Rising Hope by Edie James
17
Sarah exitedthe house far faster than Enzo would have expected, transformed into Peaches Duvall, complete with sparkly blush, dangly earrings and a stony game face.
The impractical designer clothing made him roll his eyes, but he respected the stoicism.
He probably looked much the same when he got dispatched to rescues. For him, it felt like a steel door slamming down, locking his emotions—and daily life—away so he could focus on the job.
Much as he wanted to know what had Sarah so spooked, he refrained from interrogating her on the way to the drug buy. The rescues he performed were more complicated in some ways, but he didn’t need to play a role. The mental stress must be tremendous. The least he could do was leave her to get her head together.
Any mistake, any slip up, and they’d both be dead.
So he waited until the deal was complete and they were on their way back to their landing spot before he picked at her again.
“That went well,” he said over the headphones. “Ulrich seemed less tense.”
Maybe because he wasn’t an unknown quantity this time. And he’d remembered to keep his hands off the merchandise, letting Ulrich’s men stow the bags in the helo.
Sarah was turned away from him, staring down at the chaparral-covered landscape, steep slopes folded vertically into deep canyons, the earth covered in manzanita and live oak. “Uh huh.”
The flight had been smoother this time, too. The temps in the inland valleys were lower today, creating less of a temperature gradient. Less potential for turbulence.
Between the success of the mission and the easy flight, her stress level should have decreased. Now, how to convince her to talk?
He tried to channel his inner Vivianna. His sister could crack the most stoic introvert.
Sarah came off as a tough loner, but he could see the cracks: the longing in her eyes when she watched the families and couples laughing and joking at the pizzeria, and the way she tensed when Noah pulled Viv in for a kiss. Much as she professed not to believe in anything or anyone, he sensed her need to connect with something bigger than herself.
Which was fine and all, but he couldn’t deny that protecting his family was his main concern. Whatever had her so preoccupied, he deserved to know. He wasn’t going to let her escape until she told him.
He sucked in a deep breath and eased the helo into a gentle, sweeping turn to the west. They were only a few minutes out. Coming in from the ocean side would ease any turbulence.
“We’re ten minutes out,” he told her over the headset. She’d instructed him to let her know when the pickup crew should head toward the landing site.
She nodded and worked her phone.
He waited until she finished. “You said you’d tell me what’s bothering you about the mission.”
She shot him a half-smile. “Nice try. You said I should tell you.”
“Same diff.”
“Uh, no.”
He gave her a long look through the mirrored lenses of his aviator shades, willing her to sense his determination. “You’ve been with the DEA for years. If you’re worried, I’m worried. And I hate to worry.”
She snorted. “Poor baby.”
He sighed dramatically. “Okay then. We’ll do this the hard way.” He pretended to move cyclic.
Her breath was harsh through his headphones. “You wouldn’t.”
He spread his fingers, backing off. “You’re right. I wouldn’t.” Unfortunately. Being honorable sure made things hard at times. “I don’t get how you think I don’t deserve to know. It could mean my life on the line too. And my family’s. That is a no-go situation.”
“It won’t come to that.”
“You can’t know that. I know how criminal organizations operate. Instilling terror is their go-to.”
“This isn’t about the cartel.” She leaned her head back with a groan. “Okay. Fine. It’s probably nothing, but my last pilot, Wenmark, disappeared.”
“What do you mean, disappeared? Are you worried the cartel got him?”
“I don’t think so.” She toyed with her huge hoop earring.
He forced down a grin. Sarah Walker had a tell. She’d fiddled with her earring a couple times now when she didn’t want to reveal something. Satisfaction settled over him. At least he had a way to read her now.
She eyed the gnarled ridgetop. “He supposedly had an emergency appendectomy.”
“That’s what I was told.”
”So why isn’t there a record of him being admitted to any local hospital?”
”Good point.”
They came up on the last ridge they had to pass before the landing zone. He concentrated on flying for a minute. “There are a couple military hospitals along the coast,” he said once he’d guided the helo up and over the knife-edged hill. “I guess it’s possible he could have been flown straight to one of them. They’d be way less likely to give out any patient info than a civilian medical center.”
She squinted out the front windshield. “I have a source high up in the DEA that I trust. He couldn’t dig up a thing.”
He digested that for a minute as he circled the landing site, checking his approach one last time. “Okay, that is weird.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, looking miserable. “I know.”
“But worse than that’s what you’re not saying.”
“How do you mean?”
“What about your supervisors? Chain of command? I don’t know where Halliburton fits into this deal, but he’s clearly in charge of something, and he knows you. How come you don’t feel safe voicing this to him, or one of your direct superiors?”
“Stupid isn’t a good look on an agent,” she said. “I want to have something more substantial to go on before I call attention to this.”
“That’s fair. Still, if I felt as strongly as you do about this, I’d at least run it by my CO.”
She laughed harshly. “My supervisors are not like your CO. Higher ups in the DEA are more isolated from those of us who actually work undercover. They don’t inspire the kind of confidence your commander probably does.”
Lining up the landing took up most of his attention, but he listened hard to her response, trying to get a feel for her tone.
She sounded disappointed. Maybe a little angry. Her story certainly sounded plausible. Working a small station like Piedras Bay offered plenty of opportunity to get to know direct superiors well. He could see how that might not happen in the DEA, where they’d be shuffling undercover agents to far-off destinations for every mission.
Nothing sinister in that.
Landing plan set in his mind, he gave her another look. “I know you want to keep this quiet, but I can look into it. It wouldn’t be hard to ask around about another aviator. If I can’t get anywhere, my brother Rollo has access to resources we couldn’t touch. He’s had the highest security clearances of anyone in the country. Literally. I think we should—”
She put out a hand like a stop sign. “I can’t risk anyone else’s life. This is probably nothing, but if it isn’t…if Wenmark disappeared because he knew something or saw something he shouldn’t, I can’t risk it.”
“Which is why I’m offering to help.” His stomach tightened in frustration, but he tried hard to keep his voice neutral. Going head-to-head with her wouldn’t solve anything.
She squeezed her hands together in her lap, reverting to silence as he eased the collective downward, decreasing their altitude. He took pains to set the aircraft back onto its trailer so lightly she wouldn’t even feel the touch down. A piece of cake, compared to maintaining an exact position over a rescue swimmer in gale-force winds and twenty-foot seas.
He disengaged the rotors and reached across the space between them and put a hand on her arm. “I won’t tell anyone, but you’ve got to let me help. You can trust me.”
She smiled weakly. “I believe you. I’m just not sure I did you any favors by airing my concerns. If what we uncover is as ugly as I suspect, I just put a target on your back.”
The rotors had slowed enough to engage the emergency brake.
“It’s not like there wasn’t already one there. I’m the new guy,” he pointed out as the big blades stilled. “New Guy’s always the first one to die. Check any monster movie ever made.”
That drew a laugh.
“So let me help,” he added, pressing his advantage. “If Wenmark’s still on the Coast Guard roster, it’ll be a cinch.”
She pressed her lips together and looked away. “Okay,” she said softly. “And thank you.”
“I haven’t done anything yet.”
“You’ve done more than you know,” she said cryptically and slid out of the aircraft.
He fingered the cross around his neck. His father gave it to him from his mother’s things. She hadn’t worn it in years, but knowing there’d been a time when it never left her neck made him feel closer to her. And protected, as if he had a talisman against injury and evil.
The injury part he tested on a regular basis. Evil? Not so much. Until now.