Deadly Promises (Tracers #2.5)(89)

“Can we get back, please?” she asked. “I’m freezing here.”

In the darkness, he muttered a curse. He walked over to her, hooked her hand onto his belt as it had been before, and set out for camp.

KELSEY WAS STILL shaking when she whipped her battered Chevy Suburban into the parking lot of the Madrone Hunting Lodge. Fear, embarrassment, anxiety—plus a major dose of adrenaline—were knocking around in her system, making it nearly impossible for her to focus on the task at hand. After enduring an extremely awkward car ride, she now had to relay tonight’s discoveries to the sheriff. What had she been thinking? She couldn’t have come up with a worse, more inappropriate time to throw herself at a man.

“Aw, shit,” Gage said—his first words in half an hour.

The night manager was just switching off the light above the reception desk as Kelsey pulled into a space. Before she’d even parked Gage jumped out of the Suburban and rushed for the door.

Kelsey collected her overnight bag from the backseat and cast a worried look around the full parking lot. Dr. Robles had left a note saying he’d be staying here, and she hoped to hell he hadn’t gotten the last room.

A black Explorer on the far end of the lot caught her eye. In the back window was a university parking sticker. Kelsey slammed her door and walked toward the vehicle, a dizzying combination of relief and anger flooding through her. She stopped in front of room 109 and pounded on the door.

A light went on. Shuffling. A curse as someone stumbled over something. Then the blinds parted and Jeannie peered through the gap. She unlatched the door.

“Dr. Quinn.” Her eyes widened as they took in Kelsey’s sodden clothes. “Oh my God you’re bleeding.”

Kelsey nodded at the man sprawled out on the bed amid the rumpled sheets. Dylan didn’t even stir. “Where’s he been all night?” Kelsey demanded.

“Here with me. And everyone.” Jeannie looked sheepish. “See, after our fight? He drove into Marathon to shoot some pool. He came back, though.” She smiled apologetically. “We tried to call you but you didn’t pick up, so—”

“The next person to leave the dig site without signing out will receive an F for the summer. Do you understand?”

She nodded silently.

“Tell your boyfriend.”

Kelsey turned and strode back to the lobby, practically vibrating with fury. If anyone so much as looked at her crosswise she was going to explode.

Gage stepped through the front door of the motel and spotted her. Then his gaze shifted over her shoulder and he no doubt spotted the black Explorer.

“Dylan’s back,” she said crisply. “Guess it was someone else’s SUV I saw earlier.”

He handed her a room key and frowned. “You okay?”

“Fine.”

“Mind if I borrow your car? I need to run an errand.”

“Knock yourself out. Good night.” She tossed the car keys at him. He caught them one-handed and she stormed off. The clunky wooden key chain was shaped like a deer and had the number 102 painted on it. Terrific. Right by the lobby, where she’d be sure to get plenty of traffic noise at six a.m.

Kelsey let herself into the room. It smelled like must and pineapple, of all things. She switched on a lamp and threw her bag on the ugly yellow bedspread.

At least Dylan was safe. One potential heart attack down, one to go. Kelsey rummaged through her bag until she found her cell phone. Of course, it had no charge from sitting useless for weeks on end. She jammed the charger into an outlet by the bed and dialed Sattler’s number with the cord plugged in. Four rings. Five. Kelsey toed off her Nikes and kicked them across the room. Finally, on the seventh ring, a deputy picked up. After a brief hesitation, he gave her Sattler’s home phone number, along with the warning that the sheriff didn’t like to be bothered at home unless it was an emergency.

Kelsey stripped off her soggy T-shirt and tossed it on the chair. She dialed Sattler with one hand while searching through her bag for some dry clothes. She still had the shakes, and she wondered whether discovering a covert border crossing and having her ass nearly shot off by men with machine guns constituted an emergency in Seco County. Apparently it did.

“I’ll get out there first thing in the morning, have a look around.”

The sheriff’s patient drawl grated on her nerves.

“Are you sure that’s the best approach?” she asked him. “I mean, shouldn’t you call Customs and Border Protection or something?” She pulled off a bloody sock and tossed it in the trash can, along with its nonbloody mate. “It seems evident that these roadside deaths might be related and—”

“Why don’t you let us worry ’bout that? You stick to your bones.”

Kelsey managed not to hurl the phone across the room. “I’m only suggesting that—”

She heard a noise and turned around to see the door opening. Her pulse leapt as Gage stepped into the room, pulling a key from the lock.

“We’ll take care of it, Dr. Quinn. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

The phone went silent in her hand. Gage tossed her car keys on the table and leaned back against the door. His gaze met hers across the king-size bed.

“That was Sattler.” Her pulse pounded as she clicked off the phone and put it on the nightstand. “He’s going to check out the tunnel tomorrow morning.”