Page 9 of Deadly Sins

The tavern was almost full, with only a few empty tables far from the action. She settled into her seat, her eyes scanning the room. The chatter of voices and the clink of glasses filled the air. She strained to pick out individual conversations, trying to discern if anyone was paying them undue attention.

But as far as she could tell, except for a few occasional glances, they were just another pair of patrons, seeking refuge from the cold and the darkness outside.

She leaned back in her chair, letting out a long breath. Eight to ten more days stuck in this frozen wasteland, with no leads and no idea who was after her.

She glanced at Fenn, who was studying the menu with a look of intense concentration. She had to confess, she was glad he’d forced the issue and stayed.

Even if he did drive her crazy sometimes.

While they waited for their food, Kate focused on the conversations around them. Fenn seemed to do the same, allowing a companionable silence to grow between them.

What had she done?

The thread of actions—poor choices and even worse decisions—had led to this: sitting in an Arctic Circle bar having dinner alone with Fenn, the one man in their outfit she couldso easily fall for. She’d actually sabotaged their plane. And then she covered it up. Just like she covered up her cowardice in the South China Sea all those years ago.

The verse from 2 Corinthians flashed through her mind.Godly sorrow brings repentance that leads to salvation and leaves no regret, but worldly sorrow brings death.

Just then, Fenn eyed her from across the table, his neutral smile shifting instantly into concern. She froze, fearful of giving him any more indication of her mindset. The man knew her far too well. Letting him stay had been a terrible idea.

He looked about to say something when the waitress appeared with their orders.

Fenn reached across the table for Kate’s hands, bowing his head to say Grace. The gesture touched her, a moment of quiet reverence amidst the chaos of their situation. She closed her eyes, letting his words wash over her, a balm to her frayed nerves.

As they ate, the tavern came alive around them. A sixty-something Inuit couple entered, their weathered faces creased with smiles as they greeted the other patrons. They settled at a table near the fire, their laughter ringing out above the din.

A moment later, a man in his late thirties approached their table, his gait steady despite the heavy boots he wore. “You folks must be the ones with the plane trouble,” he said, his voice friendly. “I’m Jack. Used to be a mechanic with the Royal Canadian Air Force. Stayed up here after my tour ended. Now I drive a snowplow for the roads department.”

Kate and Fenn exchanged a glance, surprised by the man’s forthrightness. But people in small towns were often more forthcoming, she reminded herself. Plus she and Fenn, and practically everyone they knew were abnormally close-mouthed about their lives.

Fenn extended his hand. “I’m Fenn, and this is Kate. You know anything about de Havilland turbos?”

Jack laughed, shaking his head. “Nah, I worked on the four-wheeled stuff. Jeeps. Tractors. Semis. But if you need someone to clear the runway, I’m your man.”

Kate smiled, warmed by the man’s easy manner. “We’ll keep that in mind.”

As Jack wandered off to chat with the Inuit couple, Kate turned her attention back to Fenn. “So, how do you want to approach this? Finding whoever left that note, I mean.”

Fenn took a sip of his soda, his eyes thoughtful. “I think we need to involve the team. Paige’s cyber skills could come in handy for backgrounding suspects. And the others, they’ve got expertise we could use.”

She shook her head, her jaw tightening. There was no way to explain without outing herself. She’d just have to act the diva. “I don’t want to involve them. Whoever left that note is still in the area. It’ll just be a matter of eliminating suspects. We can handle it.”

Fenn sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Kate, I don’t think?—”

“I said no.” Her voice was sharp, her words clipped. “I’m not putting anyone else at risk. Not because of my past.”

He held up his hands, his expression resigned. “All right. It’s your rodeo.”

Anger flared at his words, her temper getting the best of her. “Yeah. It is. And I don’t recall inviting you.” The words were out before she could stop them.

Hurt flashed across his face, quickly masked by a neutral expression.

“I’m sorry.” She reached across the table, her hand hovering over his. “I’m just…I’m tired and stressed. I didn’t mean it.”

He shrugged, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. “No problem. I get it.”

But even as he brushed off her briskness, guilt gnawed at her insides. It was growing, like an infection, spreading through her body and leaving her feverish.

She hadn’t told him the whole truth. Hadn’t told him how the weight of what she’d done, the life she’d destroyed, was eating away at her.

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