Devil's Gold (18 page)

“Yeah, it seemed to excite our zoologist.”

Steve reached Jake's side and leaned a hip against the wooden railing. “Are you sure it wasn't your deep and sexy voice?” he said, a mischievous grin lighting his face.

“Steve,” Jake shot him a warning glance. “What did the laborers say?” “Okay, for a bunch of nail bangers, they're pretty well informed. Apparently this geyser will be bigger than Old Faithful. The bleachers are being constructed for an assembly of scientists due to arrive the day after tomorrow. I need to clarify a few things with Michelle, but apparently they can determine the exact hour of eruption based upon the heat that builds beneath the fissure in the earth's crust, or something like that.”

Jake stared at the bleachers, turned, and trained his sight on the slight mound rising from the plateau. “I want a complete rundown on every scientist and their entourage due in for this event…”

Steve raised his hand, stopping Jake mid-sentence. “New World Petroleum is one of the sponsors of this event.”

“What?”

Pointing over his shoulder at the carpenters, he nodded. “They're securing NWP plaques on all the bleachers.”

“Jesus, this is bizarre. I need to contact Price and figure out what the deal is. This seems way too coincidental. What gives?”

Steve shrugged. “I have no clue.”

Jake glanced at the garbage can, wishing he hadn't thrown the straw away. “I'm heading back to the room. Will you locate the GPS station and verify all is in proper working order?”

“Sure, Captain.” Steve nodded and turned to rejoin Michelle and Valerie. Before he reached the edge of the boardwalk, he called back to Jake. “Up for a game of chess later?”

Jake glanced at the young Special Forces officer and smiled. “Have you saved your money?”

“No need. Have you saved yours?”

Steve laughed and waved. Chess would be good. He might even be able to sleep a few hours before picking up Cassidy.

Jake's eyes snapped open. His internal clock signaled that dawn fast approached the horizon. Stretching, he worked his muscles until they were limber enough for him to gracefully exit the bed. If he ignored this ritual, years of strenuous activities coupled with several battle wounds guaranteed a rough landing once his feet hit the ground.

The narrow spot between his shoulder blades itched, signaling trouble. Jake moved quickly through his morning routine, an inner urgency pushing him forward and twisting his gut into an uncomfortable tangle of nerves. He forced himself not to run down the hall and into the lobby. What was wrong? His instincts were screaming at a decibel level he couldn't ignore.

Leaving the quiet inn, the disharmony of the waking park seized his ears in an angry storm of chirps, croaks, and bellows. He inhaled the crisp air, mist, and pine, the rich scent acting as an analgesic for his panic.

With a tilt of his head, he surveyed his surroundings. It was dark. The sun hadn't begun lighting the sky, but everything seemed normal.

He thought it must be the strange surroundings that scraped at his anxiety.

A sudden vision of a dark, remote corner of the forest made him realize why he felt apprehensive. The thought of Cassidy spending the night alone amidst miles of uninhabited land unsettled him. He'd been a fool to allow her to go. Did it stem from his stubbornness to ignore the attraction that sparked and fired between them?

She was the leader of the pod and could do as she saw fit. Frowning, he tried to determine a way he could've joined her without blowing his cover. Nothing came to mind. Cassidy was in peak physical condition; he'd scrutinized her stats in the personnel file. She'd be fine. Besides, he'd given her a gun.

He walked slowly to the Jeep, the echo of his footsteps out of place among the natural waking forest. He opened the back and grabbed a gift bag containing the thermos he'd bought yesterday. It looked like a bear. Jake ran his thumb across the plastic nose and sighed; this was a bad sign. He'd given in to whimsy.

Trudging back into the lodge, Jake concentrated on clearing his thoughts. He absently filled the thermos with hot coffee from the silver urn to the left of the lobby. With a twist of his wrist, he screwed on the bear's head, then paused, suddenly unsure of himself. He'd promised Cassidy coffee but had no clue what she put in it. He grabbed a few packages of creamer, their edges moist with condensation, then snatched up some sugar and artificial sweetener.

He drove the forty-five miles to the spot she'd been dropped off yesterday. It was almost 4:30. Better early than late. Jake stepped lightly onto the scattered gravel that acted as an unofficial parking area.

A familiar scent lingered in the air. Sniffing, he recognized the faint remnants of tobacco. Odd. He scanned the deserted road and surrounding plateau. Nothing.

With a glance over his shoulder, he moved toward the base of the trail. Something was wrong. His shoulders burned. Grabbing his gun from its holster, he proceeded using well placed steps to soften the echo. He couldn't hear anything. Not even the sounds of wildlife.

Jake allowed years of training to lead him as he melted into the night. His eyes absorbed every nuance. A broken twig. Looking closer, he discovered several strands of blonde hair snagged on the jagged edge of the stick. Cassidy could've easily done this yesterday, but a picture of her trudging up the path with her hair securely braided flashed through his mind.

What he saw next caused a myriad of frightening images to rear their ugly heads. A cigarette butt lay next to the path. Clicking on a small pen light, he shined its narrow beam on the tobacco remnants, confirming his first impression. The cigarette floated in a large pool of blood.

C
ASSIDY LAY SPRAWLED ON HER STOMACH, MOTIONLESS WITHIN
the confines of the observation platform. The hard plywood dug uncomfortably into her hip bones. And her elbows, rubbed raw from supporting the high-density night binoculars, ached with exhaustion.

Her vision blurred. She moved her face away from the binoculars, closing her eyes tightly in the hope of finding some relief from strain. As her eyelids fluttered open, the first light of dawn crowned the majestic range of the Grand Tetons. It was late, or early, depending on whether or not you had spent the night diligently maintaining your vigil or comfortably cocooned in a warm bed. Either way, morning arrived and the wolves hadn't. She rested her forehead against the wooden floor and fought against the tears of frustration and exhaustion.

This urge to cry was becoming annoying. In reality, an unsuccessful first night shouldn't bother her. This assignment might take months to complete. No. She wanted the mystery solved now. The day she could fly out of here couldn't come quickly enough.

A twig snapped, piercing the air like a gunshot, and she raised her head slowly, peering over the edge of the platform. Her eyes strained to see what she prayed padded below. Dark gray shadows moved within the swirling morning mist and passed beneath her as silently as a school offish. A grin played across her face while she mentally calculated the total number in the pack.
The wolves are here
.

The pack drifted beyond the observation platform, silent and graceful. She squirmed and strained her neck forward to achieve a better surveillance position. Cassidy silently counted to herself. Eight. The alpha male led the pack, his haunch at least three inches taller than that of the smaller boned females. Coloring and collars couldn't be made out in the dim light of dawn.

A deep rumble reverberated against the wooden deck, and it was several seconds before Cassidy's brain registered what it was. The wolves snaked through a grove of aspens, disappearing beyond the edge of the ridge. She swiftly yanked the cell phone from her belt hook, swearing softly at the text message displayed. It was Jake.

She rested her head back on the platform, shutting out the brilliant blue eyes and cocky grin that had invaded her mind all night. Cassidy couldn't remember the last time she'd been fascinated by a man, let alone this feeling of a sophomoric crush on the varsity football star. If it weren't for his uber-macho attitude, she might actually consider the validity of her attraction.

She glanced at her phone again and hesitated. Knowing him, the 911 symbolized his demand for an update. Cassidy decided to let him sit and stew. If it'd been important, he would've called rather than used text.

Cassidy cursed louder as she gingerly sat up. Her muscles were as tight as a whip from the long hours spent in one position, and her bladder shot bolts of pain through her groin. This was the worst: the morning after.

She climbed hesitantly down the side of the platform, careful not to misplace a foot; an injury this far in the wilderness could cause serious—even fatal—problems. Once her feet were firmly planted on the ground, Cassidy proceeded to stretch each muscle, reintroducing the flow of blood to several numbed body parts.

Morning calisthenics completed, Cassidy climbed up the platform to retrieve her belongings. She unpacked a bottle of water and bag of trail mix. As usual, she was late. It was time to begin the four-hour hike down from the ridge. With any luck, Jake would be there with an offering of delicious hot coffee.

This was Cassidy's favorite part of the day. Her fatigue melted away with the milky white morning mist. She nibbled and slurped her way down the mountainside, intent on making just enough noise to not startle an unsuspecting bear but still quiet enough to appreciate the hidden treasures buried within Yellowstone National Park.

Lost in the beauty of her surroundings, Cassidy quickly forgot Jake's message was the reason she'd decided against following the wolves. Her phone remained clipped to her waistband, the urgent message left unanswered.

The sun crested the snowcapped peaks, shining brightly and illuminating the beautiful scenery surrounding her. Trees, heavily laden with various shades of green, painted a picture of a perfect July morning. A soft breeze tickled wisps of hair at the base of her neck, but she was oblivious to the touch, her attention drawn by the graceful dance of a full-grown, male bald eagle.

Brilliant white feathers masked his head as he soared majestically on the currents, screeching of his freedom. Cassidy paused and absorbed the sight of the huge bird. Her brain automatically acknowledged that he would be hunting for food to feed his young. She scanned the surrounding area in search of his nest and mate but couldn't locate either.

Someday she would be able to spend hours observing wildlife purely for pleasure. Right now, however, she had a job to do.

This was her specialty.

Suddenly, the eagle's cry sounded too close to the human pain that plagued her nightmares.

Africa. She shuddered. It would take a long time to forget. As her eyes followed the elegant dips and turns of the bird, she inhaled, mesmerized by the winged ballet. The air was crisp and scented with a mixture of composting leaves and sweet wildflowers.

A far cry from Atlanta. A lifetime from Africa.

Remembering the horror, Cassidy squeezed her eyes shut. It would fade with time.

She smiled when the bird perched on top of a rotting tree. His magnificence drew her mind from the suffering and helped reaffirm her commitment to ZEBRA. She didn't agree with all their policies, but the organization held an important place in pursuing world peace. Dedication and loyalty were like children. At first, full of unconditional love. Then abuse, disillusionment, and emotional pain turned them bitter and shaky, making it difficult to find a clear path.

Her commitment to ZEBRA's mission statement remained solid. But the combination of Drew's odd behavior toward the Niger Delta assignment and Charles' disappearance, had her questioning the organization. Something wasn't right.

Cassidy crouched and ruffled the grass. It felt good to touch Yellowstone soil. If the death of her parents could somehow be compartmentalized behind all of the other wonderful memories of Jackson, she might be able to call this place home again. And she needed a home.

Her mission in Africa was compromised. Despite Drew's denial, NWP had attacked their camp. Every bone in her body knew this, but she lacked concrete evidence. The fact that she'd witnessed Fowler at the scene of the attack wasn't enough. She'd find a way to uncover the truth and seek recourse on Anna's behalf. If she could locate the Black Stripe operative that had pulled her from her tent, maybe she'd unearth some answers.

Her side vibrated. As she detached the phone, Cassidy hissed in annoyance. These things were worse than a leash. She hated being tied to reality, when her work consumed all her energy. That wasn't entirely true. It'd been deliberate on her part not to return the message because of who had sent it. That, she realized, was unprofessional.

Cursing her stupidity, she checked her watch. She'd been on the path for three hours. It was almost nine o'clock. She sighed deeply, knowing that a long lecture was going to be delivered when she met up with Jake.