by Dani Pettrey
Rissi nodded.
“He seemed like a friendly guy,” Mason said.
“So you talked with him?”
“He greeted us when we boarded the copter, told us to buckle in . . . That type of thing,” Rissi said.
“Did he appear alert?”
“Yes,” Rissi said.
“Not tired or groggy?”
“No.”
“Did he appear inebriated in any way?”
“No,” Mason said. “He was sober, alert. This was not pilot error.”
“Oh?” Jeremy cocked his head. “And you know this how?”
“Because Max did everything right, and when the copter started losing its pitch, he did everything he could to regain control.”
“So in your words, pilot Maxwell Schaffer lost control of the aircraft?”
“He was unable to regain control of the collective after it stopped controlling the pitch of the rotor blades.”
“And then?” Jeremy asked.
“The engine revved, an alarm went off, and we nose-dived for the sea.”
TWENTY-FIVE
“He sure was a hard-liner,” Rissi said of Jeremy Brandt as they headed for Mason’s Triumph.
“That he was.”
“I liked him.” She shrugged a shoulder. “I mean, he didn’t have the best people skills, but I bet he’s a dogged investigator.”
“That’s what we want on the investigation.”
She looked over at him, the morning sun glinting off the blond highlights in his hair. It was so weird seeing him as an adult. He had darker scruff on his face, his features more defined, and his shoulders far broader. She wondered what he thought of the woman she’d become. Had she changed outwardly in his mind? She definitely had inwardly. She was no longer a scared teen, no longer afraid of men like Hank Willis. She could hold her own.
Mason smiled at her. “What’s got those wheels spinning?”
“Sorry. Was just . . .” She inhaled, refocusing her thoughts. “What does your gut say happened with the copter?”
He rubbed his chin, his thumb running across his adorable chin dimple. She was sure he wouldn’t view anything about himself as adorable, but she sure did.
“I definitely don’t think it was pilot error, like Jeremy was poking around about.”
“Me neither. So where does that leave us? Mechanical malfunction?”
“Either that or . . .”
She narrowed her eyes. “Foul play?”
“It’s a possibility.”
“But why?”
“That’ll be the question if NTSB determines something was tampered with.”
“And if so, who was the intended target?”
Reaching his bike, Mason rested his hand on the seat. “I’m not a big conspiracy theorist, but two separate accidents linked to Dauntless, along with two deaths, in a matter of hours . . .” He shook his head with a whistle. “My gut’s saying there’s more there.”
She exhaled. “Mine too. Guess we’ll have to wait and see what NTSB finds.”
“I’m curious what we’re going to find.”
“So am I.” Both in regards to the case and in regard to each other. It was as if they’d fallen asleep one night as teens and woke the next morning as adults—the time apart only a dream. But the true dream was being with Mason again.
He unlocked the saddlebag and retrieved her helmet.
Thankfully, she’d left her purse locked in that saddlebag or she’d have a lot of work ahead of her replacing everything. For now, it was just her badge, phone, and one credit card that needed to be replaced. She didn’t like not having any money with her while on a case, but as a rule, she left her purse locked up in her trunk, or in this case the saddlebag.
“Did you have your wallet with you on the helicopter?” she asked.
“Yes.” He pulled his folded jeans out of the bag they brought them back in and opened the back zipper. He fished in the pocket and pulled out the camo duct tape wallet she’d made him a decade ago.
Her smile stretched across her face. “You still have that?”
“Of course I do. It was a birthday gift from you.”
He’d not only kept it, but actually used the meager gift she’d made him all those years ago. “I can’t believe it made it through all your plunges into the water.”
He tucked the wallet back in his jean pocket and zipped it up. “It’s been through a lot.”
They’d been through a lot. There was so much she wanted to know about their time apart. What he’d done, seen. So many questions danced through her mind, but for now, they’d have to wait. The team was no doubt anxiously awaiting their return.
“Woolgathering again?” Mason asked at her silence.
She blinked to find a charming smile curled on his lips. “Woolgathering? I haven’t heard that . . .”
“In years,” he said.
“Yeah.” Not since he’d last asked her that.
He offered her the helmet. “You ready?”
“Yep, but how about you let me drive this time?”
“You know how to drive a motorcycle?”
“Yep.”
His smile tugged deeper. “Really?”
“Really. Finn taught me. He’s got a lot of land with dirt trails, which are the perfect place to learn the basics.”
“I didn’t realize he had a bike too.”
“Yeah, he’s been working on it for the last couple weeks, so he’s been driving his car.”
“Cool. I’ll have to see if he wants to go riding. He seems like a good guy.”
“He is. You two will get along well.”
“So he dates the boss’s sister? How did that happen?”
“That’s a long story, but a good one.” She chuckled.
“I’ll look forward to hearing it.”
After Mason gave her a short demo of the Triumph’s workings, Rissi straddled the hunter-green-and-chrome gas tank. She’d driven Finn’s Triumph, but Mason’s was a 1979 classic T140V. It deserved a whole ’nother level of respect. She inhaled and turned the ignition.
Help me do a good job, Lord.
Mason climbed on behind her, settling in.
A different kind of nervousness skittered through her—a very different kind.
Focus, girl.
She started the engine, took a minute to acclimate herself with the bike, and then drove out of the helipad lot. She turned onto the open road stretching before them. Now it was time to release the tension she’d been carrying all night. Now was the time for fun. She lowered her visor and opened the throttle.
Mason laughed as she sped down the road. He started to wrap his arms around her waist but then shifted them to her hips. No doubt he was worried about her bruised rib, but she was fine. His hands cradling her hips were far more dangerous than a bruised rib.
This was going to be a long ride.
“I’m impressed,” Mason said, climbing off the bike. “You did a great job. Finn taught you the mechanics, but you have innate talent.”
“Oh?”
“There’s an art to riding a bike well. Skills are taught. The art isn’t. It’s like riding a horse. Anyone can learn, but only a small fraction can ride with the horse instead of on it.”
She liked that.
The station’s front door opened, and Caleb exited the building. “Ris . . .” He strode toward her, his long legs crossing the distance in short order. “You okay?”
“I’m good.”
His brows furrowed. He wasn’t buying it. “Why didn’t you let the rescue team bring you back to Wilmington General?”
“I wasn’t hurt.”
Caleb looked over his shoulder at Mason, brows arched.
“She has a bruised rib and one cut on her shoulder that needed stitches, but she’s been icing the rib and the stitches look good.”
She glared at Mason. “Seriously? You outed me?”
He shrugged. “I’m not lying to a teammate.”
Caleb dipped his chi
n, his gaze fixing on hers. “You should see the base doctor.”
“Really, I’m fine. Mason sutured my cut. I don’t even feel that sore.”
The muscle in Caleb’s jaw flickered. “Mason sutured your cut?”
“He’s a paramedic.” The words rushed out of her mouth. She didn’t want Caleb to . . . what? Did it bother him that Mason took care of her? That he saw her bare back? She bit her bottom lip.
Caleb rocked back on his heels. “That came in handy.” A mixture of frustration and disappointment lingered in his baritone voice.
She got it. It had bothered her when Maddie flirted with Mason. She had no cause for being upset, but frustration had coursed through her all the same. “I appreciate your concern for me.” She truly did. She cared deeply about Caleb as a friend, and that’s what made the conversation they needed to have all the tougher. One of two topics she needed to cover with him.
Mason held the door open. “You coming?”
“In a minute.” She reached out and touched Caleb’s arm as he gestured her inside. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”
“Sure.” Curiosity danced in his deep brown eyes.
“We’ll just be a few minutes.” She let her gaze linger on Mason an extra moment—silently requesting prayer. The news about Lucas dropping out of school would hurt Caleb, and that’s the last thing she wanted to do.
Mason responded with a slight nod and reassuring gaze before heading into the station.
“So how are you, really?” Caleb asked as soon as the glass door swung shut.
“I’m fine,” she said. At his silence, she added, “Really.”
He dipped his head. “You promise?”
“Promise.” The only thing that wasn’t okay was telling him Lucas had turned his back on Caleb’s generous payment of his tuition and hadn’t even had the decency to let him know.
“I can tell something is wrong,” he said. “What is it?”
She shuffled her feet. A few of the landscape pebbles had spilled over the shrubbery onto the sidewalk. She toed them back over.
“Ris,” he said. “It’s me. Just be straightforward.”
She looked up at him. His set jaw said he was expecting the worst. Her heart cracked for him. They needed to talk about so much more than Lucas, and they both knew it, but in front of the station with everyone waiting and no doubt watching from inside wasn’t the time for that conversation.
“Lucas is working on Dauntless.” There. She said it. She cringed as color rushed Caleb’s face.
“Lucas? No . . .” He laughed. “He’s at Wilmington, in his senior year.”
She slipped her hands into her sweat-pants pockets, so she wouldn’t fidget with them. “That’s what I thought, too, but he was on the rig.”
Caleb’s brows arched. “You talked to him?”
“Yeah.” She kicked the last loose pebble back by the hedges. “We questioned everyone on board.”
His brow furrowed. “Questioned? You questioned Luc?”
“We spoke with the entire crew.”
“What did he say?”
“That he’d made good money over the summer and decided to stay on.”
Caleb’s eyes widened. “What? He never went back?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t even know he was working out there over the summer, and I paid his fall tuition bill.”
“I know. I’m so sorry. Maybe it’s not too far into the semester to get a refund.”
He sighed. “Yeah.”
That wasn’t the point, and they both knew it.
“I’m sorry.” She rested her hand on his arm.
“I just . . .”
“Keep trying. I know.”
He held her gaze a moment, and there was so much more than friendship there.
Logan propped the door open with his foot. “You guys going to join us?”
“Be right there,” Caleb said.
Logan lifted his chin at her. “You doing okay, kiddo?” Dressed in his tailored gray-blue dress pants with a pink button-down shirt and a sharp pair of Edward Greens, he looked every inch the male model. No wonder women fawned over him. And he let it go straight to his head.
Thankfully, Emmy kept him grounded, and the fact that she didn’t fawn over him clearly drove him crazy. Theirs was a dynamic Rissi adored watching. She only prayed Logan would wake up one day and realize he actually loved the girl before it was too late. But he’d have to find his way to God before Emmy was going to let anything happen between them.
“Yeah. I’m fine,” she said.
“We’re all hanging out around the case board.”
She looked up at Caleb. “You cool going in?”
“Sure,” he said, gesturing for her to go first. Disappointment hovered raw in his eyes.
She felt so bad for him. He’d tried so hard with Lucas. With his sister. With his mom. But nothing ever changed. They all returned his love and generosity with ingratitude and even stupider choices.
Logan wrapped Rissi in a one-armed choke hold as she stepped through the doorway. “Glad you’re okay, kid.”
Kid? Him too? She rolled her eyes. “I’m all of nine months younger than you.”
“A lifetime in maturity.” He winked.
“Ah, that must be it, man-child,” she teased. Leave it to Logan to bring levity to the moment.
“Hey,” he said, “I wear that moniker proudly. As my dad always said, ‘getting old is mandatory—growing up is not.’”
She laughed. Logan was a mess. Hilarious and possessing a heart of gold, but a most-definite mess.
Releasing his playful hold on her, he grabbed a phone from his desk—his pristinely ordered desk. She’d never been inside his home—most team hangouts happened on Finn’s extensive property or at Noah’s or his family’s—but she imagined Logan’s home situated much the same way, pristine and pricey. The dude came from money—from some invention his dad patented, along with his mom’s “family money”—and he definitely had an appreciation for the finer things. And yet he drove an antiquated pickup. Go figure.
He gave Rissi the phone with a big smile. “I had to call in a favor to get your replacement phones so quickly, but I figured you’d need them for the case. All the contacts and apps should be the same, but let me know if you have any problems.”
“Thanks, Logan. This is awesome.” And it really was. She avoided dealing with techie things—they made her head hurt—and it was a definite plus having a team member who was a tech genius.
“I’m just glad to see you two weren’t hurt more than you were,” Emmy said. “Had to be scary.”
“Not something I want to experience again,” Mason said, his gaze locking on Rissi. Why did she have the feeling he never wanted her to have to go through that again much more so than him?
“Well, I have to say, I’m digging the matching sweat outfits,” Logan said, moving past Rissi for the case board.
“Yeah. I’m definitely ready to change clothes.” Thankfully she kept an extra outfit or two at the station for occasions such as this. One just never knew in her line of work.
“Why don’t you go change. We can wait,” Noah said.
“It’s okay.” She took a seat cross-legged on the couch. At least the sweats were dry, warm, and comfy. “I’m fine changing after.”
“You’ll have plenty of time,” Noah said.
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“After we debrief, you and Mason are off for the day.”
She narrowed her eyes. “What?”
“Told you she’d freak,” Logan said with a grin.
“I’m not freaking. We just have a lot of work ahead of us, and the sooner we get to it—”
“This isn’t optional,” Noah said. “You’re both off for the day. Go home, get rested up, and you can jump in headfirst tomorrow morning.”
She knew better than to argue. The resolve anchored on her boss’s jaw said he’d made up his mind, and when he did, he was as determined as she was.
TWENTY-SIX
“What did you learn?” Noah asked as they all settled on the U-shaped sofa and chairs facing the large white case board.
Mason sat on Rissi’s left and Caleb on her right. She struggled to keep her focus off them and the undercurrent of emotions flowing between them.
“It appears they had a gas leak in the compressor,” Mason began, tugging her attention back to the case. “Ed has a team tearing it apart to determine what failed. As soon as Joel Waters is discharged from Wilmington General, he’ll do a full inspection and report his findings.”
“I heard from the hospital this morning,” Noah said. “They are hoping to discharge Joel tomorrow.” He stood in front of the case board, writing out the main points Mason had conveyed—the dry erase marker squeaking over the white surface.
“Great,” Rissi said. “So Joel will head out to Dauntless and perform a thorough safety inspection of all the parts and systems to determine—based on the machine and instruments alone—if it was an accident, human error, or foul play.”
“Instruments?” Emmy asked. “As in plural?”
“Yeah.” Mason draped his arm over the back of the couch. “The gas sensor alarm didn’t go off.”
“We’re assuming that’s why Greg Barnes didn’t realize the danger,” Rissi said. “His roommate confirmed that Greg had gone out to smoke on deck.”
“That can’t be smart on an oil rig,” Logan said.
“Seriously,” Rissi agreed. “Hard to believe he was so freaked out about the curse that he needed a smoke to calm his nerves.”
“Curse?” Emmy’s eyes lit. She always loved a good legend, especially one related to the sea. “Is it the same one Tom mentioned at Dockside last night?”
“I think so. Something about a man named Henry whose ship went down, and he apparently cursed the waters around it. The men weren’t keen to even mention it for fear of being cursed themselves.”
“Some of them actually believe Greg’s death was caused by the curse?” Noah asked. If ever there was a no-nonsense guy, it was him. Curses were the last thing a sensible man like Noah would buy into.
“Greg’s death, the copter crash, Peter falling overboard and nearly drowning,” Mason said. “They’ve been dealing with a lot.”
“Definitely sounds like something out of the ordinary is going on out there,” Logan said.