Life Flight

by Lynette Eason

  “I have a hard time imagining you hating anyone.”

  “Ha. Well, I did. I was required to meet with her two hours a week, and she chipped and chiseled away at my attitude until all that was left was a hurting little girl who wept in her arms and finally decided to turn her life around.”

  “Are you willing to tell me more about that?”

  “Maybe one day. When there’s more time. But, yeah, it’s also where Julianna, Grace, and I met. We formed a friendship that’s lasted a decade so far.”

  “You’re fortunate to have those friends.”

  “I’m blessed.”

  “Yeah,” he said, reaching to give her fingers a squeeze. His annoyance, anger, or whatever it was he’d been feeling had faded with each word she spoke. “I know what you mean.” His phone buzzed and Rachel’s name flashed on the SUV’s screen. He declined the call, his gut clenching. He needed to find time to call her back, but he didn’t want to talk to her in front of Penny. His family was one subject he didn’t talk much about either. At least not when it came to Zoe. Hypocrite. The annoying accusation rang in his mind. If he wanted Penny to trust him with her past, that meant trusting her with his.

  And that would mean talking about Zoe. The thought made him slightly nauseous.

  Five minutes later, armed with what was left of waffle fries, chicken nuggets, and milk shakes, he pulled into her drive. “The media aren’t here,” he said, surprised. “I expected them to be camped out on your doorstep.”

  “Let’s enjoy it while we can. They’ll figure it out eventually.”

  “Figure out what?”

  “That I bought this house under a different name.”

  “Ah. Smart.”

  She led the way into her construction zone that was slowly turning into a home. Once inside the large Victorian, he spotted the light fixture she’d spent hours agonizing over. “You got the chandelier. Looks great.”

  “Thanks.”

  He shot her a sideways glance. “Let me guess. You hung it yourself.”

  “I did.”

  “And it works?”

  “Ha ha.” She flipped the switch and the multi-bulbed light popped to life. It truly was a spectacular piece. And he wasn’t surprised one bit that it worked. Penny was talented in many areas. “It took me months to save up for that,” she said. “I even took a few extra shifts on the ambulance, but it was worth it.” Penny had trained as a paramedic and a pilot. Pilots had unusual schedules, so she had more leeway than some to serve in more than one area.

  She led him through the foyer into the living room on the left. He’d been to her place only three times, but each time he was there, she’d finished something new. “Looks like you’re in the homestretch now. No pun intended.”

  “Well, this beautiful old girl has brand-new electrical, new plumbing, and a refurbished exterior. And now, aside from painting the dining room, this floor is done. Just have to do the upstairs. I can do the labor like stripping wallpaper, but the other stuff is going to have to wait a bit while I reload the bank account.”

  He took a seat on the oversized sofa and set their food on the coffee table. He fit nicely into the corner and stretched his legs in front of him. She sank into the recliner facing the fireplace. A groan slipped from her and she sighed.

  “You know,” he said, “my dad and I built the house where he and my mom still live. I’d be happy to help you anytime.”

  She propped an eye open. “When you’re not chasing serial killers through massive storms?”

  “Yeah. And when you’re not crashing helicopters on top of mountains.”

  The eye closed. “Too soon, Satterfield. Too soon.”

  “Sorry.”

  “And I didn’t crash, thank you very much.”

  Thank God for that. “You did an amazing thing today, Penny. You should be proud of yourself.”

  Another sigh. “I’m just relieved, to be honest. And thankful. So very thankful.”

  “Me too.” His eyes grew heavy and he glanced at the food. “Are you hungry?”

  “I ate most of mine in the car. Sorry. I was starving.”

  Holt smiled. “I forgive you. You fed me waffle fries, so I’m all right.” He pushed to his feet. “But it’s time for me to go and let you get some rest. Are you going to be all right here by yourself?”

  “Of course.”

  He raised a brow. “‘Of course’ nothing. That was a very scary thing that happened to you on the mountain. You’re probably going to dream about it.” He was probably going to dream about it.

  “Maybe, but I’ll be okay.”

  Still, he hesitated. “Do you want me to stay here with you?”

  For a moment, he thought she might say yes, but she simply shook her head. “I know you want to go back to the hospital to wait for Marty and Gus to come out of surgery.”

  “I do, but I don’t want to leave you if you need me to stay.”

  “Go,” she said. “Check on them. I’ll be fine.”

  Holt gave her a slow nod. “Once I know they’re going to be okay, I’ll go to the hotel for a bit of sleep. Then get back to it first thing in the morning. I’ll check on you too. If you need me, you call me, understand? I’m not that far away.”

  “Sure. Thank you.” She rose too. “Where are you staying?”

  “A couple of miles from here. One of the chain hotels over on Tunnel Road.”

  “Are you going back out to look for Shondra Miller in the morning?”

  “No, I’ll be doing paperwork. Local law enforcement and other agents are doing the boots-on-the-ground stuff right now. If they find anything, I’ll head out to the scene. I’ll check in with you soon.”

  “I’ll be fine. Thank you, Holt. For . . . everything. Including the talk.”

  She followed him to the door and then hugged him. Hard. He returned the embrace, kissed the top of her head, then slipped out the door. He had one more thing to do that he hadn’t mentioned. He was going to have to assume that Mike Bishop’s background check came back clean, since he’d been employed at the hospital, but it wouldn’t hurt to put a bug in security’s ear about the need to keep an eye out for the man. He glanced at his phone.

  And then he’d call his sister.

  CHAPTER

  SEVEN

  Once Holt was gone, Penny shivered in the sudden quiet of her home. She missed him. She wasn’t sure if it was actually him she missed or just the presence of someone—anyone—in the house with her. No, it was definitely him. Which meant she had a lot to think about, but after her mountaintop experience, she wasn’t sure she was okay with being alone. Who could she ask to come stay with her? Raina? Holly?

  Both were still on shift. They always had longer shifts than she did. As a pilot she was limited to twelve hours on, twelve hours off, seven days on, seven days off. Today was day three of her seven days. She would return on Sunday and Monday to finish the shift, then have the next seven days off. Unless she took someone else’s shift. Which she might—assuming one was available. At least she’d be sleeping in the same area with other people. An area where she never had nightmares. She only had those when she was home. Alone.

  Another shiver sent goose bumps pebbling across her arms, and she went to the thermostat and bumped it up a degree.

  Normally she didn’t mind being by herself. Most of the time she relished it—except when she had to sleep—but tonight, her mind kept taking her back to the mountain. To the fight with a killer. To the overwhelming, mind-numbing fear. To the conversation about trust and relationships, her mother and her past. She was physically exhausted, but the emotional fatigue might be the thing that would do her in tonight.

  Penny checked the locks and windows. All of them were new, but she hadn’t had the alarm system she’d already picked out installed yet. She still needed to replace two of the windows upstairs. Then the house could be wired.

  She might take care of that tomorrow.

  For tonight, however, her big comfy couch and cozy blan
ket would be fine.

  Since she’d showered at the hospital and changed into jogging pants and an oversized sweatshirt, all she had to do was crash onto the cushions.

  Once she was stretched out, she grabbed the Sherpa blanket from the back of the sofa and pulled it over herself. She removed the watch from her wrist, thinking about the woman who’d given it to her. Her father’s mother had loved her grandchildren and, when she was around them, made sure to make them feel special. Loved. Penny traced a finger around the face. It was a simple yet elegant watch. Solid gold and rimmed with tiny diamonds, it was the one piece of jewelry she always kept with her. A grown-up security blanket.

  But when her grandmother hadn’t been there . . . the nanny had been responsible for her sister and Penny. The nanny who’d—

  No, don’t think about her.

  Penny sighed and pushed away the familiar ache of missing her grandmother, the memories of the abusive nanny, and plugged her phone into the lamp’s USB port. She sent one text to her mother saying she was fine, at home, and going to sleep, then ignored the rest of the text messages and waiting voice mails. The woman knew Penny was alive and that would have to suffice for tonight. She’d call her tomorrow when she could think. And control her tongue.

  She shut her eyes.

  Only to pop them back open as remembered terror surged. She yanked the blanket over her head and considered the fact that she might need to get a pet in order not to feel so alone. But just thinking about her schedule made her discard the idea. What would she do with a dog while she was working seven straight days and living at the base? Even a cat needed company sometimes.

  Go to sleep, Penny! The order helped. A little. Finally, she relaxed enough to keep her eyes shut. Her current world faded, only to morph into a dark, cold space. Hunger, thirst, and possible monsters pulled the sobs from her. She pounded on the door. “Let me out! Let me out!” The door flew open and Rabor’s face leered down at her. He shook the satellite phone at her. “There’s no one to call anyway, little girl. No one cares that you’re scared.”

  A low creak from the second floor sent her upright, the blanket falling around her waist, the nightmare lingering at the edges of her consciousness. Her heart pounded and she sat frozen, trying to force the images from her mind.

  When nothing else happened, she lay back down and waited for her pulse to slow. A quick glance at the mantel clock showed it was four in the morning. She’d slept a few restless hours and wanted more—just without the nightmares. She closed her eyes, only to pop them open once again when she thought she heard another sound from the upstairs. Penny sat up, pulse pounding once more. What in the world? Stupid house.

  But . . . was it the house?

  Of course it was. She settled back against the cushion and stared at the recently redone ceiling.

  Maybe she should scratch the dog idea and get a gun. Then she wouldn’t jump at every moan and groan the old house made. Then again, she’d probably wind up just shooting herself in the foot—or worse—so the dog idea might be the better route to go. If she could figure out how to make it work.

  So, no dog and no gun. But maybe a taser.

  A low whine reached her, and she flinched. She’d thought she was used to the different sounds the house made by this point, but these were new. Which sent more goose bumps popping out over her skin.

  Should she get up and go investigate or hunker back down and try to ignore them?

  The next soft screech of noise sent her upright once more. A thud that definitely could have been a footfall came from overhead. “Okay,” she whispered. “That was not the house.”

  Penny shoved aside the blanket and snatched her cell phone from the end table. She tapped a text to Holt.

  I think someone’s in my house.

  Then she dialed 911.

  “911. What’s your emergency?”

  “This is Penny Carlton.” She gave her address. “I think someone’s in my house.”

  “Can you get out?”

  “Yes, but . . . ugh . . . I’m not completely sure someone’s really here. I just wanted you on the other end of the line while I go check.”

  “That’s not a good idea. Please leave and an officer will be there shortly.”

  “How shortly?” Penny walked to the base of the stairs and glanced up. Should she or not?

  Definitely not.

  “Five minutes out.”

  She placed her foot on the first step. The phrase “too stupid to live” briefly flickered across her mind. But surely she was just spooked from her run-in with a serial killer and the nightmares that followed. Who wouldn’t be? And how would someone have gotten up on her second floor any—

  Oh, wait. There was scaffolding on the side near what was going to be a guest room. So . . . possibly? Very possibly.

  But the window had plywood over it.

  Plywood that might squeak, creak, and groan if someone removed the nails? Her phone buzzed. A text from Holt.

  On the way. Get out of the house.

  Penny hesitated once more. “There’s no one there,” she whispered. She ignored the 911 operator trying to get her attention and tapped another text to Holt.

  I think I’m just being paranoid. Obviously, today affected me more than I thought.

  Then to the 911 operator, she said, “Never mind. It’s probably nothing.”

  “The unit is about two minutes away.”

  A figure appeared at the top of the stairs and Penny let out a gasp and backpedaled. “There’s someone here! What do you want?”

  He held out a hand and started down. One slow step at a time.

  “How did you get up there? Who are you?” Penny hated the sheer terror vibrating through her words as every murder mystery she’d ever watched or read flicked at warp speed through her mind. He didn’t wear a ski mask but had a ball cap pulled low, disguising his features.

  “Ma’am? Ma’am?” The squawk from the phone echoed around her.

  His footsteps paused.

  “I’m on the phone with 911,” she told him. “Get out of my house!”

  He took one step back up the stairs, his head swiveling toward the front door.

  Penny spun and darted for her kitchen, pulse pounding in her ears. She shoved the phone in her pocket and grabbed the first weapon she came across. A golf club. A putter, but it would hurt if she could connect with something. Sirens reached her and she registered the operator’s tinny voice coming through the phone once more, but could also hear the intruder’s footsteps behind her. He must have decided not to leave the way he came in.

  She whirled and swung the putter, taking satisfaction when it landed on the black-clad figure. He screamed and backtracked a few steps, which allowed Penny to dart toward the door. She twisted the knob and threw it open just in time to see blue lights heading up her drive. She raced out onto the veranda.

  The cruiser pulled to a stop at the top of her circular drive about the same time she spotted a dark SUV turn in behind it.

  Holt.

  She turned to look back into her kitchen through the open door. Empty. Two officers climbed from their vehicle, hands on their weapons.

  “He’s still in there,” she said, hating the breathless quality of her voice. “Unless he went out another door. The guy behind you is a friend and FBI. I texted him, then called 911.”

  “Great. Stay with him.” The taller of the two officers climbed the steps and pulled his gun. “Marcie, check the perimeter.”

  “Got it.” The woman mimicked her partner and palmed her weapon. She went around the corner while the other one—whom Penny dubbed Officer Tall—stepped inside the kitchen.

  Holt joined her on the veranda and gripped her upper arms. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, just . . . yeah. No. Actually, I’m not. There was someone in my house and he was . . . creepy. Super, super creepy and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to sleep again.”

  “Who was it?”

  “No idea. I really thought it wa
s all my imagination working overtime, thanks to all the fun we had on the mountain. And then Mike being so nasty. And nightmares.” So many nightmares. “I heard creaking and noises coming from upstairs and thought it was just the house but decided I should probably check it out. I started to go up the stairs when he just . . . materialized . . . at the top. I ran and he chased me. Thankfully, you and the cops got here quick.” She shuddered and clamped her lips on the rush of words. “I really thought I was overreacting.”

  Holt took the golf club from her. Penny hadn’t realized she was still clutching it. “It’s okay,” he said. “You did the right thing.”

  Officer Tall came around the corner of the porch, his weapon holstered. “I’m Officer Martinez. Looks like he got away.”

  Marcie joined them from the other side and shook her head. “I thought I got a glimpse of him, but by the time I got to where he was, he’d disappeared.”

  “The French doors off your bedroom were open,” Officer Martinez said. “I’m sure that’s how he left.”

  Penny shuddered. “As long as he’s gone.”

  Holt placed a hand on the small of her back and ushered her inside. The officers followed. “You want to look around and see if he disturbed anything upstairs?” Holt asked her.

  “It’s such a mess up there, I probably wouldn’t know, but sure, I’ll look.” She rubbed her tired eyes. “I’m assuming he climbed the scaffolding to the second floor and got in through the window that had the plywood over it.”

  Marcie nodded. “Probably. There’s a piece of plywood on the ground near the scaffolding.”

  Penny led the way up the stairs and Holt stayed close behind her. His presence soothed her battered spirit.

  At the top of the stairs, the cold hit her and she paused. “To the left is the bedroom that had the plywood on the window. To the right are two more bedrooms. All of the floors have been replaced, so it’s safe to walk on them.”

  “Lead on,” Holt said.

  She took them into the bedroom with the newly laid floors, peeling wallpaper, chipped ceiling, and one open window with a sheer white curtain billowing in the breeze.

  “Any idea who could have done this?” Martinez asked.