Wild Case: A Coastal Caribbean Adventure (Tyson Wild Thriller Book 10) by Tripp Ellis

Author:Tripp Ellis [Ellis, Tripp]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tripp Ellis
Published: 2020-01-05T16:00:00+00:00

20

I needed a cold shower after that. Even though I hadn’t seen her naked, the vision I had created in my mind would dance around in my brain all night long.

Dragonfly texted me with the rendezvous point, and Frankie and I settled in for the evening in our separate beds.

“If you get scared in the middle of the night, you’re welcome to come over to my side,” I said.

Her eyes turned into tiny slits. “Thanks, but that sounds like a nightmare.”

“Suit yourself.” I fluffed my pillow and rolled over.

Frankie stayed up late watching TV. She was the kind of person who liked to fall asleep with the TV on and leave it on during the night. That didn’t bother me. I could sleep either way.

In the morning, we got dressed. I had to cut the strap of Frankie’s tank top to get it over the case, then I used a safety pin to clasp it together. I tried not to ogle her form during the process. But I did take the opportunity to mess with her a little. “You know, you talk during your sleep.“

“I do not!“ she protested.

I could see the uncertainty behind her eyes.

“What did I say?“

“I don’t think you want me to repeat it.“

She rolled her eyes. “You’re lying.“

“Am not. You might want to get a handle on that. You could divulge secrets during your sleep.“

She sneered at me. “I don’t often sleep with the enemy.”

“You snore, too.“

“Now I know you’re lying.“

I shrugged. “How would you know if you snored? You weren't awake.”

“I think I would know,” she said with a sneer.

We ordered breakfast, then headed to the rendezvous point. The designated LZ was the roof of a nearby luxury high-rise. We made our way to the rooftop and waited. There was a clearing just large enough for a helicopter to land.

Before long, I heard the patter of rotor blades overhead, pounding the air into submission. The black helicopter appeared on the horizon and drifted toward us. It glided over the rooftops, growing larger.

Wind swept across the rooftop as the helicopter descended. It was black, with a red stripe down the side and the logo of a tour company on the door.

It was a Bell 407—a single engine, four blade utility helicopter. It was a derivative of the popular 206 and had several civilian and military uses. They quite frequently ended up as tour vehicles, news copters, emergency vehicles, and transports moving offshore oil rig crews to and from the platforms. Developed in the '90s, it had a typical seating capacity of five passengers, a cruising speed of 152 miles an hour, and a range of 372 miles.

The skids touched down on the rooftop, and Dragonfly opened the door with a beaming smile, wearing a loud shirt, proud of delivering a helicopter as promised.

We crouched low and ran across the roof. The rotor blades sliced overhead, and the wash blew Frankie’s hair in all directions. I helped Frankie aboard, then climbed in after her.

Dragonfly introduced the pilot. "This is Andrés.

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