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As Hunter and Wyatt carried the tank outside, my hands shook with anger and fear. Did Neville really do this on his own?
Determined to find out, I shuffled through his paperwork, trying to make sense of Neville's messy handwriting. There had to be something here that would lead me to whoever he was working with.
“Hey, look what I found.” Cody pulled a clunky laptop from beneath a stack of papers.
I'd never seen it before, but my heart raced.Does that have the answers I want?
“That’ll do.” Hunter appeared at my side. “Frogs are free, and we have to go. Now.”
I took one more glance around the messy lab, but as Hunter tried to drag me away, my gaze fell on Neville’s lifeless body.
“Hunter, wait.”
His troubled gaze pierced me.
“Can we . . .? Would it be possible to take Neville’s body with us?”
“Layla! What the fuck?”
“I’m sure his parents would like to bury him properly. It’s the right thing to do.”
Hunter groaned, then waved over Gunn. “Give me a hand.”
Gunn scowled but without argument, he joined Hunter in carrying Neville’s body out of the church.
Cody joined my side, and we followed behind. “I can’t believe Neville did this. He tried to kill us.”
I wrapped my hand over his arm. “I know. I can’t believe it either. But I’m going to make it my mission to find out if he was working with someone.” I met Cody’s gaze. “They can’t get away with this.”
Cody nodded. “Good. I’ll back you up with anything you need.”
As we returned to the helicopter where Booker was fast asleep, Hunter and Wyatt loaded Neville’s body onto the floor of the chopper and covered his face with a cloth that somehow made him look even worse.
Hunter helped Gunn stack the weapons they’d taken from the dead men in the helicopter and we had barely strapped in before Xavier lifted off.
I took one last look at the crumbling church and the bodies around it and wondered if that was the end to the unnecessary deaths.
As miles and miles of vegetation crossed beneath us, taking me from my little section of the jungle that I would never see again, more questions flooded my mind than answers.
Was everything I knew about Neville a lie?
Would Yamania and the Manouthiciara tribe recover from what we did?
And what was I going to do with my life now?
CHAPTER 17
HUNTER
We madea short stop at Aeroporto Internacional de Tabatinga, the remote Brazilian airfield near the Colombian border. Although Charlie was happy to see us, and even happier to see Layla and Cody and all the weapons we’d removed from the corrupted natives, he made it well known that he was pissed about us crashing his bird.
But knowing Hank, he would make sure Charlie was well compensated for the inconvenience.
From that airstrip, we bounced through Bogota, Columbia and then toward home. Layla and I dozed on and off during the journey, but the moment our boots touched down in Yellowstone, the weight of the last few days came down on me like an army tank, and I had no idea how Layla was still stringing sentences together.
“Welcome home,” I said to Layla.
She barely managed to smile. “Thanks.”
