The Eleventh Hour by Wendy Etherington

Author:Wendy Etherington
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

7

“I LOST HIM.”

The dreaded words slid through Laine’s headset with a tone of defeat she’d never heard from Steve before. Her heart broke for him.

“And I picked a hell of a time to leave my gun at home,” Cara said. “We saw him get onto an ATV, then lost him in the trees. Can you land?” she asked the pilot.

“Not between those trees and the ridge. He’d need to hike a couple of miles.”

“Hike?” Laine said, incredulous. “No way.” Steve had jumped down there without a thought to his safety or the risk of chasing a possible arsonist, who could be armed with anything. He shouldn’t have to hike back to them.

“I agree,” Cara said. “Move a little farther away from the trees, and we’ll drop the ladder.”

“Thanks,” Steve said, still sounding out of breath. “I’m not in the mood for a hike.”

It was an odd sensation, Laine reflected, hearing his voice in her ears as if he were right next to her, but seeing his tiny figure many feet below them. She could have touched him minutes ago, then he was gone. Memories of rushing to the emergency room where Steve had been taken for smoke-inhalation treatment flashed through her mind.

She’d imagined him doing things like jumping from helicopters, but the reality was much worse. Would she ever close her eyes again and not relive the moment he’d disappeared over the edge? She somehow doubted it.

She was no better equipped to deal with his job now than she had been seven years ago.

“He’ll need a hand up,” Cara said through the headset before slipping it off. She unhooked her seat belt. “Can you reach a harness?” she shouted over the engine noise as she braced herself between her seat and the captain’s.

“Nothing like this ever happened during the Rose Bowl Parade.”

“The what?”

“Never mind.” Laine set aside her camera, which Cara had asked her to use to record the running suspect, then stripped off her own headset and seat belt. Kneeling in her seat, she turned and grabbed a pile of ropes, a ladder and a harness, passing them back to Cara. She tried not to think about the open door and how just a slight tip of the chopper might send both her and Cara plunging to the ground.

When she started to put on a harness, Cara said, “Get back in your seat. I’ve got it from here.”

“You’re an arson investigator, not a smoke jumper,” Laine said over her shoulder. She didn’t want to insult her friend, but neither did she want her risking herself unnecessarily.

“I still do swift-water rescue training every spring. I’ll be fine.”

Laine buckled her belts. She felt lousy for her fear and completely out of her element. “Great. I’ll just do what I always do—watch and record.”

She reached for her camera and focused her lens on the edge of Cara’s body, to her hand held out to the bright blue sky, her feet braced at the edge of the helicopter.

Laine held her breath, visualizing the moment Steve’s head would appear.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.