by Diane Capri
Dan was smaller than Skip, but somehow he managed to lift him and get his head and shoulders out of the plane’s door. Josh reached in to pull Skip the rest of the way out.
Josh tried to set Skip gently onto the raft’s floor, but he couldn’t manage it. The sinking plane, the choppy lake, the bouncing raft, the sharp, cold wind, and Skip’s heavy body combined to defeat Josh’s efforts. Skip fell hard into the raft and landed oddly and screamed.
The rope tied around Skip’s waist pulled Josh into the icy lake. He went under the surface briefly, feeling the cold grip on his lungs, before the rope pulled him back up. He clambered aboard the raft and fell on top of Skip.
The other end of the rope, tied to Dan’s waist, pulled taut, cutting painfully into Josh’s stomach. He yelled, “Dan! Come on!”
Dan waited at the Cessna’s doorway as if he didn’t understand or couldn’t bring himself to move toward the lake. Josh was already cold and shivering. He pulled on the rope in an effort to tug Dan forward. But Dan put his hands on either side of the doorway and resisted, vigorously shaking his head.
“Dan. Buddy. You’ve got to jump in. We have to get to shore.” Dan’s eyes were the size of saucers and he shook his head even more rapidly. Dan had always been afraid of the water. His lips were already blue and his whole body shook. Whether from cold or terror, Josh couldn’t say.
Josh found an oar inside the raft and paddled to keep as close to the door as he could while floundering in the rough, cold lake. But if Dan didn’t get into the raft, he’d pull them all down as the plane sank.
Josh stopped paddling, reached around, and grabbed the rope connecting him to Dan and yanked as hard as possible from his seated position. By a miracle or adrenaline or something else, he pulled Dan out of the plane and into the water. Dan began to kick reflexively toward the raft. He knew how to swim, he was simply petrified.
Josh pulled Dan into the raft and released the anchor rope. The raft began to drift. Josh handed Dan the second paddle and pointed toward the shore. They paddled in sloppy unison against the strong wind, and the raft began to move slowly in the right direction as the Cessna dropped lower into the water.
Somehow, by the grace of God, they made it to shore. Josh’s muscles were screaming with fatigue and tension. His body shook with cold. Dan jumped out of the raft at the water’s edge and Josh followed.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Houston, Texas
Monday
Veronica Beaumont lived about ten miles and ten million dollars from Flint’s neighborhood. He drove the familiar streets easily and stayed within the speed limit. His blood alcohol level was well within legal limits, but he didn’t need the hassle of dealing with the local cops tonight.
He reached Beaumont’s gated community in less than fifteen minutes. At the guard station, he gave his name and was waved through, although the security cameras at the station recorded his entry.
Six minutes later, he pulled into Beaumont’s driveway, parked, and walked up to ring the doorbell. He stood on the porch, hands stuffed into the front pockets of his jeans.
She’d been waiting. She opened the door only slightly and peered out, as if she was worried about who might be standing there. She was dressed in the same expensive, fashion-model-casual style she had sported at the ice cream shop. Full makeup and five-inch heels.
Flint lived in a mostly male world, but none of the women he knew spent evenings at home alone dressed like Beaumont. Maybe she had a live-in lover or something.
“Can I come in?” Flint asked, hoping she’d say no and save him a lot of trouble.
She opened the door, waved him inside, and closed the door behind him. “We can talk in here,” she said as she led the way to a private study. The house was as expensively furnished and spacious as he had expected. She didn’t offer him any refreshments of any kind. Whether she didn’t approve of him or simply wanted him to get to the point, he didn’t know and didn’t care. Whatever her reasons, the arrangement suited him fine.
He sat down. She wasn’t going to rush him through this and she should know that right off the bat. “I’ve looked at everything you gave me on Josh Hallman and his plane crash. I’ve also done a little digging on my own. The guy has been totally off the grid for six-plus years since that plane went down. There’s no reason to believe that he is still alive. I’ve checked government records, private investigation files, even witness protection because I have contacts in that arena. No dice. Not one mention. In six years.”
“If Josh could have been found by a record search, I wouldn’t need you.” Veronica remained standing, like she wasn’t going to get comfortable. “I was told you had additional skills.”
“I do.” Flint nodded. “But before I deploy those skills, I insist that my clients tell me everything they know. And you are holding back on me, Ms. Beaumont.”
“Why would I do that? I’ve already told you what the stakes are here. Why wouldn’t I want to do everything possible to save my child?”
“Good question. I think you’re worried about something you know.” He leaned forward, forearms on his thighs. “Why do you think Josh Hallman is still alive? There is absolutely nothing I can find to support that idea.”
“I already answered that question.”
“Let me put it this way, Ms. Beaumont.” He leaned back in his seat. “You can tell me why you think Hallman survived that plane crash when his two passengers did not. Or get yourself another guy. I won’t put my team in harm’s way for you without knowing what we’re getting into.”
She looked at him steadily for a while before she turned and walked to a drink cart in the corner and poured herself a glass of vodka. Straight. No ice. “Anything for you?”
“Single malt if you have it.”
She poured his Scotch and carried both glasses back. She handed one to him and sipped her own. Still, she did not sit. She paced the room awhile. Flint waited. He could wait for her to work out whatever her problem was. But he wouldn’t wait forever.
He finished his Scotch and set the glass on a table. He stood. “I’m sorry. I will not be able to help you, Ms. Beaumont. I’m not in the habit of disappointing my niece and I don’t appreciate that you’ve put me in this position. Don’t call me again.”
He turned to leave. He’d walked all the way to the front entrance and his hand was on the doorknob before she called him back. For more than half a second, he considered leaving anyway. He turned and stood in the foyer. He wasn’t walking back in there. She could damn well walk to him this time.
Her voice was low. “After the plane crash, a man came to see me. I was living somewhere else at the time, somewhere with less security.” She held the vodka glass with both hands. “He knocked on my door without warning. When I opened it, he pushed his way in.” She drained the glass. “He had a gun. He was looking for Josh. He said he knew Josh had survived.”
“What else did he say?”
“Can we sit down again? I don’t want Jamie to overhear.” Before he answered, she turned and walked back into the study. He followed her and closed the door. She poured herself another drink and offered the bottle to him. He shook his head.
“What else did he say?” Flint repeated his question because she seemed to be ignoring it.
She took a big swallow of the booze. “He said he would find Josh. He said if Josh contacted me, he would know.” She drained the glass and refilled it again.
Flint cocked his head. She seemed genuinely scared. “What else?”
“He said he knew Josh was Jamie’s dad. No one knows that, Flint. Not even Josh or Jamie. I’ve never revealed Jamie’s father to a living soul before you. I don’t know how he found out, but he had resources of some kind.” Her hands were shaking now. “He told me never to tell anyone that he’d been here.”
Flint watched and said nothing.
“Look, I’m a businesswoman and a single mom. That’s it. I don’t travel in those kinds of circles. No one has ever threatened me like tha
t before. This guy was absolutely terrifying.” She sat in a chair across from Flint and took a deep breath. “The message I got was pretty clear: if I told anyone about him, he’d come back and—do something to Jamie.”
Flint nodded. He could see she was still frightened, after all this time. Maybe the guy threatened her back then and maybe he could have followed through. But whether he was dangerous or not, Veronica Beaumont had clearly believed him. It seemed she still did.
“I never told anybody about him before.” She drained her glass again. Her speech was slurred. He wondered how much she’d had to drink before he arrived. She’d have a hell of a hangover tomorrow. “I wouldn’t be telling you now except I’m desperate to do whatever I can for my boy. I know you don’t have kids, but surely you can understand that.”
“I do, actually,” Flint nodded. “But I can’t do this job for you if I don’t know everything you know. Describe this guy for me.”
“He was about your size, I guess. A little heavier. A little older.” She closed her eyes as if she was attempting to visualize him clearly. “Medium height and medium build. Brown hair, brown eyes. He didn’t have an accent, but I had the impression that he was Hispanic.”
“You mean Mexican? We have plenty of Mexican Americans around here.”
“To be honest, I was so terrified of his gun and everything about him that I didn’t spend a lot of time trying to memorize what he looked like.”
“Was he alone?”
“I was so shaken . . .” Her voice trailed off and she seemed to think about the question for a bit. “But now that you ask, I think there was someone else in the car with him. Another man. I heard him say, ‘Let’s go,’ as he approached the car when he left.”
Flint nodded again to encourage her. He’d questioned hundreds of witnesses. They had usually observed more than they realized. If he kept asking specific questions, he could learn the rest. “What was he wearing?”
She closed her eyes again. “He was well dressed. Casual khaki slacks, a pressed shirt, a leather blazer. He wore expensive shoes.” She opened her eyes and grimaced. “I always notice the shoes. His were fine leather loafers with leather soles. No socks.”
She’d described half the men at any country club in the world. “How old was he?”
She thought about it. “Maybe midforties? Not old. But not a young punk, either.”
“What can you tell me about the gun?”
“Not much. I’m not that familiar with guns.”
“Was it a handgun or a long gun?”
“A handgun.”
He pulled his Glock from his waistband and showed it to her. “Did it look like this?”
She shook her head.
“Was it bigger or smaller?”
“Bigger. At least, it seemed bigger to me at the time.”
“Okay. Good.” He nodded and returned the gun to his belt. “Tell me again what happened, one step at a time. Use his exact words, if you can remember them.”
“He rang the bell. I answered and foolishly opened the door. There was an SUV in the driveway. A black one. Fairly new. Expensive.” Flint nodded to keep her going. “He was clean-shaven. He had the gun out when I opened the door, and he pushed the door open and came inside. I was petrified. I didn’t know what to do.”
“What was the first thing he told you?”
She closed her eyes again, almost trance-like. “He said, ‘I’m looking for Josh Hallman. Is he here?’ And I was shocked. I hadn’t seen Josh since before I left Chicago. Before Jamie was born. So I said, ‘No. Why?’”
“What did he say?”
She swallowed hard before she continued. “He said Josh had piloted a small plane that crashed. He said Josh survived the crash and ran away. He demanded to search my house.” She swallowed again. “The house was small. It didn’t take long. He went into every room and opened every door. He even looked under the beds. He went into the garage and looked in the car.”
“Was Jamie home at the time?”
“No, thank God. He was in day care.” She clasped her hands together as if she might say a prayer of thanks. “After he didn’t find Josh, that’s when he said he’d be watching me. He said he’d know if Josh contacted me.”
“Do you have any indications that he has been watching you?”
Her eyes widened as if the thought hadn’t occurred to her. “I don’t know. I guess I just figured he’d watched for a while to confirm that I’m not in contact with Josh. Would he still be watching? After all this time?”
She’d be easy to monitor. It could be done remotely. Her home was a fortress, but her security was electronic. Watching her without her knowledge would be a relatively simple matter. Flint assumed she was being watched. Which meant he’d be on the guy’s radar now, too.
“What did he ask you to do if you heard from Josh?”
She shook her head. “He said he’d know. I took that to mean that he’d be using whatever high-tech stuff people use to spy on people these days.”
“Did you have CCTV at your house?”
She shook her head again. “Not then. I had it installed the next day.”
“What was your address? I may be able to get video from nearby cameras.” He said that, but he had little hope of finding any video. Surveillance systems back then were not what they were now. But Flint had access to sources most civilians couldn’t tap into.
She wrote the address down on a piece of paper and handed it to him. He knew the neighborhood. She was right. The chances of video cameras capturing something unexpected over in that residential section of Houston were slim.
“Tell me about the driver.”
“He was about the same age as the first guy, I guess. He stayed in the car. I couldn’t see him very well.”
Flint nodded again.
“You agree with me now, don’t you?” She raised her head and stared directly into Flint’s eyes. “You think Josh is alive.”
“Maybe.” Flint sighed. “He may have survived the crash. But it was six years ago. Whether he’s still alive is a totally different question.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your guy with the gun seemed to make it pretty clear that he would find Josh and deal with him. It’s too bad you didn’t report that visit to the police when it happened.”
Veronica buried her face in her hands and began to weep. It was the most normal human reaction he’d seen from her since they’d met.
“I’ll do what I can.” Flint stood up again. “But these guys sound like thugs to me. If they found him, it’s not likely they simply let him go.”
Veronica nodded. “I understand.”
Flint wondered if she really did. By not reporting the threat when it happened, she’d effectively eliminated any chance that Hallman could have been forewarned and hired protection. The poor sap had been on his own, and his basic military training would not have supplied the ability to defend himself from two determined killers.
Not only that, but finding Hallman had just become even more difficult. He wasn’t simply missing anymore. He was actively hiding. And he was good at it. Totally different gig.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Red Maple Lake, California
Six Years Ago
Dan and Josh pulled Skip and the life raft as far from the shoreline as possible. Josh collapsed on the rocky beach, breathing hard, sucking air into his lungs. His arms and legs felt like the Gumby rubber doll he’d played with as a kid.
Dan flopped onto the rocks, shivering, teeth chattering, gasping. Dan was in good physical condition, but the crash and his head injury and the hard paddling had pushed him beyond his limits.
Josh crawled over to the raft. He put a palm on Skip’s face. Skip was chilled and shivering and his face was contorted with pain. But he was still alive.
How long could the three of them possibly remain that way? Everything they owned was soaking wet. The sun had settled behind the mountains and the wind was cold. His own teeth were chattering. Hi
s skin felt as clammy as a fish. The struggle had pushed the limits of his physical conditioning, too.
How could they survive when the temperature dropped tonight? They had no food. No fire. Both Dan and Skip were injured.
One thing at a time.
That was the only answer that popped into his head.
One thing at a time.
Josh looked back at the Cessna. Only its tail section poked above the waterline and was barely visible from the shore. The weather continued to deteriorate. Stiff, steady wind blew in from the north. Sleet pelted his skin where he lay on the rocky beach. Skip had passed out or something. Josh feared the moment when his breathing would stop, too.
Josh was exhausted. His breath came in ragged chunks. Dan had manned up enough to paddle the distance, and somehow they had managed to reach dry land. Dan collapsed on the cold beach stones and pulled Josh down, too. They were still connected by the ropes he’d found inside the plane.
Skip was moaning, even though he wasn’t conscious. Pain and blood loss were probably to blame. Josh patted his pockets until he found his waterproof phone. He pulled it out and pressed the power button. The phone powered up, but found no cell signal. Figures.
With stiff, cold fingers Josh fumbled to untie himself from his two friends and struggled to push himself up to stand. His legs felt wobbly and weak. He turned to look back at the plane, which was upside down. The only thing visible was the bottom of the right pontoon and even that was almost totally submerged now.
Dan was conscious and breathing hard. His lips were blue from the cold. His teeth chattered. But he was alive. They all were. To stay that way, they needed help.
They had seen the resort as they approached from the air. But Josh was disoriented now. Had Red Maple Lake Resort been east or west of here? And how far away? He shook his head. He didn’t know.
He rubbed his hands over his biceps and moved his legs in place in a fruitless attempt to warm up. He closed his eyes to visualize the Cessna’s circling approach again.