Cold Case Recruit. Jennifer Morey

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СКАЧАТЬ smell of jet fuel and crisp northern air soaked into Drury Decoteau as she stepped down from her De Havilland Beaver. She’d finished another day of flying tourists and business professionals to wherever they needed to go in the great and vast Alaska. Today that involved a trip to Prudhoe Bay. Flights to places like that invigorated her. Weather could turn in a heartbeat. She’d been stranded in remote locations before. Not today. Late summer, the weather had cooperated, although fall seemed to be approaching faster this year than last.

      She couldn’t wait to get home to her nine-year-old son, Junior. Sometimes they watched a movie or played a video game. Sometimes she read stories out loud. Sometimes they had a barbecue, even after winter sank its teeth into Anchorage. It was a Decoteau family tradition. Drury tried to keep up on all of those things. While not the same as with a whole family unit, the festivity did hold them together.

      Crossing the tarmac on her way to the terminal building, Drury looked around. Not many ground crew members worked right now. She didn’t see anyone suspicious. Last night the doorbell rang and while she never answered the door after dark, when whoever had left, she’d discovered a dead cat on her doorstep. Someone didn’t like her taking Noah’s homicide investigation into her own hands. All very horror-movie style for shock value, but the message had been clear.

      Had the killer done that? Who else would have? Proof that her husband’s killer was still so close unnerved her, but angered her more. Yeah, he should be scared. When her detective arrived, that scourge of society wouldn’t be free much longer. Getting past the worst of the grief led to anger. Someone had taken her husband from her, disrupted her life and her family’s life. It was so unfair. No one should get away with taking a good man’s life. And she’d make sure whoever had done so paid. She’d have her justice and then she’d move on, satisfied with closure. She wouldn’t have it as long as Noah’s killer ran free.

      She spotted a man in jeans and black leather jacket leaning against the front fender of a deep blue Yukon. More than his towering height and solid build made him stand out from the ground crew that had begun to work on her plane. He didn’t move, just watched her approach, mysterious and acutely observant. Dark hair showed no sign of receding and sunglasses hid his eyes. She slowed her steps on her way to the private airport’s main terminal building entrance. He wouldn’t be on the tarmac without authorization. He had to be here on business.

      He pushed off the fender.

      That must be him.

      Excitement and gladness surged forth. Kadin had told her he sent a detective. For the amount she paid, he’d better be worth it. Dark Alley Investigations had a flexible fee structure. Those who could pay did. Those who couldn’t didn’t. Kadin ran his business like a nonprofit organization, relying heavily on donations. Drury was no millionaire, but she had a sizable nest egg from her husband’s life insurance and an uncle who’d left her an inheritance. And, of course, her job as a bush pilot.

      The closer she came to him, the more she saw of his rugged good looks. Her husband had looked like that. Not as tall, though. This man was a giant. Noah’s ruggedness had attracted her. He hadn’t been the wild, backwoodsman like so many other men in Alaska, especially the more remote areas. He’d had clean-cut hair and masculine angles. Why the comparison struck her threw her off a bit. The man before her now had that same appeal, ruggedly handsome, but she shied away from admitting to herself that he attracted her.

      “Drury Decoteau?”

      Noah didn’t have that deep a voice, either. The rich, gravelly sound tickled her senses. That and his general aura of power, a dark energy cultivated from his experience as a homicide detective and the reason Kadin Tandy had handpicked him for her dead husband’s case.

      “Yes.”

      He removed his sunglasses and revealed hard, light gray eyes that warmed when he smiled.

      “Detective Cage?” She shook his hand, which ought to be rougher on a man like him. She also wondered if manly interest delayed his own introduction.

      His smile changed, richer and more of a sexy grin. “Brycen. Do I stand out that much?”

      She found it both refreshing and captivating that such a big man who dealt in gory murders for a living would be so approachable. Never mind the sexy part. “You do stand out, but I’ve been expecting you. Kadin told me you’d be coming. He also told me you were the best in the country for my husband’s case.”

      The grin smoothed, more professional now. “I worked in Alaska for many years.”

      “He didn’t say you were humble, but that’s a nice quality.” Or was it bittersweetness that made his grin fade? Maybe he didn’t like the reminder of his work in Alaska.

      A plane rolled up to the terminal, the engines wining, and another ground crew worked quickly to service the private flight.

      “Kadin’s been more communicative with you than me.” He nodded toward her plane. “He didn’t mention you were a pilot.”

      “I’m a pilot,” she said happily. Glancing back at her high-wing, blue-and-white De Havilland with conventional landing gear, she felt a familiar pride come over her. She’d loved flying ever since she was a kid. “I wasn’t one of those people who had a hard time deciding what to do for a living.”

      He admired her plane with those light gray eyes, glimmering and intelligent. They shifted to her, lasers penetrating. A pleasurable zing stunned her for a second.

      “Why Alaska?” he asked.

      “Um...” She cleared her throat in discomfort. What was the zing all about? “I’m... I’m from here.” She tugged the ends of her thick, wavy black hair, needing humor to get her past this awkward moment. Next, she pointed to her blue eyes. “Native American even with these. My mother is from New York. I inherited her attitude, too.”

      He laughed low and breathy. “Where did you learn to fly?”

      “I joined the air force and would have been a fighter pilot, but I was too petite for the g-force.” Yes, focus on that and not her reaction to him. Bush piloting had saved her after Noah’s murder. She’d gotten much more daring since then.

      She saw how his gaze lost professionalism as it roamed down her body and back up again. “You still are.”

      The zing heated into unmistakable attraction. Any single woman would notice this man’s good looks. Add strong, manly confidence and hotness oozing from every one of his pores.

      Flashes of Noah, glimpses of times passed—anchors of grief that had been her constant companion in the days and months following his murder—swallowed her. Noah, laughing with her the morning of his death over a cute kid in a commercial. They’d talked about having another child, maybe trying for a girl. Noah, holding her during a dance at a local festival, looking at her with all his love in his eyes. She had often marveled over her luck in finding him, wondering why her. And then he’d been ripped from her in the most horrific way. Something so beautiful and pure, slaughtered.

      It had been a year, long enough to be on her way healing, but not long enough. She needed more time. She couldn’t let go. Not yet.

      “So...” she said, “about the file...”

      Wearing his professional face again, Brycen said, “The police did a standard job collecting evidence and questioning witnesses and anyone your husband came into contact with prior to the shooting.” СКАЧАТЬ