Chapter 4

4

Fenn watched Kate work, her brow furrowed in concentration. The hangar was filled with the sound of metal on metal, the occasional frustrated exclamation from Kate punctuating the air. Fenn leaned against the workbench, his arms crossed, trying to piece together the bits of information she had shared.

But Kate being special ops trained, there weren't enough crumbs to work with. Yet.

"So, what's the plan?" he asked, his voice casual.

Kate didn't look up from her work. "The plan is to remove this part and order a new one."

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I got that part. I mean, what's the plan for dealing with this warning you got?"

She shrugged, her focus still on the task at hand. "I don't know. I'll figure it out."

He pushed off the workbench, moving closer to her. "Come on, Kate. This had to come from somewhere. There are only, what, like twelve people in Endurance? It can't be that hard to figure out who's behind it."

She finally looked up, her expression guarded. "It's not that simple. Just let me handle it, okay?"

He bit back a frustrated sigh. She'd answered a few of his questions, but only enough to make it seem like she was cooperating. The big stuff remained hidden.

She handed him a rag, gesturing to the grease on the floor. "Here, why don't you clean that up?"

He took the rag, his jaw clenching. It was becoming increasingly obvious that she had no intention of letting him help, not really.

He moved to clean the grease, his mind racing. If Kate wasn't going to let him in on her plans, he'd just have to conduct his own investigation.

He had spent his entire life being underestimated, people assuming he was nothing more than a pretty face with a quick wit. But he was sharp, observant, and he knew how to get information.

He glanced at Kate, who was now struggling with a particularly stubborn bolt. She was so focused on her task, so determined to handle everything on her own. She probably wouldn't even notice if he slipped away.

He tossed the rag aside, straightening up. "I'm gonna go grab us some coffee. You want anything else?"

She waved him off, not even looking up. "No, I'm good. Thanks."

He headed for the door. The bitter cold hit him like a slap in the face as he stepped outside, the wind whipping at his clothes. He pulled his coat tighter around him, his breath forming clouds in the air. He wasn't a sailor, but he could feel the air pressure dropping. Storm coming.

He plunged out into the dark, sticking to the pools of light shooting down from the outside lights on the buildings. The area was quiet, the icy streets deserted but for a clump of snowmobiles parked in a ragged line near the door to the Frostbite, the combination diner/tavern, AKA the only place to eat in town.

He made his way over, his mind already working on a plan. He'd start with the locals, see if anyone had noticed anything unusual in the past few days. In a place this small, someone was bound to have seen something.

As he pushed open the door, the warm air and the smell of coffee enveloped him. The cozy, rustic atmosphere might have been inviting to most, but Fenn saw it for what it was—a potential gold mine of information, a place where loose lips and lowered inhibitions could lead to the answers he sought.

Aiden Dupuis, the bartender they saw most days during their week here, stood behind the bar. Light glistened off his thick, black hair as he polished glasses. An excellent place to start. Aiden was young and smart and very talkative. And, if Fenn's intuition was on-track, the guy had military experience. Maybe special ops. Something about the man's size and quiet confidence seemed familiar.

If they were back in Redemption Creek, Dupuis was the kind of guy Fenn might enjoy hanging out with.

Dupuis looked up, his eyebrows raising in recognition. "Back for more chili?"

Fenn pressed a hand to his stomach. "No can do. Not until dinner, anyway. I could do with a couple coffees to go, though."

Dupuis nodded and grabbed the pot. "Heard you guys had some trouble with your plane."

Fenn grinned, leaning against the counter. "Broken strut. Just the ice gods having their fun. We'll be out of your hair in no time."

The man chuckled, pouring dark brew into two cups. "No rush. Not like we get a lot of excitement around here."

Fenn handed over cash and fixed lids on the cups, his eyes casually sweeping the room as he turned back to the counter. He leaned in slightly, his voice low and conversational. "Quite the crowd for a weekday afternoon."

Dupuis shrugged, wiping his hands on a towel. "Eh, just the regulars. The longer the sun stays away, the antsier everybody gets. Most peeps like an excuse to get out of their houses."

Fenn raised an eyebrow, feigning mild interest. "Plus it gives people a chance to check out the visitors. You all probably don't get a lot of new faces out here. Must be pretty exciting when someone new rolls into town."

Dupuis chuckled. "Depends on the company. I can't lie. Your team's been good for business. I'm sorry to see you all go."

Fenn nodded, taking a sip of his coffee. "Well Kate and I'll be staying a while. We'll do what we can to keep the customers rolling in."

"Nice." Dupuis grinned. "Kate's…" His voice trailed off.

"Yeah, she is." Fenn knew exactly what the guy meant.

Women weren't thick on the ground in old Endurance. Kate and Paige had their own sets of groupies during their stay.

Dupuis set down his rag and leaned against the counter. "Why do think it's so packed for a random Tuesday afternoon? Word's already gotten out about your plane." He shuddered. "Mostly, the gossip's a good thing. People taking care of each other. Watching out. But man, you should try dating out here. Last month, on my vacation, I headed down to Winnipeg. Had two dates with a gal I met online. Word was out before I even got back up here."

Fenn hummed thoughtfully. "Still, must be nice to have that sense of community. Everyone looking out for each other, noticing if something seems off."

Dupuis shrugged again, but there was a hint of unease in his expression now. "I suppose. Though sometimes, people can be a little too nosy for their own good, if you know what I mean."

Fenn met the man's gaze, holding it for a beat longer than necessary. "Oh, I know exactly what you mean," he said, his tone light but his eyes sharp. "I bet most people live way out here for a reason. Mostly, I'm guessing, it's privacy."

"You're right about that." The barkeep scratched his chin, eyeing the rough-looking group at the far table. Then he leaned close. "Fact, you and Kate might watch yourselves."

The back of Fenn's neck prickled, but he made certain no sign of his interest showed. "How so?"

"I wasn't gonna mention it. You and your team look plenty capable of handling yourselves, and then I heard you were heading out today anyway. Figured there was no need. But now that you and the pretty captain are here for a bit, I guess you should know there was a strange fella that came through town a couple days ago. Kept to himself, didn't talk to nobody. But he was asking an awful lot of questions about the airstrip."

Fenn's heart quickened, but he kept his expression neutral. "What kind of questions?"

"Wanted to know about the comings and goings, who used the airstrip. Mostly he seemed interested in your lot."

"Like really interested?"

Dupuis shrugged, but the tightness around his mouth belayed his casual movement. Whatever the stranger wanted, it was enough to catch his attention.

Fenn nodded, his mind already racing. He wanted to press for more details, but now wasn't the time. Show too much interest, and reasonable people clammed up. Dupuis would offer details when he was ready. Fenn's job was to make sure it was sooner rather than later.

For now, he'd retreat. He picked up the cups. "Much appreciated."

Dupuis nodded and got back to polishing the spotless bar.

Fenn was shoving the door open with his hip when Dupuis called out. "Fenn? You and your lady watch your sixes, you hear?"

"Will do." He pivoted out into the blackness. It wasn't much past fourteen hundred hours. He shook his head as if he'd just come up for air. This unrelenting night was disorienting.

But Dupuis's warning had been crystal clear. The man sensed trouble.

His use of military lingo seemed genuine, too. Not the fake, affected way civilians tossed out terms. No. Fenn would bet that the tavern owner was ex-military for sure.

That only made the warning more serious.

If it wasn't clear before, now he knew he had to do his own investigating. Waiting around for Kate to trust him enough to give him the full picture wasn't an option.

Ducking his head against the rising wind, he lifted a prayer as he strode back toward the hangar.

Please, Lord, help me watch over Kate. And please, keep this coffee warm.