Life Flight

by Lynette Eason

  Penny looked at Holt and wondered if he was thinking the same thing she was. “I have some thoughts, but I don’t want to accuse anyone without knowing for sure.”

  “Give us the name and we’ll look into it.”

  “Mike Bishop,” Penny said.

  Holt nodded. “He was my first guess.”

  Officer Martinez wrote the name down. “We’ll check—”

  His radio buzzed. “Shots fired.” Dispatch reeled off the address. “All units in the area respond.”

  “That’s only a couple of miles from here,” Martinez told his partner. “Let’s go.” He looked at Holt and Penny as he backed out of the room. “We’ll get on this as soon as possible.” Then they were gone.

  Penny sighed. “I hope no one’s hurt, but my intruder just fell to the bottom of the priority pile.”

  “Yep.”

  “Then I need to go have a few words with Mike Bishop myself.”

  “Hang on, what do you mean by that?”

  Penny’s jaw jutted and Holt’s admiration climbed up a notch. She’d been through absolute purgatory and now she was in fight mode. “I mean,” she said, heading for the stairs, “that after I put that plywood back over my window, I’d like to go get my car. Then I’m going over to Mike Bishop’s and give him a taste of his own medicine.”

  Holt joined her at the bottom of the stairs, where she grabbed her car keys from the entry table near the front door. He caught her arm in a gentle grasp. “That’s a really bad idea, Penny.”

  “Maybe so,” she said, pulling out of his hold, “but if I don’t go, who knows the story he’ll be able to concoct, or the alibi he’ll manage to arrange, before morning?”

  She had a point. He sighed. “Fine, but I’m going with you.”

  “Can’t you get in trouble for that? This isn’t FBI jurisdiction.”

  “I’m not going as an agent. I’m going as your friend.”

  “Then good. I’d appreciate your company.”

  “I’ll drive.”

  “Perfect.” She paused. “I just need one favor.”

  “What’s that?”

  “No, two.”

  “Fine. What are they?”

  “One, can you help me get that plywood back over the window, and two, can you use your connections and get Mike’s address?”

  He barked a short laugh. “Sure. To both.”

  It took him less than five minutes to get the address on Michael Alan Bishop and ten more to get the plywood back in place.

  She climbed into the passenger seat of his car and her smile slipped into a frown. They were on the road and headed for Bishop’s home when she let out a low sigh. “He scared me, Holt, and that infuriates me.”

  Her voice was soft. Hesitant. Almost as though she didn’t want him to hear her. But he did, and his fingers flexed on the wheel. “I know.”

  “I don’t like being afraid. I do everything in my power to avoid being afraid.”

  “And you fly choppers? Sure, that makes total sense.”

  She chuckled. “Choppers don’t scare me. Landings like the one on the mountain do, but nothing like that’s ever happened before.” She shifted to face him. “You train for it, you know what to do should you have to do it, but you never actually expect to have to use the training.”

  “Yeah. There’s a lot of similarities with being in law enforcement.”

  “I’m sure.” She fell silent and he let her. The truth was, he wouldn’t mind a little one-on-one time with Mr. Bishop. Make him see the error of his ways. He’d be professional and keep his cool, but he’d make sure he conveyed to Bishop that he needed to leave Penny alone and that he didn’t want to run into Holt in a dark alley.

  “Why do you do everything to avoid being afraid?” he asked.

  She slid him a sideways glance, then looked down at her hands. “After Mom’s first movie when I was six and my sister was nine, her fame skyrocketed. She was gone so much, Dad needed help, so they hired a nanny. She decided she liked Elise, but she didn’t really care to keep up with me, so she would lock me in the closet, threatening to hurt Elise if I told anyone. My sister believed the lie that I was having play dates with friends. Until one day she figured it out and told my dad. He fired the nanny and found someone else. A good one that time.”

  “What?” The word exploded from his lips before he could stop it.

  She lifted a shoulder in a small shrug. “I was terrified, of course, but I don’t really think about it unless I’m in a small, dark space or have a really stressful day and dream about it.”

  “Penny, I don’t know what to say. That’s awful.”

  “Yeah, it was.” She adjusted her ponytail, then looked at him. “Change of subject. Your turn. What made you choose law enforcement? During all of our chats, you told me about some of your closed cases, the people you work with, the things you enjoy doing, places you’d like to travel to and see, but I don’t think you’ve said why you chose the FBI.”

  His fingers flexed on the wheel. “It’s kind of a long, boring story.”

  “So, bore me. Hit me with all the details. Every last one.”

  Okay, here was his chance. He’d pushed her into being honest about her family. She’d shared one of her greatest fears from her childhood. Now, it was his turn to do the same. Right. “I’ve told you a little about my family.”

  “Very little. Your dad’s in landscaping and your mom is a doctor. You have two sisters. Their names are Rachel and Zoe. Zoe has two daughters, ages twelve and eight. You have a brother named Joseph and he works with a school in some capacity.” She squinted and tilted her head. “Yep, that’s all I know and that’s as vague as you can possibly be. Fill in the details, will you?”

  He gave her a slow nod. “All right. So, like I’ve said before, my parents are awesome. My dad owns his own landscaping business and does pretty well. In the peak season anyway. He’s an outdoors kind of guy—obviously—and always has his hands in the dirt. My mom is a pediatrician with a local doctor’s office. She works the eight-to-five shift every day, then comes home and digs in the dirt with Dad.”

  “Okay, tell me about your siblings.”

  He didn’t mind talking about two out of the three of them. “My brother, Joseph, is a former Army Ranger and now a principal at an inner-city high school in New Orleans.”

  “Well, that’s a calling.”

  “For sure.”

  “Rachel is a forensic artist in Atlanta, Georgia.”

  “Your poor parents. Everyone is all spread out. What about your other sister?”

  He pulled in a fortifying breath. Could he tell her? “She’s an amazing cook and has her own bakery.” One that his parents were running, believing her incarceration was a mistake and she’d be home to take it back over soon.

  His phone buzzed and he didn’t know whether to be relieved or frustrated. “That’s Gerald, my SSA,” he said. “I’ve got to take this.”

  “Sure.”

  He inserted his earpiece, then activated the Bluetooth. “Holt here.”

  “ERT’s gone over the car Rabor and the girlfriend stole.”

  “And?”

  “Looks like she changed clothes once they were on the road. The nurse’s uniform was in the back seat.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Some hair and other fibers, prints, and more. But we know who they are, so I’m not so concerned with all of that. I want to know where Shondra Miller is and I want to know that yesterday.”

  “Me too, Gerald, me too. Thanks for the update.”

  “I’ll let you know if I hear anything else.”

  He hung up and spun the wheel into Bishop’s neighborhood. The closer they got, the more he noticed Penny’s jaw flexing. “I’ll tell you more about Zoe later. You’re sure you want to do this?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Then let me handle this, okay?”

  “What’s to handle? I’m simply going to ask him what he was doing in my house.”

 
He groaned. “Penny, like you told the officers, we don’t know it was him.”

  “Who else would it be?”

  “I don’t know that either. Just bear with me and let me do the talking. Please?”

  She crossed her arms. “Fine, but since this isn’t an official interrogation and you’re not here officially, if I don’t like his answers, I’m jumping in.”

  Holt refrained from smiling, but he must have failed at totally hiding his amusement since she narrowed her eyes at him. “What?”

  “You’re spunky. It’s a good look for you.”

  That pulled a tight smile from her. “It’s a trait I developed out of necessity. And, Holt?”

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t let me do anything stupid.”

  CHAPTER

  EIGHT

  Penny climbed out of the passenger seat as soon as he pulled the SUV to a stop. She sucked in a deep breath and hurried up the sidewalk leading to Mike’s front door.

  It didn’t take long for Holt to catch up with her. She jabbed the doorbell and shoved her hands into the pockets of her sweats. Maybe if she was tempted to hit the man, the act of having to remove her fists before using them would give her some time to reconsider the wisdom of throwing a punch. “I’m not a violent person,” she said.

  “I never thought you were.”

  “But if that was Mike in my house, I’m going to have a hard time turning the other cheek.”

  “No one’s asking you to do that.”

  “I know. I just want him to understand that I’m not afraid of him, and if he plans on harassing me, he needs to rethink those plans because I’ll get the police involved.” He cleared his throat and she shot him a sideways glance. “You’re not the police. Harassment investigations aren’t in your job description as an agent.”

  “It would be in my job description as a boyfriend.”

  “Are you applying?”

  “Maybe. Are you hiring?”

  “Maybe.” She was quite proud of the evenness of her tone and the fact that she was only slightly breathless at the thought of being his girlfriend. But . . . he didn’t know everything about her and might not want to be with her if she unpacked all of her baggage. The thought tightened her throat, and she distracted herself by ringing the bell again and pounding on the door. “Mike!” She looked through the side window. “I can see him on the couch and he’s not moving.”

  “You think he’s asleep?”

  “I don’t see how he’d sleep through all that racket. He could be hurt.”

  Holt stepped around her to take a look. “I think that’s good enough for exigent circumstances.”

  He tried the knob. It turned and he pushed the door open to brush past Penny. For a moment she gaped, then hurried after him. He knelt next to the man and placed two fingers on his neck.

  “Is he alive?” she asked.

  “Yeah. He’s alive. And he’s not hurt. In fact, I’d say he’s probably not feeling much of anything. You smell what I smell?”

  “Booze. Lots of booze.”

  He nodded to the cans littering the floor next to the couch and on the coffee table.

  “He’s completely passed out.”

  Penny placed a hand on Mike’s shoulder and shook him. “Mike, wake up.”

  She got a groan, but that was it.

  Holt stood. “I’m going to see if I can find some coffee and a pot.”

  While Holt worked in the kitchen, Penny slipped down the hall to find a bathroom. The second door on the right opened into a recently remodeled, modern bath that had her a little green with envy—and mentally taking notes for the upstairs bath she still had to renovate.

  Shaking off her bathroom envy, she grabbed a washcloth from the linen closet and soaked it in cold water. When she returned to the den, she slapped the cloth over Mike’s face. He gasped and sputtered but still didn’t open his eyes. She shook him. Then grabbed the cloth and slapped him with it again.

  “Sh-top.” He waved a hand in front of his face. “Stop. What?”

  “Wake up, Mike.”

  Holt walked over and placed a cup of black coffee on the table and Mike blinked up at her. “Penny?” He swiped a hand down his face and grimaced. “Penny? Are you real or am I dreaming?”

  “I’m real. You passed out.”

  “Oh yeah. I got fired.”

  “I’m aware.”

  “Because . . . because . . . why’d he fire me?” He paused and squinted at her. “Oh yeah, because of you.”

  “Actually, you brought that on yourself. But all that aside, were you at my house tonight?” She knew the answer but had to ask.

  “What? No. I . . . um . . . I left the hospital, stopped at the ABC store, came home, and drank myself into a stupor because tomorrow I have to go job hunting.”

  “You threatened me. You said I hadn’t heard the end of you getting fired. What did you mean by that?” She glanced at Holt and noted his attention was solely focused on them.

  “I was mad. And Gerry broke up with me because of everything. She said—” A sob. “She said I was the worst mistake she’d ever made.” Tears spilled over onto his cheeks and Penny sighed.

  She tossed him the washcloth. “Dry up, Mike.” She paused while he got himself together. “You said you weren’t at my house earlier and I’m pretty sure I believe you, but I need you to prove it to me.”

  His frown deepened, although his tears had stopped. “How?”

  “Let me see your arms.”

  “What?”

  “I hit the guy who broke into my house. Take off your shirt, will you?”

  He still blinked up at her, confusion written in his eyes, his poor alcohol-saturated brain unable to keep up. “What—?”

  “She hit the guy who was in her house.” Holt repeated her words, more slowly this time. “Do you mind if we see if you have any bruises?”

  “Oh.” Mike laughed and yanked his long-sleeved T-shirt over his head. Penny ran her gaze over the man’s torso, then rubbed her eyes. “Thanks.” She turned to Holt. “He’s bruiseless.”

  “I noticed.”

  Penny stood and shook her head at Mike. “You might want to take a couple of ibuprofen before you go back to sleep.”

  “Yeah. I’ll do that.”

  “Bye, Mike.”

  He flopped back onto the couch with a groan.

  Penny followed Holt out of the house—locking the door behind her—and climbed into the passenger seat of his SUV once more.

  After they were buckled in and heading back toward her home, she leaned her head against the cold window. She was sore all over and her temples had started a painful throb. She wished she’d snagged two of Mike’s ibuprofens. “If it wasn’t Mike in my house, who could it have been?” she asked.

  “There’s no telling. I’m actually surprised it wasn’t him, but he’s got a pretty solid alibi. He had to have been already passed out during the time you were calling for help.”

  “Right.” A sigh slipped from her. “So, I’m a statistic and it was probably just some random thing.”

  “That’s my guess.”

  She frowned and closed her eyes, uneasy and not sure why. The serial killer was dead, Mike had been all bluster and no action when it came to his threat, and the break-in had probably been some junkie looking for something he could sell.

  So why did she have a really bad feeling in the pit of her stomach?

  Holt followed Penny into her home once more, thinking again how he needed to tell her about Zoe. He’d had the chance to do it and blown it. Now, he’d have to make the chance. “Walk through the house with me.”

  She raised a brow. “Okay, why?”

  “It would just make me feel better.”

  She shrugged and nodded for him to follow her. They’d come in the front door, and he noted the living room to the left. The stairs just past that led up to the second floor, and the kitchen and dining area were to the right.

  “Everything look okay?” he asked.
/>   “Yes.”

  She led him into her bedroom located beyond the living room, and he scanned the feminine, but not frilly, area. He could tell right away this was her haven. Her escape. Sturdy cherry furniture with a light-tan-and-blue comforter on the bed and matching curtains. Her French doors leading out to the patio were shut, but they’d been her intruder’s way of escape.

  No, wait. “Penny?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Your French doors are cracked open.”

  She frowned. “But I shut those before we left to go to Mike’s.” She shot him a wide-eyed look. “I don’t believe this,” she muttered. “He came back?”

  He rubbed his chin. “In all the chaos, you may have shut them but left them unlocked. I have a print kit in my trunk. Let me grab it real quick and see if I can pull some prints. I’ll send them to Martinez and he can have them run if he thinks it’s important. I mean, it can’t hurt, and we need to update him on the fact that we believe the intruder came back.”

  “Sure.”

  Holt hurried out to his vehicle, grabbed the kit from the back, and returned to Penny’s bedroom to find her fastening her watch around her wrist. He went to the door. “It’s going to be a bit messy, but I’ll clean it for you real good when I’m done.”

  “It’s fine.”

  He went to work and could feel her watching him.

  “Well, the timing on this seals it,” she said after a moment. “It definitely wasn’t Mike.”

  “No, he’s a dead end.” Holt nodded to the watch. “I’ve noticed that before. It’s a beautiful piece of jewelry.” And he hadn’t bothered to ask her about it until now. He hid his wince. If he wanted Penny to think seriously about a relationship with him, he needed to step up and do something that let her know without a shadow of a doubt that she was important to him. And what was important to her mattered.

  “My grandmother gave it to me when I graduated flight school,” she said. “She died three months later from pancreatic cancer.”

  He paused in his dusting and looked up. “I’m sorry.”

  “Me too. She was my dad’s mother. She was an amazing woman and I loved her very much.”

  “What did she think about your mother and all the fame?”