Tracking shadows bland p.., p.7
Tracking Shadows: Bland P.I.R Book Two, page 7
No way in hell I’ll underestimate him again.
He popped two Tylenol and downed the whole bottle of water from his pack, quickly shoving the bloodied clothes and jacket inside. Moving quicker now, he made his way through the woods to the easier trail back to Mount Hood Village, Cougar Trail.
Mitch’s Cabin
Mitch was sitting with his back against the wall next to the log burner, brows furrowed in contemplation, listening as Gabe questioned Damaris.
‘So, he showed up here out of the blue? How’d he know where you were? What did he want?’
Gabe’s voice was relaxed, but Mitch knew he was reading Damaris’s body language – much the same as he was. Mitch didn’t believe for one second that she knew why Gil had been after her, but he needed it verified – it’d been a helluva day, and he was tired.
‘I don’t know. I’m on sabbatical. There was an incident… well, I just felt I needed a break. I’m a researcher. I generally look at statistics, geographical profiling, spiking trends in crime and whatnot. Occasionally, I consult externally. It’s pretty boring run-of-the-mill stuff. I’ve never seen him before in my life.’ Damaris shook her head.
For a moment, when she’d mentioned the word ‘incident,’ her eyes filled with distrust and hurt, but she tamped it down and continued. He filed it away to ask Gabe if he had spotted it.
‘He didn’t say anything to you?’
‘No, I don’t think so. I don’t know how he’d even know I was here. I mean, I fell down a mountain, for God’s sake. If Mitch here hadn’t saved me, I’d have ended up in a slurry of mud at the bottom, probably dead. I didn’t even know here was a place until Mitch brought me home.’
Mitch’s cheeks warmed at her use of the word ‘home’ – it probably meant nothing, but it still made him happy she saw it that way.
‘Wait a sec, when he threatened to kill me, didn’t he say something about you giving him “it”? Do you know what he meant? An “it” is usually a physical object. Have you looked at something in your research that could piss someone off? Maybe kept a hard copy of something? Or could the “it” have something to do with the incident you mentioned?’ Mitch questioned.
Damaris paled slightly at the sudden questions. She looked as though she contemplated whether she was going to have to tell them, two almost strangers, about the thing that had happened at work that even she didn’t want to face up to yet. The very reason for her sabbatical – something she maybe didn’t feel ready to think about let alone discuss.
‘No. I mean, I don’t think…’
‘Take a deep breath, then answer each question.’ Gabe’s baritone clearly did little to calm her, but she did as he’d said and drew in a deep breath.
‘No, I don’t know what he meant. I don’t know what “it” is. My research lately has just been generic run-of-the-mill geographical profiling about a spike in drug production in Portland of a new drug to the market called Toast – have you heard of it? It’s like ecstasy but supposed to be more potent. I’m merely profiling whether it’s more likely to have been created in Portland by some of the top drug producers or whether it’s being imported from another city. It’s really nothing that would piss anyone off, it’s literally so the cops can target more effectively and make a dent in the supply chains.’
‘You’re employed by Portland Police Department?’ Gabe asked.
‘No, I consult. I work for Howser International. We do profiling for a variety of clients including law enforcement.’
‘And the incident you mentioned, what was that about?’ Mitch kept his voice quiet, knowing from her earlier reaction that his question would freak her out.
Her cheeks flushed red, and she winced visibly.
‘I really don’t want to talk about that. It has no bearing on this man looking for me, though. Please can you just believe me? I’m not ready… I can’t…’
‘You’ve fallen down a mountain, pretty much carried me back to this cabin in the middle of a storm, understood instantly to play along when that dick knocked at the door, helped me patch up an injured wolf without sedation or hesitation, not to mention you’ve handled being questioned by two overgrown lugs like us, all in the space of a day. That, in my book, makes you pretty damn brave, Damaris Rivers. Talking about that incident might help, make it something you can deal with rather than feeling like you have to run from it. Trust me, I know I’m pretty much the definition of pot calling the kettle black after the way I’ve been acting since my injury, but it truly might help. And maybe if you need it, we can help you.’
Damaris fought internally. She’d tried so hard to help when it had happened a few weeks before. Everything that had happened that day, and every day since, had been the reason for her sabbatical. She drew in yet another deep breath and began.
‘The company I work for is close-knit, more like family really. A few weeks ago, I was working late. There was only me, my boss, John, and John’s son, Theo, in the office. John suddenly grabbed at his chest and started turning blue. It was awful, but my dad had a heart attack a few years ago, and I kinda just knew that’s what was happening. I immediately started helping John, but Theo just sat there. Staring at his dad. I thought he might be in shock, so I screamed at him to ring an ambulance and I started CPR.
‘Theo tried to pull me off. I had to punch him in the face to get him to stop. I ended up shouting at Siri on my phone to dial nine-one-one and kept working on John. When the paramedics got there, Theo was starting to come round, and John had a pulse. They said if I hadn’t done CPR, he’d have most certainly died. When they asked Theo what had happened, he said he’d fallen. But he shot me the evilest glare I’ve ever seen. John is alive, but he’s been in a coma since. Theo has stepped in to run the business as if he’s been doing it all his life, but because John is still clinging to life, the board of directors is only letting Theo run the business, they’re not allowing him full access and clearance for everything the company does.’
Damaris paused. It felt wrong talking about this, but Mitch was right. She needed to talk to someone about it.
Not all of it, though, just the basics. I can’t tell them all of it.
‘Theo doesn’t like that my clearance level is higher than his. I’ve been working with John for a long time, he’s friends with my parents, he’s like an uncle to me. Working there has never felt like actual work if that makes sense. I’ve never really gotten along with Theo, but we’ve always been civil. I feel awful for thinking it, but I’m not sure he didn’t do something to John to induce a heart attack. I asked a friend on the police force to look into it as an option, and he must’ve said something to Theo because all of a sudden, he was just gunning for me. He shouted at me in front of everyone, and… I was scared. I rang HR and booked a sabbatical so I had some time to think. They thought it was all down to the stress around John and okayed it without John’s authority. I’ve been checking in on John every day, but there’s no improvement as yet. His wife and daughter are with him constantly. And Theo, of course. At the very least he has to make it look like it’s not what he wanted all along.’
Damaris hated the sound of scorn in her tone, but it was what she felt. That and fear. She’d missed out on a big part of the story about Theo – she just wasn’t ready to face it yet. It took everything in her to dampen the emotion down and not let it overtake her.
Glancing up, she realized both Mitch and his friend, Gabe, knew she was holding something back. She sighed and drew in a shaky breath.
‘When I said Theo had shouted at me, that’s not all that happened. He slapped me and grabbed my hair, yanked my head back so hard I thought my neck was going to break. And he made me log in to the secure system before throwing me to the floor and telling me if he saw me in the building again, he’d kill me. I didn’t want to believe it, it just didn’t seem real.’ A solitary tear fell down her cheek. ‘It’ll kill John when he finds out. He trusts Theo. It’s his son, for God’s sake.’
‘Okay, do you have remote access to your systems? Are you able to show me exactly what it is you’ve been working on?’ Gabe’s voice was calm as he pulled the satellite phone from his backpack.
‘What? No! Did you not hear me tell you that my clearance level is high? I can’t give information out on what I’ve been working on. I could get arrested. You seem like you’re ex-military, surely you understand that.’
‘Military? What gave it away? I was a SEAL, Damaris, and Mitch here was a Ranger. Do you know what black ops are?’
Damaris nodded slowly. ‘Super-secret missions where hardly anyone knows the details and they’re not admitted to by the government. At least that’s what I understand from movies like Bourne Identity anyway.’
‘Good. My company works with various levels of security for everyone from the President to the King of England. We require clearance levels far surpassing your own to be able to carry out our job. Without me divulging too much, I presume that’s enough information to confirm you won’t be breaking any laws in telling us what you were working on?’
Damaris’s jaw dropped. ‘You’re kidding, right? You can’t just walk in here and expect me to believe that cockamamy story? Does anyone fall for that and spill their secrets with that line?’
Both Mitch and Gabe stared at her patiently, and slowly the doubt crept in, and she realized it was a totally absurd story if it wasn’t true. But she still felt like she couldn’t just volunteer the information freely. She knew it could endanger people who were still situated in foreign countries – people like those very black ops operatives that Gabe had mentioned.
Gabe sighed and pressed the call button on his mobile.
‘Sir, Gabriel Bland… the eighteenth hole on the golf course, huh? Well, hopefully your swing will be for the win… no, I’m sure they don’t just let you win, sir…. My reason for calling, yes, of course. It’s just to confirm to a lovely lady named Damaris what my clearance level is – I think she needs confirmation before she’ll pass over information that would help her…. Yes, of course, one moment…’
Turning toward Damaris, he held out the satellite phone. ‘The President would like to speak to you.’
Damaris’s heart all but dropped through her stomach to the floor as she took the phone and squeaked a high-pitched ‘Hello.’
‘Damaris? Very unusual name – do you know to whom you’re speaking?’
The breath rushed out of her lungs as she realized it was, indeed, the President’s voice on the line.
‘I know Gabe seems a bit, well, rough around the edges shall we say, but there’s no better man you’d want in your corner. He’s saved my hide more than once. Is speaking to me confirmation enough that you can trust what he says?’
‘Uh-huh,’ she squeaked again, handing the phone back to Gabe.
‘Thanks very much, sir…. Yes, of course we’re still on for dinner next week. I have someone I’d very much like you to meet. Thank you, sir. Apologies for interrupting your game.’
‘The President. You have a direct line to the freaking President?’ Damaris leaned back and rubbed her hands over her eyes.
‘Yes. Now, do you want to tell me what you’ve been working on? It might have something to do with whoever was after you today?’
‘It’s not that complicated. I’ve been assessing past military reports for the war in Afghanistan and assessing whether the IEDs that killed US soldiers were Taliban or ISIS. It’s using a simple algorithm to check the make, severity, the number of people killed, and whether anyone claimed the kills. It’s basic geographical profiling. Nothing that would impact anything adversely, and I can’t see that it would cause someone to come after me. The reports I’m looking at are pretty historic. Most are over five years old. Most have been Taliban, as expected, but there have been instances where it looks outwardly like they could have been ISIS based, which can throw the fox in the hen house because most people don’t even know ISIS was a thing then. A couple have thrown up anomalies which may need further investigation, but that’s normal given the data I’m assessing.’
‘Okay, and you can’t think of what the “it” is that the guy who attacked you was on about? You’ve got nothing in your belongings with you that you wouldn’t normally carry?’
‘Only my puzzle box, and I doubt very much anyone would be after that. It’s a gift from my parents, it came the morning I left on sabbatical, so I shoved it in my pack. They take me a while to do, but it’s something my mom and dad send me whenever they’re away. Mom normally hides a trinket or a note inside. They’re in Egypt at the minute on a dig – they’re archaeologists.’
‘Egypt? What kind of dig?’
‘They’re searching for a tomb for a prince, one of the Rameses bloodlines. Not sure which line, but they seemed excited about it when I spoke to them a few days ago. You don’t think that’s linked to this, surely? My parents have never broken a rule in their life, I can’t imagine for one moment that they’d be wrapped up in anything that would have these kinds of repercussions.’ Damaris sighed. ‘That said, I could never have imagined any of this would happen when I arranged this sabbatical. I had planned a month researching and finishing the profile, and then planning and reassessing what I want to do. As much as I adore John, I just can’t keep working there with Theo around. It’s too much.’
Her voice softened at the last sentence, and she knew she’d almost given something away when Mitch’s eyes narrowed as he watched her. There was still one last aspect of her run-in with Theo that she hadn’t disclosed. And had no intention of doing so. Suppressing the shudder that threatened to ripple over her, she stared at the wolf on the floor. His muzzle had red staining around the gum, and she realized that it was blood. Blood from the man who had pretended to be someone he wasn’t.
‘So, are your powers enough that you can test DNA?’ she asked Gabe pointedly, doing an excellent job of diverting attention from herself.
Chapter Seven
Harland Inn, Mount Hood Village
J ordan checked the seal on the door to his room at the inn cautiously. It was unlikely that anyone would have broken in, but he liked to be certain. The cotton he’d strategically placed around the hinge was intact and showed no disturbance. He breathed a slight sigh of relief and made his way inside.
He switched on the light, drew the drapes, and got a towel from the bathroom. He winced, gently easing his arms out of his jacket and checked shirt. The dressing he’d applied when he’d stopped had turned red; his arm was bleeding again. He needed to treat it sooner rather than later, so he laid the towel on the bed and sat next to the pillows. He carefully peeled the dressing back, revealing congealed blood and deep lacerations on his arm. They oozed, and a couple of blood drops fell onto the towel, stark against the rough white cotton.
This is going to hurt.
Before he could change his mind, he snagged the bottle of Jack from the bedside table and downed a hefty glug before pouring some over the wounds. His muscles tensed, and he exhaled a long breath. Even as the whiskey warmed his insides, his arm burned painfully.
They’re gonna pay for this, both that gimp and Damaris fucking Rivers.
He picked up the vial of doxycycline and measured a dose into a sterile syringe. Without even a flinch, he pushed the needle into his upper arm and depressed the plunger. He took some gauze, cleaned the wounds, and assessed the damage. His forearm was pretty mangled, and two of the lacerations needed stitching. Another gulp of Jack, and he deftly threaded the needle and got to work. Twenty minutes later, his arm was stitched and dressed, and not for the first time in his life, he was grateful to be mostly ambidextrous. Being a lefty with a left arm injury wouldn’t have boded well for most if they’d had to stitch with their right.
His stomach growled loudly, reminding him he hadn’t eaten since early that morning. He covered the bandage in another checked shirt from his closet, collected wallet from the nightstand, locked the door behind him, and reset the cotton thread on the hinge before heading to the diner across from the inn.
Jordan flashed a smile at the waitress and waited to be seated, pleased to see it was the same one who had been on the day before. She’d been flirting with him a little and had even passed him a free piece of pie. She grinned back at him and made her way over.
‘Well, hey there, handsome, I hoped you’d be back in tonight. Same booth okay with you?’
‘That would be perfect, Corinne. Thank you kindly.’
He followed her to the booth at the far wall, sitting so he faced the whole diner.
Zero chance of anyone sneaking up on me in here.
Corinne poured him a coffee, remembering he liked it black, and placed the pot on the table. She pulled the notebook from her apron and smiled at him expectantly.
She’d go anywhere with me just now. The haunted look in her eyes says she would rather be anywhere than here, and those pinprick pupils… well, a little drug-related enticement wouldn’t go amiss, I’m sure. It would be sooooo easy… no one would even need to know.
Jordan gave himself a shake, though. This wasn’t the time or place for a bit of recreational play. Even though she was exactly the type he liked to play with.
‘I’ll take a loaded house special burger, with fries and ketchup on the side, please, Corinne.’
She blushed at him adding her name at the end.
‘No problem. I didn’t catch your name yesterday. I feel awful rude you knowing my name and me not knowing yours.’ The pen slipped from her fingers and clattered to the floor. ‘I’m so clumsy. Excuse me while I reach it. It’s fallen between your feet.’
Jordan’s cock stood to attention. Corinne’s pretty blonde curls dipped below the edge of the table, and for a moment he let himself imagine what her pouty mouth would feel like wrapped around his cock. His errant thoughts waned when she brazenly ran her hand up the inside of his calf, pretending to search for the missing pen. If there was one thing he couldn’t stand, it was women who were too forward.
