EDGE (34 page)

“So, was your fishing trip successful?” Linnet asked.

“Apparently,” Mel said, indicating the halibut cooking on the stove.

“That wasn’t what I meant and you know it.” Linnet reached for a purple head of cabbage and sliced thin shreds with a wicked butcher knife. “I want details. Did it work? Did you scare him off?”

Hardly
. If anything, the man was more in love with Alaska than before. “Not yet.” Talk about a perfect plan backfiring.

“I’m sure you’ll think of something else.” Linnet added the cabbage to the other fresh vegetables in the salad bowl. “How’s that halibut coming, Nicole?”

“Almost there,” she replied. “Mel? About Cache, I know he’s the enemy and everything, but have you thought of talking to him? Maybe appeal to his better side into leaving you alone?”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Linnet said. “He’s attracted to you. Use it to get to him. Besides, you might get some pleasurable satisfaction out of it yourself.” She winked.

“Men like him don’t have a better side. All they think about is what they want and how to get it.” What was up with Linnet? Mel popped another cinnamon bear.

“Oh, I don’t know. He seems more multifaceted than most men.” Linnet poured one of Nicole’s homemade vinaigrettes over the salad and then tossed it.

“What is this? Linnet, you wanted me to show him the worst side of Alaska in the hopes he’d leave.” Mel turned to Nicole. “You were ready to poison his food. What’s up?” She anchored her hands on her hips as she took in their expressions. “Let me guess, the man got to you. What’d he do? Sweet talk you into believing he wasn’t here to expose me? That he was only after the ultimate Alaskan vacation? That he only wanted time to heal before he left? Don’t be so naïve.”

“Mel, I’ll do what you want me to do,” Nicole said. “After all, it’s the least I can do considering my part in your—”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Mel dropped the remainder of cinnamon bears in the garbage and left the room, her appetite suddenly gone.

This was the third time Nicole had brought up the kidnapping. It was in the past. Mel had dealt with it. If Nicole had guilty feelings she hadn’t dealt with yet, that was her problem. Mel wasn’t going to do that thing where they held hands, cried, and forgave.

She headed to her room, hoping to find some escape, but as she turned the corner, she came face to face with the man who was ruining her peace of mind and, unfortunately, occupying most of it.

He’d just come from the shower, his chest bare with a towel looped around his neck, jeans slung low on his hips, feet bare. Towel-dried hair stood every which way. He should look ridiculous instead of endearing. She resisted the urge to comb his hair with her fingers.

What was she thinking? He was the enemy.

Stubble shadowed his jaw and upper lip, shading his features, emphasizing the sharp edges of his cheekbones, outlining his firm lips, and accentuating his stormy eyes.

Memories of them together, clinging, naked, sweaty, filled her mind. Breathing became difficult.

“Mel,” Cache said her name on a moan as he reached for her. His hand gently cupped her cheek and she couldn’t keep her eyes from closing with the simple pleasure of his touch. Heat hit her in waves as his chest brushing against hers. His mouth lowered.

God help her, she wanted to kiss him.

This was too hard. Why couldn’t she just hate him? Turn off these unwanted feelings and hate him?

His lips were just a breath away when she spoke. “Do you mind? You’re in my way.”

Cache snapped back as though she’d slapped him. She angled around him. “Dinner will be ready shortly. You might want to get dressed.” She opened her bedroom door, leaving him standing alone in the hallway. She wouldn’t let the hurt look on his face affect her. After all, he was a master at using people. Everything he did had an agenda and therefore, whatever emotions he expressed had to be questioned. Didn’t they?

She shut the door in his face.

“You can’t ignore me forever, Mel,” Cache said, his voice coming clearly through the closed door. “You’ll have to talk to me sooner or later.”

Don’t bet the bank, buddy
. If she couldn’t scare him off this place, she could certainly out-wait his time here. She’d put up with a lot throughout her lifetime. She could do this. She had to.

Mel heard Cache’s footfalls retreat into his bedroom and the quiet click of his door shutting. The loneliness that settled in the silence made her want to cry.

She turned and gasped. Her hand flew up to cover her mouth in case the scream strangling her throat escaped.

The blankets had been stripped off her bed. Against the stark whiteness of the sheets was a nine-point star, painted in blood.

Mel slapped a smile on her face and sat through the extensive dinner. Chatter flared around the table like a disease and she couldn’t excuse herself. She needed action, not this endless talking that grated on her nerves. Cache had tried to engage her in conversation. After the first few cutting remarks had garnered puzzled looks from the Whitneys, she’d toned it down and acted somewhat civil, ignoring him more than anything.

She’d taken care of the sheets, tossing them in a garbage bag to be burned later. Her bed was now made up with no sign of the hideous warning, but she still couldn’t get the image of the nine-point star out of her mind.

Jed had been in her bedroom. Must have killed and drained the blood of an animal in order to paint her sheets.

Nobody had known he was there.

They seriously needed to rethink the security on The Edge.

What security?

Finally with dinner over, Mel did her part and helped clear and clean up the dishes, and then searched out Sergei in the bunkhouse.

“Hey,” she greeted, shutting the door behind her. “I need to head up to Sadie Falls. Will you go with me?”

“This have something to do vith that man from your past?”

“Yes.” She swallowed over the lump in her throat. “How much do you know?”

“All.”

She nodded. “Okay, well…” What did she add to that?

“Everyone has past, Mel.” Shadows flickered in his eyes and he turned away. Mel began to wonder what in Sergei’s past still haunted him.

“So, you’ll come with me?” she asked.

“
Dah
.”

“Good. I’ll meet you at the trailhead in twenty minutes. Be loaded for bear.”

Mel hiked past the garden on her way to the trailhead and came to a full stop. The broccoli she’d torn from the roots had been replanted in their rows, looking wilted and half dead.

Jed must have seen her rip it out of the ground and then tried to save it.

Sick
. It was all so sick.

She dropped her backpack, and leaned the .30-06 next to it. She yanked the shovel that was anchored in the dirt, and savagely chopped each head of broccoli into little pieces. When she was done, she scooped up the bigger bits and threw them deep into the brush.

“There, replant that, you asshole.” She tossed the shovel aside, coming up sharp when she found Sergei and Cache watching her from the edge of the garden.

“What’s
he
doing here?”

“Caught me loading veapons.” Sergei shrugged. “Vouldn’t stay behind.”

She opened her mouth to object.

“Don’t even try it,” Cache said.

She glanced at his leg. “How are you going to keep up?”

“I did last time.” He hardened his jaw.

“This isn’t going to be like last time.”

“You aren’t going without me.”

She regarded his stony expression, the hiking clothes, and the shotgun slung over his shoulder. “Suit yourself.”

He relaxed somewhat but she ignored him and led the way.

“Where’s Rinka?” Sergei asked. “She vould be handy on hike.”

A sharp pang pricked her heart. “I haven’t seen her since I left.” There had been a lot of blood used to paint her sheets.

“I saw her yesterday, right before we went fishing,” Cache said. “This close to term, she’s probably nesting.”

Mel was afraid to hope.

The evening was hushed, the sun sat high on the horizon. The air was cool, but not cool enough to keep the mosquitoes from biting. Mel slapped one after another of the pesky buggers. She set a fast pace, and to her surprise Cache kept up.

It was late, heading on ten o’clock when they entered the clearing of the camp. The temperature had dropped even though the sun refused to. Mel had the shotgun cocked and ready, while Sergei and Cache had readied their weapons when they’d entered the darkened forest. Just like before, the camp was empty, though this time the tarp and bedroll were gone. There was no sign that anyone had ever been here except for the stone table.

But it wasn’t a stone table. It was the beginnings of an altar. She should have recognized it before. Now she treaded toward it, as though pulled by an invisible cord. The top, large flat stones were dark with blood. Blood that he’d gathered to use as paint? She glanced around, studying anything that might be a clue.

“She isn’t here,” Cache said.

“She?” Sergei asked, his brows knitted.

“Rinka. Mel thinks Jed got to her.” He turned to Mel. “Don’t you?”

“Shut up.” She didn’t want her nightmarish thoughts spoken out loud, hated that he could read her so easily.

“Mel—”

“Enough. Just shut up,” her voice cracked. Anger at not finding Jed, knowing he was out there, still haunting her, left her feeling powerless. She leaned the .30-06 against a tree, and struggled out of the backpack she’d carefully packed. Making sure she had enough rope and duct tape to tie Jed up with when they’d found him.

She approached the half-built altar. It must have taken him days to gather this many river stones and stack them on top of one another. She picked up one and heaved it as far as she could into the surrounding trees. Wonder where he was building the next one? She didn’t doubt for a minute that he’d found another spot.

Less than two days was all he had. Would he have enough time? Would she flush him out before he got to her? She grabbed another rock and heaved it into the forest, grunting with the effort.

Cache and Sergei were suddenly there, helping her destroy the altar. Their quiet actions had her blinking back tears.