“That’s what your secretary kept insisting. He definitely behaved suspiciously, but that’s also stupid behavior. Suspicions are one thing, proof is another. So far, we don’t have any proof at all, just an anomaly in the fueling records.”
“We’ve already figured that out. Unless the security tapes caught him fooling around with the plane, all the evidence is at the crash site, and retrieving it would be a bitch. The wind’s brutal up there, there’s no way for a chopper to do even a one-skid touchdown. The only way up is on foot.”
“I didn’t know Seth would even know how to sabotage the fuel tank that way,” Bailey said. “He has a vicious temper and despises me, but I never thought he’d try to physically harm me. The last time I talked to him he threatened to kill me, but”—she bit her lip, troubled—“I didn’t believe him. More fool me.”
“The plastic bag in the fuel tank is low tech,” Cam said. “Doesn’t take a lot of skill to do that.”
“That doesn’t, particularly,” agreed MaGuire. “The transponder and the radio, though—he knows his way around a plane a lot better than you think.”
Cam slowly went stiff, his gray eyes turning wintry. “What? What about the transponder?” Bailey gave him a searching look. His voice had changed, to something dark and menacing.
MaGuire turned back to the map. “Right here,” he said, pointing, “just east of Walla Walla, is where you lost your transponder signal. Fifteen minutes later, an FSS picked up a garbled distress transmission, then you dropped off the radar and were gone. If he sabotaged those, too, he was very thorough. He didn’t want the crash site found—or he wanted to delay finding the site until all forensic evidence had eroded.”
Cam stood very still, studying the map. “Son of a bitch,” he said softly.
“An opinion everyone seems to have of him. I hate to say this, but he may get away with it.” MaGuire sighed. “My biggest worry right now isn’t locating the crash site, but your safety, Mrs. Wingate.”
“Bailey’s with me,” said Cam, without looking around. “I’ll take care of her.”
Bailey grimaced at the caveman attitude and told MaGuire, “I intend to let Seth know that we know he tried to kill me, even though we can’t prove it, but that we’ve also told an unspecified someone else, so if he tries again he’ll be at the top of the list of suspects. I can’t think of anything else we can do.”
“I can,” said Cam, his eyes still cold. “MaGuire, any way we can leave for Seattle right away? I want to get this handled now.”
MaGuire’s expression was curious, but all he said was “You sure can.”
THEY LANDED IN Seattle about eight that night, though Bailey had always wondered how you could call it “night” when the sun wouldn’t set for over another hour. Her reserves of strength were still depleted and all she wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep, but she wanted that bed to have Cam in it, and she hadn’t been able to have more than a few words with him since he’d gone so cold and quiet when MaGuire told him all Seth had done.
In a way, that was all right. She was having some cold and quiet moments herself. For Seth to try to kill her, well, it wasn’t okay, but Seth was her burden to bear and it enraged her that he’d so cavalierly counted Cam’s life as of no consequence. Whether or not Cam died, too, simply hadn’t mattered to him.
She was going back to a changed world. She couldn’t just resume her old life as if nothing had happened. Regardless of the agreement she’d made with Jim, she couldn’t deal with Seth any longer. She’d have to be stupid to risk her life and Cam’s life because of an agreement she’d made with someone who was now dead. Someone else would have to manage the trust funds, perhaps one of the officers where Jim had banked. She was adamantly opposed to signing control over to Seth, because she didn’t believe he should be rewarded after what he’d tried to do, but someone else could have the hassle.
They had flown back to Seattle in a plane much the same size as the poor Skylane. Without hesitation, Cam had slid into the copilot’s seat, not even thinking of sitting in back with her, which had made her roll her eyes and smile because that’s what you got with a pilot. Most of them lived and breathed flying, to the point where they were often oblivious to everything else. MaGuire sat in the back with her, and something in his expression told her he’d rather have been in the copilot’s seat but Cam had been faster.
“He’s desperate,” she said, amused. “He hasn’t had his hands on the controls in six days.”
“But it’s my charter,” he said, just a tad sulky in tone. Then he shrugged and gave her a faintly sheepish smile. “I guess I should have expected it, and been faster. Most pilots I know would rather fly than eat.”
She tried to be calm as they neared Seattle, but she was returning to so many changes she had trouble grasping them all, and as always change made her uneasy. She normally didn’t make a major decision until she had thought about it, researched it, prepared for it. If anything in her life changed, she wanted to control the way it happened. Abruptly she had no control, and virtually everything had changed: she would be moving out of that enormous house as fast as she possibly could, and she didn’t care what Seth and Tamzin did with it. She refused to deal with them any longer, which meant she had to find another job.
The biggest change, of course, was Cam. He’d moved so fast she felt like Wile E. Coyote, spinning helplessly in the dust as the Roadrunner raced past him. In less than a week, she’d gone from not liking him at all to loving him; she’d even agreed to marry him. The odd thing was, even though he was the biggest change, he was the one she felt the best about. Once she had gotten over her initial panic, she knew that being with him felt right, in a way nothing else ever had.
As if feeling her thoughts, he looked over his shoulder at her. He’d gotten a pair of sunglasses from somewhere, so she couldn’t see his eyes, but this evidence of the link between them helped settle her nerves as nothing else could have. She wasn’t alone anymore. However else her life changed, Cam would be right there with her.
The plane touched down, the pilot applying the brakes as they rolled down the runway. Bailey leaned forward to look at the terminal, where people were spilling out of the building, through the fence gate and onto the tarmac, where they stood waiting. It wasn’t a large crowd, and from that distance she couldn’t make out individual faces, but she knew Logan and Peaches were there and her heart lightened with pleasure.
As they taxied closer she saw them, Logan with his arm around Peaches, both of them laughing and Peaches jumping up and down a little in excitement. She knew they probably couldn’t see her but she waved anyway. She could make out Bret, too, and Karen, but she didn’t think she knew any of the other people. They might be Cam’s friends and relatives, even though he’d talked to his parents and they’d said they wouldn’t be able to get to Seattle before he did because they were traveling on a commercial airline, and they had to wait for a regularly scheduled flight. Maybe they’d been able to make other arrangements.
The pilot taxied to a stop. Cam unfastened his seat belt and got out. After a quick word with the pilot, so did MaGuire. Then Cam simply reached in and lifted Bailey out, his hands warm on her waist. “How’re you holding up?” he asked as they walked toward the little crowd that was surging impatiently, waiting only until they were a safe distance from the plane before breaking ranks.
“Tired, but okay. You?”
“The same. Brace yourself!” The last was said as they were enveloped. Logan and Peaches grabbed Bailey and she was crushed by hugs from both sides. Peaches was crying, so of course Bailey teared up, too, though she fought it. Logan just held her tight, his arms around both of them, but she could feel him trembling. She caught a glimpse of Cam as he, too, was surrounded by the welcome party. She saw Karen swat him on the chest, as if in punishment for worrying her, then with a grin Cam held out his arms and she burst into tears as she rushed into them.
“You’re so thin,” Peaches was saying as she wiped away her
tears.
“It’s that new diet,” Bailey said. “The Plane Crash diet. Works every time.”
“Are you hungry?” Logan asked, wanting to be able to do something, and getting food fell into that category.
“I’m starving. I think I’ve eaten a ton of food today, but a few minutes after eating I’m hungry again.”
“Then let’s get out of here. We’ll pick up something on the way to your house. I’ll fill you in on what happened with Tamzin, and you can tell us about the crash. I have a million questions.”
Bailey looked around for Cam again. “Not yet. Not without Cam, at any rate. I haven’t even introduced you.”
She could see Logan was reluctant, that he very naturally had reservations about the speed with which she and Cam had become involved, and she patted his arm. “Don’t worry so much. We’re actually on our…twenty-fifth date. Or maybe it’s around the thirtieth date by now, I haven’t done the math. But we know each other a lot better than you think.”
“Thirtieth date? I didn’t know you were dating him at all!” Peaches said in bewilderment as everyone began moving inside. “You never said a word!”
Cam was organizing things, Bailey saw, sending most of the people on their way with thanks for their welcome, saying he had a lot of work he had to catch up on. He wasn’t overt about it but she knew him now, saw the calm but steely air of command that was as natural to him as breathing. Even with his bruised face and bandaged head, he wore authority like a second skin, and people were following his directions without hesitation or really even noticing.
A select few went into the J&L office, though: Bret, Karen, MaGuire. Cam held the door open, his hand extended to Bailey, so she and Logan and Peaches went inside, too. She turned immediately to Cam, introducing her family. He and Logan shook hands, with wariness on Logan’s part, calmness on Cam’s. Despite everything, despite all the bad stuff they still had to handle, Bailey, in that moment, was happy.
BAILEY WAS OKAY, Cam saw. She’d looked so suddenly frail that morning, as if she’d pushed herself until nothing was left, that he hadn’t been able to shake his concern even though food had gone a long way toward reviving her. “Is the coffee fresh?” he asked Karen. He wanted Bailey taken care of before he took care of his other pressing business.
“I just put it on.” Her eyes were still shiny with tears, but she was beaming. “Do you want some?”
Karen was offering to get coffee for him? Maybe he should almost die more often, Cam thought. “In a minute. If you don’t mind, though, make sure Bailey gets something to eat and drink—something out of the snack machine will be fine.”
Karen grinned. “Bailey?” she asked in a low voice, leaning close so no one else would hear. “It isn’t Mrs. Wingate now?”
“She gave me the lion’s share of what food and water we had, to keep me alive,” he said. “And she did without. So, yeah, I call her Bailey now.” That was true, at least for the first day. After that, he’d tried to make damn sure she was eating and drinking as much as he was.
He saw the sudden fierceness in Karen’s eyes and knew she had mentally added Bailey to the list of people she cared about, which meant Bailey would eat if Karen had to sit on her and stuff food down her throat. Considering Bailey had been eating nonstop all day, he didn’t think it would come to that.
He went over to Bailey, touched her arm to get her attention. “I’ll be talking to Bret for a few minutes,” he said.
She gave his fingers a brief squeeze, giving his face the same assessment he’d been giving hers, taking care of him. He supposed that habit would ease after a few days, but right now they were still too close to their ordeal, still in survival mode, which meant taking care of each other.
He caught Bret’s eye, made a brief motion of his head. Bret’s office was closer, so they went in there. Cam closed the door behind them, maybe the first time that door had been closed since they’d started the business.
He turned to his best friend, the man who’d been like a brother to him for years, and said, “Why’d you do it?”
Bret collapsed in his chair, closing his eyes and dropping his head into his hands. His face had aged a lot since Cam had last seen him, taking on lines that hadn’t been there six days ago. “Fuck,” he said wearily. “Money. It was money. My ass is in a big fucking jam, with some badass people—” He broke off, shaking his head. “I knew you’d figure it out. When we got the word this morning that you were alive and had walked out of those damn mountains, I knew. There was no way you wouldn’t have poked around, examined the wreckage, no way you wouldn’t have looked for the reason you went down.”
Cam held his rage under control with an iron will. As much as he wanted to beat the hell out of Bret, literally tear him to pieces, he wanted answers more. Grief was waiting for him, he knew, grief for the loss of the friendship they’d had, but it would have to bide its time. “I thought it was Seth, until MaGuire told me about the transponder and radio. That was way too complicated, too involved, more than he could have done. You overplayed your hand.”
“Yeah, I have a habit of doing that.” Bret lifted his head, the expression in his eyes stark with regret. “It was an impulse. When Seth called that day, I saw a chance, and I was desperate so I took it.”
“How’d you make yourself sick?”
“I’m allergic to cats, remember? I stay away from them, won’t even date a woman who owns one. So I went to an animal shelter, picked a cat up and petted it, rubbed my face against it.”
Cam had known Bret was allergic to cats, had known it for so long he didn’t think about it; Bret was so careful in avoiding them that Cam had never seen him suffering from a reaction until the day he’d taken Bailey’s flight in Bret’s place. Even if he’d immediately thought of cats, he wouldn’t have been suspicious, because allergic reactions happened.
“I didn’t let myself think about it,” Bret said tiredly. “I just did it. It was a way out. The money from your life insurance for the business would have bailed me out of some big-time trouble. It was like…that was all I could think about, getting that money. But when Karen told me the plane was missing, all of a sudden it was real. I’d killed you. I’d murdered my best friend. It hit me, and all I could do was puke my guts out.”
The odd thing was, Cam believed him. Bret was impulsive, tending to focus on short-term goals.
“I thought the plane would burn,” Bret went on. “There’s always a few gallons of unusable fuel left in the tanks. Even if there was some evidence left, I knew Seth would be the one suspected, because of that stupid fucking phone call, but other than that there was nothing to tie him to the plane. I didn’t figure he’d ever be arrested.”
“MaGuire said you’re the one who pointed out that the plane hadn’t taken on enough fuel.”
“Yeah. I thought that if I was the one who pointed it out, no one would suspect me of being the cause.” Bret rubbed his hands over his face, then met Cam’s gaze. “What now?” he asked, standing up. “When I thought you were dead, that I’d murdered you, I did what I could to cover my ass. But you’re too damn good a pilot to die easy, aren’t you? I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry when we got the word. I guess I did both. But I’ll go along with however you want this to play out. I’ll turn myself in, if that’s what you want.”
“That’s what I want.” Cam didn’t bend. There was no going back, no letting years of friendship and good times soften him, because some roads you just couldn’t travel again. “Attempted murder, insurance fraud…you’ll do time.”
“Yeah. If my ass isn’t bumped off before then. Whatever.” Bret had the look of a man who would never forgive himself. That was okay with Cam, because he’d never forgive him, either.
“One thing,” he said.
“What?” asked Bret.
Cam punched him in the face as hard as he could, putting everything he had into it, rage slipping its leash like a cougar attacking. Bret’s head snapped back and he crashed backward into his
chair, overturning it and his wastebasket. He ended up sprawled on the floor amid the scattered trash.
“That’s for almost killing Bailey, too,” said Cam.
OF ALL THE people Bailey had expected to see, Seth Wingate wasn’t one of them. But there he was, standing on the doorstep of his father’s house just before midnight that night.
She was packing—rather, she was searching for what few personal items of hers were left in the house, because Tamzin had emptied out her closet and thrown away all her clothes, as well as anything else she’d known for certain belonged to Bailey. The house had also been trashed. Bailey was so infuriated she was considering calling the police, but she was giving herself time to settle down before she did so.
The past few hours had been a complete upheaval. She still had a hard time accepting that Bret had tried to kill Cam, all for the insurance money, and if she had a hard time getting her mind around it she could just imagine how tough Cam was having it. Bret had seemed to be eaten alive with guilt, but that didn’t change the facts. MaGuire had handled everything, even though he’d been as shell-shocked as everyone else. Bret had willingly gone with MaGuire to the police to turn himself in, but the legalities involved in dissolving the partnership and whether or not Executive Air Limo would survive were still up in the air. If it did survive, it would be simply as Executive Air Limo, because there wouldn’t be any more J&L.
Bailey had some ideas about that, but again she wanted to think things through. She also had to reassess her decision about managing the trust funds, now that she knew Seth hadn’t been the one trying to kill them. On the other hand, once she discovered what Tamzin had done, she wanted to commit murder herself and wash her hands of the both of them. One decision that hadn’t changed was that she didn’t want to spend another night in this house that wasn’t hers.