by Dani Pettrey
Mason covered his right ear as he held the phone to his left. “Know what?”
“He told you the copter was sabotaged?”
“Yes.”
“Someone sheared the pitch control rod, so when you flew far enough, the collective stopped being able to control the pitch, and you went down.”
“Noah said you got the guy.”
“Yes. Randy Patterson. He’s one of the mechanics for Textra’s copters, and he approved the preflight inspection.”
“Disgruntled employee?”
“No. This is the part your boss said you’d want to know. Randy confessed to doing it but says he did it for the woman he loves.”
Mason’s jaw tightened. “Let me guess . . . Gwyneth Lansing.”
“You got it.”
FORTY-EIGHT
Mason hung up and replaced his headset, staring blindly at the rain pinging off the windshield and snaking sideways in rivulets along the panels closest to them.
“What was that about?” Rissi asked.
He looked at Bob and then to her. “I’ll tell you when we land.”
“I’m head of operations. Anything you tell her, you can tell me,” Bob said.
“I’d like to speak with my partner first.” Partner. He loved the sound of that. And it thrilled him to think of it on another level than just work.
“Very well, but I want a full update when you two are finished talking.”
Mason nodded. “I’ll share what we can.”
Bob exhaled heartily and stared out the window.
Rissi studied Mason a moment. She raised her microphone and slid her headset off one ear and then leaned close, waiting for him to do the same. “You okay?” she asked.
It was clear to Mason that a piece had just been added to the puzzle, but he continued to wonder what exactly he and Rissi were walking into at this heightened state of the investigation. With a second death on Dauntless—even if they had a preliminary cause—and a sabotaged helicopter, they were looking at someone very willing to kill.
Rissi bumped his shoulder with hers. “What’s got you concerned?”
“I like knowing what I’m heading into.” Especially when the woman he loved was at his side. Not that she couldn’t hold her own—far from it, but she was still the woman he loved, and he had an innate longing to protect her.
“Really?” she asked.
He frowned. “You don’t?”
“I kinda like the hunt. Having to deduce what’s going on as it unfolds.”
“So you like the danger of an unknown situation?” She never ceased to surprise him. It’s what would make life with her so exciting. Life with Rissi. He couldn’t imagine a better future. He prayed with everything inside that dream would become their reality.
Rissi exhaled. “Danger is probably the wrong word.”
He shifted, draping his left arm across the back of the seat, to face her better. “What word would you use?”
“Thrill,” she whispered against his ear. “I like the thrill of the hunt.”
As he leaned back against his seat, he couldn’t help but smile. The quiet yet fierce girl he’d known as a teen was fiercer still.
Moments later, the piercing glare of Dauntless’s lights illuminated its vast presence.
“Hold on to your hats,” Maddie said as she lowered the copter toward the helipad. A man in an orange jumpsuit with reflector strips stood below, directing Maddie where to land with two orange sticks that reminded Mason of Star Wars lightsabers. A movie series he’d only gotten to see as an adult. He’d missed so much of a “normal” childhood, but he was catching up.
The man below guided the copter down until it rocked to a full stop on the helipad.
The door opened from the outside as the blades stilled. “Be safe,” Maddie said as Rissi stepped out first.
“Thanks,” Mason said as he followed.
Ed met them at the edge of the helipad with Adam beside him. “I’d say it’s nice seeing you two again, but the circumstances are far from good. Let’s head inside.”
They followed Ed down the metal stairs, into the tower, and then up to his office just off the main control center.
Rissi leaned into Mason. “So what was the phone call all about?”
He looked at Ed and Adam walking ahead of him, and Bob pulling up the rear. “Jeremy Brandt from NTSB called,” he said under his breath. “Turns out Randy Patterson sabotaged the copter at Gwyneth’s request.”
“Why am I not surprised Gwyneth was involved.”
“We can brief Ed, Adam, and Bob. Since it was Textra’s copter, they’re going to know soon enough. But I’d like to start with our questions first.”
“Agreed.”
He glanced back. “You need any help, Bob?”
“Nope.” Bob looked down at the black boot fixed around his fractured leg. “This boot is pretty indestructible.”
“Okay,” Mason said. “Let me know if you change your mind.”
“Thanks.”
Once the five of them were in the office, Ed closed the door.
“Tell us about Lucas and Chase. Go step-by-step,” Mason said, not wasting any time.
Ed sighed. “There’s a lot to tell.”
“Just start with what happened first,” Rissi said, taking a seat. Everyone followed suit.
“Okay . . .” Ed exhaled. “That would be Adam finding the flange bolt in the washer Lucas had just used.”
“How do you know it wasn’t there before Lucas put his load in?” Rissi asked.
“Henry Smith did the load before Lucas,” Ed said. “Henry confirmed there was no clanging sound when his cycle ended. The bolt must have been in a piece of Lucas’s clothing because it was quiet until the last few minutes of the cycle, then it clanged loudly.” He slipped his hat off, clutching it in his oil-stained hands. He looked to Adam, who nodded.
“I was there,” Adam said, “waiting for the machine. I heard when the clanging started. Once the cycle ended, Lucas and I looked to see what was making all the ruckus. Lucas pulled his clothes out, and I looked in with my pocket flashlight. And there it was. That missing bolt for the flange. At least that’s what it looked like. I pulled it out, and Lucas’s face paled. I told Henry, who was still waiting on the dryer, to keep an eye on him while I ran to find Ed.”
Before Adam could continue, the door opened, and Joel Waters stepped in. He looked good for recently being discharged from the hospital.
“Perfect timing,” Ed said.
“Hey, Joel,” Mason greeted him.
He gave a chin lift to him and Rissi.
“What can you tell us about the equipment?” Ed asked.
Joel’s safety glasses hung around his neck. “I inspected both the compressor and gas sensor, and it’s my final determination that the fire occurred when a gas leak on a failed flange gasket was ignited by the flame of Greg Barnes’s lighter. The missing bolt had been located on a two-inch line from the compressor starter exhaust line to the vent system. The gas source was either a leaking valve upstream of the starter or gas migration from the vent system.”
“And the bolt Adam found in the washer?”
“I matched it up. It was the missing bolt.”
“What I don’t get,” Rissi sid, “is if Lucas is guilty, why not pitch the bolt overboard?”
“Maybe someone came in as he was finishing up, so he slipped it in his pocket,” Adam offered.
“Rookie mistake,” Mason sid, “but it does happen.”
Rissi took a stiffening breath. “Where is Lucas now?”
“We have him in his bunk room. Garrett and Jayce are taking turns sitting outside his door.”
With no law enforcement on board, firefighters guarding the kid made the most sense.
“I want him off my platform and in custody,” Bob said. “And Textra will be suing him for the delay in the schedule and the vandalism to our property.”
Of course they would. With Bob it all came down to time and money. Did he even care that three men
who worked for him and his company were dead? “We’re going to need to talk with him first,” Mason said.
“Can’t you talk to him back on land with him behind bars?” Bob said, his face reddening, the small vein along his right temple throbbing purple.
“We know how to do our job, Mr. Stanton,” Rissi said. “So we’re going to need you to give us the space and time to do it.”
Bob sat down with a sigh. “Very well.”
“As I said, we need to talk with Lucas,” Mason said to Ed.
Ed nodded. “Of course.”
“But first we want to know what happened with Chase, and we need to examine his body.”
“Examine his body?” Adam frowned. “He was killed by a stingray. Why on earth would you need to look at his body?”
“It’s protocol,” Rissi said.
“Okay.” Adam held up his hands. “I don’t understand your reasoning, but you gotta do what you gotta do.”
“What happened with Chase?” Rissi asked.
“I can tell you what I know, but I wasn’t one of the men who pulled him up,” Ed said.
“Neither was I,” Adam added.
“We’ll talk to the men who were there, but an overview from you would be helpful.”
“Sure,” Ed said. “Chase went down on an assessment dive to see what work would be needed on one of the risers that’s been giving us trouble. Apparently, topside heard a huge grunt from him over the comm. They asked if he was all right. And when they got no response, they retracted the line, pulling him up. They said when he reached the dive deck, he had white foam around his mouth and a puncture wound near his heart. Karl was called, but it was too late.”
Rissi looked at Mason. “We’re going to need to see the body and talk to Karl.”
FORTY-NINE
Sadly, Mason and Rissi knew the way to the medical bay. Entering, they found Karl, and beyond him lay a body bag on one of the exam tables.
“Why isn’t he in the freezer?” Mason asked.
“It’s been a busy morning.”
“As soon as we examine him, we’ll need to move him to the freezer,” Rissi said.
“Why is it so urgent?” Karl’s brow furrowed.
“Because stingrays insert venom into the victim. To definitively prove it was a stingray that killed Chase, the ME will need a sample of that poison. The longer you leave him out at room temperature, the faster the poison dissipates. Cooling the body slows the dissipation,” Rissi explained.
“That makes sense,” Karl said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“May we?” Mason asked, indicating the body bag.
“Of course.”
“Could you close the door?” Rissi asked.
“No problem.” Karl moved and shut it, then rejoined them.
“Can you tell us what happened?” Mason asked before unzipping the body bag.
“I was in here, bandaging up a cut Jayce had gotten on his hand while sharpening his knife. I was just about finished when the call came through that Chase had been hurt and to bring my bag.” He cleared his throat. “I rushed out onto the diving deck where Chase lay. He had white foam inside his dive mask. We removed it to see if I could perform CPR, but it was clearly too late, and then I saw the wound.”
“What kind of wound?” Rissi asked.
“It looked like a stingray wound to the heart. We removed his tanks, put him in the body bag, and transported him here.”
Mason folded his arms across his chest. “You removed his tanks?”
“Yes.”
“And where did you put them?” Rissi asked.
“I think Adam took care of that. You’ll have to ask him.”
“Did anyone check them before he went down or when he came up?” Mason asked.
“You’d have to look at the maintenance log, to see who had the last rotation, but everyone knows to check their own equipment before going down.”
“Where do they store the equipment?” Rissi asked.
“In the dive room.”
She looked at Mason, and he made a mental note to check that next. They’d need to bag Chase’s tanks and bring them back for Emmy to inspect in Finn’s absence. Man, he’d picked a crazy week to head out of town.
“Let’s take a look at the body,” Mason said, unzipping the bag.
Chase lay pale, still in his regular dive suit, which explained how the stingray barb had punctured it. If he’d been welding rather than assessing what work needed to be done, the thick welding attire would probably have saved his life.
The puncture was centered almost perfectly over his heart. One inch by perhaps another. It was round, but not perfectly cylindrical. “Did you find a barb in the wound?” Mason asked.
“One wasn’t visible,” Karl said.
It could easily be deeper in the wound. Mason looked at Rissi. “We should take photographs. I’d like to open his suit to take a better look at the injury, but we better leave things intact for Hadley.”
“Agreed.” She nodded.
After finishing the preliminary photographs and seeing Chase’s body into the secondary freezer. Mason and Rissi headed for Ed’s office.
They needed to have another chat, and then it was time to talk with Lucas.
FIFTY
Before leaving the medical bay, Mason requested that Karl retrieve Chase’s tanks and a copy of the maintenance log and secure them with the body until they could be taken back to Emmy. Then he radioed the Freedom to let them know he and Rissi would be taking a raft over to talk some more with Gwyneth. But according to her team, she’d returned to land. Taking another trip back to shore so soon after arriving on the Freedom seemed suspicious at best.
Rissi called Emmy to let her know Gwyneth was back on land and to expect the tanks. When she and Mason headed for Ed’s office, they found him, Adam, and Bob Stanton arguing about delays in production.
Bob really was a piece of work. Three men were dead, and all he was concerned about was money.
Ed greeted them as they entered. “How did things go with Chase?” He shook his head. “I can’t believe we lost another one.”
“Things went fine,” Rissi said. “Losing Max, Greg, and Chase in a matter of days has to be . . . staggering.”
“Unfortunately, you work rigs as long as I have, you see loss.”
There was a reason the profession was listed as one of America’s most dangerous jobs. She imagined it was woven in the fabric of the workers’ lives to lose crewmates, but nearly back-to-back like this . . . Apprehension coursed through her. In two of the three deaths, foul play had been confirmed. The question was, how involved was Lucas?
“I know now is not the best time, but we need a few things from you before we speak with Lucas,” she said, her chest tightening. She couldn’t believe she was about to question Caleb’s nephew about a possible murder, or at least negligent manslaughter. It seemed surreal, and never in a million years would she have thought she’d be here. But the old sin nature had a way of hooking in a person’s veins. Lucas probably figured what he did was for a worthy cause—as if that somehow justified it.
“Okay?” Ed said after her prolonged silence.
“Sorry.” Rissi shook her head. “I was just collecting my thoughts. We”—she pointed between herself and Mason—“believe you should fully shut down operations until we sort this out.”
Bob stood. “That’s not an option.”
“Two men have died on this rig in a matter of days, and the remainder of the crew appears to be—”
“I understand,” Ed said, cutting in. “Believe me, I’m responsible for this crew. It’s my job to keep these men safe, and I failed two of them.”
“You can’t control whether or not equipment is sabotaged,” Mason said.
Bob squinted. “You aren’t suggesting that’s what happened with Chase too? He was stung by a stingray. What does that have to do with equipment?”
Clearly the big boss preferred things cut-and-dry. As soon as they could
get the investigation over with, the sooner things went back to normal, though Rissi doubted that would be the case. There was an uneasiness coursing through Dauntless, one she doubted would be instantly restored with their leaving.
“We won’t know until his breathing apparatus is checked,” Mason said, “but it’s possible his mixture was off, and he had a seizure because of it. It might not be what he died from, but we can’t write off such a failure as at least a part of the equation until our crime-scene investigator processes the equipment.”
“So all you have is conjecture,” Bob said, crossing his arms.
“With Chase, yes,” Mason said. “With Greg, no.”
“As I’ve said, you’ve got two dead crewmen,” Rissi reiterated. “Until we figure out the full circumstances surrounding both deaths, we strongly recommend putting a halt to operations.” In a realm where time equaled massive money, Rissi knew it was never going to happen, but she had to advise them all the same. The body count was rising. Not to mention Max, who’d been on a Textra copter sabotaged to go down. A chill raced up her spine. She still wanted to know who the intended target or targets had been.
She looked at Mason as a thought flashed through her mind. Chase had been in the copter rigged to go down, and now he was dead. Maybe they would find something off with his equipment.
Mason shifted his gaze in her direction. An understanding they’d chat when in private passed wordlessly between them.
“I understand your concerns,” Bob said. “And I share them, but we’re even further behind schedule than we were a couple days ago.”
Ed quirked his head, something clearly catching hold of him.
“What is it?” she asked.
Ed rubbed the back of his neck. “Just wondering if the crew of the Freedom, particularly Gwyneth, finally did what they threatened to do.”
Mason looked at Rissi, and she gave a slight nod for him to run with it.
He shifted his attention on Ed. “What did she or they threaten to do?”
“I would have said more your first trip out, but I assumed the explosion was an unfortunate accident.” He took a stiffening breath. “But Gwyneth vowed to destroy our platform from the inside out.”