“Enough that you’d rather be on the open road with your ex?” Hatcher tried to read her face but she kept her eyes averted. “A couple of guys had a minor tussle and you’re ready to leave?”
She finally looked up and shook her head. “Neither of those fights were minor tussles. Both times they wanted blood.” She glanced at Trevor and gave him a knowing look. “I saw enough of it at Simon’s camp. Guys get whacked out on the drugs or…whatever. Those two wanted to kill each other.”
Hatcher nodded slightly and stepped out of the way. “Good luck to you both.” He gripped Trevor’s hand. “I mean it.” He watched as Trevor took Donna’s bag and help her up into the RV. “Remember, the offer to return stands. If you ever want to come back and make this place home, you know how to find us.”
“Channel 14 on the CB, right?”
Hatcher gave him a thumbs up. “You got it.”
He watched as Trevor started the RV and put it into gear. The V-8 revved as he pulled it through the taller grass and up onto the paved street. Hatcher gave a final wave goodbye then turned for the compound.
“Look alive fellas. The sun’s almost down.”
The sentry in the crow’s nest gave him a curt nod and lifted his binoculars. “We got ya covered, boss.”
Hatcher turned and watched the RV crest the small hill, a slight stirring of dust the only sign that it had ever been there. “Godspeed.”
The door to the lab flew open and bounced against the far wall, hard. Dr. Broussard’s head snapped up and he nearly fell from his chair as armed men stormed into the small space. “What’s the meaning of this?”
The Master at Arms entered and glanced around the lab. “Where’s McAlester?”
Andre felt his mouth go dry as he eyed the man, obviously out for blood. “I’m not certain. We’re alternating our time here so the other may rest. He’s probably in my cabin—”
“He’s not.” The large man crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Broussard. “If you’re hiding him, so help me…” He trailed off, leaving his threat hanging in the air.
Broussard shook his head nervously. “I’m not, I assure you.” He suddenly sobered and gave the man a confused look. “The ship is only so big. You’re telling me that you can’t find him?”
The MA glared at him. “He’s not where he’s supposed to be.”
Broussard gave him a dry stare. “Then he obviously jumped overboard.”
“Don’t play with me, doctor.” He stepped closer and scowled. “We will find him.”
“May I ask what you want him for? He’s already told you everything he knows.”
The MA sneered. “We found evidence linking him to the victim. Evidence that he didn’t think to include with his original statements.”
“Evidence?” Broussard raised a brow. “Somehow I doubt you could find your ass without a map and instructions from somebody capable of reading, but let’s assume that you did. What could possibly be so damning that you storm in here with a small army to question a researcher half your size?”
“We’re not here to question. We’re here to arrest.” He leaned closer, his face stone. “For murder.”
Broussard raised a brow and shook his head. “I realize that Dr. McAlester is a bit odd at times, but I assure you, he’s no murderer. You must have misinterpreted your ‘evidence.’”
“I doubt it seriously.” The master at arms sneered. “Our medical officer found…things. Things that tie Dr. McAlester to the victim.”
“I’m certain that he did. The man was found in his cabin.” Broussard crossed his arms, fishing for more information.
The MA backed away slowly. “Contact the bridge if you see your colleague. Otherwise we’ll arrest you for obstruction.”
“I’m already arrested,” Broussard replied flippantly. “I’m not sure how much more arrested I could be.” He gave the man a dour look. “But I’ll let you know if I see him.”
“You do that.”
Broussard watched as the group of men filtered out of the lab and broke into two teams, each going a separate direction. He sat back and rubbed at his eyes, his hands beginning to shake. He couldn’t wrap his mind around Kevin being capable of such a thing. It simply made no sense.
Broussard stood from the workbench and stretched his neck. He glanced around at the work in progress and decided it could wait. He stepped out of the lab and motioned to the lone guard assigned to him. “Come on. We have things to do.”
He turned and worked his way through the ship and to his cabin. He felt a knot form in his stomach when he saw his door standing ajar. He pushed it open and groaned; all of his personal items were scattered, his bed upended and his closet and drawers emptied.
“Isn’t there a less obtrusive way to search something?” He bent and picked up the rolled pair of socks. He stared across the small cabin and shook his head. “What in the world have you gotten yourself into?”
He stood and took in the entire room. “If I were him, where would I go?” He turned and met the guard’s gaze. “Where would you go if you were wanted for murder and trapped on a ship?”
The guard stared back at him stoically.
“You are allowed to speak, you know. There was nothing in your orders that demanded you remain like a statue.”
The guard continued to stare at him, unspeaking.
“Fine. We’ll just go room by room and area by area until we find him.” He looked to the guard and smiled. “It’s liable to get tedious—maybe even messy.”
The guard clenched his jaw and shut his eyes for a brief moment. “If it were me, I’d head to the lower levels. More places to hide.”
“There. That wasn’t so terrible, was it?” Dr. Broussard motioned for the guard to lead the way. “I wonder if Dr. McAlester is aware of
