Freefall (15 page)

Heart pounding, she tucked the gun into her waistband and crawled along the roof, clawing her way toward the window. The pilot dangled upside down, eyes empty, mouth gaping open. She skirted around him, whimpering with fear. The fuselage shifted, bringing his face closer to hers.

She smothered a shriek and cowered against the ceiling. If she didn’t free herself from the wreckage, she was going to die. She knew it, but she couldn’t move.

“Hope!”

It was Sam. Although he sounded distant, and distressed, his voice was music to her ears. The fact that she could hear him at all encouraged her. He had to be within a few hundred feet. Maybe he was climbing the wall.

A gunshot followed his anguished cry.

She started moving again, spurred by the danger. Glass cut into her skin and tore her clothes as she maneuvered through the broken window. Leather was standing on the cliff about a hundred feet above her, pointing his gun down.

She followed its trajectory to Sam.

He was several pitches below her, his body pressed flat to the rock. Leather’s bullet must not have hit its target, because Sam appeared unharmed. Unfortunately, there were no outcroppings for him to hide behind. He was a sitting duck.

So was she.

Swallowing hard, she studied the wall in front of her. It offered a number of handholds. If the fuselage fell away, she could grab on.

But for how long?

Her anxiety spiked as she looked down. She had no idea what the plane was resting on. The fuselage might break away and take her with it at any moment.

Pulse racing, she reached out to touch the dusty granite with her left hand. When her grip felt solid, she brandished her weapon, braced herself against the rock and waited. The instant Leather leaned over the edge of the cliff to shoot, she squeezed the trigger. His head exploded in a violent red burst.

Hope barely registered the lucky hit, or the fact that his body was tumbling toward her. She wasn’t used to firing one-handed, and the gun’s kick was strong. Her arm jerked back and the fuselage shuddered, falling out from under her.

Seconds later, it exploded against the ground.

Screaming, she dropped her weapon and clung to the wall with both hands. Leather flew by like a giant black crow, narrowly missing her. She heard a sickening
thunk
as his bones and internal organs were obliterated.

Hope shuddered, picturing the same fate for herself.

She couldn’t feel a ledge or any convenient support beneath her feet. The muscles in her arms were already strained, taxed beyond their limits. Trying not to panic, she looked over her shoulder and studied the distance to the ground.

She was doomed.

“Hold on,” Sam called.

“I can’t,” she said, but he couldn’t hear her.

“I’m coming for you!”

The fuselage had been resting on something several feet below her. She wanted to drop down to it, but she didn’t know what was there.

“Stay where you are,” Sam said. “I’m coming.”

Her arms shook, threatening to give out, and her hands felt as if they were bleeding. Maybe they were. The glass had left shallow cuts all over her body. “I can’t hold on,” she said in a hoarse voice.

“There’s nothing under you, Hope. The boulder crumbled down the cliff with the fuselage.”

She pressed her forehead to the rock and wept. She wasn’t ready to die. Faith needed her. But her fingertips were numb, and her strength was sapped.

Sam continued to talk to her in a calm voice. He positioned himself directly under her, and he sounded close. Almost close enough to save her. When her hands unclenched, she cried out for help.

After a nerve-jolting slide, he caught her.

He trapped her between his body and the wall, locking her in a bear hug. Their combined weight sagged against the line, but the gear held tight. Hope dangled there like a rag doll, sobbing hysterically.

“I’ve got you,” he kept saying. “I’ve got you.”

When the feeling returned to her arms, and her hands tingled with sensation, she let him guide her back to the wall. She gripped the rock, blinking the tears from her eyes while he attached her to his harness with extra rope. Using his belay device, he lowered them both down the cliff safely.

The fuselage was still burning, several hundred feet away. Hope wanted to ask about Faith, but she needed a moment to catch her breath.

As soon as Sam removed the gear, she threw her arms around him. She didn’t have any more tears, or any words at all, just gratitude. His shoulders trembled beneath her fingertips. Realizing that he was crying, she reached up to touch the wetness on his face.

A second later, his mouth covered hers. She tasted his fear and desperation. Overwhelmed with emotion, she kissed him back hungrily. His chest was solid against her breasts, his hands strong and his body hard-muscled.

He felt like everything she’d ever wanted, raw and pure and real. The swelling against her abdomen was as life-affirming as the ground beneath her feet.

She couldn’t forget what he’d said before they’d parted, or all the pain he’d caused her in a short period of time. Her interactions with Sam were fraught with conflict. His capacity for hurting her was vast.

But so was his capacity for pleasuring her.

He made her feel—lust, anger, frustration, sadness. He made her feel alive. So she gripped his damp shirt and kissed him harder, drinking him in. Wanting more of his heat and heart and hurt.

His hands roved down her back, cupping her bottom and lifting her against his erection. He seemed frantic, as if he might devour her whole.

She broke the kiss, panting.

When the wildness in his eyes faded, he let her go, raking a hand through his hair. “Jesus,” he said. “I thought you were going to die up there. The fuselage was teetering on a fucking pebble.”

She looked over her shoulder at a boulder the size of an armchair. Hardly a pebble, but small, compared to the plane. “You saved me.”

“You saved both of us,” he countered.

The remains of the man she’d killed were beyond the wreckage. She tore her gaze away. “Where’s Faith?”

His throat worked as he swallowed. “I don’t know. I...ran into Owen on the trail. He said he’d look for her.”

She’d wondered where his climbing gear had come from. As he handed her a bottle of water from his pack, she noticed movement in the distance.

Owen.

He must have witnessed the kiss, because he was just standing there, as if reluctant to interrupt the intimate moment. Hope took a long drink of water and walked toward him, tension humming through her body.

More rangers and sheriff’s deputies were coming down the trail. They were specks in the distance, still half a mile away. “Where’s my sister?” she asked Owen.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his eyes pained. “They took her.”

Her stomach dropped. “Who?”

“The men at the top of Mist Falls. Before I could get there, they hauled her off and left in a helicopter.”

“What happened to Del Norte?” Sam asked.

“He was the one carrying her. At gunpoint.”

Hope collapsed against Sam, distraught. He lowered her to the ground, where she curled up into a tight ball. She couldn’t lose her sister. Faith was her entire world. “No!” she screamed, clenching her hands into fists.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

A
S
SOON
AS
Javier set her down inside the helicopter, his boss hit him over the head with the butt of his gun.

Faith was too terrified to scream. Javier slumped forward, unconscious.

His boss stepped around the body and climbed into the passenger seat. “Nick,” he said, tossing a rope over his shoulder.

The man Javier had beaten to a pulp picked up the rope, tying Javier’s hands and feet. Leaving him on the floor, Nick urged Faith to sit down and took the space next to her. She studied him warily as he reached across her body to secure her safety belt. He smelled like mud and sweat. His chin was scraped raw. Rivulets of blood snaked from his eyebrow down his dirty face. She held her breath until he moved away.

Nick seemed aware of her disgust. Clearing his throat, he lifted the hem of his T-shirt and held it to his brow.

She turned her attention to Javier’s boss. Unlike the unwashed cretin beside her, he was handsome and well dressed, his short black hair cut even more expertly than Javier’s. He wore a flashy platinum watch on his wrist.

If this man had been standing beside “Jay Norton” in a different setting, she might have noticed him first.

Javier’s boss caught her looking and muttered an order in Spanish. Nick didn’t strike her as a native speaker, but he stopped blotting his forehead and leaned toward her. The cut that bisected his eyebrow was still seeping. It needed stitches. When he reached for her gag, she shied away, trying to avoid his bloodstained hands. But she had nowhere to go. He untied the rough cloth and covered her eyes with it, making a tight knot.

She was cast into darkness as the helicopter lifted off.

Javier shifted at her feet, showing signs of regaining consciousness. She didn’t know what to think of him, or how to feel. He was responsible for this predicament. He’d lied to her and put her in danger. But he’d also risked his life to come back for her. He’d fought Nick for her, and begged his boss to leave her behind. If nothing else, the protective streak that had drawn her to him was genuine.

After the helicopter landed, Nick left her side. Javier grunted in pain, as if he’d been kicked awake, and she sensed motion all around her. When everything went quiet, she knew she was alone in the cabin.

Faith had never been a patient person. This wait was the most uncomfortable of her life. She was tired and thirsty. Her arms ached from being wrenched behind her back. Dirt covered her from head to toe.

The mosquito bite on her face itched.

After an interminable, torturous period, someone returned for her. He picked her up and carried her away from the helicopter. She knew it wasn’t Nick, because she detected a hint of expensive cologne.

The man walked down a set of stairs and maneuvered her through a narrow space. By the time he tossed her on a mattress, he was breathing heavily.

She realized he’d just exerted himself, but the sinister sound, paired with squeaking bedsprings and her bound, blindfolded state, sent her into a panic. She screamed for help and tried to roll away from him.

He tugged the cloth from her eyes.

Javier’s boss loomed over her, giving her an intense study. His interest didn’t seem sexual, or particularly aggressive. “Are you hungry?”

She glanced around the room. It looked normal, if colorless. White walls, beige carpet, tan bedspread. There was a small table with a silver food tray and a large bottle of Evian. She swallowed dryly. “I’m thirsty.”

He took a pair of clippers from his pocket to cut the tie at her wrists. Then he poured her a cup of water.

She gulped in great swallows, liquid sloshing down her face and neck. He didn’t react to the unladylike behavior. Although she wanted to kick him in the nuts, she settled for tossing the rest of the water in his face. He wicked away the moisture with aplomb, his left eye twitching. The response didn’t satisfy her, but it was better than nothing. She reached down to tug at the binding around her ankles.

“I need to ask you a few questions.”

“Where’s my sister?”

“I’ll tell you, if you cooperate.”

She just stared at him, waiting. He was a few years older than Javier, darker and more refined-looking.

“I know that your name is Faith. Do you know who I am?”

“Javier’s boss. His friend, at one time.”

“His friend?”

“Until you stole his woman.”

His gaze narrowed. “This woman, is he still involved with her?”

“He told me he was single.”

“A common lie for men.”

Faith agreed that it was.

“Did he say where he was headed?”

She shook her head. “He mentioned that he works in Las Vegas.”

“Did he tell you anything else about Alexia?”

“Who’s Alexia?”

“My wife.”

She remembered Javier saying that the woman had been killed, but she wasn’t going to repeat that to her murderer. “No.”

He put his hands in his pockets, pensive. “The truth is that Javier stole her from me, not the other way around. They’ve been having an affair for years. She disappeared six months ago. I think they were planning to run away together.”

Faith searched his eyes for a hint of deception and found none. Javier hadn’t been honest with her about everything, but she believed what he’d said about Alexia. He wasn’t trying to seduce her—she hadn’t needed cajoling.

One of the men was lying.

“Javier told me he didn’t want her after you’d had her,” she said, pursing her lips. “Sloppy seconds and all that.”

His jaw clenched with anger. Finally a real reaction. He crossed the room, removing the silver tray cover. Beneath it, there was an assortment of fruits and cheeses. Her stomach growled as he removed a red grape from the bunch and popped it into his mouth. “Then I know how to make him lose interest in you, don’t I?”

She glanced away, her pulse racing. The last thing she wanted to do was show fear, but he scared her.

The threat of rape scared her.

When he paused at the edge of the bed, reaching out to touch her face, she forced herself not to flinch. “You’re very beautiful,” he said, brushing his knuckles down her cheek. “Del Norte has always had excellent taste.”

Her body quivered with tension, but she said nothing.

He dropped his hand. “Your sister shot and killed my man on the top of the mountain. She got away.”

Faith’s heart leaped at the news.

Removing the scissors from his pocket, he cut the bonds at her feet. “Make yourself comfortable. Eat, drink, bathe. Rest.”

She rubbed her ankles. “I’d rather rest at home.”

“Javier will be more cooperative if he knows you’re here. As soon as I get the information I need from him, you’re free to go.”

She hoped that was true. “I won’t thank you for the hospitality.”

“It was a pleasure to meet you,” he said, bowing.

“All yours.”

With a dark smile, he turned and walked out.

* * *

I
T
WAS
THE
worst day of Hope’s life.

Moments after Owen broke the bad news, a swarm of officials descended on the scene. Caleb and Ted were transported to the nearest hospital, in stable condition. Crime scene investigators studied the plane wreckage and photographed the corpses. Another team went to Mist Falls to search for clues. Hope wasn’t allowed to go with them.

The physical strain and emotional stress had rendered her almost useless, anyway. She managed the walk to Mineral King, with Sam’s help.

They were interviewed on the trail and again at park headquarters. Hope recounted as many details as she could remember. She’d used deadly force in the line of duty, so she understood the necessity of a thorough report.

The sheriff’s department focused their efforts on identifying the remains, but both bodies were unrecognizable. They also contacted the DEA for information on Javier Del Norte. As soon as they found out which criminal organization he was affiliated with, they could begin a search for Faith.

There was nothing for Hope to do but wait.

By the time she left headquarters, the sun dipped low in the sky, and she was exhausted. She’d been able to shower and change clothes earlier, but she wasn’t looking forward to retiring for the night. The shared housing for park employees made it difficult to keep anything private. Her coworkers would probably try to comfort her or ask questions. She didn’t want to go straight to bed, and she didn’t want to stay awake.

Sam was waiting for her in the parking lot, leaning against a silver sports car. It was one of several expensive vehicles he owned. He pushed away from the door and approached her, his expression inscrutable.

He’d also cleaned up. His casual jeans and polo shirt were well worn, but high quality, an unconscious display of wealth. A few years ago, he’d sold all of his multimillion-dollar companies, so he was set for life.

She didn’t think less of him for choosing not to work, but she wasn’t overly impressed by his financial success. There was a saying about people who were born on third base and claimed to have hit a home run. Although the second part might not apply to Sam, because he wasn’t boastful, he’d come from a place of privilege.

Her passion for him had drowned in a river of fear for her sister. When they were riding high on adrenaline, kissing Sam had seemed like a great idea. At the end of a harrowing afternoon, she felt more like slapping him.

“Have you had dinner?” he asked.

She shook her head. They’d delivered a late lunch to park headquarters, but she hadn’t been able to eat much.

“Can I take you out?”

She glanced down at her old T-shirt and faded jeans. Although their clothes were similar, she was underdressed for a date. More important, she didn’t want to be seen in public. Her sister was missing. She couldn’t handle the curious stares.

“We can get room service at the lodge.”

“You’ll pay for a room, just to have dinner?”

“And to talk.”

The cost didn’t matter to him, of course. Her stomach ached with emptiness, and she welcomed any distraction from Faith’s disappearance. She also enjoyed Sam’s company, despite his flaws. They’d been through an ordeal together. He understood what she was going through better than anyone else.

If he expected to get lucky, he was a fool.

“I’ll meet you there,” she said, climbing behind the wheel of her Jeep. Refusing to ride in his car was a small rebellion. This way, she could walk out on him whenever she wanted, without having to wait for a cab.

At Long Pine Lodge, she parked near Sam’s car and followed him inside. He must have called ahead for the room, because the concierge greeted him with a key card. They took the elevator to a suite on the top floor.

Hope had been to the lodge many times, for parties and work events, but she’d only stayed overnight once, with Doug. The evening must not have been very memorable, because she couldn’t recall any specific details. She glanced around at the sumptuous fabrics and plush furniture, recognizing nothing.

Maybe Doug hadn’t splurged on a suite.

Sam pulled out a chair for her in the dining area. A large window offered a spectacular view of Mount Whitney. She didn’t need a menu to choose her favorite dish: angel hair pasta. He ordered room service, adding an entrée for himself and a dessert.

Hope wasn’t sure she’d have an appetite, but she ate everything, including a slice of wild strawberry pie with ice cream. After the dishes were cleared away, he offered her a drink. She declined, checking her cell phone for news of Faith.

“Any word?”

“No.”

He hadn’t said much during the meal. Neither had she. They’d moved past the point of filling every silence with polite conversation. Actually, they’d skipped that stage altogether, along with a couple of others. But the shared meal resembled a date, and his considerate treatment an attempt at courtship.

Maybe he just felt sorry for her.

“I wanted to apologize for what I said this morning,” he said, clearing his throat. “About you having a choice.”

“I did have a choice.”

“Yes, but...I judged you, without even listening.”

She shrugged, scrolling through her text messages. The last one from Faith said
Love u! Cant wait to see you!

“You aren’t making this easy for me.”

Hope didn’t feel obligated to make anything easy for him, but the man had saved her life. He’d also paid for dinner. The quick intimacy between them had its drawbacks. If this was a real first date, she wouldn’t be checking her messages at the table.

She turned off the screen and set her phone aside, studying his appearance. He’d shaved off the beard stubble, exposing the hard angles of his face. His tanned neck made a dark contrast to the light-colored shirt. He was like a rock in the wind. All of the soft layers had eroded, leaving only the strongest elements.

“Would you give me another chance?”

“At what?”

“Listening.”

Pressure built behind her eyes, and she released a slow breath. He was so stripped-down and appealing, with his scarred past and weathered good looks. Being rich and handsome hadn’t insulated him from heartache. She wasn’t protected, either. Just because she knew better didn’t mean she wouldn’t fall in love with him.

“What do you want to know?” she asked.

“Everything.”

Hope faltered, unsure where to start.

“How did you get pregnant?”

“The usual way,” she said ruefully. “My boyfriend and I weren’t always careful. One night he promised he’d...withdraw.”

“Famous last words.”

“Yes.”

“How old were you?”

“I was a senior. Almost eighteen by my due date. We stayed together for a while, and I thought we could make it work. Get married.” She shook her head at the unpleasant memory. “I was stupid.”

“Why?”

“I had a scholarship that I was willing to give up, but he didn’t want to make any sacrifices. The closer to my due date, the more distant he became. I think...he was scared. It was too much responsibility for him.” In their final argument, Paul had accused her of trying to ruin his life. “I realized that he wasn’t going to support me, and that a baby would put a huge strain on my family. Especially Faith.”