Danger in the Deep

by Karen Kirst

“We’re doing great on fuel,” he told her when they’d gained the desired altitude. “Nine gallons an hour.”

  She kept her focus on the sky. Suddenly, black liquid sprayed onto the windshield. “What’s that?”

  “Oil.” He studied the instruments, his brows colliding. “The pressure’s fluctuating.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “The seals must’ve failed.” More oil leaked out, obscuring their view.

  Her heart climbed into her throat. “Meaning?”

  “There’s a chance the engine could shut down,” he stated, his demeanor almost too casual. “I’ll locate a place to land.”

  No engine meant an uncontrolled dive to earth, she assumed. She clutched the seat belt where it crossed her body. “How far is the nearest airport?”

  “Too far.” Brady consulted his GPS. “There’s a patch of open land up ahead. Looks like a golf course.”

  She clapped her hand over her mouth.

  “Liv, listen to me. This is going to be an unpleasant landing, but I’ve trained for this.”

  She projected a calm she didn’t feel. “He did this, didn’t he? But how? You checked everything.”

  His nostrils flared. “We’ll figure that out later. Right now I have to concentrate on getting us on the ground without incident.”

  He contacted air traffic control and declared the emergency. They resolved to clear surrounding airspace.

  Olivia watched the precious oil continue to spew onto the window. The plane dipped, and she screamed.

  “That was me. It’s okay.”

  She closed her eyes and began to pray.

  * * *

  Brady explained his intentions to air traffic control.

  “How many souls on board?”

  He glanced over at Olivia, who had a death grip on her seat belt. “Two people on board.”

  The controller alerted local emergency agencies, who’d contact the golf course. Help would be en route, should they require medical attention.

  Sweat slipped beneath his collar and trickled between his shoulder blades. He sorted through various scenarios and how he’d handle each one.

  “Olivia.”

  “Hmm?”

  “I’m going to complete a series of S-turns to bleed off altitude. That means we’re going below the clouds and will encounter turbulence.” He checked the forecast winds for their altitude.

  She licked her lips. “Got it.”

  “Make sure your seat belt is snug and your shoulder harness secure.” He tipped his head toward the second row of seats. “Grab that jacket. Keep it over your face when we touch down.”

  Fury at the man who’d sabotaged their flight simmered in his veins. This plane was in top condition. He wouldn’t have taken anyone up in it, let alone Olivia, if it hadn’t been. Safety protocols had been drilled into him from the day he entered Marine Corps flight school. He didn’t take risks. Period. And thanks to their recent encounters, he’d taken extra time evaluating the systems before takeoff.

  They flew beneath the clouds and almost instantly got hit with turbulence. The aircraft jerked and tipped. Olivia fumbled around for the sick sack. She was clearly unnerved but trying not to make a fuss.

  Brady closed down the part of his mind that was set on revenge. He’d process that later.

  As he executed the S-turns, he was in almost constant contact with the controller. Since wires were nearly impossible to see from above, he searched the ground for poles and buildings. He also checked the golf course flags to gauge the winds. They hit another air pocket. The fuselage rocked and jerked.

  “Have you landed an airplane on a golf course before?” Olivia’s subdued voice came through the headset.

  “This will be a first. Fortunately, there shouldn’t be any golfers out today.”

  “That would be a problem,” she wryly exclaimed, “having to dodge caddies and golf carts.”

  “Brace yourself, Liv. We’ll be on the ground in another five minutes. Exit the plane as soon as we come to a standstill.”

  Her tumultuous gaze locked onto his. The ground was rushing closer and closer. Strong winds gusted up and over the plane’s body and whipped at the wings, threatening to topple the craft sideways. Their approach was far from desirable.

  Just when he thought it might prove a smooth landing, the engine cut out. He didn’t inform Olivia. Instead, he prayed for mercy.

  With no oil supply, there was no point to attempt an engine restart. He turned off the fuel selector, along with the electrical and ignition switches, and unlatched the doors.

  “Brady.” She spoke his name like a warning, as if he could control their direction.

  Wind pushed them too close to the trees. “Cover your face,” he barked. “Hold on!”

  Please, God, keep her safe.

  The next second, their left wing slammed into a tree. The force spun them the opposite direction. The world outside the windows blurred. The screech of ripping metal pierced his eardrums. Another tree stopped their motion with a jarring halt. The smell of leaking gasoline filled the plane. Through it all, Olivia didn’t make a sound.

  TWENTY

  “Olivia?” He reached for the jacket obscuring her head.

  He removed it and found her slumped over, her eyes closed.

  “Liv, honey, wake up.”

  The stench of gasoline permeated the fuselage. They had to get out before fire erupted.

  He gently jostled her shoulder. “Liv? Can you hear me?”

  She moaned. Her eyelids fluttered.

  He searched for visible injuries and checked her pulse.

  “We didn’t land in the treetops, did we?” she murmured, lifting her hand and probing her forehead.

  “We’re on solid ground. Come on, let’s get out of here.” He tried to convey urgency without alarming her. If a fire broke out, they’d have minutes to escape.

  Olivia’s door wouldn’t budge. “The tree’s wedged it closed.” She tried again, applying force with her shoulder and leaning her whole body into it. She thumped it with her fist. “Useless.”

  Brady’s opened, but there wasn’t enough space for either of them to fit through.

  Sirens announced the approach of welcome assistance. But how long until they reached them?

  Her dark eyes assessed him. “What now?”

  He wrapped the jacket around his arm and, climbing into the back seat, began beating at the plexiglass window. After several repeated blows, Olivia joined him. She lifted her cast.

  “Let me try.”

  “And risk reinjuring your arm?”

  “I smell the gasoline, Brady. And I see the worry in your eyes.”

  Taking the jacket and wrapping it around her cast, she nudged him aside and started hammering at a spot by the window seal. That area was weakened by damage and, after multiple repeated blows, began to give way. Brady told her to rest. He flipped his body and used his feet to kick out the window. He scrambled through the opening, slid down and assisted her to safety.

  By the time he and Olivia managed to get free of the accident site, EMTs were on the scene. After he and Olivia were assessed, they waited off to the side as officials discussed the best plan of action.

  Olivia folded her hand into his. “It’s a total loss, isn’t it?”

  He dragged his gaze from the wreckage. A halo of fine tendrils had escaped her braid, and dirt smudged her cheek. “It can be replaced.”

  Her forehead puckered, and a protest formed on her lips.

  “We’re safe.” Cupping her cheek, he gently thumbed the dirt from her skin. “That’s the only thing that matters.”

  “Thanks to your skills and quick thinking.” She captured his hand, brought it to her mouth and brushed her lips over his knuckles.

  A shock wave shuddered through him. When she press
ed his hand to her cheek, her molten brown eyes full of gratitude and something akin to longing, his knees went weak. Logic had no role in this equation. If there weren’t witnesses around, he’d pull her into his arms and kiss her soundly.

  But they weren’t alone. Although it was for the best, he couldn’t help but regret the others’ presence.

  A law enforcement officer drove them to a rental car company, where Brady secured a sedan. They’d been able to recover most of Olivia’s belongings from the wreckage. They stored everything in the car’s trunk and sought out a secluded booth in a hotel restaurant. The lunch rush had already passed, granting them privacy. One couple conversed over salads at the bar, and a family of four occupied one of the booths by the bank of windows. The lone server took their orders and returned to the kitchen.

  Across the table, Olivia toyed with her straw, stabbing at the lemon and jostling the ice cubes. “What now?”

  “That’s up to you.” Brady had been against her plan to go off on her own. If anything, today’s accident reinforced his stance. “We can drive to Charleston or return to Jacksonville. Or we can rent a couple of rooms and sleep on it. Decide what to do in the morning.”

  Her mouth was an unhappy line. “We don’t know for sure whether or not my attacker is responsible for what happened.”

  “I’ve been reviewing everything I did during preflight. Nothing stood out to me. The only thing I can think of that could’ve caused the oil loss is a blocked crankshaft breather tube.” At her blank look, he explained. “The tube is meant to rid the engine of water vapor and any liquid water. If there’s blockage, the engine pressurizes and causes the seals to fail. The oil leaks out and the engine shuts down.”

  “The engine didn’t shut down, though.”

  He lowered his gaze and rubbed at the condensation on his glass. She slapped the table with her palm.

  “Are you serious? We lost engine power during flight, and you didn’t tell me?”

  “It happened upon approach. Late in the game. It didn’t make sense to upset you.”

  She flopped against the booth and shook her head. “Upset me any more than I already was? Not possible.”

  “You did great, Liv. You held it together like a seasoned flier.” His phone rang. “It’s Detective Shaw.”

  They’d spoken to him during the ride to the rental company.

  Brady set it to speaker so Olivia could listen in. “One of the airport employees, Trent Sanders, didn’t report for work last week. His boss assumed he’d quit without notice. When Officer Whaley went out to his apartment to interview him, he discovered his door ajar. Mr. Sanders’s body was in the kitchen. Killed with a bullet between his eyes.”

  Olivia gasped. “That’s horrible.”

  “He worked in the office and had access to the light aircraft,” Shaw continued. “He’s supposed to have a pair of airport uniforms. We’ve only been able to locate one. Our theory is our guy followed Sanders home, killed him, and used his uniform and ID card to access the hangar.”

  “Only a handful of people were aware of our travel plans,” Brady said.

  “You took Olivia on a flight recently, did you not?”

  He’d flown her to the beach for a day, an outing he’d enjoyed far more than he should’ve, given the circumstances. “Yes.”

  “He probably assumed you’d take her up again eventually. It was his plan B.”

  Their food arrived. When the server was out of earshot, he said, “I assume you’re going over the security footage?”

  “I’m driving to the airport now to do just that.”

  Olivia snorted. “He’s been a pro at avoiding them so far.”

  “He’s familiar with the aquarium,” Shaw pointed out. “This feels like a spur-of-the-moment decision. He’s growing weary of the game. Let’s hope that means he’s not as meticulous as he usually is.”

  After they disconnected, they ate their food without much enthusiasm.

  She picked up another fry and let it dangle from her fingertips. “If our assumption that he’s prior military is right, then he must’ve worked around planes.”

  He wiped his mouth with his napkin. “That tube is in a hard-to-reach area. A blockage can easily be overlooked. I replaced the old one last year with the kind with a slit already in place in case of buildup. He would’ve had to insert the obstruction above the slit to have the desired effect.” He texted Shaw. “The aquarium vet was a sniper. Let’s see if he also worked around planes.”

  “You still suspect Zach?”

  “I’ll put it this way—I have no reason to clear him just yet.”

  When their bill had been paid, they made their way through the lobby. Brady’s phone rang again. He took Olivia’s hand and tugged her into an alcove made private with artificial plants and overstuffed chairs.

  Shaw was on video chat this time. There was no denying his mood had improved.

  “We have an image.”

  Olivia clapped her hands together.

  “It’s not perfect,” he cautioned. “A ball cap obscured most of his face, but we can see his height and build.”

  “That’s a start,” Brady said.

  “Olivia, I’d like for you to return to Jacksonville and study this image. There may be some detail about him that’s significant to you.”

  She squared her shoulders. “All right.”

  “Good. You guys be careful on the roads. They’re calling for a decrease in temperatures throughout the day and possible ice overnight.”

  Brady didn’t try to mask his relief. “We should be there by supper time. See you soon.”

  She arched a brow. “I could’ve looked at the image on my phone.”

  “Shaw wants you on hand to help with any breaks in the case. What if he needs you to pick someone out of a lineup?”

  “You don’t have to look so pleased, you know.”

  “Admit it, Liv. You’re happy.”

  “And why would that be?”

  “Because.” He grinned at her. “You would’ve missed me too much.”

  * * *

  Considering the day she’d had, Olivia wanted nothing more than to hide beneath her bedcovers. The airplane scare had been followed by a long drive up the coast. At the police station, they’d studied the grainy surveillance photo in vain. The image had offered scant clues. Afterward, instead of going straight to Brady’s, they’d had to divert to the aquarium. Ruth had called and insisted Olivia sign documents absolving the aquarium of any wrongdoing.

  “I didn’t think I’d be back here so soon.”

  The contrast between the freezing air outside and the aquarium’s balmy interior was enough to stop her in her tracks. Olivia paused inside the main entrance and soaked in the familiar sights and sounds. Thanks to the worsening weather conditions, most of the guests had left. Only half an hour remained of the business day, anyway.

  Brady trailed his fingers down the middle of her back. “This will all blow over eventually, and you will reclaim your good memories.”

  “This is my second home, yet a stranger’s vendetta could force me to walk away forever. I wish I’d been able to identify the man in the video footage.”

  “We know more than we did before. Caucasian male in his twenties or thirties. Medium build.”

  “But no identifying markers.”

  “They’re still processing the airport employee’s apartment and interviewing neighbors.”

  “I pray they get this guy before anyone else gets hurt.”

  The director greeted them and motioned to the chairs in front of her desk. “I’m sorry to call you in on a day like this, but the powers that be want to cover their bases.” Her laugh had a nervous trill to it.

  “I’ve already indicated I won’t sue the aquarium.”

  “They don’t want any nasty surprises later on.” Pushing the p
apers across the desk, she nudged the pen holder.

  Olivia noticed a sheen of perspiration on Ruth’s face. She looked flushed, as well.

  “Ruth, are you feeling all right?”

  She touched the locket necklace around her throat. “A-As a matter of fact, I suspect I’m coming down with something.” She stared at the leaden skies visible through the windows. “I’d planned on staying overnight in case of a power outage. The last time we had an ice storm, we lost power for twelve hours.”

  Brady had opted to remain standing by the door. “What happens to the animals in that scenario?”

  “We have backup generators that will keep their systems running.”

  Olivia twisted in her chair. “It’s common practice to keep a small number of employees on-site during uncertain weather events. Someone has to handle feedings and other issues that may arise.”

  “It’s early in the season for snow, let alone ice.”

  “We’ve had mild winters in recent years,” Ruth interjected. “We’re overdue.”

  Olivia read the statement peppered with legal jargon and signed her name. She dropped the pen into the holder and stood. “There, that should make them happy.”

  Ruth put her name down as a witness. She braced her hands on the table and pushed to her feet. “Your absence has been felt throughout the aquarium, Olivia.” Taking a tissue from its box, she patted her forehead dry.

  “Ruth, you should go home. Or better yet, a clinic. You don’t look well.”

  Her professional, unruffled demeanor slipped, and for a split second, she looked as if she might break down in tears. Her gaze fell to her desk, however, and she stiffened her spine. “I’ll think on it. Be careful getting home.”

  Brady’s expression bordered on suspicious. Nearing the escalator, he said, “Something’s off. She seemed more anxious than unwell.”

  “I haven’t ever seen her like that,” she agreed.

  As they descended the escalator, she spotted Maya near the sturgeon petting area.

  The younger woman didn’t notice them at first. Her shoulders hunched, she dashed tears from her cheeks and wiped her palms over her pants.