The room fell silent, and Brynn squeezed his hand. Collins’s brown gaze pinned him. “One more thing. I’m not going to charge you with impersonating a federal agent. I understand why you did what you did, and I’m going to do everything I can to keep your name out of this mess, because, frankly, I don’t know how to explain it.” Collins’s look extended to the others. “As far as you’re concerned, it was just the regular four-man SAR team out there until you met up with Boyles and Stewart.”

Relief rolled through Alex like a storm.

“What about Stewart?” Alex asked. “There has to be a reason he ended up dead.”

“I shot him when he pulled a gun on me,” Matt stated.

“I witnessed the whole thing,” Thomas spoke for the first time.

They can’t do this.

“No. This isn’t right.” Alex straightened. “My shots, I take the consequences.”

Collins ignored him and looked at his watch. “I’ve got a press conference to handle.” He pointed at a tiny TV as he stepped out of the RV. “Take a listen.”

Alex slumped. His hand shook as he lifted the coffee cop to his lips. Matt turned on the TV.

Fifteen seconds later the group watched Collins on the small screen; the harsh camera lights made his face appear more tired than in the RV. Collins looked over his audience and waited, his solemn countenance bringing silence to the press. Admiration for the tough man welled up in Alex’s throat. Collins was the kind of man he would like to work for.

Collins spoke, “All the men on board the US Marshals’ transport perished in the crash. Two pilots, a marshal, and serial killer Darrin Besand.” A quiet ripple sounded from the crowd.

“My search and rescue team camped at the crash site because one member became ill and couldn’t hike out. Due to adverse weather conditions, we couldn’t go in and get them. Day before yesterday, the team split up. Two men had intended to hike out for help when they crossed the path of a chopper wreck. Without my knowledge or approval, this civilian chopper had been searching for the downed plane. The pilot was severely injured, and the team returned to the crash site with the two men from the chopper.”

Collins paused and studied the silent crowd who hung on his every word. “The US Marshals’ office sent in their own twoman team to search for the plane. When one of the marshals turned on the other, he was killed in return fire. The second marshal came out with my team just now.”

A murmur rolled across the crowd. Reporters started to shout questions, but Collins held up his hands for silence. “There were two head injuries, a team member with a dislocated shoulder, and another member with the flu. You all saw them walk to the ambulances, and I’m told they’ll be just fine. Now I’ll take a few questions.” The crowd erupted. Collins singled out one reporter in front.

“Why did one marshal shoot at the other?”

Collins paused. “The shooting marshal was acting under direct orders from Paul Whittenhall. I know you’ve all heard about the corruption at the upper level of the Oregon Marshals’ office. The second marshal is lucky to be alive. Paul Whittenhall has a lot to answer for. And he’ll be doing it from a prison cell.”

A blurry mass of questions rose from the crowd. Collins pointed at a woman.

“Sheriff, how long have you known no one survived the plane crash?”

Collins looked grim. “I knew about three of the deaths early on and spoke privately with their families. One body wasn’t found with the plane. The plane had split into two pieces and the searchers didn’t locate the last body until yesterday. I was waiting for news of the fourth death before releasing the news of all the deaths. That’ll be all for now.”

Matt turned off the TV.

A knock sounded on the door, and one of the deputies stuck his head in. “Who wants to go to McDonald’s? Then a hotel with real beds?”

Alex ate two Big Macs, a supersize fries, and a Coke. Then fell promptly to sleep in the Suburban on the way to the hotel.

Brynn shook him awake as the deputy pulled to a stop. People in the lobby stared at the dirty and disheveled group. In a stupor, Alex checked in and said good night to Ryan, Jim, and Matt at the elevator. He held on to Brynn’s hand, unable to let her go.

They stumbled into his room. Alex immediately showered while Brynn called the hospital to check on Tyrone and Liam. He considered shaving, but there wasn’t a razor in the little kit from the hotel, just a toothbrush and toothpaste. He brushed for ten minutes. No razor was a good thing, because he might accidentally cut his throat in exhaustion.

Alex stared at his pile of filthy clothes on the floor in the bathroom and shrugged at his lack of clean clothes. He slipped his arm back into the sling, grabbed a robe off the back of the door, and stepped out of the steamy bliss into the warm room. Brynn had cranked up the thermostat.

“Liam’s gonna be OK,” she announced. “Tyrone too. The hospital’s gonna keep Tyrone for a couple of nights but will release Liam in the morning.” She gave him a quick kiss, pushed past him, and closed the door to the bathroom.

Alex looked at the closed door. Then looked at the bed. He dropped his robe and slid under the covers naked.

Fuck, yes.

Crisp, clean sheets. Four pillows. And lots of blankets. Heaven. Groggy with fatigue, he instantly fell asleep.

He woke as Brynn slipped into bed beside him. She smelled of fresh soap, damp hair, and woman.

She was in his bed.