Deadly Promises (Tracers #2.5)(82)

Gage stared at her. It was like she’d reached out and slapped him. Had Joe told her about Adam Mays? Or was his paranoid imagination screwing with him again?

“Sorry. Too much information, right?” She gave him a phony smile. “When you asked about San Diego, you probably wanted to talk about the Padres, huh?”

The sat phone rang and she jumped up to answer it, saving him from a response. It was the DNA woman, Mia, and Gage distracted himself by listening in on their conversation.

“That’s right, two,” Kelsey said. “We discovered the second grave late this afternoon, but I didn’t want to start in case we got rain tonight… Yes… Uh-huh. It’s been disturbed by animals.” She moved to the window. “Say that again? It’s raining here and my reception’s bad.”

Gage watched her talk to her friend. She rested her hand on her hip and tipped her head to the side, as if considering something. She wore shorts again tonight, and he couldn’t stop looking at her legs. That first day, he’d thought they were skinny, but now he knew there was nothing skinny about her. She had the perfect body—all long, slender limbs and squeezable curves.

She caught him staring and he looked away.

“Gage found it, using a metal detector. It was near some spent shell casings. When we excavate tomorrow, I won’t be surprised if we find a slug mixed in with the bones.” She turned her back on him and parted the blinds to peer out the window. “Oh. Yeah, he’s… he’s new on the dig.”

Gage let his gaze roam around her camper as she exchanged shop talk with Mia. Her computer was stowed in the corner, atop a pile of files. Towers of books lined the walls. The sleeping bag he’d used last night had been rolled up neatly and tossed beside a stack of archaeology journals. Gage sighed. This had never happened before. Most of the women he dated tended toward the vapid, cheerleader type, groupies who hung around Coronado for the express purpose of picking up SEALs.

Kelsey was about the least vapid woman he’d ever met, and she in no way resembled a cheerleader. Gage would be willing to bet she’d spent all of high school with her nose in a book.

He looked at her legs again. For the first time in his life he’d fallen in lust with a nerd.

“I’m getting that advice from all sides now,” Kelsey told her friend. “I’m moving tonight. I’m sure I’ll be safe and sound at the lodge, so you can quit worrying.”

She turned to face him when she got off the phone. “That was Mia. She wants that second set of bones as soon as I get them excavated. The FBI’s been calling her.”

“The FBI?”

“Something about a missing-person’s case. Mia thinks the missing person could be one of their agents. They’re really pressuring her for an ID.”

The sat phone rang again and she picked it up.

“Hello?” She listened neutrally for a moment, and then her face clouded with worry. “Are you sure? Rohit said—” She paused, then crossed the trailer and jerked the door open. Rain pelted it as she peered outside. “Well, he’s not here. Have you tried the lodge?” She closed the door and shot Gage an anxious look. “Okay, call me if you find him.”

“Dylan’s still AWOL?” he said after she hung up.

“He’s not at the bar, the diner, or the lodge.”

“Car trouble, maybe?”

“No one spotted him on the way into town.”

Gage’s gaze settled on the camera that was sitting on a chair beside Kelsey’s baseball cap, and something he’d wondered about this afternoon was back in his head.

“Maybe he never went to town,” he said.

“Where else would he go? There aren’t a lot of options around here.”

“I’m not sure.” He stood up and grabbed his keys off the table. “But I’ve got an idea.”

IN THE FADING light the petroglyphs looked oddly modern, like some strange graffiti made by pre-Columbian teenagers. Kelsey stepped back from the rocks, trying to imagine where Dylan would have stood to capture the most impressive angle.

“Are we sure he was up here earlier?” she asked Gage.

“You said that, not me. I haven’t seen the guy today.”

She surveyed the area for clues. “He said he was coming up here. His research includes these engravings.”

“Well, his footprints are here.”

She turned to Gage.

“Two sets of tracks, one coming in, one going out. Keen hiking boots, size ten.”

She gaped at him. “You know his shoe size?”

He shrugged. “It’s an estimate. But the boots, I know. I noticed them the other day because I used to have a pair.” Gage pointed to a footprint in the dust. The limestone overhang had kept the rain from obliterating it. “See that? The logo’s part of the tread.”

She looked at him with a renewed sense of appreciation. Her “hired hunk of muscle” comment had been way off base, and she felt a twinge of remorse. How would she have felt if he referred to her as a piece of meat? But he’d treated her with nothing but respect since his arrival. He was firm, yes, but always respectful.

Gage was looking out over the valley now. He glanced at her over his shoulder. “Come here for a sec.”

“What?”

He took her arm and tugged her over, then turned her until she was facing due south. He left his hands on her shoulders and she pretended to be relaxed.