Chilled (Bone Secrets, #2)(62)

“It was nothing.” Alex looked away.

“You probably stopped Besand from killing a lot of other people.”

I didn’t stop him soon enough. His gut wrenched as looked back to Jim, silently transmitting those words.

“I’m sorry about your brother, Alex.”

Now pity did flash in Jim’s eyes. Alex turned away from him and started back up the hill. He said over his shoulder, “Don’t worry. I’ll tell Brynn the truth.”

“Hang on. I want to get these guys’ IDs. There’s a chance we might not be back.”

Jim ducked back into the cockpit while Alex waited. He could help Jim get the pilots’ drivers’ licenses, but he really didn’t want to go back in there. Breathing was difficult. The cockpit was so tiny and those bodies…

“Alex! Come look at this!”

Jim sounded like he’d been punched in the stomach. Alex’s teeth ground as he whirled around and took two leaping steps back to the cockpit.

He knew it would be bad.

Paul Whittenhall’s mood was black.

The damn rescue team was unreachable. He hadn’t heard a word from his own two-man team, and Regan Simmons had spent the night with the cameraman from CNN.

Paul had been awake most of the night expecting her to call or knock on his door, and she hadn’t done either. After the dirty looks he’d shot her at yesterday’s press conference because of her comments about Darrin Besand on the plane, what’d he expect? If looks could kill, she’d be slaughtered. And he thought she’d return to his bed?

How stupid was he?

Two new deputy marshals were manning the outpost from Antarctica with him. He didn’t know either very well. They were new to Oregon and not men he considered part of his inner circle. He gave them strict instructions not to talk to anyone, especially media, and left them alone. They’d spent most of the time in one of the federal SUVs. They’d tried to hide their DVD player, but Paul had seen it and knew they were watching one of the Die Hard movies.

He glanced at the black Suburban. One of the men threw his head back and laughed at something on-screen. Paul wanted to strangle him out of sheer boredom and stress. But there was nothing else for the men to do. Why not watch a movie?

Paul stomped around the vehicles. He’d made a path over the last few hours and continued to stomp down the fresh snow as it fell. Every few laps he’d stop and brush the snow off his own Suburban. And a few other cars. He had too much restless energy. If he were a decade younger and knew the slightest bit about winter survival he would’ve gone in after Kinton. He had too much to lose if Kinton and Besand crossed paths now.

Besand had to be dead.

“Whittenhall!”

Paul turned at the voice of the sheriff.

Sheriff Collins looked tired. The skin around his eyes was tight, like it was tired of holding open the lids. His mouth was pressed closed so firmly his lips were nearly hidden.

“Sheriff?”

Collins glanced over Paul’s shoulder at the Suburban with the two agents inside. “They watching anything good?”

Paul shrugged. “Die Hard.”

Collins relaxed slightly. “I wouldn’t mind a little John McClane right now. Anything to get my mind off this shit.”

Paul nodded. The sheriff wanted to make small talk? He didn’t believe it for a second.

“I’ve just heard about that chopper that flew overhead yesterday. Remember?”

Paul’s spine tightened, and he nodded again.

“Was a pair of local boys. Both pilots. One’s from the air force rescue squadron up north. His brother flew the two of them out to look for that downed plane.”

Paul grew hot in the icy air. “Air force? You knew about that?”

“I know who Liam and his brother, Tyrone, are. We’ve used them before in rescues. I didn’t know that was them in that bird yesterday.” Collins’s eyes darted to the left and Paul knew he was lying. The sheriff had known exactly who’d flown overhead and why. “The rescue squadron didn’t sanction that flight. It was just two boys trying to help out on their own.”

“They find anything?”

Paul hadn’t thought it was possible, but Collins grew more grim. “They haven’t been heard from. They were supposed to return yesterday. No one can raise them.”

Paul stared. “So now you’ve got two aircraft down in those woods.”

Collins met the stare. “Yes, I do.”

“Any more aircraft going up today?” He deliberately drew out the words.

Collins shook his head. “Not in this weather. I don’t know what got into their heads to try to fly yesterday.” His eyes went to the left again and Paul wondered what he was holding back.

“Press know this?”

“No.” Collins looked like a beaten dog.

“Gonna mention it in your next conference?”

Collins winced. “Don’t know. Their families need to be told first. And those boys weren’t part of this process. They were acting on their own.”

“Looks like you’ve got another rescue to organize.”

Anger flashed in the sheriff’s eyes. “I don’t know that they went down for sure. I’ve got people on the phone trying to find them. They might be holed up in a hotel with a couple of pretty women, waiting out the storm.”