“I’ll send a fire truck.” Shaw picked up the receiver again.
Preston swallowed down the terror as best he could. The firemen would do their jobs. They’d rescue anybody trapped in Long’s vacation rental. They’d put out the flames before the heat could suffocate Holly with smoke. Because if they didn’t…
The scent of burning wood swirled about him, smothering him with hopelessness and at the same time igniting a determination within. Preston couldn’t just climb onto the dock and stand there as the deputy unsnapped one of the handcuffs behind Preston’s back only to reattach it to the CID detective’s arm. If they weren’t going to do something, he would. And this was his chance. But what could he do? What, Lord?
The sound of whipping wind drew Preston’s attention. He knew that sound well. A familiar Robinson R44 warmed up its propeller from a helipad above the water. Hank, the old man from down the street. He’d already done so much for Preston. Would he be willing to help save Holly, as well?
The soles of Preston’s feet itched. He couldn’t stay still. He couldn’t leave Holly to deal with attempted murder when there was something he could do about it. Even if it got him in more trouble later. The only thing worse than spending a lifetime in prison would be spending a lifetime in prison feeling responsible for another death.
The man in the suit held out his arm to have the other half of Preston’s handcuffs snapped on by Shaw’s deputy. He was doing his job and wouldn’t understand Preston’s desperation. He’d probably pull his gun and shoot. Maybe Preston would get a chance to explain one day. Maybe not. He met the man’s steely gaze. “I’m sorry.”
The man lifted his chin, then his eyebrows. “Are you confessing?”
“No. I’m leaving.” Preston yanked his arm away to rip the handcuffs from the police deputy and charged toward the ladder that would take him to the helipad. He leaped before reaching it and grabbed the highest rung he could. He tucked his abs in to yank his feet up.
“Stop him,” Shaw barked from behind.
It would take a bullet to stop him. But no bullets whizzed by.
Feet pounded on hardwood. The ladder shook as someone reached it below. But they mercifully hadn’t fired any guns. Probably mercy for the tourists climbing aboard the chopper, not for him.
He hoisted himself to the top of the pad and pushed through the wind toward the pilot. “Hank, I need a lift to the Tahoe Keys. There’s a cabin on fire, and a friend of mine may be inside.”
The pilot’s helmet turned so Preston could make out a ruddy face and crazy eyebrows. “Preston? You want me to fly you to the Keys to rescue someone?” His jowls jiggled as he grinned. “I knew there was more to you than an antisocial recluse.”
If that was a vote of confidence, he’d take it. “I’m a former SOAR pilot framed for sabotage.” He leaped into the empty passenger seat. “I was going to turn myself in, but I’ve got to save someone first.”
Hank nodded. “A woman?”
“Yes.” He’d let Hank assume anything he wanted about his relationship to the woman if it got him to her faster. “Fly me over the lake, and I’ll jump out in the canal when we get close.” His gut churned at the thought of what Holly might be experiencing at that very moment.
Hank slammed his door closed and motioned for Preston to do the same. “Buckle up, folks.” He nodded toward the couple in the backseat. “SOAR started after I flew choppers for the military, but that’s not going to keep me from helping out a fellow vet now.”
Shaw’s deputy and the CID officer waved arms overhead from the edge of helipad as Hank pulled the collective back and lifted the throttle to raise the chopper into the air.
The man in the backseat pointed out the window. “I think the police want you to go back down, sir.”
“Oh my.” The wife gasped and stared at the handcuff hanging from Preston’s right wrist. “He’s wearing handcuffs.”
The R44 tilted to one side as Hank turned them around. Preston twisted against gravity to comfort the passengers. “Ma’am, the man who killed my military commander is likely trying to kill my…my…childhood sweetheart.” No more assumptions. Now everyone knew how much Holly meant to him.
The woman in the backseat leaned forward. “You’re trying to save your sweetheart?”
Would she ever be his sweetheart again? She might if he got there in time. “Yes, I am.”
The woman’s tiny hand reached up and slapped Hank’s shoulder. “Fly faster.”
“Roger.”
The column of smoke grew larger. Preston’s own lungs burned as his gaze followed the trail down to the large house just past the opening to the Keys. Flames danced on the roof. Why couldn’t he have been wrong?
Preston unsnapped his seat belt. He wouldn’t ask Hank to land. All the wind from the propellers could easily cause the fire to spread. Plus he had to get down there immediately. Had to know for sure if Holly was inside. He gripped the door latch and scanned the narrow waterway for the best position from which to jump.
“I’ll hover out past the dock.” Hank lowered toward the canal before balancing the collective, cyclic and tail rotor. Water churned beneath them, licking up whitecaps. If only they had a helicopter bucket to pick up water from the lake and dump it on the cabin. “Ready?”
Preston took a deep breath and looked over to the cabin one more time. God, if You care…
A man stepped out from behind the shed and raised his arm. Caleb with a gun.
Preston jolted in surprise, then continued the movement to dive toward Hank and shield him with his body. “Get down,” he yelled to the couple in back.
Why hadn’t he expected this? Maybe because the attorney would have a tough time explaining his reason for shooting at a helicopter tour. There would be witnesses. Unless he killed them all to keep his act going. Or did he think he could somehow spin this? Claim he thought Preston had set the fire and was trying to get away?
A gunshot rang in the air. A bullet zinged through the window. Air pressure tugged at Preston’s eardrums, the rotary blades whirred louder, the helicopter tipped side to side, and the woman behind him screamed, but at least nobody had been—
Something wet trickled over Preston’s hand where he’d reached across the pilot to shield him.
Hank moaned and gripped his chest. “Think I’m gonna have myself a fine scar, folks.”
Blood oozed through Hank’s fingers down onto Preston. The pilot had been shot.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Preston ducked as another bullet shattered glass this time. Wind whipped through the open window. Even if Hank could still fly, there was no way the chopper would make it back to the helipad. Preston wouldn’t be jumping out of the helicopter. He’d be landing it.
“Hank, trade me places.” He’d been helpless for so long. But not now. Now once he got the cyclic between his legs and the tail rotor pedals at his feet. And all Caleb had was a gun? The criminal better watch out.
Hank reached for the seat belt slowly. Too slowly.
“Come on, Hank,” Preston urged.
The man nodded, his jowls flapping. But he didn’t seem to have the power to respond any more than that. Hank needed help.
Another bullet pinged against metal.
Preston’s heart lodged in his throat. As if in reflex, he unstrapped Hank’s seat belt and pulled him to his lap in the passenger seat.
The woman in the back shrieked when she got a glimpse of Hank’s chest wound.
“I’m okay,” Hank murmured. “I’m…” He sank, unconscious, to the floor.
The chopper tilted left. The woman screamed again. Preston let the force of gravity pull him over into the pilot’s seat. He gripped his harness to connect the straps. He now had to land not only to get to Holly but to get medical attention for Hank.
A fourth slug sliced through the air and dived into the back of Hank’s seat. If the man hadn’t been slouched forward, he would have been hit a second time.
That was it. Preston pulled the nose up sl
ightly to get them out of Caleb’s line of sight. The position would also help keep his forward movement slow enough to land in the cul-de-sac on the other side of the house. It wasn’t going to be easy to land the chopper from a hover, but Preston didn’t have many choices. He shifted the collective and eased over the roof toward cement.
Caleb appeared below him again, ducking behind a house next door.
Preston armed the parking brake, reduced momentum, leveled altitude and adjusted the collective. The helicopter jerked to a landing, jarring his teeth and rocking Hank’s head back.
Ripping the first aid kit from the ceiling, Preston dug for gauze to press against Hank’s wound. “Hold this,” he ordered the man behind him to lean forward and take over. “And you call 911,” he said to the woman. They scurried to comply though if Shaw had anything to do with it, they would already be on their way.
Preston scanned the area for Caleb before swinging the door open and leaping to the ground. No sign of the other man. Preston raced across the lawn toward the front door. A wall of heat washed over him, but he refused to slow. A shovel lay at the doorstep. A weapon? Preston tensed even more as he stepped over the tool. “Holly?” He coughed at the liquid-like smoke threatening to drown him.
A bright red T-shirt drew his eyes toward the floor by the couch, reminding him of the way he’d hid with her behind a couch the day before. Why hadn’t he taken her suggestion and revealed himself then? They could have avoided all this—avoided the question as to whether she was even alive or not.
He dived to his hands and knees to get below the smoke and pulled the soft neckline of his tee over his nose and mouth to use as a mask. Holding his breath, he crawled across the floor. He gripped Holly’s shoulder to shake her awake. Her face rolled to the side. Her beautiful face. No response. But her chest rose and fell rhythmically, signifying she was still alive. He had to get her out of there to keep her that way.
The front door slammed shut behind him, caging the smoke and forcing it to sink lower over his head. Caleb. The man must have waited for him to enter and probably barred the door with the shovel.
Sweat rolled down Preston’s nose, though the heat of the fire wasn’t nearly as bad as the burning in his lungs. And Holly had been breathing the smoke in much longer than he had.
Fear clawed at his heart. Not fear of Caleb anymore. But fear of losing the most important person in his life. Even when he’d had no life.
* * *
Was she lying under blankets? So heavy. So hot. She needed to kick them off. And she needed a drink. Her throat burned like she’d just taken a bite of the beach. She blinked. Her eyes teared up. She reached to rub the sting away.
“Holly.” Someone coughed.
Preston? She opened her eyes, but all she could see was a haze. Was she dreaming? Funny, she didn’t remember going to bed. All she remembered was…Caleb with a shovel and the smell of gasoline.
Holly pushed her hands into the floor to sit up. Long’s vacation rental really had been set on fire. But at least Preston had found her. And she was still alive.
The thick air choked her. Even her nostrils burned. She bent over as a coughing fit racked her chest.
“I’m getting you outside.” Two strong arms scooped beneath her knees and arms. “Mrs. Long isn’t here, is she?”
Holly shook her head as much as she could in the middle of a coughing fit. Was she still in danger? Not if Caleb had been caught. And he must have been if Preston had told the police what had happened and they’d let him go. The police would finally be on their side.
Preston stumbled toward the French doors at the rear of the home and yanked one open. Cool air rushed past them. Holly closed her eyes to fully enjoy a cleansing breath.
Boom. An invisible wall burst from within the house, propelling them off the deck and echoing across the canal.
Flames singed Holly’s hair. Heat broiled her skin. The sand rushed up to catch her, and she rolled through it into the cool water. She half expected the lake to start sizzling at her touch. Instead, the waves soothed and cooled.
Footsteps pounded up the opposite side of the deck. A firefighter coming to extinguish the flames? A medic arriving to treat her burns?
Preston gripped her wrist and pulled her out deeper into the lake, then underneath the dock. She wrapped her arms around his neck and floated along. He could be her hero if he wanted. She was safe with him.
Her eyes adjusted to the dim light, and she searched Preston’s face to meet his gaze. She’d been with him under a dock once before. Did he want another moment alone? She opened her mouth to tease him.
Footsteps thudded above just like they had during that game of hide-and-seek when she was sixteen. She smiled softly at the memory. Jake had never found them under the dock. It wasn’t until Preston’s funeral that she’d told her brother of her first kiss. But it wasn’t Jake they were hiding from today. So who was it?
Holly glanced up through the cracks. Brand-new colorful hiking boots. No. She gripped Preston’s shoulders. Why was Caleb still free? If the police had let Preston go, then they should have caught Caleb by now.
Preston raised his right wrist. Handcuffs dangled.
Her eyes bulged. Preston had escaped police custody?
Boards squeaked overhead. Water lapped her body. Her skin chilled. She clung tighter to Preston. Because if she made one noise, they would both be dead.
Caleb cocked his gun. He pointed the barrel up and down the planks above their heads as if listening for movement and trying to decide where to shoot first.
Sirens grew louder. Tires screeched.
Caleb sheathed the weapon inside his windbreaker. “I’m so glad you’re here, Shaw,” Holly’s former fiancé called toward the arriving cops. His footsteps echoed in the space underneath the planks as he strode away.
She exhaled.
Shaw began his line of questioning. “Preston hijacked the helicopter. What happened?”
What was he talking about? Preston hijacked a helicopter?
“Holly started this fire to kill Commander Long’s wife.”
She had not. Caleb had attempted to burn her alive. Her blood boiled as if she were still in the house.
“I tried to stop her, Officer Shaw, but then Preston showed up in the helicopter and made the flames worse. I had to shoot him down so the passengers would be safe, but he ducked out of the way, and I think I accidentally hit the pilot because Preston is the one who landed the thing.”
Caleb might not have killed her, but he’d shot a pilot.
Her insides turned to ice.
“I don’t think he’s seriously injured, though I’ll pay all his medical expenses. The man is a hero.” Caleb’s never-ending lies faded with his retreat.
Preston’s muscles tensed under her touch.
Holly bit her lip. Was Caleb ever going to be stopped? She couldn’t judge others for believing his lies when she’d fallen for his charm as hard as anyone. But it didn’t help their situation.
“That’s not good for us,” she whispered.
“No, it’s not.” Preston’s eyes roved over their underwater sanctuary as he thought. “He knows we’re here. He’s trying to distract the emergency workers so he can come back here alone and finish what he started.”
Holly gripped his shoulders tighter. Would their nightmare ever end? “What do we do?”
Preston pulled her deeper. “We’re going to swim underwater to the next dock before Caleb comes back. And we’ll keep going like that until we get far enough away to escape him.”
Holly nodded. She’d been trying to help by tracking down Mrs. Long, but she’d almost gotten herself killed again, and now both of them were in danger.
She held her breath and submerged herself in the cool water. Preston dived down beside her, pulling her after him when her shoulder threatened to give out. Together, they broke surface under a boat slip owned by the neighbors.
She sucked oxygen before repeating the swim to another dock around the
curve of the peninsula, then across the canal to the docks lining the houses on a different street. They could climb out here without fear of getting caught.
Holly clung to Preston to help slow the shivering. She was too tired to move. And she was too tired to pretend she didn’t want to stay in his arms forever.
His lips dropped to her temple, like a stone skipping across a lake and making ripples with each touch. He must have felt the same way she did. All she had to do was lift her chin to kiss him back. Her toes curled as his nose dropped down to nuzzle her. He was even closer now. Her heart ticked away each excruciating second she waited for his lips to touch hers. Just like it had when they were sixteen.
His mouth covered hers, warming her from the inside. Her hand lifted to cup his face, the rough stubble along his jaw reminding her things had changed since they’d first kissed under a dock.
No, he wasn’t a kid anymore, but being with him brought back the sincerity and innocence of their youth. Would they ever get the chance for a fresh start?
Oh. The newspaper article. She jumped, breaking their connection. Her chest heaved and not just from the way Preston had kissed her breathless. While escaping a burning building, swimming to safety, then experiencing the most romantic moment of her life, she’d forgotten to tell him about the connection with Sergeant Matthew Hayes.
“I have something to tell you.”
He paused a moment before dragging his gaze up from her lips. “You don’t want me to kiss you anymore?”
“No.”
His eyebrows arched toward his hairline.
She laughed at her mistake. “I mean, yes. I do.” Her face burned. When was the last time she’d blushed? He made her feel like a teenager all over again. “But there’s something that’s going to make you want to kiss me even more.”
“I can’t imagine.”
Oh, the distractions. She better spit it out while she could. “I looked up that newspaper article again, and I found a second article in the same paper mentioning Sergeant Hayes.” She explained the connection. “Preston, he’s probably—”
Presumed Dead (Love Inspired Suspense) Page 15