Page 41 of Thunder Pass

“Ruth,” Gunnar said, worry resonating through his lowered voice. Now worry, that was different. She’d allow it. “I agree with everything you just said. But we have no idea what’s going on with this situation, and even though I hate to say it, I don’t trust my father right now. Or this guy.”

“He’s right,” said Kelly. “You shouldn’t trust anyone. That’s why you should go home and get on with your lives.”

“No,” Gunnar said again, turning back to him. “Maybe my dad doesn’t know I’m a grown man now. If something’s going on that affects me or the people I care about or the town where I live, I want to fucking know, and I want to do something. So come on, Kelly. If my father was here right now, looking me in the eye, what do you think he’d do?”

Kelly’s gruff expression shifted, respect flashing in his eyes. He fought some kind of silent battle with himself, then gave a grudging nod. “I don’t know everything. I’m just the fixer, making sure Anthony’s kids don’t get themselves killed. But maybe there’s something you two can do.” He held both of their gazes, long and serious. “Find out who’s at the Chilkoot compound. Names. Nationalities. That kind of thing. You.” He held Ruth’s gaze. “Lots of new folks there lately, yeah?”

She gave a brief nod, wishing she’d paid more attention to all those newcomers.

“That’s what we thought. Anything you can find out about them, good.” Kelly put his hand on the door handle, preparing to leave.

“Wait. How should we contact you if we learn anything?” Gunnar demanded.

“Don’t worry about that. And be careful. If anything happens to you, your dad will dismantle me. He’s doing all this for you, you know. You’re the only thing that matters to him. Want to know their big mistake? They thought they got rid of him. Not so easy.”

Kelly slipped out of the truck and landed on the ground like a graceful, though aging, cat. A moment later, he vanished into the darkness beyond the trees.

Gunnar pushed open his door and jumped out, staring after his father’s friend. He stood in the pearly dawn light, the expression on his face tearing at her heart. Confusion, anger, heartbreak…but also deep, deep love. The love of a young son who’d refused to leave the place where his father had disappeared. The love of a man who would do anything for someone he cared about.

Her own heart did something she couldn’t explain, and that she’d never felt before. It sort of…melted like butter in a hot pan.

20

Gunnar drove. He wasn’t sure where he was driving to, he just…drove. Was it even safe to go to the hotel? Kelly had said they should go home right away. He hadn’t mentioned anything about the hotel.

There was a reason for that, he realized after he’d been driving for about ten minutes.

“Look,” Ruth said softly. “Our bags are in the backseat. Kelly must have put them there.”

The man sure had planned ahead. Or maybe Dad had done that…he’s closer than you think.

“Should we head north?” Ruth asked after they’d driven aimlessly for another ten minutes.

“I don’t know. I’m not sure I’m in any shape to drive. No sleep, all that sake, then boom, my dad’s colleague the car thief appears. Did you catch what he said about ‘they thought they got rid of him?’ What do you think he meant?”

She shook her head, eyes wide. “I really don’t know. I hate to think Luke had something to do with it, but he can be pretty ruthless. Just look at Daniel.”

Gunnar winced at the reminder. Had Luke tried to do something similar to his father?

“And what national security issue could possibly be going on in little old Firelight Ridge? Do you believe him about that?”

“He seemed pretty believable. I don’t not believe him. But I also don’t really know what that means, national security. I guess I believe him that we should go back to Firelight Ridge. He did give us a job to do.”

That job would require them going back to the Chilkoot compound, but would that even be possible?

“That prosecutor,” he said abruptly. “We can’t leave until we’ve talked to her.”

“Yes, but Kelly said not to talk to the State?—”

“She’s not the State. She’s retired.”

Ruth made a little face. “That seems like a technicality.”

“Not really. He didn’t want us to set off any alarms, but if she’s not working for the state anymore, why would a simple conversation be a problem? She doesn’t have to report to anyone.”

He remembered what Ruth had said before about “not doing that anymore.” He shouldn’t make decisions for her—not any decisions, but especially one that might get them in trouble. “Sorry. I don’t want to assume anything. I want to talk to her, but you don’t have to. I can drop you off somewhere, a coffee shop or something?—”

“If you’re going, I’m going,” she declared. “We’re in this together. I just think we should decide together.”

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