Jurassic Heart (23 page)

Mim nodded, and he easily transferred the baby from the car seat to the crook of his elbow. “Oh, he’s too cute.”

“He’s fed and changed,” Mim said. “It’s the best time to get cuddles.”

“My brother has loads of kids. I love it when they’re this age.”

“Is that because they don’t talk back yet?” I asked.

He poked his tongue out at me and tugged me closer by the waistband of my jeans. He had Cayden cradled in his other arm, and I was feeling a bit nauseous at how comfortable he seemed to be with a baby. I tried telling myself he had nieces and nephews—of course he would be good with kids. I couldn’t even convince myself.

“How long have you been dating?” Mim asked, pressing for details like I knew she would.

“It’s all still a bit shiny and new,” I admitted.

“A few weeks,” Hunter added.

“Charlie and I were only together for six months before we got married,” Mim said with a fond smile. “It took us nearly five years to bring Cayden along, though.”

“Yeah, but you were both midcareer when you met,” I said. “It made sense to wait.”

She hummed in agreement. “And how long have you been having sex?”

“What is it with people around here being obsessed with my sex life?” I asked, exasperated.

“Sex is a perfectly normal and healthy bodily function, Nick,” Mim said. I could tell she was trying not to laugh. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I’m not ashamed, I’m annoyed.”

“To answer your question,” Hunter said, interrupting. “A few weeks.”

Mim laughed. “Good,” she said. “Healthy boys like you should be having a lot of sex. I know I’m not.”

“No accidental babies for us!” I said brightly.

She poked me in the ribs. “If you think there’s any chance of accidental babies for women of my age and disposition, then you’re very wrong.”

I hadn’t intended to pull her into a tight hug, but I did, unsurprised when she folded neatly into my arms like she’d always done.

“I’ve missed you not being here,” I admitted. “It doesn’t feel right digging without you.”

“Well, you’re doing a mighty fine job,” she said. “I don’t think you need me anymore.”

“We do,” I insisted. “We really do.”

She laughed again. “It’s always nice to be wanted, Nick, you know that. But look at what you’ve achieved here. It’s good work. Really good work.”

“Thank you.”

“However, it’s time for me to take my baby and get us home,” she said.

“How’s California?”

“It’s cold and it’s damp,” she said with a smirk, taking Cayden back from Hunter and securing him in his car seat.

When she went to pick it up, Hunter beat her to it, easily hoisting the carrier into the crook of his elbow and leading her back to the car. He was such a gentleman like that. Boner met us at the top of the hill and walked with us down to the parking lot, where we exchanged more hugs and promises of visits.

“Not you, though, Mr. Joseph,” Mim said with her tongue firmly in cheek. “I’m happy if you don’t pop up on one of our digs.”

He laughed and shook her hand again. “It’s been a pleasure, Dr. Blume.”

“Likewise. Take care of my boys.”

“I’ll try.”

E
VEN
WITH
the security, even being prepared and expecting something to happen and the whole team being on high alert, it happened again.

We all arrived on-site around the same time, walking up from the parking lot and chatting to one another like we did nearly every day. I wasn’t sure who stopped first—stopped walking, stopped talking—and just stared out over the site.

It looked like kids had done it. I knew that would be the first thing the police said. It looked like the simple, mindless damage we often blamed teenagers for. The paint was bright, lurid colors, splashed over the trees and the ground in big, long swipes. Someone had used spray paint to scrawl obscenities over the trailer. Some of the smaller trees had been pushed over, there was paint in the bushes and in the long grass, and some of the trenches had been pushed in on themselves so the dirt had collapsed on the previous day’s work.

“Police, please,” someone said from behind me, calling it in once again.

All I could do was stand and look out over all the work that we’d done, so carelessly destroyed.

“No, River,” I said, grabbing her wrist as she tried to surge forward.

“But my lab,” she said desperately.

“You have to wait for the cops,” I said. “It’s shit, but we have to play by the rules now.”

“I had experiments running overnight. I don’t know what state they’ll be in.”

I pulled her into a hug, not knowing what else I could do. There was no reassurance I could give if her work couldn’t be replicated. She allowed me to comfort her for a moment, just a moment, and then pulled back.

“Fine,” she said fiercely. “I’m going down to the hardware store and getting what we need to clean this shit up.”

“Okay.”

I wasn’t about to start making noises about crime scenes and preserving them and waiting for the police; she clearly needed to do something positive, and I didn’t blame her one bit. Standing around waiting for help to arrive wasn’t exactly my style either.

Hunter arrived minutes after the police and wrapped his arms around me.

“Oh, Nick,” he sighed, looking out over the site.

I turned my face against his neck and let him comfort me. “Who called you?” I asked.

“Boner,” he said.

I couldn’t hide my surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah. He’s down in the parking lot now, trying to coordinate the cleanup effort. He’s a good guy.”

“He really is.”

Hunter hugged me tightly and then let me go with a strong palm sliding down my back. “What about the Boneraptor?” he murmured.

“Shit!” I exclaimed. “Shit. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

It had gone out of my head entirely. As soon as River had mentioned her lab, my mind had gone there and not to the partially exposed skeleton still so vulnerably situated, half in the ground, half out of it.

“I’m going down there,” I said.

“You can’t, Nick,” Hunter said, grabbing at my wrist. “You sent River away because it’s dangerous. You can’t go running in headfirst.”

I shook my head. “You don’t understand. That’s my whole career in the ground out there, Hunter. Everything I’ve done so far has led me to this point. It’s a new species of raptor. I just can’t….”

He slipped his hand into mine and squeezed. “Okay. I’ll come with you.”

It was as simple as that, apparently. He was coming with me.

As we walked down the hill, the amount of damage that had been done to the site became more and more apparent. Whoever did it hadn’t been working alone, that much was obvious. I hoped the cops would agree.

We picked our way across the site carefully, although there were so many footprints in the mud, I couldn’t see how the police would be able to discern which ones belonged to members of the team and which to the intruders.

When we reached the blue tarp, it looked undisturbed, and allowed myself to hope maybe it was okay. Hunter helped me lift the edge back, and I peered into the trench, then let the tarp fall back into place.

“It’s fine,” I said and ran my hands over my face. “Thank God. It’s okay.”

Hunter pulled me into a rough hug. For a moment, I let myself cling to him.

We couldn’t plan any digging for the rest of the day. As soon as the police were done, we’d have a massive task cleaning it all up and getting ready to work for the rest of the week.

Hunter offered to help, and considering what a state the site was in, I was in no position to refuse. While Boner and I attempted to restore the trenches, the rest of the team worked at cleaning the paint from the trailer and trees.

It was a job Hunter was actually useful for. He knew what chemicals were safe to use on the trees and shrubs, making sure we didn’t do any further damage.

We worked until nightfall and then sent the rest of the team home to get some rest. Boner, Hunter, and I holed up in the freshly scrubbed trailer to compare notes on what had been fixed and what still needed to be done, cataloguing anything irreparable that needed to be replaced.

“I’ve had enough,” I said, pushing back from my chair.

“What can we do, though?” Boner asked. I hated the defeated tone to his voice. The Boner I knew and loved should never sound like that.

“I’m going out there,” I said. “Find me a fucking shotgun, and the next person to wander onto my dig in the middle of the night will get his fucking balls blown off. And you,” I said, turning to Hunter. “Don’t give me any of your peace and love bullshit now.”

He held his hands up. “I wouldn’t dare.”

I didn’t actually find a shotgun, which was probably for the best, because I wouldn’t know how to shoot one anyway. The heat and humidity of the summer were pissing me off as well: it was too hot, too close, too sticky, and I hated it. Boner said it was about to break (he could feel it in his bones), and the weather lady seemed to agree. The three of us—Boner, Hunter, and I—spent an hour covering up as much as we could with tarp and trenches, trying to divine which direction the rain was going to go in.

It was messy, tiring work, and I tried to send them both away when it was done, wanting to adopt a “one man, his dog, and his gun” approach to protecting what I saw as mine. They refused, which was probably why I loved them both, but it annoyed me at the time.

The security company Sam hired had come out earlier in the day to set up security cameras and a minifeed into the trailer. We huddled around one of River’s lab tables and watched grainy images from the perimeter fence.

After an hour, Boner fell asleep, and I threw a blanket over his shoulders. Not that he needed it; the heat was still prickly and sticky and uncomfortable. I mostly paced while Hunter worked at his iPad and let me get on with it.

By one in the morning, I could tell he was tired too, and was about to suggest he sleep some when the first crack of thunder cut through the air. Boner jumped, sitting bolt upright, and the blanket slithered to the floor.

“It’s just thunder,” I said gently.

He nodded and rubbed his eyes. “Have you got any coffee?” he murmured, his voice scratchy with sleep.

“Yeah.”

It gave me something to do, the task of methodically measuring out water and coffee, setting it to brew. Outside, the wind was picking up. It rocked the side of the trailer as the sky continued to light up and split open. I’d been waiting for this for weeks, but did it have to come tonight, of all nights?

While the coffee was brewing, I tried to get my agitation under control. Boner was sleepy and Hunter was working. The last thing they needed was me getting on their nerves by giving off big waves of anxiety.

Apparently, I wasn’t that good at hiding my emotions. Hunter pushed back from the table and came to stand behind me and gently massage my shoulders.

“Calm down,” he murmured into my ear. “Chances are nothing will happen tonight. We might be here for days before they try it again.”

I relaxed against his chest, feeling a tiny bit more secure when he wrapped his arms around me and laid sweet kisses on my neck. I was starting to rely on him for things like this: support, his calming touch… other stuff that I wasn’t ready to admit to myself or him.

Another boom of thunder startled me, and I wriggled out of Hunter’s embrace to make mugs of coffee for each of us. I was still tense, and I doubted that would change anytime soon. Hunter’s reassurance had helped, though.

It was easier to be quiet than to fill the time with conversation. We were all tired, and I was comfortable enough in their company to sit and wait. And wait.

On the TV screen, there was a crackle of static that I attributed to the storm, then another, from a different camera, and I saw them.

“Holy fuck, I’ve got you,” I hissed.

Two figures skulked along the perimeter fence. It was too dark, and the feed too crackly, for me to make out any distinguishing features.

“Call the cops,” Hunter said.

“Fuck that,” I told him. “You call the cops. I’m going out there.”

“Nick—”

“No,” I said firmly. “If you want to stay here, then fine, that’s your decision. But this is my fucking dig, and those are my fucking dinosaurs, and I am not losing that raptor. I’m not.”

He looked at me for a long moment and then nodded, resigned. “I’ll call them, then follow you out, okay?”

Boner was right on my heels when I pulled on my jacket and pocketed one of the flashlights we’d set aside.

“Which way do you want to go?” I asked as we stepped outside into the rain.

“Left,” he said.

I nodded, heading right along the tree line where Nancy had worked for so many months. The branches, swaying in the wind, covered me from view, and I was suddenly aware that Boner was much more exposed going down the other side of the dig. I wanted to call out to him, to tell him to try to stay covered, but that would reveal us both.

The ground was soft from all the rain, and I prayed none of the excavations would be damaged. I wouldn’t know until morning, though, when we could peel back the tarps and see what we were left with.