Chilled (Bone Secrets, #2)(28)

Kiana liked him back. Of course, Kiana liked everybody. She gave Thomas a wide berth for reasons unknown, but she joyfully accepted everyone else.

Brynn’s heart contracted painfully. What was Alex thinking as he worked his way down the mountain? With no answers to Jim’s calls, he had to know his friend probably hadn’t survived. All odds were against them finding a survivor in the wreck. Especially if it had gone down as roughly as it looked.

She watched Alex wipe at the sweat on his brow and saw his hand shake.

“Hey.” She surprised herselfby speaking and laying a hand on his arm. “Why don’t you stay back until I check the wreckage?”

His brows went up. “It’s all right. I’m good with it.”

“No, seriously. Why don’t you hang back for a few minutes?” When he’d first told them about his friend on the plane, he’d briefly revealed a soul-deep ache in his eyes that still echoed in her memory. Obviously there’d been a tight bond between him and the other agent.

“He’s a good friend, right?”

Alex seemed confused for a split second. “Oh. Yeah, he was a good friend.” Brynn couldn’t identify the emotion that flashed on his face, and it stabbed at her soul that he’d already referred to the marshal in past tense.

Jim and Thomas were nearly to the cockpit. She watched as they both drew their weapons. She shook her head.

“They’re doing the right thing.” Alex’s face showed no emotion as he watched the men. He imitated them and drew his gun from his pocket. “Are you armed?”

“No.”

“Then stay behind me.”

She let him take the lead and rolled her eyes at his back.

“And don’t roll your eyes at me.” He looked over his shoulder at her, his eyes sharp. “There was a dangerous killer on this plane. You won’t think this is funny if he’s sitting inside waiting for us with a gun in his hand.”

“Wait!” She grabbed at his coat. “You know who was on the plane? You said you didn’t.”

He blew out a harsh breath. “No one needed to know who it was. The mission’s the same whether you know his name or not.”

Icy fear crept up her spine for the first time since the log crossing. “Who?”

Alex swallowed, paused, and looked back at the plane, speaking away from her. “Darrin Besand.”

Brynn halted. “The serial killer?”

Alex nodded as he stepped closer to the plane.

Brynn glanced around, studying the trees and big rocks cropping up out of the snow. An overwhelming urge to hide and get out of sight ripped through every nerve ending. Besand was ruthless. She felt like hundreds of eyes spied on her from behind the trees. She moved closer to Alex’s back.

For the first time in her life, she wished she had a gun.

Darrin Besand rubbed at his eyes and stared harder through the binoculars he’d found in the pilot’s bag. He lowered them and looked over the top of the binoculars, but he was too far away. Without the magnification he could only see bright bits of red against the snow. And one man in blue. He brought the binoculars to his eyes and focused again.

I’m seeing things.

But it sure looked like Alex Kinton cautiously stepping toward the plane wreck with his gun drawn and his other hand moving protectively at the woman behind him. At first glance, Darrin had thought the woman was a man. She was definitely tall enough. But long, dark blonde hair peeked out of the hood around her face and she moved with a feminine grace. He’d studied her for a few moments, enjoying the view before moving his sights to the person in front of her; his stomach had dropped in shock.

Darrin’s heart sped into a steady double-time beat as he stared through the binoculars. He was fortunate. First he’d survived a plane crash that had killed three men, and now Alex Kinton was strolling across his path.

The first time he’d met Alex three years ago, Darrin had never sensed so much pain and suffering emanating from a single person. And Darrin had never laid a hand on him. Usually that powerful and strong emotion was a type he’d only felt from his victims. Alex had been in mourning for his younger brother, seeking answers and someone to blame for Samuel’s death. Seeing the grief and torment in Alex’s eyes had been like a hit of pure meth. Darrin had wanted more.

Later on in prison, Darrin had rehearsed his words, ready to prod the federal marshal during their scheduled monthly meetings, to cause that flash of fire and rage that gave Darrin the high he could no longer coax from his victims. Alex’s prison visits were the only interesting events in Darrin’s life. All other days were gray and dull. To experience that blast of fear, sorrow, and rage from another person was better than sex. To say he looked forward to his conversations with Alex was putting it mildly. But there was a price for Alex’s visits. Darrin had to reveal facts about some of his previous kills; otherwise, Alex would leave. That was the unwritten rule for the meetings to continue. Facts detectives couldn’t figure out on their own. Alex hand delivered the information to the various police departments who wanted to solve their cases. Darrin refused to talk to anyone else.

Darrin watched Alex through the binoculars and felt a spiking rush of power in his veins.

Alex’s personal investigating had been what landed him in prison in the first place. Simply because Alex had caught him on a minute piece of evidence.