Deadly Fate (Krewe of Hunters #19)(30)

She was, he thought, in her right to be angry. But she didn’t understand that everything in their world was a “might be” until it could be proved as fact.

He turned his attention from the window to her and almost smiled. Her blue eyes were shimmering with indignation. Her hands were balled into fists at her sides, and she almost looked like a mud wrestler about to go into action.

“I’m sorry if I’ve offended you,” he said. “Until something is proven, it’s theory. Your theories are not without sound merit.”

His answer seemed to puzzle her—at the least, deflate her.

“They’re still checking the island,” he told her. “We’ll keep searching it. The problem is, of course, that the nooks and crannies and coves that lead to the water are as plentiful as the hiding places. In winter...well, in winter, it’s doubtful this would have happened. Even the heartiest native might well freeze to death out in the wild. But it’s summer. The water between here and the mainland—in several directions—is clear. Someone could have come and gone.”

“Like they did from the Alaska Hut last night?” she asked evenly.

He looked back at her and nodded, not sure why she had managed to evoke hostility in him.

It was fear—fear for her. Because he’d seen Mandy Brandt in a dream again last night.

And, of course, it was the fact that both he and Jackson felt like they were on a tightrope.

Because Tate Morley was out.

Naturally, they’d kept abreast of the situation. Agents, US marshals and police from every city, county and state were on the lookout. They were following every clue.

But Tate Morley had covered his tracks, becoming a doctor, covering up the corpse of the doctor and even signing himself out of the prison.

All done with an hour to spare before his subterfuge had been discovered.

There was no reason to suspect that he might have been in Alaska.

But there was no reason to believe that he might not have gotten here—and come specifically to kill the man who had caused his incarceration.

Thor.

He wasn’t worried for himself; he knew Morley, knew how he moved, talked and even thought. He never slept without his Glock in easy reach. His home had alarms up the wazoo.

He knew, too, that Morley wouldn’t want to just kill him.

He would want to torture him.

Torture would mean killing others.

Theory! he mocked himself. He’d been irritated with Clara for her assumptions, but all this was simply what he believed—conjecture, until they had proof.

“That’s theory, too, at the moment,” he said quietly. “We’ll get you back to the mainland now, Miss Avery. I’m going to explore your suppositions as well as my own, I promise.”

She turned away for a minute and then looked back at him. “You’re staying here? To search the island?”

“Yes—since it’s quite possible there is someone else out here.”

“I’ll stay, too.”

“There’s no reason for you to do so.”

“Oh, yes, there is.”

“What?”

“I am not going to be alone when a ghost comes back!”

He smiled at that. Maybe she was right. The ghost might be the one element that could give them something that was fact rather than theory.

“The problem is, we can’t be with you—even here on the island. I plan to head out on a snowmobile and cover all the territory, all the nooks and crannies—”

“But you can’t look at night,” she told him.

“You know, ghosts can come by daylight, too.”

She had a stubborn look about her then. She stared at him and then winced and looked down. “I’m not as terrified in the daylight as I am at night.”

“Night is only about three hours this time of year.”

“Twilight comes in the early hours—and at night.”

He turned away from her. There was really no reason she couldn’t stay. He knew well that Marc Kimball would be more than happy if she did. And the Alaska Hut would require the presence of officers for at least the next twenty-four hours.

“All right,” he said.

“What?” she asked.

“All right. If you want to be here, you can.”

She let out a sigh of relief. “The others have gone, right? My only problem is that I don’t have any clothing... I don’t have...my things.”

“So, I guess you’ll have to go back.”

“But you don’t have clothing or your things!” she said. “You’re going to have to go back, too. And Natalie Fontaine was killed, same style more or less, back on the mainland, and there will be some kind of meeting or briefing and—”

“You’ve been watching too much television,” he said.

She smiled; it was a beautiful smile. “But, I’m right!” she said.

“Right about what?” Jackson said as he came around to meet them. He looked from Clara to Thor.

“What’s going on?” Jackson asked.

“Clara wants to stay on the island,” Thor told him.

Jackson seemed to weigh the information. “Might be for the best,” he said.

“Might not. This is an island. Even with law enforcement running around, we’re not on the mainland. We don’t have the same access to services, we don’t—”