16

Tessa didn’t have to look down at the cockpit control panel to know they were screwed. Well and truly. She could smell oil burning, and from the spongy way the pedals felt, it would be a close contest between what failed next, the engine or the rudder control.

She had seconds to get their bird down before shit got real.

Tessa didn’t even have time to send out a mayday. Smoke started filling the cockpit. She coughed as she shoved down on the collective and banked for a tiny scrap of bare ground among a forest of tall pines. Having not flown a Robinson before, she didn’t have a good feel for her rotor clearance, but it was going to be tight, and the downdrafts on the backside of the ridge would surely be a bitch.

At least no one was shooting at them anymore.

Sweat dripped down her back and into her eyes as the Robinson bucked and yawed. When their altitude reached twenty-five feet, she lost all rudder control and started to spin, then the downdraft caught the weakened bird in its meaty grip and slammed them into the ground.

The rotors chewed through rocks and tree limbs, the sheering of metal deafening. The right side of her head ricocheted off the door, and her world went black.

“Tessa. Tessa. Wake up.” Gil patted her cheek, which hurt like hell, but her mouth refused to work to tell him to knock it off.

She managed a grunt, but opening her eyes seemed an impossibility. Then Gil opened one of her eyes for her, and she yanked her head away from the brightness. The motion made her head spin faster than the rotors had been. Finally, she managed to squint up at him.

It was quiet. Very, very, quiet.

The engine had stalled, and she could hear the ticking of the hot metal as it cooled, the call of a bird in a tree, the buzz of a fly near her ear.

The smell of smoke and avgas mixed as the fuel leaked from the tank or a split in a line. They had to get out of there, but her arms felt thick and too unwieldy to move.

“There you are,” Gil said. “Wake up, sleepy head, we gotta get the hell outta here.”

His hands roamed her body. “Where are you hurt?”

She grimaced when his hand pressed on the goose egg on the side of her head. The lower half of her right leg felt like it was on fire, but before she could get her voice, Gil’s hand ran down her leg.

Pulses of pain licked up her leg, shot up her spine, and bombarded her brain. She screamed and pounded her head on the back of her seat to distract herself or knock herself out. At that point, she didn’t care which.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hang tight,” Gil said, clasping the sides of her head to keep her from moving. “We’ve got a situation.”

The smoke got thicker and blacker, rolling out the front of the cockpit where the windshield used to be. The soot coated the back of Tessa’s throat and seized her lungs. Her diaphragm spasmed and a coughing fit wracked her body. “G-get out.”

“That’s the plan,” Gil said, his voice as thick as the smoke. “But first we gotta get your leg clear. There’s a metal rod sticking through your right calf.”

“Gil…” They didn’t have that kind of time. The helo could explode at any second. Gil had time to get clear if he ran. Now. “Gil…”

“Hang on.”

He stripped off his belt. Tessa grabbed the front of his shirt and gave him a shake. “Go. That’s an order.”

“Not a chance.” His face was grim but determined.

He ran his belt below her knee and yanked it tight. Then he reached down by her leg and said, “On the count of three, ready?” Gil didn’t give her the chance to nod before he started counting. “One—”

Pain soared up her leg. She’d expected him to pull the rod out on the count of two, but he didn’t even give her that. She opened her mouth to scream, then the blackness blindsided her.

She woke to the sound of an explosion, and her body thrown down on a bed of rocks. Gil landed on top of her like her own personal blood and bone shield. She couldn’t breathe, and it wasn’t from the smoke.

She shoved at his chest. “Gil, you okay?”

He groaned and shifted, bracing his weight on his arms as he looked down at her. There was a cut over his left eye, and an abrasion scoring his left cheek. “All I can say is that, after your ex, a relationship with me looks like a no-brainer.”

“You could say that again.” Tessa laughed. It was either that or cry, and she didn’t have time for that. Her head hurt, her ears rang, and her world got a little fuzzy again. She swiped at the moisture on her cheek.

Gil stared at her like she was something beautiful and rare, like the Hope diamond and the Star of India combined. How could he look at her like that when he’d almost died because of her? “I told you to go.”

“I don’t take orders from you.”

Tessa scowled. “Because I’m a woman?”

“Because the last time I checked, you were on suspension, and even if you hadn’t been, you’re not even in my chain of command.”

She reached a hand behind his neck and brought his lips to hers. “Lucky for me, then.”

Gil glanced over at the burning wreckage and the black cloud blooming higher and higher as more and more trees caught fire. The summer had been exceedingly dry, the whole forest was like a box of TNT left in in the hands of a clumsy kid with a match fetish.

“We need to get downwind and find a clearing in case a search and rescue is sent in.”

“What about those guys who were shooting at us?”

“It’s a long hike around that ridge to the crash site. I’m hoping they’re too unmotivated to come around and make sure we’re dead. With a smoke plume that size, hopefully, one of the fire watch towers will see it and call it in. But first, we need to wrap that leg. We can’t keep the tourniquet on for too long.”

With a hand, Gil helped her sit. He stripped off his tie and dress shirt and used his pocket knife to cut it into thin strips. A bruise was blooming over his left shoulder, but otherwise, he seemed in good shape for surviving a crash. They were both damn lucky.

He bound the wound tightly, and she tried not to scream like a two-year-old who’d lost her favorite binky. She was mostly successful, but she’d be lying if she didn’t say it hurt like a bitch. That adrenaline dump was no longer dulling her pain. The only thing the adrenaline was doing was making her hands shake, and her teeth rattle.

When he’d finished binding his shirt to her leg with his tie, he said, “Okay, loosen the belt. Slowly.”

Her lower leg was already numb from the tourniquet. She loosened the belt a little at a time. The blood flowed in and the wound pulsed with every rapid beat of her heart. Then came the pins and needles as her nerves started regaining function.

“How’s it look?” Tessa said, almost afraid to look down. It wasn’t that the sight of blood bothered her, it was the thought that if they couldn’t control the bleeding, they would have to reapply the tourniquet that scared her. The likelihood of a rescue anytime soon was slim, and you couldn’t keep a tourniquet on too long without risking permanent damage.

A pregnancy would only keep her out of the sky for a short period of time. If she lost her right leg… she couldn’t even think about that.

“Seems to be holding.” They were close enough to the crash site that ash and embers rained all around them. Gil glanced up at the ridge nearby ridge. “You up for a stroll?”

She followed his gaze. The climb would be steep, and with the number of rocks and the stretch of scree field, damn slippery as well. As much as she wanted to tell him to go without her, it was too dangerous to stay. “Thought you’d never ask.”

Gil stood and gave her a hand up. Gingerly, she added weight to her leg. It hurt. Damn, it hurt. Fortunately, no bones were broken. If they took it slow, she could do it.

It took them about twenty hours to make the ridge. Okay. Maybe that was an exaggeration since if she used the movement of the sun as a guide, it was probably no more than an hour. Her throat was so dry it made a clicking sound every time she swallowed, and her muscles ached like she’d gone on a twenty-klick ruck march, and she didn’t even want to think about her right calf. They weren’t on speaking terms anymore.

Her breathing came fast, and her heart thumped a hard, steady rhythm in her chest. She plopped down on a rock below the top of the ridge.

“Wait here,” Gil said, “I’m going to make sure no one’s coming around on foot.” He wasn’t going to get an argument from her. “You going to be okay here?”

“As long as I don’t have to move from my favorite rock, I’m good. I’ve gotten very attached to him.”

Her forehead was grimy and sweat-stained. It didn’t keep Gil from pressing a kiss there. If she’d had any doubts that his profession of love was real, she didn’t anymore. “Holler if you need me. I’ll check your leg when I get back.”

Gil hid behind a large boulder at the top of the ridge. Down below he had a good view of the crash site and the growing fire. With the mild breeze, it wasn’t spreading as fast as he’d feared it would, considering the dry conditions.

After fifteen to twenty minutes, he relaxed a fraction, having seen no movement down below from the shooters. They had to have known a fire like that would attract first responders, and they’d beat tracks back to whatever rock they’d crawled out from under.

The soreness had already started to settle into his body as he climbed down to Tessa. Every muscle ached from the impact, and his ears rang as if he’d stood next to the speakers at a heavy metal concert all night.

When he got to Tessa, she was laid out on a flat rock, her right leg propped and raised high against another rock. He jumped down beside her, landing harder than he should have, jarring his already battered body.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

She had her arm flung over her eyes, and she didn’t bother moving it. “Like my helo crashed and someone pulled a rod out of my leg on the count of one instead of three.” Her voice was thick with accusation, and a smattering of dry humor.

“I figured you knew I would pull on two, so…” He let the rest of his sentence drift off, and he shrugged, even though she couldn’t see it. “Thought it might hurt less if—”

“It didn’t.” She dropped her arm and propped herself up on her elbows. “See anybody?”

“No activity. Also, no planes or helos or any other kind of help either. We’re pretty remote. We could be here a while.”

“A least we have a good fire to keep us warm.”

He barked out a laugh and sat down, placing her injured leg over his lap. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

Her smile fell flat before it went anywhere close to her eyes. “Not incredible enough to have figured out Bradley was trying to get rid of us permanently and not temporarily.”

“Hey, hey, now.” Gil made sure the bandage wasn’t too tight. There was some fresh blood on the bandage, though the bleeding was well controlled. “No one saw that coming. I didn’t think he would be bold enough—”

“Or dumb enough—”

“Or dumb enough,” he allowed, “to try that. Martin could feel the noose tightening, he was getting desperate and—”

“What about Jack? Do you think—” Tessa’s voice cracked, and Gil just shook his head because the sudden knot in his throat paralyzed his vocal cords.

Gil swallowed hard. “There’s a big difference between getting us out of the way and hurting Jack. He’s a kid. Martin’s kid. No matter how indifferent he comes across, I agree with what you said, I don’t think he would hurt him. This,” he waved his hand in the general direction of the crash, “doesn’t change that.” At least he hoped like hell it didn’t.

For Tessa’s sake.

For his sake.

For Jack’s.

Another thirty or forty minutes passed before the first spotter plane flew over the fire. Another thirty after that before the first aerial drop of fire retardant. Another hour at least before a rescue helicopter spotted Gil standing on the ridge. A basket was dropped, and they were hoisted up one at a time.

In the air, the team attended to Tessa’s leg and even applied a couple of steri-strips to the cut along Gil’s left eyebrow. Someone came up with an extra T-shirt and offered it to him. When they landed, one of the medics let Gil borrow his cell phone, and he called Spinks.

“You sure you’re both okay?” Spinks asked after Gil had relayed the events of the crash.

“We’ll live.” But right then, Gil was more concerned about Jack than themselves. “Can you put some agents on the house?”

“I’ll do what I can. We’re stretched thin. The shipment went out by truck not train like we’d anticipated. They scattered on the roadways, we’ve already lost sight of two of them. Everyone is scrambling.”

“You gotta get us back there. Send a plane or a helo—”

“I can’t spare the manpower right now. You’ll have to manage on your end.”

“That’s at least a six or seven-hour drive, we don’t—”

“I gotta go, the head of the CIA’s on the line,” Spinks said. “Let me know when you get here.”

Gil reared his arm back, but the medic caught his wrist before he could throw the phone. “Hey, there buddy.”

Gil let the phone get stripped out of his hand. “Sorry.” He was too caught up in his own problems to sound sincere. He’d lost his wallet along the way. They couldn’t rent a car if they wanted to. “Any chance your crew could get us back to Murdock?”

“Murdock?” The young medic squinted as if trying to place where Murdock was.

“Wyoming,” Tessa said. “Outside Alpine. It’s urgent.”

“I’ll talk to the chief, but no promises.”

Getting back to Murdock was some twisted take on Planes, Trains, and Automobiles. In the end, it took four hours, one search and rescue helo, one single prop plane, and Boomer meeting her and Gil at the Murdock airport with a truck to get close to where they needed to be.

Boomer climbed out of the truck’s cab. Followed by Hank, who was on the phone trying to placate Mac, unsuccessfully. Tessa could hear Mac cussing over the phone. From what Boomer said, Hank had practically had to tie Mac to a tree to keep her from coming along.

At the far end of the runway, one of the hanger doors opened, and a six-seater commuter plane appeared.

“We’re here,” Hank said into the phone. “I don’t like it any more than you. If it wasn’t for the kid, there’s no one I’d rather have here with me.” He was quiet for a minute as Mac spoke. Though Tessa couldn’t make out the words, Mac must have calmed down considerably because Tessa couldn’t hear her anymore. “Will do. We gotta go, Army. I’ll keep you updated.”

Army. Even though Mac was a Marine through and through, Sidney had once told Tessa how Hank’s term of endearment had stuck. He pocketed the phone and pulled Tessa in for a quick hug and held his hand out to Gil.

“What do you need us to do.” Boomer was decked out in jeans and boots, but she didn’t miss the holstered Glock at his side. Hank had come similarly armed as well.

“Please tell me you’ve got a couple of spares.” Gil pointed to the guns.

“We’re going to have to make do with these for side arms,” Boomer said, “Though Hank’s got a .30-06, hanging in the truck.”

“What’s the plan?” This from Hank.

“Bradley has been keeping Jack locked in his room. With the shipment going out today, I’m hoping he left him there to keep him out of the way,” Tessa said.

“Most of his men will likely be with the shipment,” Gil said. “There should be minimal security at the house. But I don’t want to tip our hand by driving right up. There’s an old ranch road on the west side of the property. We can get within about a mile of the house and we’ll have to hike in from there.”

Boomer turned to Tessa. “Your leg up for that.”

She appreciated that he didn’t try to talk her out of going. It would be wasted breath anyway. She felt every heartbeat in her leg. Every step felt like some psycho was jabbing a stake through the muscle and enjoying every second of it. The thought of walking again made her wince with pain. “Not a problem.”

“Look, if you need—” Tessa leveled a hard stare that shut Hank up.

“What I need is my son.”

“Roger that,” Boomer said.

They piled back into the truck. Gil grabbed the Remington 700 from the rifle rack above the rear seats and made sure it was loaded and a round was chambered. They peeled out of the airport and Boomer stomped on the gas as they raced toward Bradley’s mansion.

“Have you called your ex?” Hank asked as they cleared the airport property.

“He thinks we’re dead,” Tessa said. “I think that gives us an advantage.”

Boomer said, “Unless Jack’s not at the house.”

“According to Spinks, no one has come or gone from the house since we told him about Jack and they put a guy on surveillance.”

“But how much time had elapsed since you left this morning to the time Spinks had a man on location?”

Tessa thought about it. Before she could say anything, Gil said, “Too long.” His voice was grim, and Tessa’s heart tumbled. There was a good chance Jack wasn’t even at the house anymore.

Hank reached into his pocket and handed Tessa his phone. “Try calling him. Knowing you guys were onto him, Martin would have to be a special kind of idiot to stay at the house once the shipment has gone out.”

Tessa took the phone and punched in Bradley’s number. Her finger hovered over the green call button, then she pressed it. The phone picked up on the fourth ring.”

“Martin.” Clip and short, Bradley sounded all business. With her using Hank’s phone, he wouldn’t have recognized the number.

In the background, she heard Jack’s voice. Tessa swallowed hard and held a hand over her sternum to keep her heart from kicking through her chest. She couldn’t make out what her son was saying, but at least he didn’t sound distressed. More importantly, he was alive.

“Hello?” Bradley said.

The first thing to tumble out of her mouth was, “You tried to have me killed.”

There was a beat of silence on the other end. She might have heard a soft gasp, but that might have been wishful thinking on her part.

“You always were resourceful,” Bradley said, “I’ll give you that.”

The unmistakable chug of a propeller engine spooling up came over the line. “Where are you?”

Then the engine noise got muffled, and Bradley said, “Sit down and buckle up.” He wasn’t talking to her.

She glanced behind them at the airport. It wasn’t the closest airfield to Bradley’s house, that had been the one she and Gil had flown out of, but this one wasn’t that much farther.

She leaned forward and tapped Boomer’s shoulder and made a turn-around motion with her index finger and pointed back at the airport.

Boomer stomped on the brakes and pulled a U-ey. The right side of her head bumped the window, and her brain sloshed around in her skull. She tried hard to ignore the wave of nausea and the stars that danced in her peripheral vision.

If Bradley wasn’t at the Murdock airport, they wouldn’t be too far behind schedule, but if she was right…

In her calmest, most reasonable voice she said, “Whatever you’re doing you need to stop. You need to turn yourself in.”

Never in her wildest dreams did she think Bradley would give up. He wasn’t that kind of man. That type of man didn’t become a success in his field the way Bradley had even if that field was illegal. The climb to the top must be grueling and brutal. “It’s not too late to do the right thing.”

Bradley laughed on the other end. It sounded genuine. “I see you’ve been polishing up that halo. You would have been a great asset, but your father was right to have kept you out of the family business. You don’t have the heart for it.”

Wait. What? “What are you talking about?” Her words came out so soft, she repeated herself to make sure she was heard.

“Nothing. It’s time for me to go. Seeing you again was good.”

No. No. No, no, no. Tessa had to keep Bradley on the line.

Boomer made a sharp left turn and somehow managed to keep all four wheels of the trucks on the ground, though the tires slid and there was probably a long skid mark on the asphalt behind them. He accelerated for one of the utility gates, a chain held the two sides together.

“Hang on.” Gil braced his arms on the seat in front of him. Tessa did the same. They busted through the gate, aluminum poles and chain link went flying.

Maybe if she appealed to Bradley’s practical side. “Look, I don’t care what you’ve done, or where you go, just leave Jack. He’s only going to slow you down.”

Tessa’s mind raced. What else could she say that would make Bradley change his mind?

“There.” Hank pointed to a single prop plane that had turned and lined up on the runway.

“Is that you sweetheart?” Bradley’s voice was calm. Too calm. “Valiant try, but you’re too late.”

Between the roar of blood behind her eardrums and the whine of the plane’s engines revving up and filtering over the line, Tessa almost couldn’t hear Bradley.

With Boomer already racing for the runway, Tessa pointed at the plane. All she could manage was a strangled, “It’s him. Hurry.”

The wheels of the plane started rolling, and Boomer gunned the gas. The truck accelerated, throwing Tessa back against the seat. They bounced in the seats as Boomer cut through the grass between runways on an intercept course with the plane. Then Boomer sped the truck ahead of the plane and slid to a stop mid-runway.

The plane was a four-seater. It didn’t need that much runway. By the way the aircraft was barreling down on them, it was either going to barely clear them, or run right through them, the propellers slicing and dicing as they went.

“Bradley, Bradley, stop. This is insane, this—”

“He’s slowing,” Hank said.

The plane’s brakes kicked in, the tires locked and skidded. The stench of smoke and burning rubber filled the air.

“He can’t stop in time,” Gil said.

Boomer slammed the truck into drive, but at the last second, the pilot turned. The plane bounced through the grass and came to rest parallel to the perimeter fence, the edge of its left wing brushing the chain link.

The four of them scrambled out of the truck and ran over to the plane. With Hank’s phone, Tessa tried calling Spinks, but when she couldn’t get through, she hung up and dialed 911.

Boomer, Hank, and Gil spread out, their guns pointed at the plane. Boomer gestured at the pilot, with a cutting motion across his throat and the pilot cut the engine. The noise died as well as the hot blast from the prop wash.

Tessa identified herself and gave her location to the 911 operator. The plane’s passenger door opened. Jack stood in the entrance, Bradley hunched down behind him, one hand on Jack’s shoulder the other holding a gun.

With Bradley using Jack as a shield, Hank and Boomer lowered their weapons. With the rifle, Gil shifted, for a better angle, Tessa assumed. He knelt and took careful aim at Bradley.

The thought of her son being at the other end of a rifle should have terrified her, but when the man with his finger on the trigger was Gil, all she had was faith. Pure and blind. There was nothing else.

“Hang up the phone, Tessa,” Bradley said. His voice came out even as if he’d told her to change the channel on the TV, and not as if he was cornered and running out of viable options.

“Mom?” Jack’s voice wavered, but she had to hand it to her kid for keeping his cool.

“Don’t move, baby.” Tessa raised her hands, the phone high as she used exaggerated movements to disconnect the call and lay the phone on the ground. “Every thing’s going to be okay.”

Injecting as much authority as she could, Tessa said, “The sheriff is on the way. Give me Jack, and you can be gone before they get here.”

“You must think I’m stupid.” The tension in Bradley’s voice rose as sirens wailed in the distance.

Lights flashed as airport security sped around the far hanger in their utility vehicle.

Bradley raised his gun, level with Jack’s chest. “You need to get them to back off. Right the fuck now.”

“Hold on,” Gil said to Bradley, “No need to get excited.”

Hank turned to deal with security while Tessa did her best to talk some sense into her ex. Every fiber, every cell of her being wanted to scream at Jack to run.

“Tick tock, Martin,” Gil said. “Give us the kid, and we’ll let you go. You have our word.”

How Gil sounded calm and collected, Tessa would never know. After aiming the rifle for so long, it must feel like it weighed a hundred pounds, but Gil’s aim was rock solid, the end of the barrel perfectly still.

There came a ruckus behind them as airport security blew past Hank. Bradley raised the gun and put it to Jack’s temple. Jack shook, Bradley’s hand shook, and Tessa’s knees almost gave out.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Gil stood, holding the rifle and his other arm to the side. “Everybody calm the fuck down.”

Over his shoulder, Gil identified himself and told the airport security to back off. Gil laid the rifle on the ground and to Bradley, said, “Point that thing at me.”

“Gil, no.” Tessa thought she spoke out loud, but Gil didn’t respond, so she wasn’t sure.

“At me, Martin. At my head. Come on.” Gil eased forward as he spoke. “I’m a big, fat target at this distance, you can’t miss.”

Tessa saw the indecision on Bradley’s face.

“Do it,” Gil ordered. “Do it now.”

Bradley held Jack tighter against his body, but he shifted his aim from Jack’s head to Gil’s.

“That’s it,” Gil said. “I’m the one you want. I’m the one fucking this up for you. You want to take it out on somebody, you take it out on me, not the kid.”

A tsunami of relief washed over Tessa at the same time guilt swamped her. Bradley adjusted his finger on the trigger, his hand shaking as no doubt the combination of stress, adrenaline, and muscle fatigue worked against him.

Tessa didn’t dare move, didn’t dare speak. One flinch, one false move, and Gil would be dead.

Compared to your ex, a relationship with me looks like a no-brainer.

Gil’s words flashed in her head, as he took one cautious step toward the plane and then another. The truth of those words hitting her psyche hard enough to knock the breath from her lungs and all her previous reservations from her head.

This man, this big, bold, brave man was her and Jack’s everything. Risking his life for her son’s. He was the definition of selfless, the spitting image of integrity, the perfect picture of what a man should be.

It didn’t come as a revelation that she loved him. Though she hadn’t admitted it to herself, her heart, her body had known all along. It had just taken her brain some time to catch up.

The sirens were getting louder, but Bradley might still be able to get away if he hurried.

Gil eased closer and closer, his hands raised by his head, as he said, “Take me. I’m the one you want, Martin. Easy now. Easy.” Though Gil’s words were soothing, Tessa noticed the subtle way Gil’s body tensed, reminding her of a panther about to pounce. Jack’s eyes went to Gil, and in Tessa’s peripheral vision, Boomer shifted.

“They’re here,” Hank said.

Bradley’s focus shifted to the airport entrance. Sirens blared, tires squealed, and the full force of the Bison county sheriff’s department bore down on them.

Bradley froze.

Gil dove.

Tessa screamed.

Bradley and Boomer fired.

The sound of the shot didn’t even register, and Gil barely felt the bullet rip through his shoulder as he yanked Jack from the plane by the ankle, tucked him in his arms, and ducked and rolled under the plane.

They came to a stop against the fence, while the sheriff’s deputies leapt from their vehicles and charged the plane. Chaos surrounded them. Shouting, yelling, sirens howling.

But in the shadow on the far side of the plane, Gil and Jack were sheltered. Gil came to rest on his back, Jack tight in his arms against his chest.

He loosened his grip and held Jack at arm’s length. Gil grunted at the movement as the adrenaline started to wear off and the searing pain started taking its place. “You okay, Squirt?”

Jack nodded. Grass clippings fell out of the kid’s hair, and his body shook worse than palm fronds during a Florida hurricane. But there were no tears. The kid was too much like his mother for that.

Jack scrambled off Gil and sat in the grass. “You’re bleeding.” There was no panic in his voice. Again, so much like his mother.

“It’s not as serious as it looks.” Gil should know. It was close to where the last bullet had struck him. He took in a measured breath. At least this one had only hit meat instead of lungs.

He couldn’t turn his resignation papers in fast enough.

“Does it hurt? Billy’s dad was shot in the leg one time while he was hunting, and he said bullets hurt like a b—”

“Watch your mouth,” Gil said, though he couldn’t keep the grin off his face.

“Biscuit,” Jack said. “I was going to say biscuit. You thought I was going to say bitch.” Jack slapped a hand over his mouth before Gil could. “Don’t tell Mom I said that.”

“Don’t tell me you said what?”

“Mom!”

Jack jumped to his feet, and Tessa scooped him up in her arms. He wrapped his skinny legs around her waist as she held him extra, extra tight.

“Mom, I can’t breathe.”

Gil propped himself up against the fence and spared a glance at his shoulder. The bullet had left behind a hole and a trail of blood in the borrowed T-shirt.

Tessa sank to the ground beside him, loosening her hold on her son enough to keep him from turning blue. She ran her hands all over Jack, looking for signs of injury.

Jack giggled and squirmed. “Stop, that tickles.”

“Don’t move, I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine. Mr. Gil’s not.”

Tessa shot a look at Gil. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“I’m okay. Seeing the two of you together is the best medicine.” Though he’d be lying if he said morphine wouldn’t feel good right about then.

Tessa leaned over and pressed a kiss against his lips. “My hero,” she teased, though as soon as she said it, her eyes welled, and she blinked back the tears.

Gil shifted and flashed Tessa a smile, though the painful movement made it come out more like a grimace. “Does that mean I get a reward?”

Tessa’s eyes went dark and mischievous, but before she could say anything, Jack piped in. “Of course, you do. When I’m good, I get something extra special.”

Gil didn’t take his eyes off hers when he said, “Oh, little man, I’m counting on it.”

Tessa smiled. Full of relief, gratitude, and sinful promise.

Boomer came around the nose of the plane. “Hey, little man,” he said to Jack, “Is this a private party or can anyone join in?”

Gil shifted, his shoulder pounded, and he grunted against the waves of pain that radiated up and down his arm.

“Whoa,” Boomer said when he got a look at his shoulder. “I think we should take this little party over to the ambulance, let the EMTs take a look at that.”

“Come on, Jack,” Tessa said.

Boomer reached down and locked wrists with Gil’s uninjured arm and helped him up. A wave of dizziness made Gil take a stutter step to catch himself.

“You good?” Boomer asked.

Gil leaned his uninjured shoulder against the plane until the world righted itself. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Twenty minutes later, Gil sat on a stretcher in the back of the ambulance, an IV in his arm and his shoulder temporarily bandaged until he could get to the hospital. His condition wasn’t critical, and since he was friendly with the EMTs, he managed to talk them into letting him stay on scene until they’d gotten Martin cuffed and stuffed into the back of a cruiser and the deputies could get his statement.

It would all be in a report to Spinks later, but the sheriff’s boys needed to do their jobs and truth be told, he wasn’t going anywhere until Tessa had her leg evaluated.

At some point, Spinks had shown up. He must have finished with Boomer and Hank because he headed over toward Gil, Tessa hobbling along at the SAC’s side.

“Make room,” Spinks said as he handed Tessa up into the ambulance.

Gil scooted over giving Tessa room to sit on the end of the stretcher. The EMT put on a fresh pair of gloves and used bandage scissors to slice the leg of her jeans to expose her wound.

“They’re taking care of my leg,” Tessa said to Spinks, “now tell me what’s going on with the rest of the shipment.”

“We believe all trucks are accounted for. They’re being followed. Right now, it looks like they’ll converge somewhere on the coast in the Pacific Northwest. Quincy or Everett, Washington, Massey thinks.”

Tessa hissed in a breath. Her voice tentative when she said, “Quincy?”

Spinks’ eyes narrowed. “Yeah, why?”

“Bradley said—” Tessa hissed again, but it had nothing to do with a revelation and everything to do with the disinfectant the EMT was applying to her calf.

“Sorry,” the EMT said. “I’m almost done.”

Tessa closed her eyes and breathed through her mouth a couple times, then continued. “Bradley said something about my father keeping me out of the family business.”

Spinks crossed his arms over his chest. His hair was a mess, he had double bags under his eyes, and by his sour expression, he was a couple quarts low on caffeine. “What the hell does that mean?”

“My father owns a lot of businesses. A little of this. A little of that all over the world. But he specializes in logistics. That’s—”

“I know what logistics is. He specializes in getting things to people who need them.”

Tessa snatched her leg back from the EMT. “Okay, you’re done.”

“But I—”

“No more,” she said.

“I could give you something for the pain—”

Not now.” Tessa pressed the heels of her hands to her temples. “Sorry, I know you’re doing your job. Give us a minute, will you?”

By the strain on her face, she needed the meds as much as Gil did, but he knew she would refuse, like he had. Pain management could wait. Right now, they needed to have their minds clear. Spinks needed their help. The EMT peeled his gloves off and backed away. “I’ll give you five minutes, then I’m taking both of you in. With pain meds or without.”

From across the runway, Jack’s laugh came fast and light as he played a game of keep away with one of Boomer’s baseball hats. Jack tossed it to Hank, but Boomer roared and swept him up with one arm and dangled the kid over his shoulder. Jack kicked and screamed, his laughter sweet and high pitched.

“My father has a warehouse in Quincy. It’s right on a rail line. It’s his preferred port when he ships supplies because it’s a smaller inland port in the middle of nowhere. It’s not nearly as busy as the coastal ones.”

“You really think your father’s in on this?” Gil gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“I hope I’m wrong, but the more I think about it, the more I think Bradley got the idea to use an out of the way port for his illegal activity from my father’s business model.”

Tessa went on to supply Spinks with her father’s full name, address and contact information and answered a few short questions her voice flat and hollow.

The EMT pushed in beside Spinks and said, “Times up. You can answer any more questions when they get done with you at the hospital.”