Rocky Mountain Secrets: Rocky Mountain Sabotage ; Rocky Mountain Pursuit

by Jill Elizabeth Nelson

  “I do have to explain. Six months ago, my heart got ripped out and trampled into the dirt by the woman of my dreams—or the woman I thought was my dream. I know now that I was delusional from the start, seeing what was never there in Elspeth. She wanted a supposedly dashing former Special Forces pilot on her elbow.

  “In my mind, our relationship was serious. In hers, I was a trophy. Sure, she’d wear my engagement ring for a while, but she never intended to let me get her up the aisle to say ‘I do.’ Not as long as her mother considered me unworthy of her precious daughter. It took me a long time—way too long for a normally intelligent man—to see reality. I swore I’d never allow myself to be taken in again by a woman under the thumb of a parent. When your mom started shoving us together, I assumed you fell into that category. I was wrong.”

  Kent’s warm breath on her face told Lauren he was gazing straight at her. She could hardly trust herself to speak.

  “In other words,” she began in a raspy whisper, “my mother’s machinations hindered matters, rather than helped.”

  “Let’s just say, they created a smokescreen I’ve had a tough time seeing through.”

  A spurt of laughter left Lauren’s lips. “I’m going to use that as ammo against her one of these days.”

  “With my blessing.”

  Lauren heard the grin in his tone.

  “Now,” he said, “if you’d be agreeable, I’m open to exploring the possibility that she might be right about us.”

  Happy tears spurted to the corners of Lauren’s eyes. “I’ll never tell her that.”

  “Me either. She’ll have to see for herself.”

  Kent’s mouth found hers—soft, warm, undemanding. Lauren allowed the kiss to linger, expecting that knee-jerk inner withdrawal that always came when a man tried to get close to her. Only peace remained, and that itself was just a little scary. She pulled away and leaned her head on his shoulder.

  He cleared his throat. “Okay, so we still haven’t one hundred percent deduced the identity of the saboteur.”

  Lauren was absurdly grateful for the change of subject. She had soul-searching to do in the area of lasting romance. This problem-solving was more comfortable right now.

  She lifted her head. “I’m not sure how many more clues we can find until we somehow get back to the others.”

  Kent let out a low hum. “I have an odd question that may or may not lead anywhere.”

  “What is it?”

  “Why would your stepfather tell your mother he knows me?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When she was boarding the plane, she told me her husband vouched for me as a good guy. I assume that’s why she was interested in me as relationship material for you. I’ve never seen or spoken to Marlin Barrington. Since he’s got first dibs on the company jet, Peerless One only charters mine when other executives need to go a different direction than Barrington.”

  Lauren hugged her knees to her chest. “That is strange. Wait a sec! Mom told me that Marlin arranged personally for our trip to California, but that we were going to fly charter because the Peerless One jet was grounded for maintenance. I wonder if the company jet was really in the shop, or if Marlin didn’t want to crash his own jet. Could he be a part of this?”

  “You don’t trust your stepfather much, do you?”

  “Mom confessed to me that she’s always had a weakness for bad boys. Even though Marlin appears solid gold on the outside, I’ve always sensed cheap brass on the inside. For my mom’s sake, I’ve been trying to mark the reaction down to my chronic suspicion of the entire male race.”

  Kent let out a soft chuckle. “Maybe your instincts in this case are spot-on. But why kill you and his wife, and I still don’t understand why he would tell your mother he knew me.”

  Lauren snorted. “That last part is easy. If Mom had the slightest inclination to forego the trip, a romantic prospect for me would seal the deal.”

  They batted ideas back and forth for a while, but conversation soon ebbed. Kent’s nearness kept Lauren reasonably warm, but the utter blackness pressed in with a chill that had nothing to do with temperature. Her imagination saw more with her eyes closed than she could see with them open.

  She yawned. “Don’t fall asleep,” she murmured to Kent.

  “I won’t,” he murmured back.

  * * *

  Shivers drew Kent to consciousness. He was cold all over except his back where something warm pressed against him. Lauren! Kent gingerly sat up and confirmed that she was lying on her side with her back against his. Faint light bathed her feminine features and emphasized the darkness of her lashes against high cheekbones.

  Light! Realization literally shook him, setting off a chain reaction of aches and pains from his head straight down to his toes. He ignored the discomfort. They were in the bowels of the mountain. There should be no illumination without a light source. This felt and looked like sunshine. Could they be near an opening to the outdoors?

  Lauren let out a soft moan and opened her eyes. Her gaze focused on him, and she smiled. Kent’s heart did a backflip.

  She gasped and sat up sharply. “We fell asleep! I’m so sorry! Are you all right?”

  Her hands fluttered up and cupped his cheeks. Those jade eyes searched his face, sending a buoyant sensation through his insides.

  He smiled. “I didn’t wake up dead if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “Oh, you!” She huffed and drew her hands back. Her gaze narrowed then widened. “It can’t be! We can see each other!”

  “Let there be light,” he said, forcing his cramped muscles to bring him to his feet. He held out his hand to help her up.

  She took it and rose beside him. “We need to find out where this wonderful illumination is coming from.”

  He gestured toward the passage they had yet to explore. “Seems to be beaming in from somewhere that way.”

  They entered the passage and soon encountered a breeze with an outdoorsy tang. Lauren let out a laugh that seemed more than a little giddy. Kent squeezed her hand that he had retained in his possession.

  Shortly, the passage began to rise and narrow. They could no longer walk side-by-side, and Kent went ahead. The breeze grew fresher and the light stronger. Abruptly, he stepped out the side of the mountain onto a knoll looking down on a forest clearing. He stopped so suddenly that Lauren ran into him.

  “Unbelievable!” The word gasped out of him.

  “What?” Lauren pushed at him.

  He stepped out of her way. She came up beside him and clamped both hands over her mouth, blinking rapidly.

  Kent laid a hand on her shoulder. “Wait here inside the cave entrance. I need to investigate. People don’t leave one of those things lying around unattended, and the attendant may not be friendly.”

  She nodded, tears shimmering in her eyes. Hope and fear struggled in the wobbly smile she sent his way.

  Kent squared his shoulders and marched down the hill. With no cover available, there was no point in trying a subtle approach toward the last object he expected to see on the backside of nowhere—a Bell helicopter.

  The bird was painted blue and white, and lacked identification markers on the chopper’s body that would be present if it belonged to the US Forest Service, some other government agency or a business corporation. A private aircraft sitting here at the exit from the cave? Too convenient a coincidence to believe this mode of transportation wasn’t connected with the scheme that involved the sabotage of his plane.

  The nearer he drew toward the chopper the slower he approached, gaze searching for threat. No one appeared to be sitting inside the cockpit, but that didn’t mean no one was there. A blue jay fluttered by a few feet from him, and he jumped, then shook himself and proceeded. The grass was thick and soft here, unlike the patchy growth in the scree around Trouble Creek. If anyone were
snoozing inside the body of the aircraft, they wouldn’t hear him coming. And they wouldn’t see him either, because there were no passenger windows. This was a cargo chopper.

  Kent reached the bird and peered through the cockpit window. No one in evidence.

  Here goes nothing!

  He grabbed the door handle, jerked it open and leaped into the pilot seat. No startled outcry greeted his plunging entrance, and he stuck his head into the cargo area. Empty, except for one telltale object—a long, narrow cart, ideal for hauling long, narrow, heavy crates through cave passages. The only serious obstacle would be the drop-off Lauren had fallen down, but the mastermind behind all this no doubt had a plan to deal with that minor hiccup. A wooden ramp would do it.

  The mystery just became less mysterious. This was the escape vehicle for whoever had wrecked his plane, along with his loot of gold bars. No doubt Mags had been the intended pilot for this whirlybird, but now... Kent’s brow furrowed then smoothed. Now he was the only pilot left in the game. No wonder the man mountain hadn’t gutted him with the knife when he had the chance. Kent was still useful. Everyone else was throwaway baggage.

  Kent turned to motion Lauren over, but she was already halfway across the clearing. She stopped beside the open pilot door and gazed up at him. He shared his deductions with her, and her lips flattened into a thin line as she nodded in agreement.

  Her brow furrowed. “Can you summon help with this thing?”

  “If we’re not still disrupted by iron ore deposits,” he said, plucking a battery-operated aviation radio unit from a slot in the center console between the front bucket seats. He switched on the radio and received a burst of static. The unit worked, but would it reach out to anyone?

  Swallowing his stomach into place, Kent tuned to the emergency frequency then relayed the standard distress message once...twice...three times. No response except more white noise. His hopes fell as Lauren’s shoulders slumped.

  Static suddenly burst from the radio. A muffled voice came through, but no intelligible words.

  Kent’s heart leaped. He keyed the mic. “Say again?”

  “Dyer Airport, Dyer, Nevada, US Bureau of Land Management, responding to distress call.” Static still ruled, but the words were relatively clear. How long that would last was anybody’s guess.

  Kent spoke quickly but clearly, informing the technician about the crash landing of his airplane and the location in the abandoned mining town of Trouble Creek, Nevada, exact coordinates unavailable due to instrumentation failure prior to the crash. Garbled words responded briefly and then devolved into total static. Had the technician heard what he said?

  A groan of wordless frustration came from Lauren. “Why are you using the battery-operated? Why not the built-in radio?”

  Kent’s gaze met the desperation in Lauren’s. “We’ve got to get this bird in the air. It’s the only way we’ll send a clear message on either the battery or the built-in. There’s one big obstacle.” He frowned at the front instrument panel. “No key in the ignition.”

  THIRTEEN

  The bottom dropped out of Lauren’s stomach. “Here sits this beautiful helicopter, and we can’t fly it?”

  “I didn’t say that.” Kent grinned down at her from his perch in the pilot’s seat. “I just said the missing key was an obstacle. I’m pretty sure I can hot-wire this baby.”

  “Kent Garland, don’t scare me like that. I could just shake you.”

  “Hold that thought while you climb in on the other side of me.”

  “You want me to hold on to being angry with you?”

  His gaze warmed. “You’re especially beautiful when you’re mad.”

  Lauren turned on her heel and stomped around the large helicopter. The guy was certifiable if he thought that sort of backhanded compliment was going to get on her good side. Yet, a frisson of warmth flowed through her, and she swallowed a smile.

  Then a thought chilled her blood.

  What might be happening among the survivors back at the mercantile? Was her mother safe? The answer had to be a big “no.” The saboteur was deadly dangerous. When Kent and his gun had not returned last night, the killer might have decided to take that opportunity to eliminate all the witnesses to his treachery. Who knew what horror could be happening this very minute on the other side of the mountain?

  “Hurry!” Lauren cried as she climbed into the copilot seat.

  Kent had stepped out of the chopper so he could lean in under the dash and fiddle with wires. All she could see of him was the back of his head and neck.

  A sudden burst from the engine sent a jolt of electricity through Lauren, but then the purr died. Kent muttered something under his breath. Lauren clasped her hands together. Please, God, help us get this helicopter airborne! She held her breath as several heartbeats passed. The engine roared to healthy life, and Lauren let out an involuntary cheer.

  Kent grinned at her as he hoisted himself back into the pilot’s seat. “Get your helmet on.” He pointed to an object strapped to the roof of the chopper. Lauren complied, and Kent donned his also.

  Her foot beat a ragged tattoo on the floor as she watched him run through a series of flight checks, flipping switches and pushing buttons on the front, middle and overhead consoles. She had no clue what he was doing, but lectured herself that all the fussy business must be necessary. Her stomach clenched. Something in her core knew beyond certainty that time was running out for the people trapped in Trouble Creek.

  “Can you hear me?” Kent’s voice came through the ear phones built into the helmet.

  “Loud and clear,” she answered. “Can we please—”

  “Hang in there. I’m working as fast as I can.”

  “I know. I know. I just...sorry.” Lauren gritted her teeth against pointless nagging.

  Finally, the rotors began to turn—slowly at first, but then faster and faster until they were a blur. The helicopter lifted off the ground, and Lauren expelled a pent-up breath. They rose above the pine trees, and Kent turned the nose of the helicopter away from Trouble Creek.

  “What are you doing?” she burst out. “We have to get back to the others as quickly as possible.”

  He shot her a glance. “Priority one is resending our distress call. And, if possible, I’d like to keep the people in Trouble Creek from hearing the noise of the chopper while we wait for the cavalry.”

  “I don’t know how long we can wait, Kent. I have a very bad feeling. Our disappearance overnight may signal the saboteur that his greatest deterrent—you and your gun—has been removed.”

  “News flash, sweetheart. I don’t have my gun.”

  “The saboteur doesn’t know that.”

  Their gazes locked for a long second.

  Kent shook his head and shrugged. “Let’s get this Mayday sent. Then we’ll see.”

  He brought them to a hover just beyond the next mountain. The scenery was breathtaking with snowy peaks, majestic rock faces and strips of brilliant green pines, but Lauren could appreciate none of it. With a reassuring nod, Kent flipped the switch to include her headset in the conversation on the built-in radio and made the call.

  Thankfully, communication was now crystal clear. Unfortunately, the tiny Dyer airport—the nearest to their location—had no police or military helicopters on site. They were passed on to the local authorities in Las Vegas and were bumped up almost immediately to the field office of the FBI. Kent efficiently explained the situation to the special agent at the other end, and they were again immediately sent up the chain of authority.

  Lauren exchanged a puzzled glance with Kent. A person would think emergency response could be activated without this crazy game of hot potato.

  “Assistant Special Agent in Charge Rolanda Romero,” said a crisp female voice. “Do I understand correctly that your plane was brought down by an onboard explosive device?”

  �
��That’s correct,” Kent said. “We crash-landed in a valley in the Rockies near an abandoned mining town called Trouble Creek. Landslides have cut off ground access to the valley. We need air evacuation.”

  “As soon as possible,” Lauren inserted. “We have injured people, as well as one fatality.”

  “Emergency services are prepping for departure as we speak,” the ASAC said. “Can you tell me who was aboard the sabotaged aircraft?”

  Kent named off those on the passenger list and then added himself and Magdalena Haven. “Ms. Haven is the fatality, but we have reason to think she was a party to the sabotage. We believe that she and a confederate among the passengers intended to debark by parachute prior to the explosion. Either the bomb went off prematurely, or they were behind on their departure. The tandem chute was never used.”

  “Do you know the identity of Ms. Haven’s confederate?”

  “We do not, but covert attempts have been made to kill off the survivors. You are advised to send law enforcement along with emergency services.”

  “Noted. Our copy of the flight manifest lists Marlin Barrington among the passengers. Are you certain he is not with you?”

  “Positive.” Lauren rolled her eyes. “He’s my stepfather. My mother was on board, but her husband was not.”

  “We know who you are...and your mother.”

  Something in the ASAC’s tone curdled Lauren’s insides. “Why do you want to know about Marlin?”

  “He disappeared the day your plane took off. The same day we were closing the net to arrest him for massive fraud and insider trading, among a laundry list of other crimes.”

  Lauren’s heart plummeted to her toes. “My poor mom. She’ll be devastated.”

  Kent reached over and squeezed her hand. Lauren shot him a grateful look.

  “We will be speaking to her and to you,” said Romero.

  “Wait just a minute. If you think my mother or I had anything to do with—”

  “Something you should know for your own safety,” the ASAC interrupted. “Barrington is not this man’s real name. He has had many aliases over the course of several decades of criminal activity.”