Tailspin (17 page)

I wasn't prepared to see this.

Will grabbed her. Had she been swimming away? He gripped her and tried to convey what he could not say through his gaze. In his eyes she saw understanding and compassion, and that he shared her horror at the situation—but she also saw his conviction that they had to move forward. Their mothers would never get justice if they didn't find the proof inside the plane.

Sylvie had thought she was stronger than this, and though she'd coached Will to breathe through it when they found what they were looking for, he was the steady one.

But they had a reason to be here. And now it was time to get the evidence that would put her stepfather away—the missing piece to tie him to her mother's murder and attempts on Sylvie's life. The pain stabbed at her now like never before.

Could she do this?

Will left her and swam toward the fuselage. He would do it if she couldn't. She followed him. They would do this together. Now they had discovered the plane, they would come back, of course, with an actual dive team and the proper authorities to recover the bodies. Today was just about retrieving one thing.

She was messing with a crime scene, but underwater crime scenes were the most difficult to comb through. If they didn't retrieve the thumb drive now, it would fall into the wrong hands.

The downed craft was eighty feet deep, resting on the precipice of a much deeper sea canyon. Had the plane rocked forward and fallen farther, she and Will would have a much different kind of dive on their hands.

Sylvie wanted—no, needed—to take deep breaths to calm herself, but she couldn't afford that. Decompression sickness was one thing, but a quick glance at her watch told her that they would soon need to head back up. They would likely need to dive again to complete their task.

When they approached the fuselage, Will was the one to swim to the passenger's side of the plane and search. Sylvie had experience, but Will was the one to take charge, and she let him. In fact, she couldn't look. She averted her gaze, looking at the fuselage of the plane, still in one twisted piece, except for jagged edges where the wing had ripped away. What had happened? A small-enough bomb to simply rip off the wing?

Will had wedged himself deeper, searching for the thumb drive. Her mother claimed to have had it on her when she left—the drive the reason she had fled. Sylvie watched intently, aware that the plane might not be stable against the precipice. Was Will paying attention, too? She needed to warn him and swam closer.

From inside the plane he gestured wildly at her.

Will's leg was caught in twisted metal. Caught and bleeding.

EIGHTEEN

W
ill held it in his gloved hands—the thumb drive that had cost his mother's life. That had cost Sylvie's mother's life. The price had been too high. With the pain shooting through his leg that was somehow snagged on a sheet of twisted metal, the price might still climb higher.

If he couldn't get free before his tank ran out of oxygen, Sylvie could buddy breathe with him, but eventually she would run out of air, too. The terrified look in her eyes didn't help. He wouldn't have thought it—she being a master diver. That showed him the true danger of the situation they were in. If he couldn't get free, she would blame herself for this for the rest of her life.

He tugged and pulled on his leg, but the pain only intensified, and nothing he did helped to get him free.

Sylvie cautioned him. She signaled that too much moving could jar the plane from the precipice. Will brandished his knife. He had to live. If not for himself then for Sylvie's sake, and Snake's sake, and for his mother's sake, to make whoever had killed her pay for what they had done.

He glanced at Sylvie. She quickly masked the look of no hope on her face, but he'd seen it all the same. He thrust the thumb drive at her. That was what she needed more than she needed him. She could finish this for both of them. He glanced at the knife, recalling the story of the man who'd cut off his own arm to escape being stuck between boulders.

Could Will do that? When he looked back at Sylvie she shook her head, terror in her eyes. He could bleed out before they could get to the surface. Attract sharks. And they would soon be out of oxygen.

Out of time.

She reached for him. He pushed her away. How did he get her to leave him behind? Would it be too horrific for her if he pulled off his regulator and let himself drown? Then she couldn't save him and would have the time to save herself.

He shoved the images of his father's underwater death from his mind.

God, I don't want to die! Help me have the courage to live!

He didn't want to die like this! Nor did he want to put Sylvie through this. It was too much, far too much, for her to handle, even someone as strong as Sylvie.

Then he remembered. How could he have forgotten?
His mother always carried a crowbar in the plane. He bent and tried to shift, and pain shot through his leg. He pointed to the back, signaling in hopes Sylvie would understand what he needed.

She nodded.

While Sylvie maneuvered into the back of the cockpit, Will kept perfectly still. The last thing he needed was to cause the plane to shift and fall deeper into the ocean, taking them both with it.

Help could not arrive soon enough. Will wondered what was keeping his search and rescue friends. They couldn't know just how at stake Will's life was at the moment.

He steadied his breathing, despite the precarious situation. Even though it was becoming increasingly clear he was about to die.
God, please save Sylvie. Please get her out of here!

Will had been selfish to encourage her to look for—

Sylvie held the duffel bag. His mother's bag of tools and other necessities in case she found herself stuck somewhere. Will took the bag and tried to open it but the zipper caught. Sylvie whipped her knife around and sliced it open. Will pulled out what he'd needed—a crowbar. They needed leverage.

But more than that, Will would have to use his knife and make an incision to free the piercing metal from his leg, before the leverage would work. His vision blurred. He blinked a few times and then made the cut.

The pain was unbearable. He shut his eyes. Stifled a scream. He thought he would pass out. At least the cold seeping in would bring numbing relief.

Dizziness swept through him. He refocused his efforts. Together, he and Sylvie worked to pry him free, but even free, he wasn't sure he could swim to the surface with a bum leg.

His leg shifted, and Will pushed himself away from the craft. Sylvie's concerned eyes beamed. She dragged him farther from the plane, blood quickly coloring the water, faster than before.

Will didn't have time to worry about sharks—another kind of danger drew his attention first. They'd been sidetracked, their attention on freeing him, and hadn't noticed a different kind of predator waiting to take a bite of them. At first he thought it was the help they'd needed, but then he saw the glint of a knife and the hostile eyes.

* * *

She had the thumb drive in her grip—it could be dried out and the data recovered—but all she really cared about was that Will was free. What did the thumb drive matter, what did any of it matter, if Will died down here? Died while trying to help her? Suddenly, finding justice for their mothers didn't seem so important. Though they needed this evidence to be free from those trying to kill them, her priorities quickly shifted with this new urgency. Will's life was on the line.

All that mattered was getting him to the surface.

She signaled that they should head up now, and she would assist him to the surface.

Except the look on his face told her something was terribly wrong—something more than his injury. Will tried to pull Sylvie with him to the far side of the plane. They needed to ascend. He was losing his focus.

Oh, God, please don't let him die
. Will forced her around.

Two divers had approached, and one drew ominously near. Behind the mask Sylvie recognized the eyes.

Ashley?

Diverman floated a few feet away. Was Rifleman, the man from the ferry, manning their boat?

Shock had her gasping for breath. Ashley and Diverman. Of course. They were working for her stepfather. She'd been such an idiot to trust Ashley.

Will urged her to swim away with him, but no way was he going to be able to outswim these two with an injured leg. Ashley reached forward and tried to snag the thumb drive from Sylvie's fingers. She'd forgotten she even held it there. Sylvie yanked her hand out of reach.

Ashley would have to fight for it.

She thrust a knife at Sylvie, who grabbed her wrist and held it tightly. The thumb drive in one hand, and Ashley's wrist in the other, she couldn't grab her diver's knife. In her peripheral vision, she saw Will fighting with Diverman, and holding his own, even with his serious injury, but he wouldn't last long. Sylvie and Will had just enough oxygen left to swim to the surface, cutting their decompression stops short. She needed to end this and now!

When Ashley eased back on the knife to thrust it yet again, Sylvie twisted her wrist back. Ashley reached for Sylvie's regulator hose, but it was too late. She'd dropped her knife and it sank. Ashley and Sylvie locked grips, then, neither able to get free without risk.

She was breathing too hard and fast, using up her oxygen.

Dizziness took hold.
Oh, no! Please, God, help me!

Help Will!

She would never make it to the surface. That was Ashley's plan. Keep her here, hold her down, until she died. In her peripheral vision, she could see that Will was no longer swimming. He floated lifeless in the water. But so did Diverman.

Had he killed for her, like he said he would?

Fury exploded inside Sylvie. Adrenaline surged and she shoved free from Ashley. Swiped at the woman's regulator, her mask, anything to be free so she could save Will. But Diverman roused and swam toward her. She couldn't take them both.

Her heart would split in two if she left Will behind, and yet she had no choices. None whatsoever.

She turned and thrust away from Ashley to make a swim for it. Ashley reached for Sylvie, grabbing her fin and then her leg. She sliced at Ashley with her own knife. Terror filled Sylvie. She couldn't die like this. Then the truth would never come out for any of them.

Ashley ripped the thumb drive from Sylvie's fingers then released her. She and Diverman swam away. Sylvie made for Will. She had to haul him to the surface, take her chances with DCS again. There was no time to worry about stopping. And that was when she saw what had sent Ashley and Diverman away without killing her first.

Divers. More divers were in the water. Obviously they weren't there to help Ashley and her accomplice. The next thing Sylvie knew, one of the divers was with her, sharing his regulator.

Cade Warren, her half brother. Will must have told him about their plan. She'd warned him against that, but now she was grateful.

Other divers surrounded Will and took him away from her. Tears slid down her cheeks and pooled in her mask, but they weren't tears of joy, even though she was grateful the divers had shown up here.

She wouldn't have survived even to get to this point if it hadn't been for Will. He'd saved her too many times, and now he might pay for that with his life. She wasn't sure Will would make it.
Please, God...

He might already be gone.

Moments later Sylvie found herself on another boat. David Warren and Heidi Callahan helped her remove her gear. She pressed into Heidi's shoulder, cognizant of her half sister's growing belly, and sobbed. She'd thought she was so strong that she could take on the world, all by herself. Take on her stepfather, Damon Masters, an international magnate.

She'd been so wrong.

Helicopter rotors drew her attention, and she watched it heading away.

She slumped and leaned away from Heidi. “Will...”

“He's fortunate Isaiah met us here in the SAR helicopter. They'll get him to the hospital.”

Sylvie shook her head, confused. What kind of help had Will requested? He couldn't have known they would need it.

Heidi must have read the question in her eyes. “Isaiah was already in the air, returning from a call-out that didn't require it. He didn't want me to come today since I'm pregnant, but I wasn't going to stay behind. So he did what any overprotective husband would do. He did a flyby.” Heidi flattened her lips. “My point is that could save Will's life.”

He was already dead, wasn't he? Heidi must have seen the doubt in her eyes and gripped her hands. “Believe, Sylvie. You have to believe. Have some faith. We all made it here in time. Before it was too late.”

When Heidi released Sylvie's hands she opened her palms, free from the gloves. “The thumb drive. Ashley took the thumb drive. The whole reason for everything.”

“It's all right. You can tell the police everything. We need to get you to the hospital, too. Looks like you have a nasty cut on your arm. You could need the hyperbaric chamber, too.”

Sylvie hadn't noticed before, but Ashley had caught her with the knife.

“Let's get you below deck.”

“Will and I borrowed a boat from one of his friends.” She glanced over.

“We got it, Sylvie.” Heidi smiled. “This is what we do.”

Sylvie decided to let someone else take control. She trusted her search-and-rescue half siblings. And she had trusted Will.

Still trusted him.
God, please be with him.

Sylvie sat on the cushioned sofa below deck, praying for Will. Letting Heidi offer her hot chocolate and comfort her. But her heart and mind refused to be comforted.

Too late, she realized the letter she'd thought had been from her mother Ashley had generated on her own computer. Made it sound like the words her mother would have said. Ashley must have copied her mother's real letter and twisted it to suit her purpose. Addressed it as though her mother had meant to mail it.

It had been a ruse to send Sylvie back to her search for the plane and to find the thumb drive.

All that so that Ashley could have the thumb drive, and dispose of Sylvie and Will at the same time.

Her stepfather and Ashley were working with Diverman and his accomplice, that much was clear. But why had they initially tried to kill Sylvie when she was searching for the plane, if they had wanted her to find it and the thumb drive?

Sylvie pushed back another tear. She didn't care about any of it. The police could figure all of that out. All she cared about was Will. His warm brown eyes and his thick dark hair. His sense of humor. The sacrifices he'd made for her. He had to live.

Without Sylvie, of course. She had caused him far too much trouble and heartache. She would see that Will was alive and well, and then she would disappear from his life.