forest to find Darrin. It only showed he was scared shitless. Scared that Darrin might still be alive to haunt him.

Now they were on even turf. There were no bars between them.

Darrin tentatively rolled his sore shoulder. It was feeling better after taking the aspirin he’d found in the pilot’s duffel bag. His head still hurt, but as long as he didn’t touch the spot over his ear, he’d survive.

He focused on the gun in Alex’s hand and felt the weight of the gun at his own side. They were even in that regard too. But what thrill was there in killing from a distance? Darrin relished being up close to his victims, studying their eyes, watching their awareness of his actions.

Alex Kinton deserved much more than an impersonal shot in the back.

Darrin could see Alex’s death in slow motion. It would be drawn out and painful. Alex would know exactly who was hurting him and why. Then he’d realize Darrin was the shrewder, sharper man.

Darrin smiled in anticipation.

This might be the most rewarding kill of his life.

Alex locked his gaze on the plane as he and Brynn drew closer. The wreck looked as if someone had left a beheaded metal carcass lying on the snow in the clearing. He wasn’t interested in the cockpit. The person he wanted to see would have been seated in the passenger area of the plane. He moved cautiously, waving Brynn down behind him.

“Brynn!”

Both of them jumped at the sound of Jim’s hoarse shout. Alex glanced down the slope to see Jim waving at her to come to the cockpit.

Good. Get her out of here.

Jim wouldn’t be calling her if there was danger.

His respect for Jim Wolf had grown every hour for the last two days. Jim watched out for the safety of his team and had excellent people skills, knowing exactly how to get the best out of each person. He also treated Alex with consideration and
kept his suggestions for improving Alex’s trek between the two of them.

Brynn gave Alex a questioning look, and he nodded toward Jim. She scurried away, ducking low like someone was watching her from the trees. He frowned. Her reaction to Darrin Besand’s name had been shock, then fear. It took a lot to scare a tough girl like Brynn. Bears didn’t do it. Snowstorms didn’t do it. But the name Darrin Besand caused fear in a lot of women’s eyes. He just hadn’t expected to see it in Brynn’s.

Another good reason to hate Darrin Besand.

Alex watched Jim usher her into the cockpit and wondered what they’d found. Surely no one could have lived through this wreck. But Brynn was a nurse. Why else would Jim holler for her unless someone needed medical help?

Alex turned his attention back to the body of the plane and resolutely pushed on. He had his own mission to complete. He followed his gun around the edge of the plane and saw instantly that it was empty. Except for the corpse in the second row. Alex put his gun away and stepped toward Linus Carlson.

“Damn it, Linus.” Alex squatted in the aisle beside him. Linus’s head was bent over, nearly in his lap, but Alex had known who it was at once. He’d recognize that bald spot and those stupid clunky shoes anywhere. Alex swallowed and ripped off his other glove, holding his fingertips to Linus’s cold neck. Nothing. Gently, he pushed him back to a sitting position; the rigor had relaxed. Linus had been dead a long time. Hopefully, he’d died directly on impact. Alex blinked hard a few times and glared at the dead man.

Alex and Monica had spent their last Christmas as a married couple at Linus’s home with his wife and two kids.

Aw, shit. Those cute kids.

Alex thought hard, hating himself because he couldn’t remember their names. A boy and a girl. They had to be about ten and twelve now. Alex vowed to be the person to inform Linus’s wife.

Bile threatened in the back of his throat, and he pulled his gaze away, letting it roam and rest on the sports jacket on the floor. He stared at the brown coat and then whipped his gaze up to Linus’s shirt, blinking at the blue button-down dress shirt.

Linus wasn’t wearing his holster.

Alex grabbed at the coat on the floor, felt its lack of weight and immediately dropped it, whipped out his gun, and spun to face the front of the plane. Silent snow greeted him.

For a full minute, he’d forgotten about the killer. Alex glanced at the seat across the aisle where Besand had most likely sat. There was blood on the armrests.

He had to warn Jim.

Alex started out of the plane, but halted with one hand on the ripped metal. He looked back and studied the person who’d once been a close friend. Linus was gone. All that was left now was a cold and empty shell with no resemblance to the warm and funny man he’d been.

Alex shuffled in his snowshoes down the slope to the cockpit, rubbing at the fresh dampness on his cheeks, his eyes constantly scanning the forests.

“He’s still fucking warm!” Jim bounced from one foot to the other and impatiently hovered over Brynn as she examined the body of the pilot.

Brynn nodded. “I wouldn’t call it warm, but he’s not icecold like the other pilot. Rigor’s just setting in. He’s been dead for at least twelve hours.”

She studied the mass of twisted metal that’d trapped and pierced the pilot’s legs, slowly bleeding him out to death. His bloody hands told the story of his struggle to free himself. It wouldn’t have helped. He would have probably died sooner from more rapid blood loss if he’d managed to extricate his legs.

Maybe that would have been better. She squeezed her eyes shut against the agony and mental terror the pilot must have gone through, knowing he was dying. This death would stick with her. This one she would see in her dreams at night. Along with the four-year-old boy hit by the Jeep. And the grandmother on the floor in her bathroom who no one had missed for a week.

“Brynn.”

She glanced at Jim, who stared back. “What?”

“I asked about the other guy.”

Brynn firmly put the others out of her mind and flexed one of the copilot’s arms. “Rigor’s come and gone. I’d guess he died on impact or was knocked unconscious and died soon after. He didn’t try to help his leg where he bled out.” She held up his clean, cold palm for Jim to see. Jim nodded.

“You think the other pilot suffered?” Thomas asked quietly.

She nodded and gestured at his bloody hands. Blood had soaked the pilot’s shirt up to the elbows. He’d fought hard for his life. Thomas abruptly turned and left the crowded cockpit.

“Let’s see if Alex found anything.” Jim gestured with his gun for her to follow Thomas.

“Don’t point that thing at me,” she snapped.

“Sorry.” Jim’s apology was clipped. She took a deep breath. Everyone was on edge. She couldn’t blame them. They’d worked so hard to get to this point only to be met with horror and disappointment. Why had she kept her hopes up against the odds?

Alex had arrived at the cockpit and was speaking with Thomas as she and Jim stepped out into the freshly falling snow. For once Brynn couldn’t appreciate its beauty. She couldn’t get the pilot’s lonely fight for life out of her mind. She turned a hopeful gaze to Alex, praying he’d had better luck. But his somber face told his story. Their gazes met and held.

“What’d you find?” Jim asked.

Alex split a glance between her and Jim. “One dead. The marshal.”

“Oh, Alex. I’m so sorry.” Her throat tightened.

“Darrin Besand is missing,” Thomas stated.

“You knew?” Brynn whirled on the big man. “You knew who was being transported in that plane?”

Thomas held up his hands in a surrender position. “Alex told me five seconds ago.”

“Darrin Besand. That’s the prisoner? You’ve known all along it was a dangerous, psychotic piece of shit like that and didn’t tell me?” Jim words got louder and his face grew black as he moved toward Alex. “Did Brynn know?”