by Anna del Mar
“Something like what, Miss Know It All?”
“I think you’re punishing yourself.”
“What?” Where the fuck had that come from?
“You’re punishing yourself for the loss of your friends’ lives.”
Blindsided. Her words slammed into me like a punch to the gut. I went into a tailspin. I almost doubled over the stick. Focus, Erickson. I wasn’t going to lose it at this altitude. I glanced over at Summer. The compassion etched on her face left me reeling. Jesus fucking Christ. Was she right? Had I grounded myself to atone for my friends’ deaths?
“Enough punishment.” She stared at me with those relentless eyes. “You’ve served your sentence. It’s time to let yourself out of prison.”
She was right. Any idiot could see that. How the hell had she figured out what I hadn’t been able to see for myself? I was holding back, out of guilt, grief, and despair. I couldn’t make sense of what had happened. Why the hell was I alive? Did I have a right to happiness when my friends were gone?
Summer’s voice hoisted me out of the darkness. “It’s called survivor’s guilt. I looked it up. It’s not uncommon. I don’t know that anybody gets over stuff like that, but some people learn to live with it.”
My throat tightened. Behind my shades, a watery film blurred my vision. I had to blink several times before I could read the instruments. I focused my attention on the radar and adjusted the collective. Hell no, there was no way could I talk about this, not now, maybe never. Just fly the damn helicopter.
“Your friends loved flying, didn’t they?” Summer said.
“They did,” I admitted reluctantly.
“Then flying is how you celebrate their lives,” she said, “and every time you fly with your squadron, you honor their memories. In fact, you’re honoring them right now.”
She was spot-on. Jonesy and Shawn would’ve loved it. I could think of no better tribute to my friends than a successfully executed mission. Why hadn’t I thought of that?
I glanced over at the woman beside me. She smiled at me, a kind, soothing gesture that pierced through the gloom that enveloped me whenever I thought of my fallen friends. She was beginning to know me better than I knew myself and, now that she’d gutted my grief and dragged out my sorrows into the open, she did me a second favor: she dropped the subject and swiftly moved on.
“There it is,” she said as we flew east of Mount Denali. “I’ve got no words. It’s like the mother of all mountains.”
“North America’s tallest.” I cleared my throat, thankful for the distraction. “It’s so big, it makes its own weather.”
“Have you climbed it?” she asked.
“Several times.”
“And you summited every time, didn’t you?”
I shrugged. It was in the record books, so no need to boast.
She flashed a proud smile. “So you’re good at climbing ginormous mountains too?”
“I’ve had a lot of practice and a good technical education.” High-altitude mountaineering had been a passion of mine, right up there with flying. “I’m okay.”
“You’re probably a lot better than okay. Are we near to where you saved that hiker?”
I glanced at her. “How do you know about that?”
“Ally told me you held the record for the highest-altitude helicopter rescue in North America. So I looked it up.”
“It wasn’t a big deal.”
“What happened?”
“The hiker got stranded on a ledge. There was some weather coming in—hell, this is Alaska, there’s always weather coming in. I plucked him off a ledge on the south side. The guy sends me a Christmas card every year.”
“I bet.” She flashed me a knowing smile. “He’s alive because of you.”
“We got lucky, that’s all.”
The sun set a fiery death behind the mountains. The sky turned into a gorgeous tone of luminescent indigo before the first stars began to play peek-a-boo with our eyes. I switched the helicopter’s setting to night flight. A soft glow illuminated Summer’s face. We talked a lot, about her childhood, my upbringing, and growing up in Alaska.
“Do you want to know what I think about this feud you’ve got going with this Alex person?” she said.
“Go ahead.” Not even divine intervention would stop Summer from giving her opinion, but honestly? I wanted to hear what she had to say. “Don’t hold back on my account.”
“I think you should reach out to your cousins,” she said. “Just because Alex is a jerk doesn’t mean the rest of them are too. They’re your family, you know.”
“In name,” I said, “but not in substance.”
“You’re not around them much,” she said. “They don’t know who you are.”
“I don’t think they like me much these days.”
“So what?” she said. “You don’t stand by your family because you like them. You stand by them because they’re your family.”
The way she thought about family made me wish she was part of mine. But my family was a total clusterfuck and I didn’t have the time, patience or inclination to tackle that can of worms.
Summer’s next question came out of left field.
“Would you consider living somewhere other than Alaska?”
I glanced at her. “Somewhere else like where?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” She squirmed under my scrutiny. “I guess you’d melt in Miami.”
“Miami?” What the fuck was going on in her head? “It’s hot as hell in Miami.”
“You’re right.” She slumped on her seat. “For a guy who craves ice, Miami would be unbearable.”
By the way her eyes dimmed, I kind of got her heading.
“Hey,” I said. “Just because our body temps clock at opposite ends of the thermometer doesn’t mean we’re doomed.”
She met my eyes. “You think so?”
“We grow tropical orchids year-round in the Erickson greenhouses.”
“We’ve got air-conditioning in Miami.”
She was as stubborn as I was and we weren’t talking about the weather anymore.
“I bet you don’t have this in Miami,” I said.
A diffused glow lit up the sky to our west. A flutter of green light tiptoed across the sky then disappeared. Her eyes narrowed, peering into the night. A curtain of translucent green unfurled across the night, a luminous veil flickering against the sky, shifting, changing, breaking up, and reassembling into fantastic new combinations.
Summer’s eyes sparkled with the lights. “Is that...?”
“Aurora borealis,” I said, “performing tonight for your enjoyment.”
“Wow.” Summer took in the spectacle. “Incredible. How does it work?”
“One theory is that solar winds flowing by the earth bring charged particles that interact with the atmosphere’s geomagnetic components.”
“So it’s raining speckles of sunlight on us tonight.” She gazed at the sky. “How marvelous is that?”
Her wonder powered my grin. “It’s pretty cool.”
“Do you know what the Northern Lights remind me of?” she said. “A neon billboard, flashing a message from the universe.”
“What’s the universe advertising tonight?”
“Life is beautiful? The universe rocks? Welcome home?”
“I really, really like that last one.”
The smile she gave me had me roaming for a landing spot. I needed a quickie. I’d just turned on the searchlights when a call came through in my private channel, derailing my best plans. Well, fuck me.
“What’s wrong?” Summer asked when I switched off the searchlights and banked on a southerly heading.
“Got to go,” I said. “Trouble in Prudhoe Bay.”
“I hope
it’s nothing serious.”
“We’ll see.” I should’ve made it over there days ago. “But don’t worry, you’ll be safe while I’m gone. I promise.”
“Erickson?” She flashed me one of her looks. “I wasn’t worried about me. I was worried about you.”
“Don’t be,” I said. “Troubleshooting is what I do for a living. I’ll take you home, fly out in the jet, and be back in a cinch. You’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” she said, “as long as trouble doesn’t shoot back at you.”
Chapter Eighteen
I clutched my coffee and watched the sun setting over the mountains. As sunsets went, Alaska’s were spectacular. Light crowned the mountains in royal purples and the world seemed to take a last breath before plunging into the night’s mysteries. I set down my cup and loaded up two thermoses I found in the pantry with coffee. I put on my pink coat, stepped out on the deck and, leaning over the railing, called out.
“Hey, you, down there, come out where I can see you.”
Nothing.
“Come on, power ranger,” I said in a singsong voice. “Or is it ninja turtle? Assassin’s Creed?”
Nary a rustle from beneath the deck.
“You’ve been there all day,” I said. “Come out and talk to me. Or if you prefer, I’ll come down there to meet you.”
“Don’t.” A man wearing camo stepped out into view. “No one is supposed to know we’re here and you’re to stay inside at all times.”
“Ah, we’re playing the princess in the tower game, are we?” I waved the thermoses in the air. “This one’s for you and this one’s for your friend over there in the woods. I realize I have no chance of getting you guys to come upstairs, so catch.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” The man hooked his weapon over his shoulder and caught the thermoses I dropped into his hands. “We’ve got strict orders.”
“Of course you do,” I said. “Far be it for me to get you guys into trouble, but it’s really cold out here, so I unlocked the side door to the garage. Please feel free to come in and defrost at regular intervals. I know you burly Alaskan types have thick hides, but it’ll make me feel a lot better if I knew my shining knights weren’t frozen in their armor.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The guy grinned. “Thanks again, ma’am.”
“And just in case you people need an incentive to avoid frostbite, I left a plate of homemade cookies on the shelf. I’d be heartbroken if I found leftovers in the morning.”
“Cookies?” The guy put his fist over his chest and bowed. “You’ve got a champion for life, my lady.”
I laughed and waved, scurrying inside on frozen toes just as my cell chirped. I fished it out from beneath the pile of blueprints that Jer and I had been working on earlier. I recognized the number on the screen.
“Princess Silva, speaking,” I said. “Live, from her perch atop Erickson’s fortress.”
A long pause and then, “Are you mad at me?”
“Nah,” I said. “I miss you too much. You’re growing on me, Erickson.”
“Damn.” He sounded surprised. “Must be my lucky day.”
“I don’t know that a camouflaged army is really necessary to keep intruders out and me in, but if it gives you peace of mind, I’ll just have to live with it.”
“It’s just a few operatives trained to watch over priority assets.”
“In shifts, I’d like to add.” I paced along the windows. “When exactly did I transform from a person into an asset?”
“You’re sharp, I get it,” he said. “But I’m not taking any chances. Maybe I should’ve told you about them before I left.”
“Now you’re learning.”
“You seem surprised.”
“An old Spanish proverb says you can’t teach an old parrot new words.”
“Maybe this old parrot can learn.”
“I’m happy to have a myth disproven,” I said. “How are you doing? Did you put on the lotion I got for you? Is it working?”
“It works a hell of a lot better than what I was using before.”
“Excellent.” I did a little dance. “Does that mean you’re not competing with the polar bears for fresh patches of snow?”
A few moments of silence and then, “You know about that?”
“I’m not entirely clueless, Erickson,” I said. “How are things on Planet Pluto?”
I could hear the smile on his face. “It’s Prudhoe Bay and so that you know, it’s different from Planet Pluto.”
“Poor Pluto,” I said. “He’s a planet off and on these days. How would you feel if one day you’re a planet in all your glory and the next day you’re nothing but a mass of stinky gas?”
His laughter tickled me down to my toes. “Man, I miss you real bad.”
“Are you sure you’re not just missing that old couch you like so much?”
“The couch is nothing without you on it.”
It was my turn to smile and reminisce about the very wicked pleasures I’d discovered on the couch in question.
“Did Robert stop by?” Seth asked.
“Three times so far.”
“Did Jer talk to you?”
“He was here too,” I said. “We’ve been making progress with his project.”
“Excellent.” He paused. I could almost hear his mind working on something.
“What’s wrong?” I said. “Why are you worried?”
“I don’t think I’ll make it back today, either,” he said. “Things got complicated out here. I might have to stay a few days in order to set things straight.”
“Unpredictability is a part of interstellar travel.” I tried to hide my disappointment. “If you’re worried about me, please don’t. I’ve got the Erickson brigade watching over me and, even if you don’t believe me, for the last twenty-nine and a half years, I’ve managed without you.”
“Ouch,” he said. “Never one to miss the chance to take a bite.”
“Watch out,” I said. “My people came from the islands. We evolved from a fierce line of sharp-toothed sharks.”
“That explains it.” He laughed then sobered up. “Seriously now, I’ve got it covered. I need you to feel safe in the house.”
“I feel super safe and you should feel worry-free.”
“Do me a favor,” he said. “Be sure to engage the door chain.”
“Always do.”
“And lock the door when you’re ready to go to bed. The door lock will activate the house security alert system and the motion sensors, which will in turn notify me via satellite if anyone tries to enter the house or if you start wandering in your sleep.”
“Stop. Pare. Halt,” I said. “Now you’re scaring the living shit out of me.”
“Why?”
“You’ve gone over the top.”
“How?”
“Seth,” I said. “I’ve managed all my life with this disorder. I haven’t needed remote monitoring, motion sensors or satellite security alerts. The door chain helps. The rest is overkill.”
“I don’t agree but...”
“But what?”
“I guess you’ll want the indoor cameras off then?”
Oh. My. Freaking. God. “There are security cameras inside this house?”
“I do travel a great deal and—”
“Erickson!”
“I know, over the top, I get it,” he said. “I’m trying over here. Bear with me. Okay? How about I trade you a mea culpa for a break?”
I suspected him immediately. “What kind of a break?”
“I want to leave on the volume so I can hear you breathe.”
I squeezed the bridge of my nose. The line between sweetness and obsession was iffy, but I could hear the struggle in his
voice. He was trying hard. His honesty echoed in my heart.
“All right,” I said. “You want to have the audio on? Fine, but on one condition: I get to hear you breathing too. I sleep a lot better when I feel you near.”
“You want to hear me snoring?” Beyond encouraged, he sounded thrilled. “Deal. I’ll set you up with a connection to my laptop for tonight.”
“Good,” I said. “For future reference, it’s only fair if it goes both ways.”
“Got it.” I heard another voice in the background, calling his name. “Ah, hell, I’ve got to go.”
“Good luck with the conquest of Pluto,” I said. “Don’t forget to wear your gas mask.”
He laughed. “Talk to you later.”
“Good night, Erickson.”
“Good night, beautiful,” he said and then, “Love you.”
“Love you back.”
It was only after I hung up that I realized with a start what we had said to each other.
Chapter Nineteen
The mansion that presided over the Erickson estate appeared at the end of a long drive like a magnificent vision. It rose on a sprawling promontory overlooking the sound, framed against the Alaskan Range’s dramatic backdrop. Built in the traditional New England Shingle Style, the big house could’ve been in Kennebunkport or Hyannis Port. And yet it belonged in Alaska as surely as the spruce forest surrounding the expansive compound and the red fox that caused my driver to swerve as it strutted across the road.
An army of uniformed valets kept the line of cars ahead of us moving. Sitting in the backseat of the Suburban that Seth had sent for me, I noticed a number of hydroplanes landing on the water and taxiing to the dock. People were coming from everywhere for this event.
Seth had been gone for the last three days. It felt like forever. I’d spoken with him every day, several times a day, but seeing his face on a screen wasn’t the same. He’d made me promise I’d meet him at the benefit today. Every particle in my body buzzed with the excitement of seeing him again.
It wasn’t as if I’d had a lot of time to pine for him. Between the Erickson and Darius projects, Hector Carrera kept me busy 24/7. If anything, he was even more high-strung than usual these days, keeping close track of me, a boss on steroids. In addition, I’d spoken to a hotel manager in Talkeetna who said he’d talked to Tammy. He told me that Tammy and Nikolai had stayed at the hotel after a day hike at Denali. He said they’d mentioned they were heading north, but he didn’t know where.