Chilled (Bone Secrets, #2)(61)

Had someone beaten them to it?

The snow turned everything an innocent white. But tension hung in the air around the cockpit. Maybe it was simply from knowing there were two dead men still sitting in their seats and a third laid out on the floor. They’d argued about putting the men in better positions. Courtesy to the remains of a fellow human. But the pilot’s legs were horribly mangled in with the wreckage. Getting him loose would have been a messy chore. They’d reluctantly decided to leave them as they were.

Jim motioned Alex behind him and took the lead as they neared the plane. Alex wanted to argue, but he let him lead. He was part of Jim’s team, and Jim had impressed him several times with his leadership skills. And Jim was a cop. Not unemployed, former law enforcement like Alex.

The path Jim and Thomas had made yesterday was gone, buried in the fresh snow. Alex strained his eyes trying to see a new path made by different feet that had entered or left the plane. Blue shadows were everywhere in the snow, making him see footprints where there were none. His breathing seemed too loud in the quiet Christmas card setting; inside his head he sounded like a train struggling to make it up a long, steep hill.

Jim looked over his shoulder. Alex nodded and stepped to cover Jim as he turned the corner and pointed his gun into the open back of the cockpit. Every fiber of Alex’s being strained to hear. The inside of the cockpit was silent. Jim motioned him in. The two men studied the interior. Linus was still stretched out on the floor where Jim and Thomas had placed him yesterday after he’d been tossed out by the avalanche.

“Has anything been moved?” Alex asked.

Jim continued to examine the inside, his gaze constantly moving and sweeping. “I can’t tell. The wind’s blown some snow in. But I would think there would be more. You know how windy it got last night.”

Alex nodded. Three-quarters of the ripped entry to the cockpit was blocked by a bank of snow. It had been totally blocked until Jim and Thomas dug it out. His neck prickled again and he swung around, his gaze tracking the tree line.

Nothing.

“Fuck this. There’s no one here. There wasn’t anyone here last night. If Besand was on that plane—” Jim started to say.

“He was on it. He took Linus’s gun.”

“Well he’s gone now. He left before we got here yesterday. And unless he found a tent or tarp to sleep in overnight, we’re going to stumble across a human Popsicle on our way out. More likely a hunter or hiker will find him this summer.” Jim kicked at the snow. “Let’s get back and get packed. We need to head out too.”

“You think Ryan is ready?”

Jim frowned. “He seemed better last night. I’ll see how he feels this morning.” A myriad of emotions flickered on Jim’s face. Concern, determination, and exhaustion. “One more thing.”

“Yeah?”

“Brynn still believes you’re a marshal.”

Alex didn’t say anything.

“She might suspect something though. I nearly told her.”

“I’ll tell her.” Alex had never felt the loss of his job so keenly as at this exact moment. He had nothing but an inner burn to stand face-to-face with his brother’s killer.

When that was accomplished he’d start his life over. Concentrate on his computer game development. It had always been a hobby. An excellent-paying hobby. He had no worries about retirement, and he’d always enjoyed it better than the security programs he wrote. Could he stick to it as a career?

Most definitely. He stood straighter.

His life wasn’t completely about Darrin Besand. Not quite.

But Besand had been his primary focus for two years. Especially the last year. That couldn’t be healthy, so much negativity flowing through his brain and heart. He’d spent the last year getting as close as possible to the scumbag. Visiting him in prison and following him to different states as he stood trial for his crimes. They’d developed a sort of sick repartee. Alex had nearly begged for any crumbs of information Darrin would drop about his crimes that Alex could pass along to detectives. Darrin had always gloated, feeding off Alex’s pain.

Darrin had revealed the hiding places of two female bodies in Arizona during one particularly upsetting exchange. For those women Alex had traded stories of his wife’s dislike of Samuel, ripping open fresh emotional wounds to bleed all over the prison floor. But Alex’s suffering was worth it. If he could alleviate the pain of other families then he’d gladly sacrifice some time being mentally poked at by a killer. It was almost as if he was seeking absolution for not listening to Samuel, for not letting him live in his home. Yes, he was experiencing mental and emotional pain through the process, but helping solve Darrin’s other crimes made it worth it.

But each session’s aftermath was hard.

Alex had to shower for extended periods of time after being in the same room with the killer. Or swim in his hotel’s pool. Lots of chlorine seemed to destroy the stench of Darrin’s ego. But nothing had completely helped with the cling of despair that swamped Alex after those meetings.

“Christ. It’s not the end of the world.” Jim was staring at him, studying his face.

Alex jerked. “My mind’s somewhere else.”

Alex met Jim’s gaze, but there was no pity, only strength.

“Besand’s last assumed victim was a male. I remember it. I also remember the vic’s brother was instrumental in getting Besand arrested. Something about DNA evidence even though it didn’t link Besand to that last murder. You were all over the news for a while. No wonder Sheriff Collins thought you looked familiar when you first met.”