He had to force himself to keep his hold gentle when all he wanted to do was punch out the window. The guy had been on top of her with probable chloroform? God. If he’d managed to press it against her nose long enough, she would’ve been unconscious, easy to carry anywhere. Right now she’d be in the hands of a sociopath who tortured women and cut out their hearts. Lassiter or not, she’d be dead.
Fury edged through Angus, cutting with precision. He had to stop this guy, whoever it was. While the killer had left a note the day before, even that was slightly different from the others left years ago. If it was Lassiter, he was doing a great job messing with Angus’s mind. If it was somebody new, he had a good grasp on the members of Angus’s team and now had apparently started going for the real thing instead of look-alikes.
Nari wound down, and he asked a series of questions, keeping his voice calm.
She turned toward him as darkness began to blanket the rain. “Tell me about your day.”
His was easier to deal with, and he gave her the entire story.
She perked up as they drove down the deserted dirt road through the forest. “It can’t be a coincidence that we were both attacked the same day?”
“Hell if I know,” he admitted, drawing up next to the rugged cabin. “The MOs are different, but we’ll have to look at the situation from every angle.”
She studied the structure outside the car. “You said it was a nice cabin in the woods.”
“It is,” he said, somewhat defensively. “It’s not big, but it’s sturdy and warm.”
“Why do you have a cabin here if you were planning on going back to Kentucky?” She was quiet for a second. “Oh. You weren’t going. I get it now. Liar.” She opened her door and stepped into the rain, obviously too tired to worry about an umbrella. That was a good thing because he didn’t have one.
Ducking her head, she ran for the porch.
“Wait.” Angus hustled behind her and up the stairs to the door. “Let me make sure it’s clear. I’m sure it is, but I go first.” Just in case. He opened the door, and the hair instantly rose on the back of his neck as he sensed a presence that shouldn’t be there. “Get to the car, Nari. Now.”
“No need.” A table light turned on, illuminating Clarence Wolfe in the lone chair by the murder board, his massive body causing it to creak when he shifted his weight. He wore dark boots, dark clothing, and a knife strapped at his side. His face lacked any expression, although his amber eyes glowed with what looked like fury.
Angus frowned. “What the hell are you doing here?” He ushered Nari inside, while Roscoe ran full-on to Wolfe and hit the ex-soldier in the knees before jumping into his lap, his tail wagging wildly.
“Trying to be pissed, which is difficult with a mouth full of fur.” Wolfe patted Roscoe and tried to look over the mutt’s back. “Get down, boy.” His voice gentled and he lifted the dog to the floor. “Youbought my cabin?”
Nari turned around to face Angus. “This was Wolfe’s? The one he bought to stage an Op in?”
Angus nodded. “Yeah.” Might as well go with the truth.
Wolfe stood, his body vibrating. “What happened to you guys? You didn’t fight each other, did you?”
“Of course not.” Nari hurried forward and hugged their mammoth friend. “Long story.”
Angus shook his head. “Did you get my text about Dana?”
“Yes, and she’s locked down safely with West and Tanaka right now,” Wolfe said. “I got to thinking, and I figured you didn’t really hightail it out of here. So the question was, where would you go? I figured it was a long shot, but here you are in my cabin. So it looks like the team is back together. Right?” His tone strongly hinted that it must be right.
“Right,” Nari said firmly. “Without a doubt. We’re in this together.”
This was exactly what Angus had wanted to avoid. Damn it.
Chapter Fifteen
Nari finished with the very late dinner dishes as Angus made the bed with her fresh linens. Wolfe had stayed through the steak, salad, and dessert, finally wearing Angus down enough that the stubborn bastard agreed to let the team help with his case. It was obvious Angus had had no intention of really leaving town, and the thought that he’d lied to her hurt. She poured herself a glass of wine and turned, wincing as her hip complained with twinges of pain.
Angus straightened, the firelight flickering over his formidable features. His malachite-colored eyes were nearly iridescent in the soft light. He moved toward her and gently took the wine from her hand. “Hurting?”
“Yes.” She looked at the glass. “What are you doing?”
“You have a possible concussion, so no drinking.” His smile held more charm than she liked. “This cabin is in the middle of nowhere, and it’s rather rustic, but there’s one definite plus.” He set the glass on the counter and held out his hand.
She took it, electricity flashing along her tired arm. There was no reason they couldn’t try to be friends. “What is it?”
“This way.” He drew her toward the heavily barricaded door leading to another porch. He turned her. “See?”
