Incriminating Evidence Page 4

  “Well then, maybe to thank you for saving my life, you’ll let me take you out to dinner.”

  She knew he expected a teasing rejoinder. Something about getting off cheap if all she got was a lousy meal, but her throat had gone dry, and she couldn’t muster the words.

  Dinner with Alec Ravissant? Not just no, but hell no. And if he knew who she was, he’d feel the exact same way.

  Finally, she found enough voice to say, “Go to sleep, Alec.”

  He chuckled, tightened his arm around her, and did exactly that.

  Of course, this morning of all mornings, he’d wake with a morning missile. But then, he had a soft, warm woman’s round ass pressed up against said missile, and he was only human.

  God how he wanted to rock his hips and rub his erection against that ass. She smelled good too—warm, earthy, with a hint of yesterday’s shampoo. Her hair was carrot orange laced with blonde streaks. It was bound in a loose braid, and just enough strands had escaped to make him think she had wild curls, the corkscrew kind that would wrap around his fingers as he cradled her head and kissed her.

  Whoa. Time to put on the mental brakes. That fantasy would be all too easy to make happen. But he couldn’t go there. Not until he was certain she really was an innocent geologist who was in the right place at the right time to save his life.

  But if she were an innocent geologist… Well, that changed things. His campaign manager had put the kibosh on dating during the campaign, but surely dinner with the woman who’d saved his life was the exception. Hell, the press would go nuts for it.

  Plus, he’d always had a thing for redheads. Sunlight filtered in through the intact dirty glass pane, revealing hundreds of adorable freckles he hadn’t seen in the shadows last night. Curls, freckles, and full lips that begged for attention. Plus she’d saved his life. No wonder he had a hard-on.

  However, if she woke up and felt his erection at her back, she’d likely freak out, and rightly so. Spooning for warmth wasn’t tacit agreement for anything more, and he hoped to hell she’d understand that he knew that. The erection wasn’t anything more than a basic biological reaction, no matter how much he wanted to grind into her.

  He ran through a litany of non-sexy thoughts, realizing, as he did so that he’d been so focused on the almost painful erection, it hadn’t registered that he felt much better this morning. His head still throbbed, but nothing like last night.

  Thinking about his injuries was the perfect cure for the inconvenient erection, and he turned his thoughts to yesterday and how he’d ended up here with Jenna.

  He remembered a bit more. He was driving, heading toward the compound, nearing the turn off to Tamarack, when a light flashed into his eyes. Repeatedly. Not a trick of the sun. Deliberate.

  Then a moose had darted into the road.

  Thank God his erection went down, because it had felt far too good against Isabel’s ass. It had taken some serious willpower to feign sleep and not let on she was aware of the hard man with the even harder prick pressed against her. She’d wanted so badly to grind her butt against him and see what happened.

  Guilt stabbed her.

  The man she’d wanted to grind against was Alec Ravissant. What the hell was wrong with her?

  She rolled forward, to put some space between her and the man who might have covered up her brother’s murder to save his business. To save his campaign.

  Behind her, the coldhearted politician cleared his throat. “Sorry. It happens. Bad morning for it.”

  She pressed her face into the floor and shook her head, unable to speak. She didn’t blame him. Couldn’t blame him. At least, not for that. That was just biology and proximity.

  “Jenna, I wouldn’t have touched you. I promise.”

  The hell of it was, she couldn’t tell him why she was upset. She finally had Alec Ravissant’s undivided attention and couldn’t tell him what she thought of him. She certainly couldn’t admit that being turned on by his erection had triggered a deep wave of self-loathing.

  She cleared her throat. “I know.” She rolled over to face him, the Mylar enclosure crackling with every movement.

  Sunlight sparked across the shiny tent and glinted in his dark hair. Those clear blue eyes were no longer bloodshot. He sported a day’s worth of dark stubble on his firm, square jaw and was more handsome than was reasonable, given the situation.

  She had never quite registered how handsome he was. Figures she’d notice upon waking up after spending the night in his arms, even if it had been purely for survival reasons. “I need to tell you something. I didn’t tell you last night because you tried to strangle me, and I was afraid of your reaction.”

  His jaw tightened. “I’m sorry about that. I don’t think I can ever apologize enough—”

  She pressed her fingers to his lips to stop him. “I—”

  The front door burst in at the same time the intact window shattered. All at once, men sporting forest camouflage and toting big guns poured into the cabin from both openings.

  They circled her and Alec, but every gun pointed at her.

  She met the gaze of the leader. Brad Fraser, one of the operatives she sometimes hung out with at the Roadhouse. She had no idea if he was friend or foe at this moment, but the gun pointed at her head argued for foe.

  His brow furrowed in confusion. “Isabel? What the fuck? You kidnapped Rav?”

  Chapter Four

  “Isabel?” Alec rolled backward, splitting the Mylar tent along the taped seam. “Isabel Dawson?” He swore. Holy shit. He’d been ready to believe she was the innocent geologist she’d claimed to be, but she was the nut job archaeologist with a vendetta against his company. A vendetta against him.

  He jumped to his feet, ignoring the ache the movement triggered behind his eyes, and faced Brad Fraser, who was one of his top operatives and the leader of Falcon team. “How did you find me?”

  “It took half the night, but we finally found your car in the woods. There were all-terrain vehicle tracks from there, which we followed until they disappeared. It took us a while to pick up the trail again, but finally, we found a pool of blood.” He looked down. “Shit, Rav. That scared us. We feared the worst. But there were tracks extending directly from the blood, and it was easy to follow.”

  Yeah. The travois trail may as well have been lit with neon. He’d figured that was to his advantage, and he was right. Stupid of Isabel not to realize that.

  But then, it was stupid of her to pull this crazy stunt at all.

  He reached out a hand to Fraser. “You have cuffs?”

  “Yes, sir.” He dropped a pair in Alec’s outstretched hand.

  Alec turned to Isabel, who’d stood while his back was turned, and grabbed her arm, pulling it behind her. “What the hell? I saved your life!”

  “Sure you did, Jenna.” He took her other wrist and locked the cuff around it.

  “I was about to tell you! I lied because you tried to strangle me. You made it clear you thought I’d abducted you. I was afraid of what you’d do—what you’d believe—if I told you my name.”

  “Good call. But then, I’ve always heard you’re crazy, not stupid.” He pushed her toward one of the operatives behind Fraser. The guy looked familiar, but at the moment, Alec couldn’t come up with a name. Hell, he considered himself lucky he could stand without the room spinning. “Take her to the compound and put her in one of our holding cells.”

  “No,” a uniformed officer said as he stepped into the cabin. “She’s coming with me.”

  Alec faced the officer and was relieved it only took a moment to pull a name out of his throbbing brain. “Lieutenant Westover?”

  The officer nodded.

  If Alec remembered correctly, the man had worked for Raptor but took the job at the new state trooper post around the time Alec acquired the company. Alec had all employees vetted when he took over—weeding out those who were loyal to Robert Beck, the former owner who was now sitting in a federal prison—but Westover had escaped that scrut
iny, leaving Alec to wonder if the man could be trusted.

  Not that he had a choice. Westover was the only law in Tamarack. As much as Alec wanted Isabel Dawson in his custody, he didn’t have any legal standing to detain her. “You’re arresting her?” he asked.

  “She abducted you?”

  Alec hesitated. A light in his eyes. A moose on the road. Then…nothing. “She tied me up and brought me here. I don’t know how, or why, or if she had help. I don’t remember.”

  “Tied you up?” she shrieked. “You ungrateful ass!” The high pitch disappeared as her voice shook with anger. “I tied you to the travois, so I could drag you to shelter. You’d have died exposed in the wind last night if I hadn’t done that.”

  Westover frowned. “I can detain her. But we’ll need more. A search warrant of her cabin could get us what we need to charge her.”

  Fraser leaned toward Alec. “Rav, we’ve got her on the restraining order.”

  “What do you mean? The restraining order is to keep her off Raptor land—not away from me.”

  “We’re on Raptor land right now,” Fraser said.

  Surprise rippled through him. He’d try to figure out what she was doing here later. For now, it gave him the leverage he needed. To Westover, Alec said, “Book her on the restraining order violation, then see if you can get a search warrant for her cabin.”

  Westover bristled, probably at Alec’s commanding tone, but he ignored the officer’s irritation. He was used to giving orders and didn’t see a reason to change now. Westover turned to Isabel and launched into her Miranda rights.

  Isabel glared at Alec, interrupting the speech to say to him, “You’re every bit as vile as I’ve always believed.” Her eyes teared. “I’m on Raptor land because this was the only shelter for miles. I should have left you to die.” She turned and headed for the open door. “C’mon, Westover. Take me to jail.”

  “The ATV tracks ended on the other side of the hill about two hundred yards from here. Given the terrain, it took some time to find the blood trail, but once we did, it led us here.” Fraser pointed to a glacier-smoothed bedrock outcrop heavily splattered with blood. A pool of it had gathered in a bowl-shaped depression in the stone.

  Not just any blood. Alec’s blood. From an injury he didn’t remember receiving, in an assault he didn’t remember happening. He must have lain on the rock for a long time for that much blood to have pooled in the depression. That argued for Isabel’s claim she’d found him.

  He touched the butterfly bandages on his temple. Had she built the travois while he lay bleeding and then bandaged him? Somehow, he couldn’t imagine that.

  She wouldn’t even let him drink stream water without warning him about iodine allergies and the risk of crypto in the water. She wouldn’t have left him to bleed, not even while she built the life-saving travois.

  He picked up shavings she’d created while stripping the poles. He was impressed that she not only had the tools, she had the knowledge necessary to figure out how to haul all two hundred and fifteen pounds of him a mile through the forest. It would have been far easier for her if she’d left him, hiked out, then called for help.

  But he could well have died before help arrived if she’d made that choice.

  He turned to Fraser. “How well do you know Isabel Dawson?”

  The operative shrugged. “Pretty well. We have a beer together every few weeks.”

  An unpleasant feeling dangerously close to jealousy settled in his gut. “You ever go out with her?”

  Fraser tipped his head back and laughed. “Hell, no. Isabel doesn’t date Raptor operatives. Period.”

  His relief was just as unwelcome as the jealousy. He felt strangely possessive of her after sharing her body heat, but she was so far from being his, the notion was laughable.

  “She mostly hangs out with Nicole at the Roadhouse. Nic probably knows her better than anyone in Tamarack.”

  “Seriously? The woman who’s been trying to shut down the compound hangs out with the compound director?”

  “Yeah. They liken it to the wolf and the sheepdog in the Warner Brothers cartoons. Battle each other all day, but at night, they clock out and have a beer.”

  How did he not know Nicole Markwell, the Alaska Compound’s executive director, was drinking buddies with the woman who’d caused so many problems for him these last months? He’d been busy with the campaign, but this indicated he’d been more out of touch than he’d thought. Proof that stepping down so he could focus on the election was the right choice for the company.

  He touched his throbbing temple. He’d planned to tell Nic about the CEO change first, then Falcon team, but it was Friday morning and he hadn’t even made it to the compound yet. His replacement, Keith Hatcher, would arrive tomorrow. Hell, given his disappearance, for all he knew, Keith was already en route to Tamarack.

  One thing at a time. Right now he had a decision to make about Isabel. To Fraser, he said, “What’s your take on her? Do you think she did this?”

  Fraser sat on a downed log, likely the same spot where Isabel had sat to strip the poles for the travois. “Honestly, Rav, I was shocked as hell to see her in the cabin with you. Isabel Dawson is a zealot for her cause, but I don’t think she’d ever deliberately hurt anyone.”

  “Then why did you mention the restraining order? I didn’t know we were on Raptor land.” A corner of his mouth kicked up. Of course she hadn’t told him that useful piece of information. If he’d known where he was, he might have tried to steal the compass and head to the training ground.

  Fraser shrugged. “No matter what I think, her being there was suspicious. She needs to be investigated, and it’ll be easier if she’s locked up. If we don’t find anything, you can withdraw the restraining order violation complaint. Her excuse that the cabin was the only shelter for miles is reasonable. It’s also true.” He shook his head. “Makes me wonder how she knew about it. None of us knew it was there.”

  The operative had a good point. The trail cut by the travois had been as straight a line as the terrain allowed. She’d known about the cabin.

  Fraser met Alec’s gaze. “The question is, what do you believe?”

  “I think she saved my life, and I thanked her by having Westover arrest her.”

  “Do you want to go to town and post her bail?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. I do.”

  “You should probably go to the compound first. Get a shower. We tried to keep a lid on it, but your disappearance hit the wire. National reporters could already be in town.”

  Alec frowned. Shit. This would be all over the news in Maryland. But Isabel was locked up because of him, because he’d lost his head when he discovered who she was and allowed himself to forget everything she’d done for him.

  She believed her brother’s accidental death had been deliberate and his people had covered up the crime. As far as he knew, she hated him with every fiber of her being. No wonder she’d been upset when she woke up with his erection pressed to her spine. His touch probably made her skin crawl, and yet, knowing exactly who he was, when she’d discovered he was cold in the middle of the night, she’d shared her blanket and body heat with him.

  Because that was who she was.

  She didn’t deserve to be in the cell in Tamarack, and if he made her sit there for another minute because he needed to shower to put on a polished face for the press, he didn’t deserve the senate seat he was running for. “No. I want to go to town now.”

  Isabel paced the tiny jail cell, anger coursing through her. This was the most ridiculous, outrageous outcome for being a Good Samaritan that she could imagine. Another show tune came to mind, this one “No Good Deed” from Wicked. Even worse than the anger was the fear that lurked behind it. What if…what if because she was in custody, the police didn’t bother to search for the real culprits? What if the prosecutor filed assault and abduction charges?

  What if she was convicted and went to prison for abducting Alec Ravissant?
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  Surely that couldn’t happen.

  She’d been arrested for violating the restraining order. There was no way around that. She was guilty. Hell, if Alec Ravissant knew exactly how many times she’d violated the order, she’d be facing serious jail time for that alone.

  At least because the order wasn’t stalking or domestic violence related, there was a simple bail schedule, with a hearing to follow. She’d probably need a lawyer for that—at least in this one instance, she’d had good reason to be on Raptor land—and shuddered to think of the cost. Even more daunting than the financial burden of bail and attorneys was that there was no court in Tamarack, just a small state trooper post with a two-cell jail. Westover had explained on their long hike out of the forest that some of the remote jails could accept bond payments, but Tamarack wasn’t one of them. Everything had to be processed at the Fairbanks courthouse, which was two hours away by car.

  Isabel didn’t know anyone who could drive to Fairbanks and post her bail with the promise that she’d pay them back the five hundred bucks as soon as she was sprung.

  Her closest friend in Tamarack was probably Nicole Markwell—Alec’s top employee. It was pretty damn unlikely Nicole would give up her career to help Isabel. Second to Nicole was Jenna, the waitress whose name she’d borrowed. Jenna might do it, but she probably didn’t have the money, plus she worked Fridays at the Roadhouse. It was too much to ask a woman who lived paycheck to paycheck, especially when they weren’t that close.

  But still, with no other choice, she’d called Jenna and left a message, asking if she knew anyone who could discreetly make the trip to Fairbanks, because if no one posted her bail before close of business, the court would close for the weekend and she’d be stuck in this jail until Monday.

  She shuddered.

  As far as jails went, she supposed it was fine—it was hardly ever used and therefore clean, and she wasn’t likely to have company—but she wasn’t a fan of the being-locked-up part. She was a hiker. She chafed at being indoors unless she was safe and warm and dry in a cozy cabin while weather raged outside. Being confined to a cold cell was just about her worst nightmare. A taste of what she would face if no evidence was found to exonerate her.