Chilled (A Bone Secrets Novel) (19 page)

His hands dug faster.

A dog barked faintly.
Kiana.

“Hey!” he hollered, hurting his own ears. “I’m down here!”

Nothing. He swallowed hard and yelled again.

Still nothing.

Maybe he’d imagined the dog. Was he oxygen deprived already? Tiny sharp lights danced in his eyes and he sucked in a deep breath to send more oxygen to his brain. But it didn’t help. His lungs burned and he inhaled again, forgetting his previous caution to pace his breathing. He must have been unconscious for quite a while because he was nearly out of air. He felt lightheaded and dizzy. Not good signs.

He settled his hands at his sides and closed his eyes.

There wasn’t any point in fighting anymore.

He exhaled and relaxed. It’d be easy. He’d simply fall asleep.

Then he heard her voice, and his eyes flew open. Brynn’s brown eyes were looking down at him, laughing at him. “Are you trying to make this hard for us?”

He smiled back as relief filled his throat and kept him from speaking. Brynn looked great. From the minute he’d met her, he’d felt she was special. The animation and energy in her face
set her apart from other women. One of those people whose spirit illuminates them from the inside, giving them a special glow. One of those people your eye always comes back to, but you don’t know why. You just can’t look away.

He couldn’t look away now.

She seemed to have eyes only for him. Dark brown, expressive, dancing eyes. He’d never met anyone with such communicative eyes. Damn. If he wasn’t careful…

“You need to tell us where you are, Alex. We can’t find you if you don’t tell us.”

She smiled patiently at him and waited, her gaze losing a small degree of its joy.

He tried to speak. And couldn’t.

Her face fell and her eyes pleaded with him. “Come on, Alex. Where are you?”

He wanted to please her, he wanted that brightness back in her gaze, but he still couldn’t speak and he didn’t know where he was. His eyes closed in frustration as his brain silently screamed.

He was so fucked.

Brynn couldn’t feel her hands anymore. The cold of the snow was making them numb.
I won’t stop. I won’t stop.
She dug, ignoring the splinters of pain from her upper arms. A picture of Alex, lifeless and gray, flooded her brain and she shoved it away.

Not. Going. To. Happen.

“Good girl, Kiana. Where is he? Dig him out!”

Kiana paused to shove her nose into the deep hole she’d dug and started digging again. Kiana was like a little snowblower, shooting snow in an arc behind her. The dog’s determination calmed Brynn. Surely Kiana wouldn’t be digging if nothing were down there.

Jim sat back on his heels and huffed. His face was red, and he wouldn’t meet Brynn’s eyes. “Just catching my breath.”

She nodded and kept digging. A second later she jumped to her feet, scanning the area. “I’m so stupid. Where are the packs? Why in the hell aren’t we using the shovels?” A small collapsible shovel was standard equipment in their packs.

Jim grimaced. “Already thought about it. Don’t know where they are. The avalanche spun the body of the plane in place, but it sucked up the packs that were beside it.”

Brynn stood still. “No packs?” Their lives were in their packs. They weren’t going to survive out here if they didn’t have them. She looked at the hole at her feet. Was she digging Alex out to die in the elements? She glanced over at the big piece of the plane where she’d dropped her pack before hiking up to Ryan. Sure enough. The avalanche had caught the edge of the plane and rotated it ninety degrees.

And stolen their backpacks.

“Thomas, did you see where the packs went?” she called over to the other diggers. The big man simply shook his head, his face grim. He didn’t lose a beat in his digging rhythm. Ryan did.

“What? No packs?” Ryan worriedly looked around, his eyes wide as they stared at the plane. “Mine’s still up top,” he said slowly.

“Better than none,” Thomas stated.

“Shit.” Ryan attacked the snow with fresh vigor, and Brynn imitated him.

Her gloved hands hit a hard patch, and she punched the snow with her fist to break through. Blue. She could see blue through a layer of snow. Kiana barked.

“I’ve got him!” she shrieked and attacked the snow. Jim lunged closer.

“Which way’s his head?”

“I can’t tell. Hang on.”

Ryan and Thomas were instantly at her side, digging faster. The blue haze under the snow grew larger and she touched the fabric.
Thank you, God. Thank you.

“That’s not him.” Thomas spoke just as the realization punched Brynn in the gut.

It was one of the packs. The four of them sat back, utterly drained. Kiana barked and dug at the blue fabric.

“It’s mine,” Brynn whispered. “It’s got Kiana’s food in it.” Tears traced hot paths down her cheeks. They’d been wasting time and muscle power digging in the wrong place. Thomas stood, strode back to his hole, and began to dig. Ryan followed.

“Brynn, get your shovel out of the pack and get over there.” Jim’s voice was tired. “I must have seen the blue of your pack getting tossed in the avalanche. So maybe Thomas saw the blue of his coat. Fuck!” He rubbed his palms over his eyes. “I screwed up.”

“No, you didn’t. Look how accurate you were in locating this. We’re gonna need it.” Her voice was calm as she located the collapsible shovel, but her heart was crying. “This shovel might be what we needed to find him. Go on.” She gestured for him to join the others. “I’ll be right there.” She forced her breaths to stay even.

Jim pushed to his feet and jogged over. Ryan slapped him on the shoulder and made room for him to dig beside him. The agony on their faces broke her heart.

Brynn maneuvered her shovel out of her pack, and her fingers brushed Kiana’s sack of food. She wrenched it out of the half-buried pack and held a handful out to her dog. “Here you go. Good girl.” Kiana wagged her tail and attacked the food.

Brynn grabbed the shovel and headed over to the men. She held the shovel out to Thomas, who silently accepted it and
attacked the growing hole. Brynn fell to her knees and started to dig. Her back ached in protest.

“Alex! Can you hear us?” Ryan shouted and the others held still, listening. “Alex!” Silence.

“Call him again,” Brynn whispered. Her throat felt too swollen to yell.
Come on Alex. Where are you?

“Alex!” Ryan yelled and then froze. “Call him…shit. Anyone know his cell phone number? Maybe we’d hear that.” “There’s no coverage up here.” Thomas kept digging. “There’s some. I got through to Collins a little while ago.” “But you were higher.” Brynn’s heart lifted a fraction. “It’s worth a try! Jim, do you have his number?” Jim shook his head. Ryan turned hopefully to Brynn. “Brynn?”

She shook her head, and Ryan’s face fell as he tentatively looked at Thomas. Ryan didn’t bother to ask.

“Wait. Collins gave me the number for Alex’s boss before Alex even showed up at base camp yesterday morning.” Jim had an odd look on his face.

“You want to try to reach him and ask for Alex’s number?” Brynn asked hopefully.

“No.” Jim paused, brushing at the snow on his pants. “I think its Alex’s number I have. Alex was the one who called Collins and talked his way onto our team yesterday morning. Not someone at the US Marshals’ office.” Brynn stared. “Why would he do that?” Jim had already pulled out his cell phone and was dialing. He ignored her question. “It’s showing a weak signal. One bar. Quiet.”

Brynn shut her eyes and tried to stretch her hearing. She heard Kiana’s tail swishing and the crunch of her kibble, but she didn’t hear a cell phone ring.

“Knowing him, it’s probably on vibrate,” Ryan mumbled. His face was long, his eyes red.

“Shhh.” Brynn heard the wind blow snow out of the firs, but she didn’t hear a ring.

Jim slapped his phone shut with a crack.

“Try again,” she urged.

He started to shake his head, but faltered as they made eye contact. She pleaded with her eyes, and he hit send again.

Thomas coughed. Brynn wanted to smack him for the noise.

Jim stood still, holding the phone to his ear, his face as blank as the snow.

Come on, Alex. Tell us where you are.
This time she kept her eyes open, scanning the snow for any movement, any color.

“Damn it, Alex, answer your frigging cell,” Jim said into his phone.

Without looking at the others, Jim snapped the phone closed and dropped to his knees to dig. “I reached a voice mail, but it didn’t say who it belonged to.” Jim’s throat sounded tight. Kiana padded over and enthusiastically dug beside him.

“No food this time, girl.” He ruffled the dog’s fur.

Darrin’s stomach tied in knots as he watched the team dig. When they’d rushed the hole next to the woman and pulled out a backpack he’d been strangely disappointed.

Shouldn’t he be pleased to get that pain-in-the-ass ex-agent off his back?

Instead, he found himself pulling for the team.

He wanted another day to challenge Alex Kinton.

Another day to piss him off, watch the rage in Kinton’s eyes and the pain in the lines on his face. Darrin swore Kinton had twice as many lines around his mouth as when they first met.

He’d glimpsed Alex a time or two before the “accidents” at the group home. The resemblance between Alex and his
retard brother had been startling. It was like the retard had suddenly been injected with brains, pounded by a personal trainer, and had his hair trimmed. But it wasn’t until after Samuel’s incident that Darrin got to know, really know, Alex Kinton.

After Samuel’s death, Alex had raged through the group home, upsetting all the residents and making the owner cry. He’d been something to see. Those gray eyes had become a shade of steel that burned, and the tendons in his neck had looked like taut bungee cords. He questioned every resident and employee multiple times, and he had harassed the homicide detective until the cop had ordered him escorted out of the home by a couple of uniforms.

When Alex cornered Darrin for questioning the first time, he’d felt the heated rush of Kinton’s rage flow across his chest. Heavenly. When he’d stopped Darrin in the hallway, nearly face-to-face in the narrow corridor, Alex had smelled like clean sweat and hot anger. The two men weren’t all that different. They were about the same height, but Darrin had ten years on the agent and Alex had a lot more hair.

“Where were you last night after nine o’clock?” Those steel eyes had been dagger sharp.

Darrin had put on his best worried face, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “In my room. I always watch TV after the residents go to bed in the evening.” He’d inhaled slowly through his nose to get more of Kinton’s scent. All pissed-off male.

“What’d you watch?” The question was like a whip.

“Uh. That guy in the jungle. The reality show where the army guy survives wherever the show decides to dump him. Then the local news.”

“Did you see Samuel go to his room that night?”

“Of course. I’m usually the one to get everyone moving in that direction. Kathy doesn’t care to supervise bedtime, and I don’t mind. I saw Samuel leave the bathroom and close the door to his room.”

Kinton had worked his jaw as Darrin watched in fascination and decided to throw him a little piece of bait. “I did hear someone’s door open around eleven or so. I figured someone was using the bathroom again.” Darrin scrunched his forehead. “The sound did come in the direction of Samuel’s room. I can’t say for sure that it was his door.”

Kinton’s jaw had grown harder. “Did you hear the door close?”

Darrin had twisted his mouth. “No…I can’t say I did. I was only paying attention to the TV.”

“Why didn’t you get up to check? Why didn’t you make sure that person was back in their room?” Alex had leaned forward an inch, somehow seeming taller at that second.

Darrin had blinked and stepped back a little, his spine touching the hallway wall. “Well, usually the residents are great about returning to their rooms. Kathy has never had a problem with wanderers before.” He’d injected a small quiver in his voice and licked his lips. He hadn’t thought Kinton’s eyes could get any hotter, but they did.

Darrin had started to sweat. In a good way.

“Rosa died the other day and you’re not watching the residents? You don’t get up to check late-night noises? Two people from this home are dead. Don’t you think you should’ve stepped it up a little?”

Darrin had thought his spine would melt. Kinton had been physically pumping testosterone into the air. Darrin had sniffed and dropped his gaze. “I guess I wasn’t thinking.”

“Thinking is what you’re paid to do! These people need extra attention,” the man had said with clenched teeth.

Darrin had squeezed his eyes shut, afraid he wouldn’t project the right level of sorrow. He’d been luxuriating in the hot rush. The whole confrontation had turned into an emotional heat wave Darrin had never experienced before.

Darrin had an empty chasm deep inside him. He felt nothing. All the time. Other people were born with something in their brains that Darrin was missing. An important chemical or hormone or synapse. Even as a child, he’d known something was wrong.