Sabotaged (8 page)

F
AIRBANKS
, A
LASKA
M
ARCH
11, 10:15
P
.
M
.

Reef drove their rental car around the back of the hotel, where they'd requested adjoining rooms. Neither of them had sensed anyone following them from Nikolai. Kirra prayed the men who had tracked them on snowmobiles, or whoever might be keeping tabs on them, had bought their story of heading back to Yancey to heal, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Better to stay in secluded places and keep a low profile.

Kirra took in the hotel room as Reef ushered her inside. It ranged about midway between scary and nice. It was older, but clean. Run by an elderly man and his wife. The wife's touches could be seen in the lace doilies topping the nightstand and matching pine dresser.

Reef remained in her room while she got settled, taking a seat at the small table by the curtained window. “You hardly touched your dinner,” he said.

“I wasn't that hungry.”

He leaned forward. “I know you're worried about Meg, but we'll find her.”

“How can you sound so certain?”

“She's got a lot of good people looking for her, and we have time. The race doesn't end for another week, and that's just the leaders.”

“A week isn't long.” She riffled through her duffel for the third time since they'd checked in, not even knowing what she was looking for—simply trying to distract herself from the encroaching panic.

Reef stood and moved to her side. He clasped his hands around hers. “I have faith God will get us through this—all of us.”

She choked back tears, praying his faith would be enough for them both, because hers seemed to be sorely lacking at the moment. The events of the past two days had weakened her, and being back in Fairbanks, all the spiritual questions that had plagued her following the rape were whispering in her ear.
Where was God? Why did He allow
it to happen? When would He make her whole again
? Would she ever be whole again?

She'd sought out a Christian counselor when the pain had nearly consumed her, and the woman had been of help. The questions had quieted, and Kirra had begun to rebuild her relationship with the Lord, but now, being here, so close to it all . . . It was as if she'd been slammed back two years, and the emotions were raw and pricking at the surface.

“Come here.” Reef pulled her into his embrace. He'd been doing a lot of that lately. Was he making a play, or did he just realize she was aching for comfort, for security? To her surprise, she believed the latter.

“Thanks,” she said, pulling away after a moment. “I appreciate you being here, but we should both get some sleep.”

“Right.” Reef slid his hands in his jean pockets. “Important day tomorrow.”

She cringed. He had no idea.

He arrived in Yancey shortly before dawn. No doubt a good twelve hours behind Reef and Kirra. But they'd had quick access to a plane. He'd had to call and get one sent in. It was surprising he was only twelve hours behind, given the circumstances.

Yancey was a small town, which made his job easier. He'd quickly locate the pair and discern if they really were letting the incident go. Glancing through the Internet White Pages, he searched for Kirra Jacobs' vet business and sled dog shelter—Nanook Haven.

He put out his cigarette, crunching it into the snow with the tip of his boot as the rental car agency opened for the day. Thankfully he'd only had to wait an hour.

Now for a drive out to Nanook Haven.

U
NIVERSITY
OF
A
LASKA
, F
AIRBANKS
M
ARCH
12, 8:10
A
.
M
.

Kirra hadn't seemed quite right to Reef since Darcy first suggested they interview Meg's roommate in person. Did the two not get along? Was there something about her time at University of Alaska, Fairbanks, that left a sour taste in her mouth?

She moved quickly across campus, not looking up, not making eye contact with anyone. Her frame was stiff, her jaw tight. What had happened here?

He wanted to ask if she was okay, but he knew she would again insist she was fine. She'd skirted the subject of her discomfort during their flight, turning the conversation instead to his brief relationship with her cousin Meg.

His time with Meg had resulted in a handful of dates—barely enough to be labeled a relationship, but Kirra had used that term multiple times. The fact that he'd dated Meg bothered her. He could read it in the tightness of her jaw and brow. Perhaps she wasn't thrilled that her cousin had dallied with the wild McKenna brother. Or, more likely, she knew he wasn't good enough for Meg—which definitely meant he wasn't good enough for her.

That was true, but he'd been praying, hoping, maybe she'd begin to see him differently, and there were moments when he thought she did—the passionate, yet tender, kiss being one of them; their frank conversation on the plane another.

She still hadn't mentioned the kiss, and he wondered if she even remembered it. She'd been half asleep. Either way, the memory of it
was
burned fast and foremost in his mind.

He'd never experienced the sensations he had in that kiss. It left him aching for more. For more of her—not physically but emotionally. He wanted to get to know her better, to figure out what made her tick, to be able to ease the furrowed lines from her brow, to be of comfort and support to her.

She made him want to be a better man. That's why he was here. He would help her find Meg. He'd prove he could see something through, that he could be a reliable friend, that he cared about them both—Meg as a friend, and Kirra as infinitely more, even if she never reciprocated the feelings. He'd screwed up so much in life, had not been there for those
he loved, had not followed through. He wasn't screwing up this time, wasn't walking away.

They entered the dorm building, Kirra moving quickly up the concrete stairs to the third floor.

“Have you met her before? Meg's roommate?”

“Yeah. When they came to visit Yancey over Thanksgiving break.”

“That should help.” It wouldn't be two total strangers showing up at her door.

“Meg is in room 304.” Kirra followed the door numbers. “Here.”

“Let's hope Ashley's in.” Otherwise they'd have to try and track her down on campus.

Kirra knocked on the door.

A moment later, to Reef's great relief, it opened.

A petite woman with long, obviously dyed hair greeted them. “Yeah?” She looked up and smiled as her gaze locked on Kirra. “Kirra? What are you doing here?”

“We're looking for Meg.”

“She's not here.”

“We know.”

Ashley frowned. “What's going on?”

“You may want to take a seat,” Reef suggested as she let them in.

The room was typical of a college dorm. Two twin beds were lofted, one with a desk and workstation underneath, the other with a dresser and mounds of clothes—
Meg's
. So opposite Kirra's organized nature.

“Okay, you're kind of freaking me out,” Ashley said, moving across the blue carpet to her chair. “What's going on, Kirra?”

Kirra rubbed her arms. “I don't know how best to say this, so I'll just come out with it.” She paused until Ashley sat, then exhaled. “Meg's missing.”

Ashley's eyes narrowed. “What do you mean
missing
?”

“It's what we've been told,” Kirra said, leaning against the wooden bed frame.

“Told?” Ashley's brow creased. “By who?”

“Her dad.”

“Oh.” Ashley exhaled, the tightness in her face easing.

Kirra's brows arched. “What?”

Ashley swallowed, slipping a strand of her crimson-dyed hair behind her ear. “I'm sure this is all just a bit of confusion.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you know Meg always goes to see her dad off in the Iditarod . . .”

“Right,” Kirra said.

“Well, when Meg was getting ready to leave and I said, ‘Say hey to your dad for me,' she gave me this strange look.”

Kirra's delicately arched brows furrowed. “Strange,
how
?”

“Like that wasn't where she was really going.”

“You think she lied to you about going to the Iditarod?”

“I don't know.” Ashley shifted, pulling her knees to her chest, the swivel chair shifting with her. “Meg's been kind of different lately.”

“Different?” Kirra asked. “How?”

“She's been hanging around with this new crowd. Kind of getting edgy.”

Getting
edgy? What was Meg into?

“What kind of crowd?” Kirra asked.

“And edgy how?” Reef added. In his experience, Meg
already straddled the line between acceptable and wild behavior. Had she moved completely over?

Ashley rested her chin on her knees. “This environmental group on campus. ROW. Rescue Our World. They're all jazzed up about saving the world—well, the environment. They're always edgy. I think it's a persona they purposely work to give off, but if you ask me, I'd say they're just twitchy because they ingest too much caffeine. They are always going on and on about one cause after another. Always complaining about this thing or that. I mean, I'm sorry, but a little hairspray isn't going to bring the world to the brink of destruction. A girl's got to have good hair. Am I right?”

Kirra smiled and nodded, but Reef could tell she was itching to get down to business.

“This group,” Kirra said. “Do you know any of the members?”

“Meg tried bringing a few of them to our parties, but they were always too busy sitting up on their high horses, preaching to everyone else, to ever enjoy themselves. Kind of a downer, you know? After a while she stopped bringing them.”

“You think she stopped hanging out with them?” Kirra asked.

“Nope.” Ashley stood, retrieved her messenger bag off the fraying blue carpet, and stepped to her desk. “I think she just decided to keep her friend groups separate.”

“Why?”

“I don't think she liked getting flack from us about hanging out too much with those eco-nuts, and I'm just as certain they gave her equal flack for hanging out with us.”

“Why?” Kirra frowned.

“Because we weren't into ‘
the cause.'”
She shoved a couple
books in her bag. “It made things awkward with Meg. It was like this point of tension neither of us talked about, but it was always there.”

“Could we get some names from you?” Reef asked.

“Of the eco-nuts?” Ashley shrugged. “Sure.” She grabbed a notebook and fluffy pen and started scribbling. “I only know a couple of names, but you could always talk to Professor Baxter.”

“Professor Baxter?”

“He's head of the Environmental Science department, and the eco-crowd reveres him like a god. I'm sure he could give you some names, probably even tell you about Meg's interest in the cause.”

“Was she a student of his?”

“She's taking three of his classes this semester.”

“Three? Wow. She must really like him.”

“Likes what he has to say.” She shoved the last of her books into her bag and swung the flap over, hiking the strap across her shoulder. “He's the one that fires the rest of them up.”

“Any idea where we can find him now?”

“Sure. His lecture starts in fifteen minutes.”

“Okay, is there anyone else you think we should talk to? Any other professors, a boyfriend, ex-boyfriend . . . ?”

“Her most recent boyfriend was Garret Bale—spends most of his time in the weight room. He's a senior, but Meg dumped him last week. As for professors, she only has Baxter and William Daniels.”

Kirra stiffened, her skin paling.

He grazed her arm. “You okay?”