Havoc by Shannon McKenna
4
Mace waited in the darkness until he was sure that Caitlin LaMott had found her flashlight and was making her way safely back toward the cavern’s entrance.
It went against his instincts to let her just walk away unprotected, knowing that Kimball was watching, licking his chops. But if she went in and didn’t go out, or if Kimball saw him come out without seeing him go in, Kimball would guess that he had an alternate entrance.
As soon as Caitlin had staggered out into the big open front chamber of the cave, he gently shifted the loose slab of concrete forward, opening a space just big enough for his body. His wormhole took him all the way back to a room which connected a tunnel which had survived the explosives he’d set himself, thirteen years before.
The night of the GodsAcre fire.
This tunnel went all the way down to the bottom of the Upper Falls, and it was smooth and familiar. He barely needed the flashlight. He’d get down way ahead of her, and lurk there, out of sight, but close enough to intervene if Kimball ended up moving on her more quickly than Mace had anticipated.
Wow. His nose was still bleeding. He was going to have kitten scratches on his cheek for Nate and his brothers to give him shit about.
He was still sweaty and buzzed from that strange encounter. Which he had fucked up royally. Not too surprisingly. Camping alone up here, he’d forgotten what limited social skills he’d managed to pick up in the outside world. They were perishable skills.
What had possessed him to jump on her like that? He’d let instinct lead him, and he’d crashed and burned. His instincts almost never led him wrong. They’d saved his life on many occasions. First as a Marine, then in Marine Force Recon, and in the years he’d been running Trask Executive Solutions, his small mercenary company.
The initial impulse had just been to keep her from screaming. Then, to keep her from running away without hurting her. He hadn’t expected her to fight so damn hard. She was very strong. And well-made. Better not to think about that. A bombshell babe like that would eat him for breakfast if he looked at her crosswise. Hard not to look, though.
Of course, he could have just waited and let her be the bait that drew Kimball out, without even engaging with her at all. But he’d abandoned that option quickly. Kimball would probably only send more of his endless supply of henchmen to get her. The poor woman would die a bad death for nothing, and they would never know her secrets.
He emerged from the tunnel and into the dim cave full of mist, the roaring curtain of the Upper Falls. He ran right through the lightest part of the waterfall as quickly as he could and sprinted toward the closest cover.
He scanned the hill above with his binoculars, and spotted her on the hillside.
Relief flooded him. A big, hot rush of it. The intensity startled him. He barely knew this woman, and she’d shredded his face. Kneed him in the balls. It’s not like they’d clicked.
But she represented forward movement. A break in the impasse. He had to get her on board before Kimball sank his fangs into her. She might be the edge that they needed.
Mace moved down the hill alongside her, at a discreet distance, making sure that no one else was following her. Of course, there was no way to be sure that Kimball wasn’t surveilling the river canyon, but Mace doubted it. Kimball covered the area with intermittent drone flights, several times a day. Mace didn’t see any of them now.
She couldn’t see him, but she herself was visible from a mile away in that lavender jacket. She hadn’t been thinking in defensive terms when she outfitted herself for this mission. But he’d bet she’d learn fast.
He stroked throbbing scratches on his cheek. Tall, luscious, curvy, tough as fuck. He was enormous himself, so he liked a woman with substance. Not that he’d been lucky enough to cop a feel when she was in his arms. He’d barely survived the encounter.
Damn. Stimulating. He was kinkier than he knew. Big hazel eyes, full, luscious lips, tight, bouncy black ringlets, golden skin with dark freckles, and a generous dash of homicidal, man-killing mayhem, just to keep things spicy.
The woman was slowing down as she reached the bottom of the canyon. Spring floods had pulled down rotting timber, and it was piled every which way, so she had to do a lot of scrambling. He followed her every move as he considered his options.
If he tried to strong-arm her, she would kick his ass, which was sub-optimal. He didn’t want to hurt her, which meant that he’d end up with a bruised ass. He’d already pissed her off, so it was a little late for a charm offensive. But a dude could try.
He would bet body parts that this woman was not on Kimball’s payroll. She didn’t have the vibe. Kimball attracted sleaze. This girl had a pure, earnest, fiery quality to her. A caped crusader in pink and lavender fleece and Gore Tex. But just because she was a righteous babe didn’t mean her agenda wasn’t a threat to the Trasks.
He had questions.
He was way ahead of her now, and he had about ten minutes before she climbed through all the timber on the canyon floor and got to the place where the river widened. From there, it wasn’t far to where his off-road vehicle was concealed.
He looked her up on his satellite phone to kill some time. Checked out her social media. There was a shot of her, cheek to cheek with one of her girlfriends, holding up a drink with a tuft of mint leaves in it, laughing. That little gap between her two front teeth was cute. He scrolled back to see what she’d posted the last few months. Couldn’t help but notice that there didn’t seem to be a husband or a boyfriend in the mix.
He dug a little more, and found out that she was a researcher in virology and epidemiology at Sebold Labs in Berkeley. She’d studied at Stanford. Interesting.
He selected the number of Elisa’s egghead little brother, Josh, currently studying at MIT. Josh picked up right away. “Hey, Mace. What’s up?”
Josh owed him, ever since Mace had helped Nate and Elisa to spring him out of six months of captivity last year. He’d been locked up by Clemens, Elisa’s fuckhead ex, to control and terrify her. Since that event, Mace shamelessly played that valiant rescuer card to capitalize on Josh’s freakishly big brain, a kick-ass resource. Manipulative, maybe, but too convenient to resist. His own brother Eric was a brainy egghead, too, but Eric was not grateful to Mace for anything, and was far more liable to bust Mace’s balls than to hop to it and help him with any given project.
So Josh’s big brain was much better, for Mace’s purposes.
“There’s this girl. I need you to look up everything there is to know about her,” Mace told him. “I’d also like you to research any way that someone could get money to her, to see if she’s on a secret payroll. Also look into her professional life. Caitlin LaMott with a C-A-I-T-L-I-N, capital M in LaMott. From Berkeley. Scientist. Virology.”
“Yeah, I’m looking at her now. She’s cute. Nice high, pointy ta-tas.”
“Don’t waste your time ogling,” Mace snapped. “I want data.”
“Dude, you do know that I am a software engineer and not a hacker, right?”
“Just help me out, Josh. I’m thigh deep in the mud in the Kettle River Canyon, and I need this info right now.”
“I’ll see what I can find.” Josh’s voice was longsuffering. “Talk to you soon.”
Mace shoved the phone into his coat. Caitlin LaMott had reached the river bed and was looking around, but she still didn’t see him. The Jeremiah Paley effect. He and his brothers had all learned from Jeremiah to be invisible. She walked right past him.
“Right here,” he said.
She jerked around with a shriek. “Holy shit! How do you do that?”
“What?” he asked, all innocence.
“Don’t play dumb with me! You pop up out of nowhere, and disappear the same way. Don’t do that to me again!”
“Sorry,” he murmured.
Her gorgeous hazel eyes narrowed. “If you’re really sorry, give my stuff back.”
Mace took a step toward her, stopping as she shrank away. “I will,” he promised, keeping his voice gentle. “But first, you really need to come with me.”
“Give me my stuff, and I’ll consider it.”
“Tell me why you were in the cave,” he said.
“Tell me why you care,” she retorted.
He let out sharp laugh. “Oh, man. Where do I even begin. One thing is for sure. You’re in serious danger, and we need to move fast.”
“Yes, I remember,” she said. “The ogre who’s coming for me.”
“I know you think I’m a paranoid madman freak, but I swear to God, it’s true.”
They gazed at each other. The river burbled and rushed behind them. He needed to regain her trust, but he had no clue how. It was threading a needle while blindfolded.
“Does your phone get coverage here?” he asked.
Cait’s eyebrow twitched up, taking on an ironic tilt. “I wouldn’t know,” she said. “You took my phone.”
He pulled it out of his bag and handed it back to her. “It doesn’t look like it has coverage,” he told her. “But I have a satellite phone with me.” He pulled it out. “The nearest town is Shaw’s Crossing. You know it?”
“Yes, I went through it on my way here.”
He held out his phone to her. “Call information, and have the operator put you in touch with the Shaw’s Crossing Police Department. Tell them you urgently need to speak to the chief of police about Mace Trask.”
“What’s that?”
“Who, not what,” he said. “Mace Trask is me. The police chief’s name is Wade Bristol. He’s a good guy. In over his head, but he’s doing his best. His secretary’s name is Holly. Mention my name, and she’ll put you through, no matter what he’s doing.”
Cait took the phone, and gazed at it, looking troubled. Wary of a trap.
“The chief will vouch for me,” Mace said. “He can confirm that I’m genuinely the owner of GodsAcre, along with my two brothers. He’ll probably also tell you that I’m a huge pain in his ass, but he can confirm that I am not mentally unstable, and that I never hurt anyone. Not too much, anyhow. Certainly not a woman. And never anyone who wasn’t actively trying to hurt me first.” He fell silent, and then, as an afterthought, gingerly touched the blood that was crusted around his nose, the scratches on his face.
Her full, sexy lips curved. “Well,” she murmured. “Um. About that.”
He waved it away. “No hard feelings. Just a misunderstanding.”
“Just be aware. That’s what happens when you scare me.”
“Duly noted. I’ll just wear a cowbell around my neck from now on.”
She made no move to place the call. “What’s GodsAcre?”
“The ruins, above the falls,” he said. “The place was called GodsAcre, before. I grew up there. You don’t know it?”
“Never heard of it in my life,” she said.
Then what in holy fuck were you doing up there?He clamped down on the question. Later for that. “Make the call,” he urged. “We can’t fuck around. They’ll be on us soon. Chief Bristol can confirm the danger. He doesn’t let anyone but me come up here these days. You saw the roadblocks at the entrance to Kettle River Canyon Road?”
“I saw them.” She handed his phone back. “I’m not quite ready to talk to a police chief in Shaw’s Crossing yet. I don’t want to be scolded. Being attacked, smothered, crushed and manhandled by you was quite enough for one day.”
“First impressions are important,” he remarked.
Her mouth twisted. “So you’re a smart ass, too?”
“Absolutely. But all joking aside, I have an off-road vehicle about two miles downriver. I’ll take you someplace safe now, and we can talk.”
“Show me you’re for real. Give me my stuff back, and I’ll go with you.”
Mace hesitated for a moment. Fuck it. He dug into his bag. Pulled out the wallet, the tracker, the notes, the journal. But he hung on to them as she took them.
“You’ll tell me everything?” he reiterated. “Promise?”
“Hand it over.” Her low voice had the calm ring of authority, even when she was at an absolute disadvantage.
Nice. But he did not have time for dick-tingling fantasy digressions.
There was another consideration, too, that flicked through his mind as he admired that woman’s face, body, and general vibe.
Kimball knew him, from way back. The man had fiendishly acute psychological intuitions. He loved to fuck with people’s heads. Kimball was smart enough to know that if he wanted to set a honeypot trap to tempt Mace Trask, personally—that a woman like Caitlin LaMott would be irresistible bait.
“Follow me.” He turned to go, praying that she would.
Gravel crunched behind him. He was relieved, energized. Freshly stimulated.
It was going to be tricky to keep his guard up under those conditions.