Sabotaged (11 page)

“You worried about your uncle?” He was alone, away from the shelters and the help of the race volunteers.

“A lone man and his dogs in a blizzard.” Kirra rubbed her arms.

“Frank's tough.” He had to be to run the Iditarod, not to mention his four wins. “He'll be fine.”

Kirra tried to smile. “I pray you're right.”

“You ready to go?” he asked, and she gratefully nodded.

As uneasy as Kirra was on campus, there was no need to question her about the possibility Meg could be involved while still there. He hated to ask—period—but it needed to be done. Just in case. And, he needed to finish his conversation with Jake. Needed to find out what Frank's second history involved.

How on earth was he going to broach the subject of whether Meg might be in on the kidnappers' plan? And should he even bother? Did he really believe Meg could be a part of something like that? He wanted to think not, but during their short time together he'd quickly learned Meg was even wilder than he had been. Ready to push the limits, ready to experience the
extreme
, as she liked to put it.

But would she really put her father through this? Letting him think she'd been kidnapped if she'd gone willingly?

That seemed too far, but during their weekend trip to British Columbia, her dad had texted repeatedly trying to find out where she'd disappeared to, and it was only at Reef's persistent prompting that she'd even bothered to respond to one of her dad's texts. Even then she'd simply texted back that she was an adult and for him to chill. To be honest, he'd been even worse about keeping in contact with his own family, but something about her dad's desperation had tugged at his heart.

Could the environmental cause really have gotten to Meg?

Did she believe her dad's work—whatever it was—with the oil rigs was so awful that she was willing to go along with a ruse to get him to do . . . what? Compromise a rig?

“A penny for your thoughts,” Kirra said.

Reef smiled. “That's a cute expression.” One he hadn't heard since he was a child.

“My grandma Alice used to say it all the time.”

“I remember her. She used to always wear those fancy brooches to church.” She'd been the only Sunday school teacher who actually seemed to enjoy his company.

Kirra stopped in her tracks. “Yeah, she did. How'd you remember?”

“I don't know, I—”

“You've got some nerve coming back here.” A woman, tall and curvy, stormed toward them, her long brown hair flying in the wind across her shoulders.

Kirra's heart sank.
Tracey
. How had she known? Had William learned of her presence and told Tracey?

Her stomach lurched.
Is William
here too?
Her heart thudded in her chest—each
thwack
resonating in her ears—her pulse growing rapid, her breathing shallow. She glanced around. A few people milled at the edge of the parking lot, most distracted. But Reef . . .

Please
, Lord. Not now. Not in front of him
.

Hot shame and mortification sifted through her. She lifted a hand, willing Tracey to stop, but she kept coming. “I'm just looking for my cousin Meg, Tracey. She's missing,” Kirra managed, praying the truth of her purpose here would keep Tracey at bay.

Tracey stopped just shy of her—it'd only been a couple
years, but she'd changed. Her dark hair had auburn streaks and she'd put on a good ten pounds.

Tracey cocked her head with a snarky smile. “If she's related to you, she's probably off playing the trollop.” Her hot pink nails tapped along her silver heart belt buckle. “I'm sure it runs in the family.” She turned to Reef, her gaze raking over him. “Who are
you
?”

Reef looked at Kirra, confused. “I'm Kirra's friend.”

Tracey planted her hands on her ample hips. “Then, you'd better be careful. She tends to stab friends in the back.”

Anger churned in Kirra's throat.
Injustice. Lies.
“That's not what happened.” It had been completely the other way around. “It was William! He—”

“Ah, I see you're still sticking with that pathetic lie?”

“Your boyfriend is the liar.” And the one responsible.

Tracey held up her hand—the lowering sun glinting off the pear-shaped stone on her ring finger. “My
husband
.”

She'd actually married the man?

“Now.” Tracey squared her shoulders, her faux-fur coat grazing her artificial tanned cheeks imbued with anger's flush. “I suggest you get out of here.”

She would like nothing better than to leave, but Tracey's stab at intimidation was only raising Kirra's ire. Her betrayal, William's lies, the injustice of it all . . . Strength filled her. A confidence she hadn't felt in two years. “Or what?”

Tracey took a step closer. “I'll make you.” She shoved Kirra.

The small group at the edge of the parking lot had grown in size—everyone now watching them.

“Whoa!” Reef stepped between the two. “I don't know who you are, lady, but I suggest you back away.”

Tracey peered around Reef at Kirra, her smile tinged with
malice. “So . . .” She looked back at Reef. “She hasn't told you? Well”—Tracey pushed up her jacket sleeves—“let me enlighten you.”

Horror vibrated up Kirra's throat, rendering her speechless.

“Tracey!” a man roared.

William
. His voice jolted Kirra greater than a hundred volts ricocheting through her could.

“Will?” Tracey turned. “I told you I'd handle this.”

“And I told you to let it be.”

Kirra refused to look at William, refused to make eye contact, afraid if she did it would all come rushing back and consume her with terror.

Reef wrapped a protective arm around her. “Time to go.” He guided her toward their rental car.

“We aren't done here,” Tracey called, her boot heels clacking along the pavement behind them.

Reef opened Kirra's car door and settled her inside. “
Yes
.” He shut the door and turned to face Tracey. “We are.”

She looked past Reef at Kirra. “Running away again. I suppose that's what liars and skanks do—run away in shame.”

Kirra rolled down her window as Reef climbed in the car and started it, finding her voice again. “I'm not the one who should be filled with shame.” But she was. “And William knows it.” She braved a glance in his direction. He remained on the periphery, letting Tracey fight his battle, coward that he was.

“You liar.” Tracey spewed out a string of expletives as Reef started to reverse out of the spot.

“That's it!” He shifted the car into Park and stepped out to stand behind the open door. “What's wrong with you, lady? How can you talk to her like that?”

“She deserves it.”

“No way. Not Kirra.”

Tracey linked her arms across her chest. “Then clearly you don't know who you're dealing with.”

Reef tried to keep his eyes on the road, but he couldn't keep his worried gaze off Kirra.

She was hunched over, nearly balled up against the passenger door, her face pale, her body shivering.

He cranked up the heat. They needed to find someplace to rest for a while—grab something to eat and get a good night's sleep. But not yet, not until he got her farther away from that horrid woman.

A lot of different scenarios raced through his mind, but none of them matched up to what the woman said and who he knew Kirra to be. Even if they weren't close, he knew her. He'd spent every year of grade school in the same class with her, shared the same homeroom in high school. He knew her character. And all the ugly things the woman spewed were incongruent with the person he knew Kirra to be.

He glanced over at her again. “You wanna talk about it?”

She shook her head.

“Okay.”

They drove in silence for the next two hours, making it to the southern border of Denali before Reef reached the lodge he and his family had stayed at so often while he was growing up.

The two-story, arched-frame wooden lodge was just as he remembered it—down to the bronze statue of a moose standing guard by the front entrance—it'd been his sister
Piper's favorite part of their trips there. A gorgeous twenty-thousand-plus-foot mountain stood prime for exploring right in the lodge's backyard, but no, his sister loved to sit out front by the moose statue and read.

Kirra frowned as he cut the ignition. “Why are we stopping here?”

“Because you need a good meal and a decent night's sleep.”

“But Meg . . .”

“We wouldn't reach Seward before midnight. Everyone will be dispersed for the night. We might as well rest where we know we can find a room and head out early. If we leave by five, we'll be there by noon.”

Kirra swallowed but didn't argue as she stared up at the lodge. “Nice place.”

“My family used to come here every year.” Until his folks had passed away.

The valet opened Kirra's door as Reef stepped out of his. He moved around the car, conferred with the valet, and stepped to Kirra's side, linking his arm with hers. He opened the main door and ushered her inside, thankful to have her on what he considered safe territory—at least familiar territory for him.

The tension racking her body hadn't eased, but after what had transpired, he couldn't blame her. It was going to take a while for her to settle down.

“Let's check in and then head for the hotel restaurant.”

She nodded.

Reef secured rooms in Moose Hall—the wing of the lodge his family always stayed in because of Piper's adoration of the silly-looking animals. He understood their majesty, but cuteness? But that was Piper—able to see beauty amidst ugliness
or even plain ordinariness. She'd seen the best in him when he didn't deserve it. He still didn't deserve it, but he was working toward being a man his sister, his whole family, could be proud of.

Kirra dropped her bag on the bed, not even bothering to take in her surroundings. She couldn't imagine what Reef must be thinking. She silently followed him back down to the lobby, where the restaurant was located.

Dark wood tables filled the center of the dimly lit dining area, with cushioned booths lining the walls. In the center of the red-and-white-checked tablecloth stood an old bloomed-bottom bottle with a cream-colored taper candle wedged in the top. Wax trailed down in rivulets over the green glass surface. She hadn't seen one like it since she was a kid in her parents' favorite Italian restaurant. Just seeing it—the flame dancing along the wick—brought back the scent of garlic bread to her mind.

She waited until after their meat loaf specials arrived to get the conversation rolling—she had to do it sooner or later. Better to get it over with. He'd think of her what he would. It was how she chose to react that made the difference. But first a report of Reef's conversation with Jake. “What did Jake have to say?” she asked while digging into her meat loaf with a fork. It was so tender and juicy, it simply fell apart.

Reef poured ketchup onto his plate. “We can talk about that later. It's been a long day, hasn't it?”

A long day
. That was a considerate way to put it. He may not have asked what Tracey was talking about during her
rant, but he'd been thinking about it. How could he not? Besides, she could always tell when he was contemplating something—his forehead creased. Had since the first day of kindergarten when the teacher had asked him his favorite color. She'd asked all of them the same question, but only Reef's answer had left a permanent impression on Kirra. He'd said it was blue that day. When the teacher asked if it would still be blue tomorrow, he'd replied tomorrow was a new day. Even then he'd lived for the moment. It had drawn her attention;
he'd
drawn her attention, in a
good
way—right up until he'd called her a stinky girl at recess. Then he'd become memorable for an entirely different reason—he'd become her nemesis that day and remained so all the way through high school.

Now he sat across from her, and heaven help her, she yearned to share the weight crushing down on her, but why? Simply because he was available? No, because, for whatever crazy reason, she longed for
his
understanding. His comfort.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He smiled softly.

She smiled back. Grandma Alice's words were a soothing balm to her suffering soul. “You first.”

He set his fork aside.

Never a good sign.

He exhaled. “Jake said it's been difficult tracking down Frank's most recent employer, but Darcy's on it.”