To Deceive Is To Love (Romantic suspense) (10 page)

Ripping the goggles away, she saw a miracle stretched out in front of her. Arable land, fields of it and not a house or car in sight. There was one huge problem that became apparent as she began to descend, using the flaps to control the glide. The boundary of trees, their thick branches swaying menacingly with the wind, were too close. Any time now, they would be ripping into her face and arms, tearing her to shreds. But it was too late to change her mind.

The force of the landing jolted her forward. The seat belt whipped across her middle, her body like a rag doll as the plane careered over the coarse, churned up field left in preparation for plowing next year’s crop. Her eyes widened in terror as the trees rushed for her, the scream frozen in her throat as the plane at last began losing its speed.

Violently, her head flung forward as the nose of the plane dipped down into a gully and struck the mound of earth. Then everything went dark.

****

David was standing by Julie’s desk chatting with Tony when the call came through from Manston.

“Yes, that’s right,” Julie said. “Chantelle Duvall. She left at least three hours ago. No, I haven’t heard anything.”

David snatched the receiver from her. “Who’s this speaking and what’s the problem?” He felt his face pale, the muscles in his cheeks tense. He ignored the concerned look Tony and Julie exchanged at the erupting fury in his voice.

“You mean to say she’s over an hour late and no one has been sent up to look for her? What on earth was she doing flying that death trap in the first place, especially with a faulty radio?” Anger and fear gripped him simultaneously. “I don’t care if there’s a bloody storm where you are.” Placing his hand over the receiver, he barked at Julie to use the other phone and ring any other private airfields in the area, as well as police and hospitals to find out whether a plane had gone down.

Julie looked at Tony, her eyes wide with apprehension.

“It’s all right, love, I’ll help you compile a list of who to contact and you can start ringing them in the order I give you,” Tony said calmly.

“Don’t you think she would have contacted you by now if she had been forced to make a landing elsewhere? She’s no novice. She knows the importance given when a pilot fails to arrive at the destination, especially since you told her the time you needed the plane by.” David felt his frustration growing with every word. “Give me that pilot’s position when he last saw the biplane; there can’t be any others matching that description.” Grabbing a pen and paper, he scribbled down the numbers. “Yes, of course I’m bloody going up, someone has to!” He slammed down the phone and looked up to see Tony’s disapproving look.

“You came on a bit strong to that poor guy. After all, he’s obviously just as concerned as you.”

David was about to retort that he didn’t care about hurting some guy’s feelings when he noticed that even Julie was looking at him warily.

“The other airfields haven’t heard anything,” she hurried to tell him.

His voice softened. “Well, keep trying, Julie, please.” He laced his hands together on the desk as he tried to figure out what to do.

“Still no word.” Tony’s voice broke into his despair. “Look, I don’t know what happened between the two of you.” He placed a hand on David’s shoulder. “You’re not the only brilliant pilot around here. I’ve seen her fly, she’s no novice. Probably she’s made a forced landing somewhere and will be making contact anytime now.”

David’s troubled eyes met Tony’s. “I can’t wait around, hoping. Manston can’t send a search plane for another hour because of the storm and low visibility, the RAF Sea King has been sent to a trawler in trouble off the south coast, so it just leaves us.” He looked questioningly at Tony.

Tony nodded. They spread out maps in front of them and with the help of the latest weather report, charted the storm’s progress. It was calculated that hopefully they would only meet up with the tail end of it as the Westerlies wind system pushed the storm back out to sea. They would circle around and come in from behind. It was a long shot, but knowing of her destination, David guessed she would have come down somewhere between her last sighting and Manston. What he couldn’t understand was why there were no reports of a plane coming down. The area wasn’t exactly uninhabited.

They went up in one of Tony’s planes. Tony flew while David, binoculars resting in his lap, sat anxiously in the copilot’s seat, his lips compressed. They were banking in a southeasterly direction now and meeting up with some turbulence left in the storm’s wake. The plane rocked from side to side, the sleeting rain lashing against the windows. Tony didn’t have to voice his thoughts, his brow creased as the visibility worsened.

David could see the storm far off in the distance. Continuous flashes of bright light backlit huge white thunderheads, shafts of black rain descending from them. The mass of devil’s own clouds, cumulonimbus was like a giant mountain threatening to crush everything in its path. Manston was right, it was one hell of a storm and they were only seeing its tail end. Anyone caught up in it would need guts and a lifetime of experience and even then, there were no guarantees. The crushing thoughts overwhelmed David.

Tony veered the plane through a gap in the clouds, enabling them to stay below and see the ground more clearly. As his friend leveled the plane at a safe height of one thousand feet, David scanned the area below. The binoculars banged against his cheekbones as he tried to steady them.

It was like looking for a needle in a haystack. Rain smeared the windows along with a fine mist that caused the terrain to take on an eerie, uninhabited feeling. Towns and built-up areas were out, so at least that narrowed it down; that was if the plane’s last reported sighting was right. After circling several miles of the same area, David looked at Tony and knew they shared the same despondent thoughts, though neither was prepared to admit it.

Radioing through to Manston, they checked whether any news had been received. The line crackled and broke up. Finally, David got through, but there was no news. No one had heard from Chantelle.

They were flying over some more arable farmland when through the fine mist; David suddenly caught sight of it. “Circle around again,” he snapped. “And this time, follow the line of those trees.”

Tony did as asked, flying adjacent to the line of trees or as close as he could get without putting them in danger.

David drew in a sharp intake of breath. His eyes strained to see past the biplane’s vertical fuselage below and into the cockpit. Twisting his neck back as their plane flew past, his glasses locked onto the nose of the plane crunched up against the bank’s wall.

“Get us down.” David pressed his eyes tightly shut for a second, his body rigid as he said a silent prayer.

The plane bumped and rocked on the sodden ground as Tony struggled to bring it to a standstill.

David threw open the copilot’s door and leapt out.

“You bloody impatient fool,” Tony cursed.

His running slowed as he approached the cockpit fearfully. Relief was instantaneous. The nose had taken most of the damage, the empty pilot’s seat answering his prayer.

Calling out her name, he headed for the trees. He sank ankle deep in mud and rotting leaves as he pushed his way through the thicket. His voice was growing hoarse from shouting when finally he heard a weak voice calling out to him. He spun around and there she was, huddled beneath a large oak, her appearance startling. She was hardly recognizable, her face smeared with mud, just the whites of her eyes showing. The leather jacket she wore was also caked in mud with foliage sticking to it as if she had been buried in the undergrowth. Sodden jeans were ripped at the knees, the skin beneath a dark reddish color.

He knelt down in front of her, his hands gently cupping her face. “Am I glad to see you…” He stopped mid-sentence, his fingers lightly touching her forehead. Closer inspection revealed the dark red discoloration was a mixture of dried blood and mud.

David could only guess what she must have gone through. It looked as if she had dragged herself from the plane over rocks and thick undergrowth to reach some cover. Under a tree in a storm was not an ideal refuge, but it looked as if she’d had little choice. The self-assured woman had been replaced by a vulnerable, wide-eyed, frightened girl. He wanted to gather her up in his arms and hold her close to him; relief had him almost doing just that. His training to never let emotions overcome rational thought stopped him.

A weak smile tilted Chantelle’s lips. “It’s not as bad as it looks. I got in this state falling head first out of the cockpit and then getting from the plane over to here in the storm.”

“Can you stand?”

“Nope, that’s what I mean. I think my ankle is twisted. I can’t put any weight on it.”

“Wait here where there’s shelter. I’ll fetch some blankets.” He glanced up at the thick covering of branches, the autumn leaves not yet ready to abandon their life source as they waved precariously in the wind.

“I’m not going anywhere.” She gave another weak smile, causing his expression to lighten, his lips curving at the edges.

“I thought …” He hesitated as his eyes locked onto hers, the back of his fingers lightly stroking her cheek. The rustling of leaves and heavy footsteps made him turn away from her as Tony came into view.

“Thank goodness.” Tony breathed a huge sigh of relief, but his smile faded slightly as his gaze swept over her injuries. Luckily, he had brought a couple of blankets and the first aid box.

Seeing this, David swiftly pulled down the zipper of her badly soiled jacket, gently pushing it off her shoulders, then down off her arms. The dampness had seeped through to her jumper beneath, and exposure to the air caused her to shiver violently. Stripping off his sheepskin lined leather jacket, he helped her put it on and zipped it up to her neck. “Do you hurt anywhere else?” he asked as he dabbed at her forehead, wetting a handkerchief with his saliva to clean away the mud.

“No, just my head and neck ache slightly,” she murmured. Her gaze lowered from the closeness of his face.

“Did you lose consciousness at all?” he asked like a doctor examining a patient.

“Yes, for a short while, I think. I don’t know how long I’ve been here. The storm has passed by, hasn’t it?”

“Yes. How many fingers do I have up?” He held three fingers up in line with her vision, intense eyes watching her reaction.

“Six.” She smirked at the open consternation in his expression.

His tone turned gently chastising as if speaking to a child. “Chantelle, how many fingers do I have up now?” Only his index finger remained.

“One. Satisfied all my faculties are intact?”

Ignoring her flippancy, he said, “Okay, let’s check the rest of you.” Reaching back, he took one of the blankets from Tony and placed it on the ground next to her. He gently maneuvered her onto it and then his fingers moved up to the fly on her jeans.

Her eyes widened with alarm and her voice found strength. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Getting you out of these sodden jeans. Unless you want to end up with pneumonia.”

“I can do it myself when you get me somewhere dry and private.” She knocked his hand away.

“I’m not moving you until I’ve checked you out and since we’re sheltered here and the plane is a good half a mile away, stop acting like a child.” He was defiant in his tone; his fingers were already back on the fly of her jeans.

Tony gave an embarrassed cough. “I’ll make my way back to the plane and radio through to Manston. Tell them we found her.”

David didn’t reply. He had already unzipped her jeans and was pulling them down over her hips, managing not to take her panties with them. The furious look she was giving him seemed to take all her strength. And then as his hands started to move up and down her naked legs checking the limbs for fractures, she squeezed her eyes shut.

His fingers continued gently examining her anklebones, his feelings competing with his purpose. Her skin felt so smooth and the memory of touching her body in a different way kept surfacing. He avoided looking up into her face and tried to concentrate. Her legs quivered with his touch when he ran his fingers back up her calves and he wasn’t sure it was entirely because of the cold. Quickly, he wrapped the blanket around her legs and gently lifted her up into his arms.