Havoc by Shannon McKenna
5
Mace Trask had a big, impressive, mud-splattered olive green Jeep Wrangler Rubicon hidden in an open space in one of the logjams. It felt wonderful to sit down in the passenger seat, after all the scrambling up and down hills, and crawling through mud.
She was kicking herself for not making that phone call, just to set the jitters to rest. He could have been bluffing. She should have called him on it.
She’d been waiting for the weather to permit this expedition ever since she found the coordinates in Dad’s journal. When she first found the GPS coordinates, the mountains had been deeply snowed in, so she’d waited for the snow to retreat while putting in for her long leave of absence from Sebold Labs.
The Wrangler bounced over the rough terrain, bumping her tailbone and making her teeth clack in her mouth. She sneaked peeks at the guy who called himself Mace Trask, as he maneuvered the vehicle confidently over terrain she would have never dreamed a motor vehicle could handle.
Finally, he jerked the vehicle to the right, jounced up off the river rocks, and onto a rough gravel road.
“Where are we?” she asked. “What road is this?”
“This is the old Kettle River Canyon Road, from way back,” he told her. “They carved a new one farther up the hill back in the seventies. This one was too close to the river bed, and it kept on washing out in the spring, like it did right…here.” He stopped talking to steer the vehicle through a deep muddy trough, and then somehow got the Wrangler to crawl back up the other side.
“Does it go all the way back to town?” she asked.
“No, it dead-ends at the trailer park. That’s where we’ll get back onto the new Kettle River Canyon Road.”
The neglected old road was nearly as rough as the off-roading had been, with all its ruts and holes. She wouldn’t have been able talk to him, even if she hadn’t been vibrating at this panicked high frequency. She was insane, for going with him. Getting into this car, voluntarily. It went against all rules, all instincts.
On the one hand, he’d given her back all of her stuff, and that was a gesture of good faith. Though to be brutally honest, it cost him nothing. He could just as easily take it all back if he felt like it.
But he wasn’t behaving in a threatening way. He’d even apologized, sort of. Offered her his phone. Offered character references, bona fides. Assured her she was safe.
She wanted so badly to believe him, but she was so tense, she could hardly breathe.
After the trailer park, as he’d said, the old road merged into the newer one. It was also rough, but it felt as smooth as silk compared to before. “You went the wrong way at the trailer park,” she said. “My car is parked farther up Kettle River Canyon Road.”
“You went around the roadblocks?” He clicked his tongue. “Bad girl. Chief Bristol’s going to give you some shit about that when he meets you.”
“I went past it, yes, but not by much. I parked on an old logging road. Could you turn around?”
“We’re not going to your car,” he told her.
Cait’s entire body went rigid. “Excuse me? Why on earth not?”
“Don’t get uptight,” he soothed. “I’ll get you back to your car eventually. But first, we have to have that conversation you promised when I gave your you your stuff back.”
“I’ll keep my damn promise.” Her voice was getting tight. “But I’d like to go back to my hotel first. I want a hot shower, a change of clothes, some fresh dry shoes. I’d like to meet you in a public venue, in full sight of other people.”
“Caitlin,” he said evenly. “This isn’t a conversation for a public venue.”
“Don’t you know how to talk quietly? And I go by Cait, by the way.”
“Okay, Cait. I’m not a psycho killer.” He pulled out his phone and slapped it down on the console. “Call the cops, for fuck’s sake. Let the operator connect you. You’d probably get service with your own phone by now, if that makes you feel any better.”
“Let’s meet for dinner in town for our talk,” she countered. “There’s a restaurant on Main Street. It’s really good. I ate there last night.”
“Yeah, Demi’s Corner Café.”
“You know it?”
“My sister-in-law owns and runs it,” he told her. “Both of my brothers eat there every day. So do I, when I’m down in town. We’re all too lazy to cook these days, since Demi’s so goddamn good at it. If we went there, you’d meet the whole gang.”
“Ah. I see,” she murmured.
“But we need to talk, before I bring you into the bosom of my family.”
Those words made her realize something that startled her. “Wait. You mean, you’re protecting them from me? You think that I could be a danger to them?”
“It’s been a really weird time for us,” he said. “Besides, my balls are still sore, and I look like I tangled with a panther. You’re clearly a potential threat.”
“Oh, please,” she muttered, abashed.
They came onto a fork in the road, and instead of heading back toward Shaw’s Crossing, he turned up a smaller road which wound up the hill.
“Where the hell are you taking me?” She pulled out her phone, and squawked as he twitched it back out of her hands. He slammed on the brakes.
They wallowed in the gravel, and came to a shuddering stop.
“You’re not winning this one, Cait.” His face was hard and cold, his bright eyes flinty. “We’re having our talk now. It won’t take long. You’ll be absolutely safe. After we have it, I’ll take you to your car, escort you safely to your hotel, and leave you in peace. This is non-negotiable. Are we clear?”
She stared at him, swallowing nervously. “Yes.”
“Good.”
They drove in silence for the next few miles, the road crawling along the hillside, until they got up to a plateau with big, grassy clearings full of early wildflowers, and groves of old-growth trees.
“So…who are you, anyway?” she asked. “What do you do?”
“My name is Mace Trask. My latest professional venture was in running a small mercenary company, Trask Executive Solutions. My brothers and I grew up here. We were raised up at GodsAcre, the place I found you.”
“And you all still live here?”
“By no means. We just found ourselves back here in the last few months, since our adopted dad died. We’ve all been living elsewhere for the past many years. My brother Eric runs a big tech company, Erebus, Inc. You might have heard of it.”
Her eyes went wide. “Holy shit. He’s that Eric Trask?”
“Yep, the very one. And my oldest brother, Anton, is a DJ who also operates a chain of nightclubs. Hellbound.”
“Ah. I’ve heard of that guy, too. And his infamous nightclubs.”
“Of course you have.” His tone was ironic. “They’re both famous. Not me, though. I like to fly under the radar.”
They were driving alongside an ancient wooden fence, and an old farmhouse came into view ahead of them.
“Is this where you live?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I don’t really live anywhere. I just crash here and there, when I’m not on the move. I spent a few years living here when I was a teenager, from age fourteen to eighteen. This place belonged to my adopted father, Otis Trask. He left it to us, and we use it from time to time.” He pulled into the driveway, and jerked the Wrangler to a sharp stop, killing the engine. “We were going to sell it after he died last fall, but things got crazy, and it ended up being…well, not a great time to sell, let’s just say.”
Cait got out, and looked around, breathing in the scented air. The breeze lifted her hair. Wow. If she owned a place like this, she wouldn’t sell it for all the world.
It was so peaceful. Remote and timeless. The wind swept through the trees that bounded the field, rippling the grass and the flowers. Tufts of ethereal, pale yellow glacier lilies swayed beneath a big pine tree. The wind off the mountain was cold, but short blades of vividly green new grass peeked through the gray dead foliage.
She followed him down the flagstone path and into the old house, shivering. Everything in the place was simple, old-fashioned, antique. Trask went to the potbellied woodstove and knelt down, setting the fire already laid inside ablaze. “Sorry it’s so cold,” he said. “But the stove should warm it up pretty soon.”
“Or we could just go straight to town to someplace that’s already warm,” she said. “Maybe a place that’s not your sister-in-law’s restaurant.”
“Not yet,” he said stubbornly. “Sit down and warm up.” He gestured to a wingback chair that sat near the woodstove. “I’ll go turn on the heaters, too.”
It hit her as she walked in. A full-on adrenaline crash. She suddenly felt woozy, nauseous. She started to shake, and sank down heavily into the chair. Yikes.
Trask turned away from the stove, frowning at her. “You good?” he asked. “Your lips are kind of blue.”
“Just t-t-t-tired.” Her teeth were chattering. Of all ignominious things.
He pulled open a drawer in the credenza and pulled out a fuzzy wool blanket, draping it around her shoulders. “Get warmed up. I’ll make you some tea real quick.”
He was back in a couple of minutes with a mug of strong, steaming tea, heavily sweetened with what tasted like sweetened condensed milk.
She felt better almost immediately as she sipped it.
“I have food here,” Trask offered. “Demi’s cooking, from her catering business. I keep a freezer full of those packages. I’m defrosting some dinner in the microwave right now. In the meantime, have some cookies.” He held up a package of shortbreads.
“No, I really don’t—”
“Please. Trust me on this. Sugar will help.”
The intensity of his eyes was like a physical touch. The man was hard to argue with. But really, what was there to argue about?
Trask placed another chunk of wood on the fire, and pulled a chair over to face her. He sat down, their knees almost touching. “Do you feel strong enough to talk?”
Pride insisted that she nod. “I’m plenty strong.”
His lips twitched. “Good,” he said. “Let’s hear your story, then. From the start. No detail is too small for my interest.”
“You said you’d give me info, too,” she reminded him.
“Yes, I did, but you go first. You were trespassing, so it’s only fair.”
“Maybe, but you attacked me, and scared the living bejesus out of me.”
“Even so. Go first anyway.” His face was implacable.
“Oh, fine. Whatever.” She took a swallow of her tea, wishing that her hands would stop shaking. “So, about me. I’m from the Bay Area, like you saw from my license. I work at Sebold Labs. And I’m a scientist.”
“What kind of science?”
“Virologist,” she said.
“Okay, that tracks. That much I got online.”
“You looked me up?” she asked, a little outraged.
“I had time to kill while you were crawling down that hill.”
“I practically rolled down that hill head over heels,” she said. “I couldn’t have slowed down if I wanted to!”
He shrugged. “I had time to check you out. You’ll do the same to me, the first chance you get, so don’t get all huffy about it.”
“What else do you know about me?”
“Superficial stuff,” he said. “You’re good friends with Rachel and Wanda. You were a bridesmaid a few months ago. You sold a car last autumn. You like mojitos.”
She tugged the blanket close around herself, glaring at him. She felt so strangely affronted, as if they were playing some kind of silly game, and he’d cheated.
“Don’t take it personally,” he urged. “The sooner you get through this, the sooner you’re in your hotel room, resting. Did Sebold Labs send you here?”
“No, she said. “Sebold has no connection to this at all. I took a leave of absence from my job to do some research on my own.”
“Yes?” he prompted, after she was quiet for too long. “Research on what?”
She leaned over to set her tea mug on the floor. “It’s about my dad,” she admitted.
“Your dad?” Mace looked puzzled. “How so? Who is he? What are you looking for?”
“His name was Tom LaMott. Fourteen years ago, he disappeared,” she said. “I’m trying to find out what happened to him, and my research led me right into that cave.”