Jim ripped open his jacket. “I’ve got on an extra shirt.” He dropped his jacket and pulled a long-sleeved thermal over his head. Brynn slid the parka out from under Alex while Thomas tied the shirt around his arm and fastened it at his neck.

“That’ll do.”

“Thanks, man.” Alex held out a hand, and Thomas pulled him up to his feet.

Brynn wrapped Alex’s coat around him and rested her head on his chest. “Ready to head back?”

Alex kissed the top of her head. “I’m ready for anything as long as you’re with me.”

Brynn fought back tears. Happy tears.

Jim spoke up, “Anyone else hear a chopper?”

Two Pave Hawk helicopters briefly hovered over the base camp, and Alex stared in awe at the mass of people, cameras, and microphones. The copters landed, blowing the hoods and hats off the spectators and media. Other Madison County Search and Rescue members used their bodies to set up a protective alley from the copters to waiting ambulances, which immediately sped Liam and Tyrone to the hospital. After a short argument, Alex and Ryan refused to get in the ambulance. Alex accepted some painkillers and a sling, and then he brushed off the EMT’s help.

Reporters shouted their questions at the small group. Brynn stuck close to Alex, alternating between glaring at him for refusing care and glaring at the reporters. Sheriff Collins and two other deputies hustled the tired group into the Madison County RV. Collins shooed out the deputies and slammed the door. Alex inhaled the smell of hot coffee; his mouth watered. Someone had cranked up the heat to heavenly. Alex yearned to lie down on the cheap mattress in the back of the RV and sleep for a week. He noticed Matt casting longing looks in the direction of the beds too.

Collins poured six huge cups of coffee, and everyone sighed as they sipped. He filled a bowl with water and set it down for Kiana. The RV was crowded with seven bodies and a large dog, but it felt like a palace after the plane.

“OK.” Collins leaned his bulk against the tiny sink, took a sip of coffee, and ran a hand across his forehead. “You’re sure Darrin Besand didn’t survive? You thoroughly checked the area?”

Everyone nodded.

“No one could survive in that water,” Jim added.

Collins’s gaze rested on Matt and he lifted a brow. He turned to Alex. “You didn’t tell me yesterday that you’d found the team of marshals. What happened to the other marshal?”

“Gary Stewart. He took a shot at Alex. I tackled him and he pulled a gun on me.” Matt looked directly at Collins as he spoke.

“I shot Stewart.” Every set of eyes turned to Alex. “He was about to shoot Matt in the head.”

“Stewart had orders to kill you, didn’t he?” Collins asked flatly.

Alex nodded.

“Because Whittenhall was worried Darrin would tell you his dirty history if you caught up with him out there,” Collins added.

“Darrin did talk. He claimed Whittenhall stood with him and purposefully watched his younger sister drown in a pool years ago.” Alex spoke evenly as Brynn nodded. He felt her hand slip into his.

“What?” The men reacted at his words, bodies stiffening, eyes widening.

“That’s fucking sick,” Matt said.

“When they were kids?” Ryan paled.

“Your tip on Paul Whittenhall has opened a big can of stinking worms,” Collins said to Alex. “You were right about him.”

Alex’s gaze shot to Collins. “You found a reporter to run with the story? One who figured it out?”

“Who? Who figured out what?” Ryan spoke.

“Regan Simmons, reporter for Channel 5 in Portland, found the money trail that led from Whittenhall’s dirty pockets to an offshore account in Darrin’s name. She dug deeper and found a dozen prisoners who’d been moved to cushier prisons or released abnormally early. She’s got families willing to testify they paid Whittenhall to give their imprisoned relative all sorts of illegal breaks.

“And she’s set up a media blitz that’s informed every citizen in Oregon and probably in the United States what the scumbag was up to. I had three deputies following every move Whittenhall made since yesterday morning when Alex called me with his suspicions that Whittenhall was on the take. I didn’t want Whittenhall heading for the border when the news broke. When Regan’s proof started pouring in, I had him arrested.”

“He couldn’t have managed those favors alone. There’s got to be more people involved. Dozens, maybe,” Alex muttered. Linus.

Collins nodded. “They’re coming out of the woodwork. Darrin had been blackmailing Whittenhall with the information. Apparently, Darrin’s attorney had a file to open if Darrin died under unusual circumstances. A file Darrin used to keep Whittenhall under his thumb. And guess what? This plane crash was unusual enough for the attorney to open the file.” Collins shook his head. “In there was proof that Whittenhall was involved in receiving monies from families of his prisoners and that he committed murders when he and Darrin were kids.”

“His sister,” mumbled Alex, feeling the contents in his stomach spin.

Collins nodded. “And more. At least three more between the two of them.”

Alex’s hands ached to punch Whittenhall in his blowhard mouth. At least he’d managed to stab him once. How had the agent become such a powerful man in law enforcement? How had he fooled people for so many years? Obviously, the man had serious mental issues.