Melting The Ice

Hannah perused the menu. “I’m not that hungry. I’ll have the fruit cup. And a coffee.”

“The eggs are good. I had them yesterday. You look like you could do with some protein.”

“I’ll have the fruit.”

She watched him as he placed their order. He was still in his T-shirt and sweatpants, but that did nothing to diminish his dark aura of authority. He cut a powerful figure. She watched the muscles twist under the tanned skin of his forearm as he handed the menus to the server and checked his watch. Her eyes were drawn by the motion, the silver of the watch, the dark hair on his arm, the solid breadth of his wrist. She’d forgotten the beauty of his fingers. Long. Strong. Those hands. They could be so rough yet so achingly gentle. He had run them over her hot skin once. Moved from her ankles up, slowly, along the inside of her thighs—

No. She yanked her mind back into the present. He was watching her. Intently. His eyes deep, unreadable pools. His lids with their thick fringe of lashes low. God, he’d been reading her mind.

Shaken, she lifted her water glass, gulped and silently thanked the waitress for her timing as she arrived with a pot of coffee.

Hannah’s hand was unsteady as she poured cream into her coffee, remembering that he took his black. Funny how little details could stick in your mind over the years.

Rex spooned sugar into his cup, still silent.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

He leaned forward, forearms on the table. His words were low, for her ears only. “Keep your voice down. Don’t whisper. Mumbling is better. The sound doesn’t carry as well. Got it?”

She nodded.

He looked deep into her eyes, searching. “I shouldn’t be telling you this. I don’t want to involve you.”

“Rex, I’m in this whether you like it or not.”

“I don’t. And what I’m going to tell you has to remain between us. Hannah, I have to trust you. Lives could depend on it.”

“You’re a fine one to be talking about trust, Logan.”

She saw the slight narrowing of his eyes, the shadow that flitted through them. But he let her jibe pass. He wasn’t going to be drawn there. “You’re a reporter.”

“I can keep a secret, Rex. Believe me. I haven’t gone to the cops.” Yet.

He took a sip of his coffee, watching her over the rim.

“Well, what did you find in Amy’s apartment?”

“Two library books and a document.”

“Oh, that definitely means she met with foul play.”

He wasn’t amused. “It’s the subject matter. Amy Barnes was reading up-to-date information on biological warfare.”

“What?”

“It wasn’t just biological weapons she was interested in. She was reading up on genetically engineered BW technology.”

“Okay. I’m having real trouble joining the dots here. Help me out.”

“We have reason to believe that Amy came across something here in White River that landed her in trouble. Something to do with biological weapons.”

“We?”

“Bio Can.”

“What’s a pharmaceutical company got to do with this?”

“Let’s just say Bio Can has a highly specialized division focused on developing antidotes and vaccines for bugs with a potential to be weaponized.”

Her head was spinning. “But I thought your field was more indigenous medicine.” At least that’s what you told me in Africa.

“It is. I work in both divisions.” He stopped talking as the server arrived with their food. Rex tucked into his egg and bacon platter, savoring a mouthful before continuing.

Hannah stared at her fruit. Biological weapons? What in the hell had Amy been up to? “Maybe she was just researching something, Rex, for a story.”

He chewed, nodded. “Maybe. But there was a piece of paper in one of the books. On it is the name and number of a CIA agent, one who specializes in biowarfare intelligence.”

“Oh my God.”

He sipped his coffee. “How’s the fruit?”

The question seemed suddenly so inane. Hannah looked at the plate in front of her, picked up a fork and jabbed at a strawberry. “Fine.” She felt ill.

“And I checked Amy’s computer last night. The hard drive has been cleaned out.”

Hannah stiffened. “That’s it. The break-in. That’s what they took. Electronic data. No wonder the cops didn’t find anything.”

“Well, whoever took the data didn’t find the library books.”

“But who?”

“That’s what I’m here to find out. I’m hoping you’ll help.”

“I don’t get it, Rex. Why White River? What’s the connection?”

“We don’t know. But the forensic toxicology conference is a common denominator here. We suspect something may be going down.”

“Like what?”

“A deal. An information exchange, maybe. We haven’t got much time.”

“But what does a conference like that have to do with biological warfare, anyway?”

Rex pushed his plate aside. “There is a component on the conference agenda that covers lethal viruses and new research in the field of forensic detection. It’s that kind of stuff that draws top scientists from around the world. Ideas are exchanged. Connections made. Deals made. Most of it happens offstage. Bio Can likes to keep on top of these kinds of developments. So do a lot of other agencies.”

Hannah looked out through the little window panes at a group of young people gathered in the sun on the patio across the village square. Amy should be with them, laughing, planning her next snowboarding trip, her next surfing expedition. She had been cheated out of her future.

She turned back to face the man in front of her. “So you’re telling me you’re one of the good guys?”