by Jodie Bailey
Or was he?
Jasmine was clearly thinking as well, because she’d been equally quiet.
The day had been interminably long and now, with only about twenty minutes before they reached Fairbanks, Will wasn’t sure if he could handle the silence any longer. “What’s on your mind?”
Jasmine looked at him, but sunglasses hid her eyes. She had the earpiece of her headset closest to him behind her ear so she could hear both him and the radio. With a sigh, she checked the radio’s settings then lifted the mic from her mouth. “Everything is on my mind. But none of it is what you think it is.”
Everything. Those two syllables encompassed a lot. But if none of it was what he was thinking, then it couldn’t be the false tip or the sabotage. “It’s been a pretty interesting couple of days.”
She nodded once and drew her lower lip between her teeth.
Something was clearly bugging her, and it was a lot more than she was willing to admit. “So what are you biting your lip to keep from saying?”
This time, she smiled and graced him with a short chuckle. “Well, this morning I was quiet because I was focused on the plane. I haven’t flown anything except the Twin Otter in a while. Had to get my small plane brain into place.”
“And now?”
“Look, Will.” She made a quick sweep of the gauges. “Nobody knows me. Literally nobody. When it comes to my family, I might as well be dead, because I can never contact them again. Everyone else knows this manufactured person who doesn’t exist outside of files the government invented. Do you have any idea what that feels like?”
“No.” It had been one thing for him to move from Minnesota to Alaska, where everyone was a stranger. But at least he’d been able to come as himself.
“It’s like being a walking, talking, breathing character out of a novel. I’m an invention. A fabricated creation. It’s surreal, because I’m still me with my thoughts and my memories, but that person doesn’t exist in the real world. I have to be careful about what I say. It’s like my past isn’t real. There are mornings when I wake up and literally don’t know who I am. It really messes with my head.”
Will opened his mouth to try to fix it, but then he stopped. He couldn’t begin to relate to what Jasmine was going through.
She sighed and tipped her head toward the ceiling. “I’ve said way too much to you, more than I should have and more than is safe. It’s so bizarre that, right now, you feel like my only friend.”
As Scout pressed his head into Will’s palm, loving the ear scratch, Will felt his breath grow easier. Sometimes his partner was as much a therapy dog as he was a sniffer. “When you face death together and then get forced to spend the night in the wilderness, it can start you talking.”
“I guess.” There was a tone in her voice that sounded a little bit like hurt.
Will could slap himself in the forehead. She’d been talking about friendship and he’d made it sound like circumstance. She’d laid her heart bare in this cockpit, and he’d managed to deflect her emotion straight into the empty sky.
The same emotion he was feeling. Because the conversation they’d shared and the things he’d felt while talking to her meant way more than he’d ever imagined. He was drawn to her personality and her bravery and her candidness. And while he wasn’t sure what would happen between them once the plane landed in Fairbanks, he knew he couldn’t just walk away and leave her behind. Already, it would be like detaching his arm.
This was definitely weird.
He wanted her to know this was more to him, but there was no way to say it without sounding like an awkward cable TV movie. He scratched Scout under the chin. “So, your past? What’s your family like?”
“Mom’s an investment banker. Dad’s a teacher. My brother is a ranger.” She sniffed, and her grip tightened on the yoke. “I guess all of that’s still true. I don’t even dare do an internet search to see what they’re up to, though the marshals would tell me if anything major happened.”
If only he could show her photos on social media or have Eli do a search to check on them. That was impossible, though. Any sort of digging could lead someone straight to her.
Still, he wished he could do something for the woman who’d forgiven him for assuming she was a criminal and who’d listened to his sad story.
A story that had marked him for years. Had colored every decision he’d made. Had kept him from trusting anyone with the truth.
Until now.
Will straightened in the seat so suddenly that Scout tensed beneath his fingers.
Trust. At some point, he’d stopped suspecting Jasmine was a criminal. Instead, he’d trusted her with the true story of his life. Without hesitation. Without fear of rejection or judgment. Without considering that there might be consequences.
He trusted Jasmine Jefferson.
The realization tilted his world as surely as if she had banked the plane into a hard right.
“What’s wrong?” She leaned forward slightly in the small space. “There are airsick bags in the door pocket.”
Their close proximity meant she’d felt his realization as surely as if he’d reached for her hand. He breathed in and out twice, righting himself. Better to let her think the issue was physical and not emotional. “I’m fine. Just felt a little bit of instability.” Yeah, that was the perfect explanation. “So, what does the rest of your day look like?”
“It’s technically my day off. I don’t fly again for a couple of days.” She banked the plane at the outskirts of Fairbanks. The airfield was probably only five or so minutes away. “You’re welcome to ride along again when I go up since we really didn’t find anything on this outing.”
He needed to go with her for the investigation. But more than that, he wanted to go with her for the company. As she’d expressed earlier, she knew him. It seemed impossible, but she did. “I’ll have a talk with my team, but since this investigation is my primary focus at the moment, I’ll probably take you up on the offer.” He also needed to determine how much protection she might need after being seen with him.
“Sounds like a plan.” Jasmine pulled the headset fully onto both ears and tuned the radio. She identified her aircraft as a Piper, rattled off some numbers, then conducted a brief discussion about winds and approach.
Almost before Will was ready, she’d settled the plane gently to the ground and coasted to a stop by a grounds crewman who guided her to a stop outside the hangar. She removed her headset and ran her fingers through the ends of her hair. “Thank you for flying with Kesuk Aviation, Trooper.” The words held slight humor, and her grin was the most relaxed he’d seen.
“I’ll definitely fly with you again. And I’ll leave a five-star review online.”
Jasmine wrinkled her nose, then motioned for him to open the door, which was on his side of the plane.
As he shoved the door open, a gunshot echoed across the airfield and a bullet cracked into the windshield.
SEVEN
Jasmine shrieked and froze, gaze fixed on the webbed windshield that had nearly shattered at the impact. Her breath caught in her chest. Everything stopped moving and her ears roared.
“Jasmine!” The fierce growl in Will’s voice shook her from her fog. He reached across the narrow plane and pulled her as low as he could in the small space as the sound of another shot ricocheted off metal.
Her head crashed into his chest, and something stung at her hairline. Had she been shot?
The weight of Will’s arm lay heavy across her shoulders, and her body screamed at the unnatural position as they attempted to stay below the windows. “What just happened? Is someone shooting at us?”
As if to answer her question, another shot echoed across the airfield, but there was no answering strike to the plane.
Hand on his pistol at his hip, Will shifted as though he was trying to shield her from the threat outside
. “Looks like. You’re not hurt, are you?”
From where he was secured behind Will’s seat, Scout yapped once, the bark shrill in the enclosed space.
Pulling in a shallow breath, Jasmine tried to make herself as small as possible in the cramped space so that Will could have cover as well. “I think I’m okay.” The answer was relative. While she was still breathing, the pain in her temple screamed she’d been hit by something. Her emotions and fears had definitely taken a direct hit. She was shaking and sweat trickled down her temple, probably mixed with blood.
From outside, shouts passed between buildings on the airfield, but none drew closer to the plane. Likely, everyone had taken cover.
“We’re going to be fine.” Will’s words were low, meant to soothe.
They didn’t. How were they going to be fine? Someone out there, hidden where she couldn’t see them, had aimed at her and fired. This was a repeat of her past, the very thing she’d come to Alaska to avoid.
Jasmine huddled deeper into the seat, but there was nowhere to move. The interior of the plane was too warm. Will’s arm across her shoulders and back was too heavy. She couldn’t breathe. Her temple pounded.
Her very worst nightmare had burst from her brain into the daylight. How often had she awoken at night in a cold sweat from visions of hidden assailants dragging her into the darkness?
She fought to control her breathing. It felt as if everything inside of her wanted to burst through her skin and run. She had to—
Will rested his chin on the top of her head. “It’s okay. I’m here. Scout’s here. I promise we’re going to get out of this. The guy hasn’t fired in a couple of minutes and, if he’s smart, he’s already gone.”
There was no way he could possibly know that everything was going to be fine or if the shooter was still out there, but something about the tone of his words and the warmth of his touch seeped into her screaming mind. Even though it seemed impossible, she believed him.
“Trust me?” He whispered the words against her hair.
Pursing her lips, Jasmine exhaled slowly and nodded.
“Okay.” He pulled away and eased up to look out the spiderwebbed front window.
It took everything Jasmine had inside of her not to jerk him back down again. If someone had a rifle and a scope out there Will was making himself an easy target.
But as quickly as he lifted his head, he leaned over her again. “It sounded like the shot came from the front, possibly from the tree line at the far end of the runway. I’d think anyone willing to shoot at us would be smart enough to get away from the scene before law enforcement can get here. Someone’s bound to have called the—”
Shouts from outside cut him off. Resting his hand on Jasmine’s head again to remind her to stay down, he rose up slightly and peered out the window.
The voices grew louder, calling her name.
Recognizable voices. “That’s Keith and Darrin. My bosses.” Jasmine moved to sit up, but Will stopped her.
“I’m not saying we’re in the clear. Whoever was taking potshots wanted me or you. Just because he’s not firing at anyone right now, that doesn’t mean for certain he’s gone. We need a plan.” He muttered something under his breath, then leaned across Jasmine toward the side window. “State trooper! Get back inside! Now! And stay there!”
The voices outside stopped, then feet thudded away from the plane.
At least they’d obeyed and were out of harm’s way.
“Okay, I’ve changed my mind. We’re not waiting it out in here. There’s not enough room to stay low.” Will pulled away and glanced out the side window. “We’re not that far from the hangar, and I don’t see another plane inside. Can you restart the aircraft and get us inside?”
“Maybe. But no plane likes to be restarted right after shutdown.” She could flood the engine and leave them in even worse shape.
The silence outside was terrifying, worse than a volley of gunshots could ever be. Had the man left? Was he moving into a better position? Were there crosshairs trained on her right now?
Or were they trained on Will?
With her mind focused on desperate prayers for the plane to start and for safety, Jasmine twisted in the seat and tried to keep herself as small as possible in the cramped space. With a flick of switches and a check of gauges, she held her breath.
The engine fired.
Though her muscles threatened to turn her into a puddle on the floor, she released the brake and eased the plane slowly into a turn, rolling toward the hangar as fast as she dared.
Three more shots. Three more thwacks into the plane.
Jasmine gasped and her joints locked. The skin of the plane wasn’t that thick. A bullet could pierce it and hit one of them at any second. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t get them out of this.
It all ended right here.
Will’s hand rested on her wrist, behind where her frozen fingers gripped the yoke. “Jas, you can do this.” His voice was low and calm, his hand warm on her skin. “I know you can do this. It’s just a few more feet.”
This man didn’t have to be here. He didn’t have to lay his life on the line for her. Will could have ditched her yesterday, could have called in a chopper and left her stranded in the wilderness alone the night before.
But he’d stuck by her. And now, for the second time in two days, she held his life in her hands.
This wasn’t all about her. Other lives were at stake. She’d get the plane into the hangar. She’d get both Will and Scout to safety.
Or she’d die trying.
* * *
Will didn’t breathe again until the shadow of the hangar’s interior darkened the sunlight in the cockpit. Jasmine had done it. Despite her terror, she had guided them to safety.
Again.
The same man who’d guided them to a stop earlier ducked out from behind the shelter of the hangar wall and slid the door closed behind them.
Will slumped in his seat. For now, they were safe. But there was no telling how long that would last. He straightened and tried to scan the dimly lit hangar.
Beside him, Jasmine leaned forward and rested her head on the yoke. For a moment, she was so still that Will thought she’d lost consciousness, but then her hair trembled where it covered her face. Her shoulders followed, and the shaking grew exponentially worse than it had been earlier.
Adrenaline crash. Will rested a hand on her back, wishing there was a way to pull her closer in the tiny cockpit, but the danger wasn’t over.
“You guys okay?” a voice called out and the door next to Will popped open. When he turned, the man from the grounds crew stood in the open doorway peering in.
“We’re good. You?” Will kept one hand protectively on Jasmine’s back and one wrapped tight around the grip of the holstered Sig. The man had guided them to a stop and secured the building behind them, but that didn’t mean he was one of the good guys. Right now, anyone who came within a mile of Jasmine was his number one suspect.
“I may need a heart checkup after this, but I’m good.” The crewman noticed Jasmine, and his face crumpled. “Jas get hit?”
“No. Just recovering.”
Her back tensed beneath his fingers as she pulled in a deep breath, then she sat up and leaned across Will. She laid a hand on the older man’s arm. “I’m fine, Brandt. Something grazed my forehead, that’s all. Just shook up.”
“You’re bleeding.” Brandt looked around as if he could conjure up an ambulance and EMTs.
Will whipped his head to look at Jasmine, nearly crashing into her forehead as she sat back in her seat. A tiny rivulet of blood ran from her hairline.
Her hand went to her temple. “Something hit me but... I wasn’t shot, was I?” Her eyes met Will’s and narrowed in confusion and fear.
His mind raced through the moments of the attack and after, and his
hand went to the badge on his chest. “My badge. You hit it on the way down.”
Her lips parted slightly in understanding, and she looked at Brandt. Slowly, a calm seemed to overtake her, almost as though she was more concerned with the other man’s emotions than with her physical well-being. She offered him a slight smile. “I’m fine.”
She wasn’t fine because of anything Will had done. After the suspected sabotage of the plane and the subsequent attempt on his life, he should have been more vigilant, should have had his eyes open. He definitely shouldn’t have been distracted by Jasmine’s talk of friendship and healing and all of those other things he hadn’t realized he craved until she came into his life.
And there he went again, missing the point. “Jasmine, how well do you know Brandt?”
For a split second, the crewman looked insulted, but then his expression softened. He remained silent, waiting for Jasmine to speak.
“He’s been here longer than I have. He’s safe.” Paling, she turned toward Brandt. “Where’s Jerry?”
The mechanic had landed just a few minutes ahead of them. Had he been targeted as well?
“He was in the other hangar when the shooting started. They locked themselves in there. He’s fine.” Brandt pulled away slightly to look at Will. “I called 911 and locked up this place tight, too. Nobody’s getting in. You should be safe now.”
Will eyed Brandt. If the man had plans to kill Jasmine, he’d have done it by now. He had no choice but to trust her opinion of the man and to trust the man himself. Will slowly secured his pistol. With a soft command, he reached back and patted Scout on the head, giving the dog permission to stand down.
Brandt watched with interest.
When Scout relaxed, Will pulled his hand back and focused on the crewman. He had to get out of this plane so he could survey the hanger and have more space to get a good look at Jasmine’s injury. “You’re on a ladder?”
“Yep.”
“Okay, I’m going to step out and help get Jasmine out of here. Do you have a first-aid kit?”