“You weren’t kidding when you said he keeps insurance.”
“A gun,” she says. “This feels dirty in every possible meaning of the word.”
“Did you expect anything less?”
“Maybe it’s not what it seems and Darius was actually one of the good guys. He did leave this for me to find.”
“I won’t be convinced that’s a gift instead of another problem until we inspect the contents.” I ease forward and glance outside, checking the worsening weather. “And as eager as I know you are, we can’t do that here, now. It’s too early in the season and it’s been too warm during the day for me to feel like this storm is going to actually bury us, but we can’t take any chances out here. We need to get back to the cabin before we get buried out here.”
Ana rezips the bag and since I want her hand free should we run into trouble, I grab it before exiting the shelter. Once I’m on my feet, I pull her to hers. Soon, we’re going to find out what Darius knew that we don’t know, and I fear some of it might come as a blow Ana does not expect. If that proves true, we’ll deal with it, as she herself said: better together than apart.
We start the hike back to the cabin, our footsteps already covered by snow, which means no one can track us, but in turn, we can’t see anyone who might be tracking us. Thus far, there’s been no sign of anyone, and I no longer have the sense of being watched, nor has Ana brought up a further concern. Big cats are stealthy predators who will stalk and kill, with the kind of stealthy skill of a damn superhero. The possibility that we were simply dealing with a wild animal is a real one. Not our enemy and not Kurt.
I haven’t allowed myself to consider the idea that Kurt could be the enemy.
Finding him alive under those circumstances would equate to nearly the same pain to Ana as me pulling the trigger and killing Kasey. And that’s not a world me or Ana want to live in. It’s not one we’d both survive.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Luke
Upon our return to the cabin, we finish searching it and drape our coats over the kitchen chairs to dry. The fire burns low and I immediately throw more wood on to burn. Ana unwraps the blankets we purchased at the store and drapes them over the couch, setting bottled water and protein bars out for our evening feast.
When we finally sit down on the couch, the insulated bag sits on the coffee table, between us. “Why am I not ripping it open?” Ana asks. “What am I afraid of? I want this over. In premise, what’s inside that bag allows that to happen.”
I squeeze her leg. “Maybe a part of you doesn’t want to know just how involved in all of this Darius was.”
“No,” she says. “I want to know everything.”
She reaches for the bag and unzips it, folding back the lid. She reaches for the gun in its plastic bag, which is not labeled. “Obviously this has someone’s fingerprints on it and a connection to a crime. There’s no other reason why it would be bagged and hidden out here.”
“We’ll have Blake check out the serial number and the prints. He can keep it off law enforcement radar.”
She sets the gun down and reaches for the tape recorder. “This is the gold,” she says. “I’m certain of it.” She draws a breath and hits play. A few moments later, a male voice is speaking to us.
September 5th.
Ana.
Ana murmurs, “It’s Darius,” her fingers lock together in front of her.
If you’re listening to this, I clearly ended up dead and that sucks. I’m pissed about it, oh yeah, I am. I’m sure you’re pissed at me, too. I’m sure you found out some things about me. I wish I could tell you this recording was me explaining how I got blackmailed into bad decisions, or how what I did saved even one life. It’s not. Bottom line, I got greedy. I was tired of watching the criminals get rich and the good guys get dead. I figured I might as well get rich and get out.
Ana pauses the recording and looks over at me. “Damn it and damn him.”
“He paid the ultimate price, baby. Now, all we can do is try to save the lives he didn’t.”
She nods and turns the recording back on.
I’m not going to get into the when, why, and how bullshit, Darius continues, inside the notebook, you’ll find a list of packages that I know were delivered, which dates, and buyers names. I don’t know what was in the packages. I didn’t want to know. I wasn’t even involved in that side of things, but you know how I roll. I wanted to know what I as involved with. I did some digging. I followed someone important to the operation. I recorded his conversations. I took photos. There’s a key in the bag. It goes to a lock box loaded with that shit.