He’d had to improvise as they drove to the Hanstech headquarters. They’d spot him anywhere he parked the car, so he’d pulled off the road and hiked through the woods to this vantage point.

From where he sat, he could watch the comings and goings.

The parking lot had been empty, except for two security vehicles parked in the front, as well as a man—not security—who leaned against a space-gray four-door Mercedes Benz. Carson Banks. Alex remembered him from the “our team” section on the Hanstech website. Together, all three of them entered the facility. Was Carson a threat? Considering Alex was not on the inside of that building with Mackenzie, he certainly hoped not. Or did Mackenzie consider Carson’s presence adequate protection?

Earlier in the evening, while Alex waited on Mackenzie to contact him, he read more information about Hanstech. Everything available to the public, anyway, which included interviews with Mackenzie’s father, recently deceased brother, and very much alive sister.

Additionally, he learned about the headquarters built here in Montana and that Hanson believed the natural setting would increase productivity. But Alex couldn’t help but think that in Montana . . . in a massive secluded building in the woods . . . secretive tests could be conducted in such an isolated place. Like the government conducted in Nevada or New Mexico.

After Gregory Hanson’s death, his brainchild had become his son Rowan’s baby. What had the son done to evoke the threats? Alex was speculating, of course, and he needed facts and evidence. He also needed to protect Mackenzie. And while he was on the outside of that building, he wasn’t protecting Mackenzie or learning what she was learning.

He hopped off his perch, and a text buzzed through from Nathan Campbell.

Deputy Hildebrand is calling in the state pathologist for an autopsy per Nora Hanson’s request. Do you know anything? You were with Mackenzie tonight.

Yep, Alex knew something. That Hildebrand didn’t know when to keep his mouth shut. That news getting to the wrong person could increase the threat. He texted back.

For genetic reasons.

Given the shooter in the woods, Alex suspected this new development regarding an autopsy had caught the detective’s attention.

Time to make his presence known. He left the stump behind and half ran—not easy in the dark—and half hiked back to his car, then drove the rest of the way in and parked next to the Mercedes in the Hanstech parking lot.

No gated entrance blocked his path, and he assumed that was in keeping with the desire to blend in with nature. As if the building hadn’t imposed on the landscape. Clearly the campus designers hadn’t expected any physical threats, and the security guards were in place because that’s what was expected to protect millions of dollars’ worth of property, including the computer servers inside.