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Foster leaned against the far wall, shaking his head as Zain ran his fingers along the shelving units, pressing anything that might be a switch. They’d been searching the office since Mac and Kash had headed to the hanger but hadn’t found any evidence of a hidden compartment, let alone a secret room. Not that Foster was fully focused on the task. In fact, he’d been restless since she’d texted that they were getting airborne.
“Earth to Beckett.”
Foster blinked, snapping his attention to Zain as the man waved his hand in front of him. “What?”
“I said, I thought for sure one of those bookcases would slide open.” Zain tilted his head. “Where were you?”
“Just thinking.”
Zain sighed. “She’ll be okay. Kash is a beast. Maybe more hardcore than the rest of us. He just fakes all that Zen shit better.”
“It’s not Kash. I just…” How did Foster admit he had this churning in his gut without confessing he was head over heels for the girl?
Zain frowned. “You think they’re in trouble?”
“You think who’s in trouble?”
Foster turned toward the door, cursing under his breath at Chase leaning against the frame. “Jesus, buddy. I damn near threw my dad’s ugly ass paper weight at you. It’s an actual rock. I should know. I painted that thing in kindergarten.”
Chase laughed. “I texted you this morning that I’d be back within an hour or so, and I wasn’t exactly quiet. Where is everyone, and who’s in trouble?”
“They got a rescue call. And no one’s in trouble. I’m just on edge.”
“I didn’t get paged.”
Foster crossed his arms. “I can’t imagine why.”
“Shut up.” Chase looked at Zain then padded his way across the room. “You realize you’re gonna have to let her go to work, right?”
“She’s out on a mission, now, isn’t she?”
“And you’re here, working yourself into a lather.”
Foster flipped off his best friend. “That’s because we’re trying to find the damn drugs. And sue me for being concerned because there’s an ex-Green Beret asshole on our tail and a weather system reminiscent of the great flood about to swallow the entire Oregon coast.”
Chase simply shook his head. “All you had to say was that you’re hopelessly in love with her, and we’d get the point.”
“You’re an ass.”
Chase winked. “I know. But that doesn’t make what I said any less true.” He dodged Foster’s attempted slap. “So, we’re down to looking for some kind of secret hideaway? In the bookcase?”
Zain waved him off. “Don’t question, brother. Just look.”
Chase studied them as if he was questioning their sanity before heading for the far wall. He scoured the shelves then went to one knee, poking around the outer piece of molding before something clicked and it swung open. “You guys so owe me.”
Foster peered at the small lever inside. “This is crazy.”
“I think you mean insanely cool.” Chase pulled the lever down. There was a swoosh and an odd grating sound, then the back panel slid open, revealing a compartment behind the shelf. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
Foster removed the contents, picking up one of the bottles of pills as Chase flipped through a series of papers. “Definitely Vexarin. Is that Carrington’s research?”
Chase nodded. “It’s insane, is what it is. Do you know what he spliced together?”
“That’s your wheelhouse, not mine. And I assume it isn’t good.”
“More like deadly. Christ, I can’t believe it ever went to trial.”
“Maybe—”