Tailspin (16 page)

Just to be clear, he leaned close again and spoke in hushed, but deliberate tones.

“I'll dive with you, Sylvie. I wouldn't let you go alone. You have to know that by now. But we're doing this because time is of the essence. And if I'm going to dive that means you're going to fly. We don't have time for the ferry. You're going to get on a plane with me. I have contacts here, so I can probably get us a deal on a plane rental. It'll be faster than flying commercial since I doubt we can get a flight out until early morning anyway.” Will got on his cell to begin his search. Since it was night, he'd have to file a flight plan to fly IFR, using Instrument Flight Rules instead of visual, which is how he usually flew in the bush. No scud running tonight. “We can be in Mountain Cove in a few hours. Get the diving gear we need and I know where we can get a boat. Do we have a deal?”

She paled slightly, but stood taller. Her chest rose with her intake of breath. “Deal.”

That was the Sylvie he knew and had come to care deeply about. Wait. Care deeply about?

“So by this time tomorrow it could be over.” But it was going to be a long night getting there.

Will's cheeks ballooned then he blew out a breath. By tomorrow his credit card could be maxed out, and they would either have succeeded in finding the plane and the thumb drive or they would have failed. He'd know if he had survived diving, but he doubted his heart would survive Sylvie.

So much for being a survivor.

* * *

Here she was, flying with Will again, and in a bush plane, no less. Prop planes were the worst, if you asked her. The little plane rocked and rolled. Puddle-jumpers, they called them, and for good reason. She wished she had it to do over again and try to renegotiate with Will. Her stomach lurched.

Oh, Lord, what was I thinking? Please let us live. Let us survive this.

Hadn't that been her prayer for days now? But at least it seemed to be working so far.

The whir of the props droned on, and the flashing strobe on the wings competed with the flicker of lights below. Eventually, the small plane drifted over a completely dark abyss. They were over water.

“At least they predicted good weather,” she said.

“I always plan it being worse than the forecast.”

“Is that experience talking?”

“Sure is,” Will said. “You might as well get some sleep. It'll be a few hours, and with what we have planned, you need your rest.”

“I don't think I can sleep. This ride isn't exactly smooth.”

“All you have to do is let go. Just let go and trust me. I know that might be hard to do considering our last trip, but those were extenuating circumstances, and I
did
land the plane. I
did
get us to our destination.”

Sylvie wasn't sure that reminder eased her fears. But she certainly couldn't change the outcome by worrying the whole flight. Maybe she should trust Will. Maybe she should let go and trust God. It was time she gave up trying to control the outcome and believe that she really could trust this entire situation—not just flying, but the search for the truth—to God.

“Will you need to stop to fuel up?”

“Yep. But I know my way around, remember? Leave this to me.”

“I trust you, Will. I know you'll get us there.” It felt good and right to say the words to someone. To say those words to Will. She could sense it pleased him, too. She wanted to pull her gaze from the window. Wanted to look at him, but was afraid of what that would do to her at that moment. Afraid of just how much trust she'd put in one person. The emotions he stirred in her battled against her resolve never to trust anyone, especially men, when it came to matters of the heart.

But who was she kidding? She had nothing to worry about. Once this was over and the killers were imprisoned, they would each go their separate ways.

Will would go back to his bush-piloting business.

Sylvie back to her scuba diving.

Even if she trusted him with her heart, could trust him to be true to a committed relationship, they were just too different to make it work. She closed her eyes, willing herself to drift to sleep amid tumultuous emotions the letter had stirred, confirming the very thing she'd wanted to disprove—that her stepfather had killed her mother. That he was not only guilty of orchestrating her murder, but also of trying to kill Sylvie to prevent her from discovering the truth.

She thought she was going to be sick. How could she sleep with so much riding on her finding the thumb drive? With so much twisting around her throat and choking off her air.

And at that moment she struggled to breathe. She was strapped in the seat belt and couldn't free herself as Will's plane sank deeper and deeper. Bubbles escaped her nose and she looked to her left. Will was in his seat, his eyes closed.

“Will!” She shook him but he wouldn't wake up.

She couldn't save him if she couldn't free herself first. Finally, she unlatched the seat belt—only her stepfather was on the other side of Will pulling him out of the plane. Then her mother was in the water. Alive and in the water, fighting Damon.

Sylvie's lungs screamed. She had to get air or she would drown. She fought her way to the surface, but Diverman was always there pulling her back down. She fought him but she'd already been beneath the water's surface far too long.

She would die. They would all die.

Releasing her last breath, she yelled into the water.

Sylvie fought the arms that gripped her. Shook her until her eyes opened. Will's face filled her vision as she sucked in a breath. But she was back in her seat, strapped in. Sylvie fought to disentangle herself from the straps.

“Sylvie, calm down.” Will tightened his grip. “It's all right. You were dreaming.”

Her brain finally caught up with her panic and she slowed her breathing. “I thought I was drowning. We crashed again, in the water like before. Only this time we sank.”

“Well, then, you'll be glad to know that we have safely landed in Mountain Cove.”

She relaxed back in the seat. “I don't want to fly again, Will. Don't make me.”

“Your dream was about drowning not flying.” He tucked in his chin. “Maybe we shouldn't dive tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Oh, that's right. It was the middle of the night. “I forgot we have to wait until morning to get the equipment we need.”

Sylvie feared she wouldn't make it to the downed plane first. She had the keen sense she was on a race to the thumb drive, if she already wasn't too late. She was on a mad rush to save her own life by destroying her stepfather's.

“Relax, Sylvie. There's virtually no way Diverman can beat us there. I've made a lot of friends in this business. I do favors for them. They do favors for me. A few phone calls should get us into the local dive shop to get the gear we need.”

“But I don't want to involve anyone else in this. I don't want anyone else to get hurt. No one can know what we're doing. That is, until it's over.”

“Don't worry. If people want me to keep their secrets, as in some of the outrageous packages I've picked up or delivered, then they'll have to keep mine. I think we should let your half siblings know what we're doing, though. Let Chief Winters know, too.”

“Only if you think he won't try to stop me, or tell me not to go.” By the look on Will's face, he couldn't promise her that. “Will, you understand everything is at stake here. Our
lives
are at stake if we don't find the one thing that can put these men away. We can't let them get to the evidence first. They won't wait for Chief Winters or the AST to act.”

Will frowned and exited the plane.

Exhaustion and guilt weighed heavily on Sylvie and she almost succumbed to the paralyzing effects, remaining in the seat until Will opened the door on her side and assisted her out. The dream—more of a nightmare—had zapped her reserves.

Will steadied her on her feet. Would she be stronger if Will wasn't here to help her? Was she leaning on him too much, something she never wanted to do? She wasn't sure, but she decided to simply be grateful. What kind of person went to the lengths he'd gone to help her? But it was about his mother, too. She couldn't forget that. And he wasn't helping just her. He was helping himself, as well.

Would they even survive?

SEVENTEEN

T
he sunrise eclipsed the fears that had driven him mad during the night and finally awakened him. He steered the cruiser over the water to the remote part of southeast Alaska where he'd first come across Sylvie, running for her life.

He almost turned the boat around a thousand times. Finding the information that would answer their questions and set them both free could also end their lives if their attackers found them here again. But Sylvie would never stop.

And neither would he.

It wasn't enough that they had the letter her mother had written. It wasn't enough that someone had tried to kill her and they could identify the assailants if they were ever caught. Convincing the authorities to take action would take too long. They needed the thumb drive in their hands, though that hadn't done her mother much good.

Awestruck at the golden sunrise shimmering off the clouds and splaying across the water, Will allowed himself to soak up the peace he always felt at seeing it—and as wonderful as it was here on the boat and open water, it was even more majestic from the air on an early-morning flight.

They were almost to the island, and the channel, where it had started. Will stopped the boat and let it drift while he soaked up the moment. Since he'd flown them to Mountain Cove, he'd let her drive the boat a few hours, and she'd made good time even driving slower to compensate for boating at night. But he hadn't been able to sleep more than a couple of hours and had soon relieved her at the helm. She'd fallen asleep and he'd let her rest a little longer.

He wanted to be sure they were completely alone before they made the dive of their lives.

Then he sensed Sylvie's light-footed approach. When she stood silently next to him, he suspected she wasn't contemplating her next words this time, but instead basked in the glory of dawn, as well.

After everything they had been through together—facing death head-on—Will couldn't help himself. He didn't fight it this time, or berate himself, but did what was only natural and slid his arm around her waist.

Sylvie leaned into him as though there was something more between them. Will knew there couldn't be. He sensed that he and Sylvie were in agreement on that. Then what was going on? Was she as confused as he was?

He couldn't deny there was more between them, more than a physical connection, and there was definitely chemistry. As he held her close, watching the sunrise, Will thought Sylvie could be the one to help him forget the past.

But no, that was wrong. Will didn't want to forget the past. Keeping the past, carrying it around with him, was just the protection he needed. That way, he would never again get hurt.

Except equally as painful was the thought of extricating himself from his involvement with Sylvie. He didn't want to do that, either, but the next few hours would be all or nothing for them both.

Bile rose in his throat so that he could no longer ignore the fear he'd tried to push down.

Sylvie stiffened and inched away. “Listen, Will. You don't need to dive with me, okay? I'm an instructor, a master diver, so I do this all the time. And I've been on search and rescue recoveries.”

Will heard what she did not say about finding the victims of a downed plane. Did he really want to see his mother that way—after two months underwater? He shoved those thoughts aside. “I'm going, Sylvie. I'll admit, it's been a while, but it's like riding a bike. And—” Will reached up and brushed a strand of her hair back “—I trust you to lead the way. I'm not letting you go alone.”

“But someone needs to watch the boat to make sure that the same thing doesn't happen again.”

“If Diverman shows up on his boat, I don't want you down there alone. We do this together. If it comes to that, we'll escape together. You need someone to watch your back down there where it matters most.”

Will eyed the horizon, hoping the backup he'd called for would come in time. He hadn't wanted to alert Sylvie to his actions because knowing her, she'd lose Will and attempt to go it alone, believing she was protecting him and any others from getting hurt.

While securing their diving equipment and boat, even though it was during odd hours of the night, Will had texted both David Warren and Chief Winters, informing them of their actions, and that they had no time to delay.

He couldn't live with himself if something happened to her and no one knew where they were, if no help came in time to save her. Maybe help wouldn't be necessary. There were no guarantees this dive would lead them to the plane or the thumb drive, and he could be calling in friends for nothing. But there were no guarantees Will's backup would show up in time to help, if needed, either.

“We should get going. I'll circle the island and make sure we're well alone before we dive.” Will steered the boat around the island, watching in the distance for other boats. For the enemy. He'd considered taking a floatplane here. It would have been faster, but cumbersome to get into the dry suits, and they needed the boat to warm up after diving in the cold water. Needed a warm shower. It wasn't practical or safe to stay long in these cold waters, even with the proper gear.

“You never told me what happened to you. Why you no longer dive. You said your father died?”

He took his time to answer, steering toward the island, scanning the horizon. Sylvie stood next to him, peering through binoculars. For just a second he squeezed his eyes shut, and that was all it took. Visions of his father slammed him.

“Will?”

“I'm getting to it.”

He shook his head and focused. He had to stay on task here.

“Okay, I'm sorry I asked. If you don't want to talk about it, maybe now isn't the time.”

“I'm good.” Will punched it, speeding around the island. Searching the area for any suspicious activity. Someone waiting for them. Like Sylvie, he sensed they were in a race against the clock.

“My father loved to fly and brought Mom out here from Montana to build a bush pilot business. He also loved to climb and dive, and he served as a volunteer search and rescue diver, too.” Like Sylvie. His father had been a lot like Sylvie. He didn't look at her, though, just watched the water as he spoke. “He was on a recovery dive. A sunken vessel and...there were bodies to recover.”

Will wasn't sure this was the time to talk about it, after all.

“He was only forty-five when he died. He was on a recovery dive that was supposed to be a bounce dive. Two hundred feet.”

“Deep and cold.” Sylvie nodded her understanding.

“Did the martini effect, nitrogen narcosis, get to him? Scramble his brain like he was drunk? Don't know. But at that many atmospheres down, it's easy to see how it could happen. Even experienced as he was, he somehow got trapped in the sunken vessel, and the other divers couldn't find him at first. You can't see your hand, barely a flashlight, in front of your face at that depth. When they found him it was too late. What I can't figure is how someone could be down there in the deep, just to help others and end up dying, too. It doesn't make sense. I never wanted to get in the water again. My only use for it is to land my seaplane.”

“I'm so sorry,” she said. “Sometimes we can do everything right and people still die.”

He didn't want to think about those words with what they were about to face. “We need to talk about this.”

“You mean, what it will be like if we actually find the plane? I've been on recoveries, Will, but I admit, the thought of finding my mother twists my insides. When I determined to find the plane, I hadn't any intention of getting closer, only to note the location and report it to the authorities. But then Diverman showed up and changed my game plans. Are you going to be able to handle this?”

“Are you?” he asked. “We're going in for one thing only. The thumb drive that will bring justice for our mothers and end the threat on your life. Our lives. Let's agree that we won't look at the bodies. We'll get the drive and get out.”

“And get as far away as we can from this place. I don't want to face off with Diverman or his accomplice again. The next time I see him, I want him and Rifleman to be in a lineup.”

Sylvie directed him to where she'd anchored before. They would start there in their search. She checked their tanks and equipment while Will secured the boat. She then gave him a quick review to refresh his skills.

Where was their backup? If anything happened to Sylvie, they would never forgive Will. Not that that would matter. He would likely be dead already because he would give his life to make sure that Sylvie lived. After they layered and geared up to look like aliens, they hung over the port gunwale, ready to drop backward into the water.

This was the only reason he would ever dive again.

He had to make sure that Sylvie lived.

* * *

Despite her experience, Sylvie had never been more nervous in her life. She readied the mask, holding it over her head, and eyed Will, searching for any sign of fear in his warm eyes. Any reason at all to object to him coming along. He'd already donned his mask and watched her.

“Ready?” she asked.

“As I'll ever be.” He winked then thrust the regulator into his mouth before rolling back into the cold water.

Once she joined him, she watched him for signs of panic then gave him a thumbs-up. He reciprocated. From here on out, they'd have to communicate with hand signals. She dove beneath the surface and flutter-kicked. The water was only about twenty feet deep here but would get deeper. She was aware of the currents and underwater topography in the area.

Will was next to her, and it felt good and right. Side by side they headed toward the place where she'd seen the glint of metal, what could have been the lost plane.

Or part of it.
Sylvie's heart jumped. She didn't like to think about what they might find. She'd been on enough tragic recoveries. Some couldn't stomach it.

Visibility was between thirty and forty feet. She would have preferred eighty but not the colder waters of winter that would provide it. Following the same path she'd taken the first time, she pushed them north from the island, searching for the remnants of that shipwreck turned artificial reef. It was just beyond that reef where she'd seen the glint.

The reef came into view. She lingered there for a moment so she and Will could take in the abundance of sea creatures, starfish and anemones. Will pointed at the giant tube worms. Sylvie wished this could have been a joy dive with Will, exploring the sea life for the simple pleasure of it. She doubted she could ever get Will to join her for something like that. It cost him to come with her as it was.

Their relationship had been forged out of necessity and a common goal. Should she even call it a relationship? Why was she thinking about a long-term future with Will? She shook off the thoughts and surged ahead, but then slowed and turned to check on him. She couldn't forget he hadn't been diving in too many years. Common sense, along with her years as an instructor, warned her he shouldn't be in the water with her. But technically, she could offer no reason, even though there was a great abyss between certified and prepared. He was certified, and that was that.

She had to stop thinking about him and focus on the area she thought she'd spotted part of a plane.

And there it was...the wing of a small plane. Sylvie almost gasped at the sight.

Breathe. Steady and even
.

Will's eyes grew wide. Did he recognize the wing? Could this be part of the plane that went down?

He swam closer to examine it. When he glanced back at her, his features were grim behind the mask. He gave a subtle nod. Sylvie took that to mean that this could be the wing from his mother's plane. So it had broken apart on impact? Or...had there been an explosion? Was that what caused the crash?

Sylvie couldn't stand to think of that possibility, or of what they might find.

Of what they wouldn't find.

The wing was here, but the plane could be much farther, and could be spread in pieces. She would look for a scatter pattern. If the fuselage wasn't intact, that meant they might never find the bodies.

Or the thumb drive.

Her heart rate accelerated. Maybe she wasn't the right one for this task, but she and Will were the only ones. She swam forward and floated next to the sheer wall of a deep crevasse. More sea anemones clung to the wall, and down much deeper, eighty feet or so, Sylvie guessed the plane might rest. It could be spread out, or have tumbled a few hundred more feet from the wing.

She thought she might get sick. Throw up. Now wasn't the time to think of her mother's terror. Sylvie couldn't afford to lose it. She couldn't let herself crumple or let racking sobs take over. She steeled herself, imagining this was just another recovery dive. But she'd only thought she had nerves of steel, as Will had said.

She had no choice but to see this through. She glanced at her dive watch, the computer relaying time and temperature, complete with a tissue-loading graph, to reassure her they had time to search and time enough to ascend. Then she signaled to Will.

They were going deeper.

Sylvie guessed at the trajectory and swam toward where the remainder of the plane could rest. Why was the plane here, so far off track, when it had been headed to Mountain Cove?

Sylvie turned to make sure Will followed her and spotted him about ten feet away. Her heart palpitated at the distance between them. They had to stick together. He turned to look at her and then pointed. She glanced to where he gestured, but couldn't see what had drawn his attention. Sylvie swam toward him, planning to close the distance, but he swam ahead of her, leading her on.

Something told her that he'd found the downed plane.

God, I'm not ready for this. Help me!

Will paused and turned back to face her, features pale behind the mask. There was something behind his brown eyes now that was far from warm. Sylvie never wanted to see that look in his eyes again. She closed the distance. Could just make out a small craft cresting on the edge of an even deeper crevasse. The fuselage was intact, but slightly twisted.