Shadow of Doubt Read online

  “What’s that?”

  Cage grinned. “We’re testing some new software. This takes high-res satellite photos and combines it with a groundwater atlas of local aquifers, a sketch of underground railroad routes, and local mine company surveys.”

  Mad Dog set his designs aside, instantly intrigued. One of his special skills was creating safe spaces and hidey-holes in practically any environment, so the thought of an underground network was absolutely fascinating. He peered closer, recognizing the site they had up. “That’s Sanctuary.”

  “It is,” Church confirmed, joining them. “The hills and mountains around here are filled with forgotten caves, abandoned mines, and defunct quarries—not to mention, tunnels once used by prohibitionists, the Underground Railroad, and more recently, bomb shelters put in during the Cuban Missile Crisis.”

  He whistled, excited by the possibilities. That kind of knowledge was a huge tactical advantage. Escape routes, safe rooms, storage—the possibilities were endless ... and worrisome in the wrong hands. “Who else knows about this?”

  “Anyone local would be aware of the stories, but I doubt many have actual firsthand knowledge. The mines closed years ago. Most of the tunnels that didn’t collapse on their own were sealed off.”

  Mad Dog knew Church well enough to hear the subtle edge in his otherwise casual tone. “Anyone local” included those who had a beef with Sanctuary. And “most of the tunnels” was not the same thing as all.

  “How many are still viable?”

  Church shrugged. “That’s what we’re trying to find out. If there are serviceable underground passageways in and around Sanctuary, we need to know about it.”

  “Count me in.”

  “Yeah, thought you’d say that.”

  Mad Dog waved toward the screen. “So, what brought this on anyway?”

  “A hunch,” Cage said, shrugging his shoulders.

  Common sense suggested it was more than a hunch, but then again, maybe not. Cage loved playing around with his programs and had been in his glory since he discovered a kindred soul in Ian Callaghan.

  “An educated guess based on Petraski’s recent purchases,” Doc supplied. “A shit-ton of six-by-sixes and aluminum shoring beams, for example.”

  “That’s not conclusive evidence that they’re going underground,” he pointed out.

  “It’s not conclusive evidence that they’re not either,” Cage countered. “You of all people know how advantageous an underground bunker is in the face of a threat. And we still don’t know how Dwayne Freed and those vandals got as close as they did without being detected.”

  Mad Dog understood. Thanks to his time overseas, he was intimately familiar with the advantages and disadvantages of underground caves and networks.

  “I do. But Petraski and friends aren’t special teams, are they? Six-by-sixes and aluminum beams can be used for a lot more than shoring up old tunnels. Judging by some of the way their compound shacks are slapped together, they might just be looking to upgrade what they’ve already got.”

  “Maybe,” Church agreed, but his expression was doubtful.

  Mad Dog wondered what he knew that the rest of them didn’t. The guy liked to play things close to the vest and was the poster child for disseminating information on a need-to-know basis. However, Mad Dog also knew that if they did need to know something, they would.

  Proving his point, Church added, “Regardless, we need to know what’s under our feet.”

  They all murmured their agreement.

  “So,” Doc said, shifting gears, “how’d the big date go?”

  Mad Dog withheld his sigh. So much for no cross-examination. “It went fine.” He pointed at the screen. “Can I access those from my laptop?”

  Cage nodded. His smile suggested Mad Dog’s change of subject had not gone unnoticed.

  “Good. I’ll check them out along with these.” He stood and tapped the cylinder containing the plans.

  If he’d thought he’d have a clean getaway, he was mistaken. Church followed him out, and it sure as hell wasn’t because he needed an escort.

  “Something on your mind, Church?”

  “You went out with Kate Handelmann,” Church said, his tone giving nothing away.

  It wasn’t a question, but Mad Dog nodded anyway.

  “Was she pumping you for information about us?”

  “No,” he answered honestly, then narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

  “The Handelmanns have been around for a long time.”

  “So? I thought they were good people.”

  “They are. They’re also tight with a lot of local VIPs—not to mention, they depend on the business of those VIPs to survive. We already know they’ve been supplying a lot of the materials used by Petraski and the other preppers, and Kate’s ex is the one handling the finances.”

  “Again, I ask, so?”

  “So, you need to keep that in the back of your mind.”

  “Duly noted. We done?”

  Church grimaced. “Yeah, we’re done.”

  Mad Dog grabbed his coat and left, feeling hot enough under the collar that he probably didn’t need it. He was irrationally angry at Church’s unspoken but very clear insinuation—that Kate might be using him to get inside information. What made him even angrier was the possibility that Church could be right.

  He didn’t want to believe that Kate was interested in spending time with him for any other reason than she wanted to. It certainly hadn’t felt as if she had an ulterior motive. Not when they’d talked over dinner and definitely not when he’d kissed her good night.

  Could he trust his instincts where Kate was concerned? Or was he allowing what he wanted to cloud the reality of what was? He wasn’t exactly an expert on women. While he held immense appreciation for the opposite sex, he hadn’t actively pursued or participated in relationships because he never felt strongly enough about anyone to want to.

  Kate was different. He’d felt instantly drawn to her. And he definitely wanted more.

  He was still grumbling when he reached his trailer, the excitement of exploring and mapping out underground routes overshadowed by Church’s unwelcome and unsolicited warning.

  Tossing the cylinder on the sofa seat, he removed his coat and pulled his phone out of the zippered pocket. The light was blinking, informing him of a missed text. He swiped his print across the screen and immediately felt his heart speed up.

  Kate: My lips are still tingling.

  He laughed and thumbed out a response.

  Mad Dog: Good.

  He followed that up with a winking smiley face. That alone proved that the woman affected him. It might have been his first use of an emoji ever.

  Chapter Ten

  Kate

  Kate looked at Chris’s text and grinned like an idiot, picturing him pulling those fine male lips into a devastating smile.

  She shifted, feeling yet another flare of desire as her thoughts ventured into wicked territory. She hadn’t specified which set of “lips” were tingling. Spoiler alert: both.

  That was a novel feeling for Kate. The man’s kisses had been potent enough to have her blood simmering with unrealized potential, making her feel like what her grandmother would have called a sexpot.

  And not just his kisses. His touch. His deep, bone-liquefying, panty-melting voice.

  Gah. She was officially suffering from the worst case of lust she’d ever had. She needed to get a handle on that, pronto, before she said or did something she’d regret.

  She really liked this guy and didn’t want to screw things up. In addition to pushing her feminine hot buttons, he was also intelligent, funny, gentlemanly, and extremely easy to be around.

  Fortunately, Chris seemed to have a better grip on his self-control than she had on hers and had been able to stop things before they went too far, too fast. If it had been up to her, they’d have been upstairs in her bedroom, putting her box spring to the ultimate test—assuming he wasn’t a quick-shooter, that was.

>   She didn’t think he was a quick shooter. She thought he was the type of man who would take his time and be very, very thorough, eliciting every possible drop of pleasure and making it last.

  Unfortunately, that left her feeling rather ... restless. She was coping by sitting on her couch in her favorite super-soft flannel PJs with a cup of hot chocolate, topped with mini marshmallows and a lot of whipped cream. If she couldn’t satisfy one desire, she would compensate with another. Chocolate, marshmallow, and whipped cream couldn’t compare to good sex, but it was the next best thing.

  She bit her lip and typed out a response.

  Kate: I had a great time tonight.

  Three dots popped up on her screen, disappeared, and then appeared again. That happened several times before her phone chimed with an incoming call.

  “I hope you don’t mind. I thought this would be easier.” Hearing Chris’s deep, rich voice sent a fresh wave of tingles through her.

  “Not at all. I prefer talking to texting, but I didn’t want to bother you.”

  “You could never be a bother, Kate.”

  Her heart—and a few other things—warmed. The way he’d said it, she could almost believe him.

  “Same.” She winced after the word was out of her mouth, realizing just how lame that sounded.

  He chuckled. “Good to know.”

  “So ... what are you doing?”

  “You mean, besides trying not to think of what we might be doing had I not walked away?”

  Gah. “Yes.”

  “Looking over some designs. You?”

  “Indulging in hot chocolate with extra whipped cream and also trying not to think of what we might be doing had you not walked away.”

  He groaned softly. “I’m an idiot.”

  She laughed. “No, you’re not. I’m glad you did.”

  “You are?”

  No. “Yes. I’m choosing to believe you did so because you find me intriguing and want me for more than just a warm, willing body.” Yes, she was fishing, casting bait under a smoke screen of light humor and boldness.

  “You are one hundred percent correct.”

  She basked in that for a moment, snuggling into the warmth his words had generated. Part of her wanted to continue with brazen, sexy talk, but she’d already pushed the envelope out of her limited comfort zone.

  “What kind of designs are you working on?”

  There was a noticeable hesitation on his end, long enough for her to wonder if maybe she shouldn’t have asked.

  “Do you really want to know?” he asked softly.

  “Yes,” she answered immediately. She wanted to know everything about this fascinating man.

  “A greenhouse.”

  “Really? That’s awesome. I thought about getting a small one myself. They make DIY kits you can buy, you know.”

  “I do know.”

  She heard the smile in his voice and forged on. “They’re expensive though and more complicated than you’d think. I was so excited, thinking about growing fresh produce and herbs all year-round, but I neglected to factor in what it would take to heat and light the thing over winter.” She proceeded to regale him with what she’d discovered in her research, including a short monologue on maintaining a proper growing environment, before she realized what she was doing. “I’m sorry. I’m babbling again.”

  “I like when you babble, especially when you’re talking about something that interests you.”

  Her heart melted a little more. Those zippy tingles had settled down into a comfortable buzz that had nothing to do with her decadent hot chocolate and everything to do with the man on the other end of the connection.

  Familiar noises sounded from the kitchen. The quiet thump of the doggie door resealing, the click of nails on the kitchen floor. She didn’t think too much about it at first, other than Duke was coming in later than usual. Then, he appeared in the doorway and started barking at her.

  “Kate, what’s going on?” Chris asked, his voice no longer holding amusement.

  “I don’t know,” she answered, putting her mug down and rising. “It’s Duke. Something’s wrong. He’s acting weird.”

  Chris’s subsequent words didn’t register. She was too busy trying to figure out what Duke was trying to tell her.

  “I’ve got to go. I’ll text you later.” She disconnected the call and stared at Duke. She’d never seen him act like that before. “Duke, what’s going on, boy?”

  Duke remained in the doorway, doing this pitter-patter thing with his front paws, and barked in answer. Only when she started toward him did he turn and head back into the kitchen to stand by the doggie door, waiting for her to catch up.

  “You want me to follow you?” she guessed.

  He barked.

  She took that as a yes. Still in her flannel pajamas, she stepped into the snow boots she kept by the back door and grabbed her parka and a flashlight. “Okay, let’s go.”

  She followed Duke into the backyard, flicking on the flashlight once they were past the reach of the porch light. In the past few hours, the air had turned frigid enough to insta-freeze the tiny hairs in her nose with each inhale. Snow crunched under her feet, and she pulled her coat tighter, wishing she’d thought to grab gloves and a hat, too.

  Duke led her into the woods, moving faster on his four paws than she could on two legs and having to pause every fifty yards or so for her to catch up. The night sky was clear. Enough moonlight shone down through the trees to reflect on the snow for her to see once her eyes adjusted. She tripped a few times, mostly on obstacles like fallen branches hidden beneath the snow cover.

  The farther they went, the more she wished she’d had the foresight to dress more appropriately for a nighttime hike. She considered heading back but also sensed that whatever Duke was trying to show her was important.

  They trudged on, the trip seeming farther than it was because of the darkness and snow. She’d grown up around here, and so she knew these woods like the back of her hand, which was how she also knew they were headed toward the Paxton anthracite mine entrance, but why they were headed there remained a mystery. The absurdity of the situation conjured memories of watching old black-and-white Lassie reruns with her grandmother.

  If there had been a well around there somewhere, it would have been perfect.

  As it was, there was just the old mine entrance that had held such fascination for her as a child. According to the stories, the mine had been abandoned since the early 1900s. The owners opted to put their money and resources into bigger, more productive mines after a massive strike by the United Mine Workers in 1902. Nature had reclaimed the area over the last century, but it was there for those who knew where to look.

  Like her.

  Duke suddenly disappeared into a thicket-covered rock face, confirming the destination. She crouched down and crawled along behind him, ignoring the chilly wetness seeping through her pajamas and the catch of two-inch-long spiky pickers in her coat and hair.

  Once inside, the air was cold but relatively dry. She rose to standing, confident that the ceiling was high enough to do so. Scents of stone, earth, and wooden beams filled her nose, taking her back to her childhood. Once, this had been her secret hideaway. As far as she knew, no one knew about it besides her.

  She held her breath and moved her flashlight over the interior, pleased to find that nothing much had changed. Her secret lair was intact, very much the way she’d left it a decade and a half ago.

  Duke’s whimper had her swinging the flashlight toward the back. Her eyes widened when a second pair of eyes glowed back at her.

  “Oh, Duke.”

  She moved slowly and cautiously toward the other dog, murmuring soft assurances. It looked as if she’d tried to build a nest. She lay in a pile of small cloth items—beanies, mittens, socks, and dish towels, many of which Kate recognized as having come from her house.

  The dog had beautiful golden eyes, which were currently looking at her just as cautiously. Duke moved closer
and nuzzled her before sitting close by. Her head was lifted, her ears alert, but she remained lying down.

  It didn’t take long to understand why.

  “You’re going to be a daddy, huh? Well, at least now, I know where you’ve been disappearing to.”

  The female was a gentle creature and, after a few minutes, allowed Kate to pet her and give her a quick once-over. She was no vet, but she was pretty sure the dog was close to giving birth.

  She also knew that the cold, damp, cave-like space was not the ideal place to do so.

  The question was, what was she going to do about it? She didn’t know the first thing about dogs having puppies. Even if it was safe to move her, Kate didn’t think she could carry the pregnant mama dog back to her place at night in the snow. She was a big girl, close to Duke’s size.

  Kate reached into her pocket to grab her phone, only to find that she didn’t have it with her. She’d left it at the house in her haste to follow Duke. Well, hell.

  “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do,” she said to Duke as if he understood every word. “You stay here and keep her company. I’m going to go back to the house to grab some blankets and food and water. Then, we’ll figure out where to go from there.”

  She knew it was only a trick of the shadows, but she swore Duke had nodded back at her. He protectively lay down in front of the mama dog while Kate went back to the entrance, got onto her hands and knees, and crawled out. Then, she hurried as fast as her numbing legs would allow.

  Once back in her kitchen, she was shocked to discover that nearly two hours had passed. She quickly discarded her wet pajamas and pulled on thermals, thick wool socks, and other outdoor-appropriate clothing. As she did so, she called the emergency animal hospital and explained the situation.

  Their advice: as long as the mama dog wasn’t hurt or in distress, keep her as calm and comfortable as possible. The tech she spoke with was very nice and assured her that, in most cases, not a lot of human intervention was required during the birthing process. Kate really hoped this was one of those cases.