wild animals and died. Not something Kristine would usually want to learn the gory details about, but this was different. Maybe somehow those details could lead to more information about Grace and Simon.
“Good idea,” she said and watched as his long, thick fingers sailed over the keys. She had a passing wonderment about how those fingers would feel playing over her … Ridiculous!
She settled down to watch the screen over his shoulder. There wasn’t a lot of data in most of the news stories Quinn brought up at first, but enough to make Kristine wonder.
Even so, she still wasn’t willing to accept Simon and Grace’s involvement.
Quinn turned on the sound as he went into a video news clip from a local Bar Harbor television station.
That one was so horrible that parts of the pictures were blurred.
Enough was shown to display how mutilated the bodies were—gashed and bloodied, as if ripped by teeth and claws.
“The authorities are still investigating,” the announcer intoned as the camera panned around what appeared to be a clearing in a forest, described as part of Acadia National Park. “So far, they appear to believe this was an attack by some kind of wild animal that has not yet been identified. This is the worst event in the park since a man walking his dog apparently fell to his death and, before that, a young tourist was killed by a rogue wave along the shore several years ago. Back to you, John.” The picture returned to an announcer in a studio somewhere before phasing out.
“Some kind of wild animal,” Kristine mused aloud.
“A wolf?” said Quinn. “Two wolves?”
“They’re not speculating on that—or at least this reporter didn’t,” Kristine responded.
“Yeah, but—” Quinn clicked on another site, one for which he had to enter a password. Kristine couldn’t be sure, but it appeared to be some kind of official law enforcement website, although Quinn got off the main page immediately to do a search for Acadia.
What showed on the screen was a detailed list of crimes in the Bar Harbor area. Next, he clicked on something that brought up this specific crime.
Kristine watched his face as Quinn squinted at the small print that came up. “Couple of agencies are involved in this investigation,” he said. “There’s some speculation about what kinds of animals could be involved. Species that still have habitats around there include foxes, coyotes, bobcats and black bears. Used to be mountain lions, too—and gray wolves.”
Wolves. The word hung in the air this time.
“Not Grace and Simon,” Kristine whispered, hoping it was true. She put her hand on Quinn’s shoulder—whether to reassure him or convince him, she wasn’t sure.
The touch was like a bolt of lightning, making her even more cognizant of his hot and alluring presence. But she wasn’t a wimp. She had courage—of all kinds. She let her hand rest there … for now.
Even when he turned his head a little and looked at her with those golden eyes.
“So what do you think?” she asked him.
“What do you think?” he countered. “You willing to go there to help me investigate—in any form I need to be? Your commanding officers—our commanding officers—apparently have to act dead set against our being there.”
He’d used the word dead. Like the two mutilated tourists.
Like Alpha Force would be, if the perpetrators really were Grace and Simon, and that got out to the world.
Kristine understood why the muckety-mucks like General Yarrow and that guy Olivante from the Department of Defense’s Defense Special Projects Agency were so concerned.
Not everyone, even in the military, knew about Alpha Force. But if it were ever shown that the killings were done by shapeshifters, and that those shapeshifters were not just part of some grotesque horror story but members of a very covert and elite U.S. military force, the repercussions could be terrible.
Terrible to the U.S. Armed Forces.
And potentially devastating—fatal—to the existence of Alpha Force.
What would happen to its members then—especially its shapeshifter members?
They’d be humiliated at the least. Outed. Paraded as absurd freaks through the media.
They would never be able to use their very special, unique and amazing abilities to help with national security ever again.
The people like General Yarrow and Team Leader Olivante would be out to do the best damage control they could.
If that meant dealing with Grace and Simon in some terrible way, they’d do it—even the general, who clearly loved Alpha Force. If they needed scapegoats—scapewolves—they’d do what they had to.
But both Quinn and she would have different agendas. His might be different from hers, as well.
She wanted to learn the truth. Protect Grace and Simon if they were innocent, which she prayed they were.
But she would protect Alpha Force, too.
Quinn? Well, his main agenda might be to help his brother and sister-in-law, no matter what.
She would work with him, at least until their agendas diverged. Then, she would see.
“Let’s do it,” she said.
“Good.” He paused, then stood. She couldn’t read the expression on his face, but it seemed challenging. With a touch of humor added? “Here’s what we’ll do, then. We’ll go to Bar Harbor tomorrow, undercover. And know what our cover IDs will be?”
“No,” she said, sure she wouldn’t like the response.
“To get the most information about our missing honeymoon couple—” he paused dramatically, then grinned “—you and I will be there on our honeymoon, too.”
“What?” Kristine froze. What was he talking about?
And why did the words send the tiniest shiver of anticipation through her?
She shrugged it off. She knew what he meant. But—
“With assumed identities, of course,” he said curtly. “Like I said, undercover.” Although when she dared to look at him she saw not only humor, but also challenge, in his expression. “That’ll help us get the most information possible as we investigate.”
“Of course. Great idea.” She attempted to sound nonchalant. “We’ll try to follow Grace and Simon’s trail as much as possible. We’ll find and clear them.
You’ll see.”
Chapter 4
The hotel was charming, a converted Victorian mansion right in the heart of Bar Harbor. From what Kristine had seen of it so far, the downtown area was a small, charismatic
