Sabotaged (7 page)

“Discussing the curious fact that Frank Jacobs chooses to go by Frank Weber.”

“So he chose to go by his biological last name,” Gage said, crunching off a bite of almond biscotti. “Why's that curious?”

“Because it means there was either discord in his adoptive family or . . .” Darcy glanced at Jake.

“He needed a name change,” Jake obliged.

“Yep.” Darcy smiled. “Which in itself usually points to one of two things.”

“Trouble with the law,” Gage said.

“Yes, or . . .”

“He doesn't want to be found,” Jake added.

“Isn't that the same thing?” Gage asked.

Darcy shook her head. “Not necessarily.”

Jake leaned forward on an exhale. “All depends on who he was hiding from.”

He settled into his tent, reclining on his cot. “How's Meg?” he asked over his sat phone.

“Still cooperating.”

He chuckled. “You still haven't said what you are going to do with her when her daddy reaches the finish line. Surely you're not going to let her go. She knows too much.” She knew
him
.

“You let me worry about that. What about the niece and her boyfriend?”

“Unfortunately they're still alive.” He braced for some serious displeasure. “But they've left the race.”

“What do you mean
left
?”

“They pulled out to nurse their injuries. Headed back home according to race headquarters.”

“According to headquarters?” His voice tightened. “Please tell me you didn't just take their word for it.”

“Of course not.” He draped his leg over the cot's side. “I saw them leave myself.”

“And go where?”

“They got in a plane. I assume for home.”

“You
assume
? Are you kidding me? There is no room for assumption in our plan. Head to wherever home is and get visual confirmation.”

He sat up. “I can, but I don't see . . .”

“I'm not asking you to see—I'm asking you to
do
.”

Man, his cousin had gotten bossy and cranky since this all started. This was his cause too. Best he didn't forget that.

A
NCHORAGE
I
NTERNATIONAL
A
IRPORT
M
ARCH
11, 5:30
P
.
M
.

“Hi, Dad.” Kirra clutched her cell to her ear, trying to hear over the heightened noise of the terminal. They'd spent the last few hours waiting for their flight and the anxious moths dancing a jig in her belly hadn't eased yet. Time to get the call to her dad over with.

“Kirra?”

“Yeah, Dad. It's me.”

“You calling from the race?”

“Yep.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, fine. Just calling to check in.”

“Oh. Well, everything's good here. Your mom and I are getting ready for our Caribbean cruise. Your mom's arthritis has been acting up, so the warm weather will do her good.”

“Dad, you guys live in Arizona. Isn't it always warm there?”

“Normally. But we've only had highs in the sixties lately. Besides, she's ready for a change of scenery.”

An escape
. Her mom could only deal with reality for so long, and then she had to run away for a vacation or a weekend trip to the spa. Anything to forget whatever was upsetting her—whether it was health-related or life changes in general.

“How's the race going?”

Leave it to her dad not to ask how his brother was doing specifically. “Well.” She swallowed, knowing she could only stall so long. “Hey . . .” She slipped her hair behind her ear, shifting to see Reef sitting across the corridor from her. For whatever reason—she didn't want to ponder too deeply why—his presence gave her courage. “I was just thinking . . . I don't know a lot of specifics about Uncle Frank, and since I'll be seeing him throughout the race, I thought it would be nice to have some talking points.”

“
O . . . kay
. What do you want to know?”

“What's he doing these days for a job?”

“Last I heard he was working with the oil rigs.”

“When was that?”

“Last I heard.”

“Which was a few months ago, a few years ago?”

“I don't know, Kirra. Why does it matter?”

“Just curious. Any idea which oil company?”

“I don't exactly keep tabs on my brother. What's with all the questions?”

“I told you, I know I'm going to see Frank, and it got me thinking—”

His huffy laugh cut her off. “Well, you do tend to overthink things.”

Just like he believed she'd overthought the rape, that perhaps that wasn't what
really
happened? She'd been drinking, and either way, what good would come of dragging both
their names through the mud? Private matters should remain private.

“Thanks, Dad.”
For nothing.

“Do you want to talk to your mom? I'm sure I can pull her away from the greenhouse, if you really want to talk with her.”

“No. Don't bother. I've got to go.”

“All right. Take care of yourself.”

She was the only one who would.

She strode back over to Reef, her gut hollow.

“Hey,” he said as she slipped into the vinyl chair beside him. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Her jaw tightened. “Fine.”

“Did your dad have anything helpful?”

Hurtful, yes. Helpful, possibly, she supposed. “Maybe. He said last he heard Frank was working on an oil rig.”

“Did he say which company?”

“He didn't know.”

“How long ago was this?”

“He didn't remember that either.”

“Okay.” Reef raked his hands through his hair. “I'll call Jake and update them. It's at least a place to start.”

“You're going to have to wait until we reach Fairbanks.” She gestured to the plane loading.

“Gotcha.” He grabbed their duffels.

She reached for hers. “I can take that.”

“No problem.” He slung it over his shoulder. “After you.”

She still wasn't sure what to do with a chivalrous Reef.

He put their bags in the overhead compartment and settled into the aisle seat beside her. The commuter plane was small, with only two seats on either side of the aisle.

She studied him as he settled in. His family was so different
than hers.
He
was so different from the memory in her mind of a reckless and arrogant teen.

She shifted, facing him. “Your family is great.”

“Yeah.” He smiled. “They really are.”

Was he excluding himself from that?

“You all seem really close, always ready to come to each other's aid.” And hers, Frank's, and Meg's—they weren't even related. Why would the McKennas go to all the trouble they were just to help her family out? Well, part of her family. The only part that mattered.

“Yeah. It's a tremendous blessing. One I don't deserve.”

“Your family doesn't seem to feel that way.”

“No.” He smiled. “They don't.”

“That's got to make you feel good.”

He turned, arching a brow. “You say that with regret. Is your family . . . ? I mean, I thought you had a nice family.”

“Oh, they're
nice
all right.”

His brows arched.

She shook her head. “Never mind. Tell me more about your family.”

“Like what?”

“Anything. I love listening to Kayden talk about all your adventures and family antics. Gage seems hysterical.”

“Yeah. There's never a dull moment.”

They spent the next hour talking about the McKennas, and she reveled in the fantasy of being part of such a loving family. Not that her parents weren't loving. . . . They just didn't know how to react to the difficult parts of life. And in her opinion, that's what real family was—being there for one another during the hard parts of life, supporting and standing up for one another.

Reef smiled.

Kirra shifted. “What?”

“Nothing. I just haven't heard you this talkative in years.”

“Meaning?” Was that a good or bad thing?

“It's a compliment. It's nice having a real conversation with you.”

“Real?” What did that mean?

“You know . . . one where you aren't lecturing me.” He winked.

“Is that who you really think I am?” That she only lectured or bossed? Though, based on their history, she could see where he was coming from. His thoughtful stare and slight smile curving on his lips sent a jig aflutter in her belly.

“I used to.”

She swallowed, drawn to his deep blue eyes and the sincerity resting in them. “And now?”

His smile slowly widened on one side—a sexy lopsided grin. “I feel like I'm beginning to see the real you for the first time.”

She was dying to ask if he liked what he saw, but she wasn't brave enough.

She stared out the plexiglass window as they made their descent into Fairbanks, her heart thudding in her throat.

Kirra followed Reef through Fairbanks International Airport. What was she doing? She couldn't be back here. Her alma mater held some of her best memories, but also her very worst. But Darcy was right—the university was their best resource for determining Meg's whereabouts.

She prayed Meg's roommate, Ashley, knew when Meg had left campus. Knowing when she left and where she was headed would give them the first piece of the puzzle, and Kirra was anxious to start filling in the empty slate before them.

“Hey.” Reef nudged her arm. “It's going to be okay.”

She straightened. “How can you possibly know that?”

“Because I have faith.”

The statement seemed odd coming from Reef. Oh, she knew people could change—she'd witnessed change in Reef already—but Reef McKenna was talking to her about faith. . . . God certainly had an ironic sense of humor. “Sorry to tell you this, but even people of faith are let down sometimes.”

“Trust me.” He hefted his duffel higher on his shoulder. “I know.”

She bit her bottom lip. His parents had both been strong
believers, and both died young. Reef had endured his share of sorrow and suffering.

“But that doesn't mean we shouldn't have faith,” he said, holding the glass door open for her. “Jesus doesn't promise us a life without trouble. In fact, for His followers He says the exact opposite.”

The verse from John 16 sank into her veins.
“In this world you will have trouble
. But take heart! I have overcome the world
.”

Reef was right. She'd had trouble, but she continued to believe in God. What she struggled with were the
why
s. Why hadn't God stopped William from raping her? Why hadn't He brought the healing she so desperately desired?

Looking back, she had to admit she hadn't prayed about her decision to join William at the party before she acted, before she took that first drink or the second. She certainly hadn't heeded the voice inside saying he wasn't right for her, that time spent with William was not beneficial. Boy, how she wished she'd listened. Would it have stopped William from doing what he did? Maybe not, but it would have changed the circumstances it happened under, and that would have made a huge difference in how Tracey viewed her, how others viewed her. Being let down by those she loved and trusted most had nearly brought her to her knees.

“Hey.” Reef's fingers brushed hers—lingering long enough that heat transferred. “You still with me?”

“Yeah.” She swallowed, knowing she should pull back but, for the first time in two years, not wanting to lose physical contact. His hand was soothing, his skin soft.

“Kirra?” He dipped his head to look her in the eye. His fingers softly tangled with hers.

“Sorry.” She shook her head. “Got distracted.”

“Not in a good way.”

She frowned. “What?” He was the one who'd reached for her hand.

“Your face scrunched all up. Whatever you were thinking about, it wasn't pleasant.”

Could Reef really read her that well? Was she that transparent? Panic slid up her throat. She needed to change the subject, quickly. She eased her hand back, slipping it in her coat pocket as they stepped outside to the rental car lot. “So . . . how long did you and Meg date?”

He cocked his head, clearly caught off guard by the question. “A couple months. She was in her first year at the community college and I was running snow-kiting lessons out on Twenty Mile River. Meg came for a class and . . .”

“You two started seeing each other.”

“We grabbed a bite afterward.”

“And?”

“And hung out some for a while.”

Why did that sting so? “How come it didn't last?” Probably because Reef rarely stuck anything out—though to be fair, neither did Meg.

Kirra loved her cousin, but Meg certainly wasn't flawless. Maybe that's why she'd been the one to stick closest by Kirra after the rape—because she understood what it was like to be judged.

“I guess I just felt it was time to move on. Looking back . . .” He raked a hand through his hair. “Meg was young and I was immature. It was a bad combo.”

“Do you two still stay in touch?” Why was jealousy rising in her throat, spreading heat across her chest? So Reef had
dated her cousin. So Meg knew the soft feel of Reef's lips. So what?

It wasn't like anything would ever happen between Reef and
her
. He was too dangerous, lived too fully.

“I'll get the occasional text or FB message,” Reef answered, his brow arched, a smile tugging at his lips. Did he find her jealousy amusing? “Our exchanges are random and certainly not serious.”

Relief filled her, and that frightened her. Why should she care about Reef's relationship with Meg—or with any woman, for that matter? She needed to stop spending so much time with him. Her vision was getting clouded.

So they'd shared an intimate conversation on the plane and a dreamy kiss in the cave—which he still hadn't brought up, thank goodness. The cold, hard fact was he was completely opposite of what she needed, so there was zero point in letting herself get attached.

A more frightening concern was
why
she was growing so attached in the first place? This was
Reef
McKenna
. He dated women like Meg—free-spirited, fun, and risk takers. She, on the other hand, had taken one big risk in her life, and it had cost her a piece of her soul.

She'd prayed and prayed and prayed for God to fill the void. She believed God could make her whole again, but for some reason He hadn't yet. There was still a hollowness eating away inside her—one she attempted to hide, one she tried to fill by taking care of her dogs, but one that wouldn't go away.

She'd been holding on to hope for two years and still the emptiness remained. Maybe she'd better get used to the idea that she might never be whole again.

She stared out the rental car window as they headed for
a restaurant Reef had recommended. She hated taking time to stop for dinner, but she was starving. Besides, returning to campus at night would only heighten her anxiety. It was near the same time of year that—

She cut off the thought before a panic attack set in. She couldn't let Reef see her like that.

They'd decided they would get a couple hotel rooms for the night and would approach Meg's roommate first thing in the morning. There was no sense heading over when classes weren't in session. They needed to be able to question whomever Ashley might direct them to, and that was far more likely to happen during the day.

The restaurant he chose was surprisingly quaint—seating a total of thirty patrons. White tablecloths covered small round tables, and lit white lanterns on the center of the tables added an intimate ambiance. As she sat on a dark wooden chair carved with nautical themes along the back, she felt sheltered and protected—two things she'd been yearning to feel for two years. How did Reef keep doing it?

His gaze remained on her throughout dinner—their conversation kept to a minimum. The silence was nice, the food delicious. God was giving her a moment of peace before the storm she was about to walk into.