What was going on? Jasmine stepped into the hangar, part of her hoping she’d somehow missed the plane. The building was small, meant to house only one aircraft, and there was no way it was hiding behind a tool box or a ladder. Other than Scout sitting in the middle of the floor watching Will, there was nothing.
Once again, she walked to the door, shielded her eyes, and scanned the single runway and the rest of the airfield. No sign of the King Air and no sign of Keith.
“He left already?” Will stood beside her, but he wasn’t looking at her. His tone and stance said he was more suspicious than ever of the men she considered to be her friends.
But even she couldn’t deny the behavior was odd. “I don’t see him.” She exhaled slowly and thought through the conversation with Darrin. He hadn’t indicated his brother would be heading out early. “Keith is one of those people who values his routine. Every flight, barring a weather hold, he takes off at the same time, without fail. It’s not like him to break protocol.” Her gaze followed Will’s, which wasn’t on her. It didn’t even appear he was listening to a word she said.
Instead, he stared at Scout, who had planted himself in the middle of the hangar watching Will intently, an eager gleam in his eye.
He’d done the exact same thing in her condo. The dog was waiting for a treat, because the scent of drugs meant a reward was on the way.
Her stomach roiled. No. Will and Sean couldn’t be right. If they were, that meant she was working for the very kind of men who had ruined her life the first time. It meant she couldn’t even trust people she’d come to rely on as family. It meant her job, her life and everything she knew was about to evaporate before her eyes, whether her identity was safe or not.
It meant Darrin and Keith were the kind of men who’d hurt others to line their pockets.
“He’s wrong.” She shook her head slowly from side to side. “Scout has to be wrong.”
Will bit down on his lower lip, no doubt holding back an assertion like Scout is never wrong.
“Maybe it’s not what it looks like.” An idea sparked and she walked closer to the trooper, praying he’d hear what she was about to say. “Maybe Keith had a prescription supply to run up today. We don’t fly them a lot, but he’s the one who takes the cargo when we do. Maybe Scout’s alerting to a perfectly legal shipment of medications.”
Will glanced at Sean, then dipped his head toward the main hangar door. When the other man led Grace to the opening and stood watching the runway, Will turned to Jasmine. “You and I both know how legal medications are shipped, at least the ones Scout would alert to. They’re in sealed containers inside locked boxes typically made of metal. My partner’s good at what he does, and it’s true he can latch onto residue left behind off someone’s clothes, but he can’t smell through sealed metal boxes. Even he’s not that good.” He reached down, scratched Scout behind the ears, and pulled a red rubber chew toy from his bag.
Scout settled down with the treat, happily gnawing away.
The collie made this look like a game, like fun was waiting to happen. This was so much more than that. This was life and death for people living on the frontier. And it was an upending of Jasmine’s life once again if things got out of hand. What if she had to testify again? Wouldn’t that bring her out into the open? Lord, I said I’d do anything, but I need You to give me the strength to do it.
He’d come through in the past. She had to believe He’d come through again.
She straightened her shoulders and prepared for battle. “Okay, let’s say you’re right. Just for the sake of argument, and not because I think you are. Then it’s an easy fix. You treat Keith like you did me. You meet him when he lands at Windward Fort and you sweep the plane. You’ll either find something or you won’t.”
“I wish it was that easy, Jas. But it took twenty-four hours to set up the operation and get into place to board your plane. We had permission from Keith and Darrin to do so, so we didn’t need a warrant. This time, if Keith is truly ferrying drugs, I highly doubt they’ll clear our path like that again.” A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Besides, if they are behind this, I don’t want to show them yet that I know. They could shut down for a while and keep us from finding anything, then start back up again when the heat is off them.”
“Plus, he’s got a good twenty-minute head start on us.”
Will narrowed his eyes. “What makes you say that?”
“When we were inside, talking to Darrin, a plane took off. It sounded like it could have been the King Air, but we get a lot of personal planes in and out, too, so I really didn’t pay that much attention. However, given that Darrin said Keith was still here and that he’s not here now? And also considering that’s the only plane I’ve heard leave?” She didn’t want to say it, but she also wouldn’t hide the truth. “I’m guessing Keith took off when we arrived.”
“Darrin was texting someone when he saw us. Could have been a warning.”
“Or it could have been the company in Anchorage that he’s courting.” She wasn’t ready to buy that her bosses were the problem, that they were responsible for a good man like Casey Bell overdosing and having to be flown out of Landsher in a fight for his life. “You know, up until I saw Anton Rogers shoot a man, drug dealers and smugglers were always faceless and nameless. In my mind, all they did was ruin lives and sit around counting their money and building up their arsenals. I never imagined they were the kind of people you might be eating beside in a restaurant or passing in the grocery store aisle.” Or be working for.
The pain in her stomach nearly doubled her over. There was no way she was working for smugglers. No. Way.
A worse thought whipped through her. “Will.” Jasmine’s voice came out in a ragged whisper. “What if I’ve had drugs on my flights before and didn’t know it? What if someone loaded a shipment in with my cargo?”
Without a word, Will drew her to him and held her close. She rested her head on his shoulder, feeling the beat of his pulse in his neck. “Jas, you can’t live in the hypotheticals. That’s my job. If this is true, I don’t think they would risk their profits or their freedom with someone who might randomly find their stash. Based on the evidence so far, Keith is probably flying the real drug flights.”
This couldn’t be true. Her whole world was upside down if it was.
Will’s arms tightened around her. “Give me a copy of the flight schedule, and I’ll see about gathering enough evidence for a warrant so we can get an operation rolling to board his plane the next time he flies.” His words brushed against her hair. “Until then, all we can do is wander. We have consent from Darrin to be here, so if Scout stumbles on something, it’s admissible.”
He pulled away and cupped her face in his hands. “You’re right that all I have right now is essentially circumstantial. I’m going to need more. And I’m going to need your help to unearth it.”
With a nod, Jasmine backed away from his touch. Everything about her roiled in conflict, from her stomach to her heart to her head. Will was the closest thing she had to a real friend. The only person who knew who she really was and how deep her suffering ran. He was also the heroic state trooper who was out to protect the men and women on the frontier from the drug dealers who would destroy lives to stuff their bank accounts.
But he was also the man who was accusing the people she cared about, the employers who offered her the livelihood she loved. Everything in her hoped and prayed she was the one who was right.
Will’s investigation made him the enemy to her friends and to her comfortable career. She couldn’t reconcile that truth with the man who not only truly knew her heart, but who was starting to hold that heart in his hands as well.
She’d lead them on a tour of the rest of the airfield, then she’d visit Jerry and see how the Twin Otter was coming along. In the process, maybe she’d be able to prove that Kesuk Aviation had simply been the victim of a false tip, and that everyone she worked for was who she believed them to be.
“The storage sheds are between the hangars, so Scout can have a sniff at them, but they’re locked. We keep cargo under lock and key unless we’re loading and unloading. Too many people would love to plunder the kind of stuff we move in and out. They’d make a fortune on the black market. After that, we can check the hangars and stop back by the office to get the flight schedule from Christy.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Will gave Scout a command, then placed the chew toy back in his backpack. He petted the collie on the head when Scout heeled, then they headed toward the door with his K-9 on the leash between them. “I know this isn’t easy for you. Don’t think I don’t appreciate what you’re doing.” Will’s voice was low, meant for her ears only.
It coated her heart with something warm. Something she really wasn’t sure she wanted to feel about him.
“Okay, Sean.” Will raised his voice so the other man could hear as they approached him. “Jasmine’s going to finish giving us the tour.” He stepped into the sunlight.
She walked out with him, shielding her eyes against the morning sun. It might actually be warm enough to—
Three rapid cracks broke the morning stillness.
Fire scorched her shoulder. As Will shoved her deeper into the hangar, Jasmine clutched her shoulder and felt the warm blood.
“Jasmine’s hit!” Will grabbed Jasmine by the arm and dragged her into the back corner of the hangar, away from the angle the shooter had on them.
With his leash dragging, Scout rushed along beside them.
From outside, shouts came from multiple directions, but they were unintelligible past the pounding of adrenaline through Will’s system.
Closer to the door, Sean ducked for cover with Grace behind him and eased out to try to survey the area. He held his sidearm at the ready. “You calling it in?”
“Got it.” Will settled Jasmine on the floor against the wall. Resting one hand on her bicep, he knelt beside her and jerked his radio from its holster. Then he identified himself and gave his location to dispatch. “Shots fired. Pedestrian struck. Request backup. Dispatch fire/medic to my location. Location of shooter unknown at this time.”
From the far end of the runway, tires squealed. “Can you see him?” Hopefully Sean had made out something.
“Black coupe on the other side of the airfield. Can’t tell make, model or plate. Too far away.”
Will relayed the information to dispatch, then pulled gloves from his belt and drew them on.
Jasmine didn’t move or speak. She watched with wide eyes, probably in shock. If the wound wasn’t bad, then the suddenness of the attack and the accuracy of the shot had likely muddied her mind.
Scout hovered beside her, then lay down and nudged his nose under her hand where it rested on the concrete.
“It’s going to be okay.” God, let it all be okay. Will threw the prayer at the sky along with a lot of more desperate, unintelligible ones. Easing her jacket away from her shoulder, he surveyed the damage.
“How bad?” Jasmine seemed to come back to him, and her fingers eased gently over Scout’s head. His partner was a stellar sniffer, but sometimes he was even better at offering comfort. His presence definitely seemed to be working on Jasmine.
There was a rip in her jacket and in her shirt. He eased the cloth apart. The bullet had grazed her arm just below her shoulder, leaving behind a wicked burn and a rapidly bruising shallow cut.
He exhaled and lowered his head with a quick prayer of gratitude.
“Will?”
Rocking back on his heels, he laid his hand on her forearm and watched her face. “It’s superficial. How bad is it hurting?”
“It stings. Nothing awful.” She sagged against the metal wall as the sound of sirens grew louder. “How did this happen?”
“You mean how did someone know you’d be here?” He had his suspicions. Darrin could have slipped around to the other side of the airfield. Or maybe Keith wasn’t on that plane after all.
“No. How did they not kill me?” Her voice was weak. Her skin was pale, and a fine sweat sheened her forehead.
Will couldn’t fault her for the question. Getting shot—even grazed—was nothing to shrug off. “I’m going to have to go with God on that one.” The shooter had clearly waited for Jasmine to exit the hangar. If she wasn’t the target, he’d have fired at Sean, who was by the door, or at Will, who’d walked out first.
Somehow, the bullet had traveled between her and Will with minimal damage. If one of them had been standing a couple of inches to either side...
“Backup’s here. I waved the paramedics this way.” Sean approached, holstering his pistol. “I’m fairly certain that car taking off was our man. Hopefully the description of the car was enough so that they can apprehend him.”
Two paramedics rushed in with their equipment. Will gave them a quick rundown, squeezed Jasmine’s hand and stepped back, motioning for Scout to stay beside her. She seemed to draw more comfort from the collie than from him.
Will walked a few feet away with Sean, but he kept his eyes on Jasmine. He was half-afraid to look away. Every time he let his guard down, it seemed someone managed to get a potshot in.
His teammate stared out the front of the hangar, where two more troopers entered. “This guy’s bold, going after her twice in the same way.”
“Or he’s comfortable here.” As Will spoke, Darrin appeared at the entrance to the hangar. One of the troopers stopped him, and he tried to look around the woman to see Jasmine. “Darrin had time to get into position if he left the building when we did. He’s had time to stow a vehicle and get back here, too.”
Sean shook his head. “It’s not him. Within a minute of the shots, he tried to exit the building. I had to wave him back in. He couldn’t have been on the other side of the airfield.”
That was either a relief or a blow to his case. The pounding in Will’s head as his adrenaline ebbed wouldn’t let him puzzle out the answer. “How do we know Keith took off in the plane? He could be on the other end of that weapon.”
“He could. But I’d think that would be easy to corroborate with anyone around here. A call directly to the plane from their radios here ought to tell us if he’s on board.”
“The woman we met earlier... Christy? She should be able to do that.” Will tapped his fingers against the flashlight hanging from his belt as he watched the paramedics speak in low tones with Jasmine. “We can have her radio him to let him know what happened, and that should keep him from realizing we’re checking up on him. Can you be in there to listen to his response, see if you can gauge anything?”
“On it.” Sean walked away, but then he turned back. He eyed Will, then looked at Jasmine. “Be careful, Stryker.” With a nod to the paramedics, he headed for the building, speaking to Darrin as he passed, who fell into step beside him.
Be careful. Because of the shooter? Or because he sensed something between Will and Jasmine?
He shook his head. Jasmine had become a friend. Nothing more. She couldn’t be anything more. He wasn’t going down that road ever again.
“Trooper?” The female paramedic looked over her shoulder from where she crouched on the floor at Jasmine’s side.
He stepped over and knelt beside her.
Jasmine reached for his hand, slight desperation in her gaze. “I’m not going to the hospital.”
“She’s refusing transport.” The male paramedic looked up at Will with a Help us with this stubborn woman plea in the arch of his eyebrow.
“Will, please.” Her voice was tinged with an emotion he couldn’t place. She ought to be checked out, just to be sure, even though he was certain the injury was minor. Why wouldn’t she want to play it safe and have a doctor—
“Oh.” He rocked back on his heels as understanding crept in. Everything she did opened her up to discovery. Even small things could have huge ramifications if her photo somehow floated out to the wrong people. Jasmine was still fairly new to witness protection. She still guarded her identity with obsessive attention and wouldn’t go anywhere that might put her on the radar any more than she had to.
Tears pooled at the corner of her eyes, and Will had the mad urge to pull her close, but he refrained. Right now, it was enough that she knew he understood.
“How bad is it?” He addressed the female paramedic. “Are we talking stitches?”
“It’s superficial. At minimum, keeping it covered should help. So will some ibuprofen and lots of it when her adrenaline wears off and it starts throbbing. At worst, antibiotics wouldn’t be a bad idea. We recommend any gunshot victim be transported, though.”
Jasmine shook her head, her eyes wide.
Her fear tore at his heart. “Have her sign a refusal of transport. She’s in my protection. If she needs to go later, I’ll take her.”
Neither of the paramedics appeared to like his answer, but Jasmine was his biggest concern. Three times while she was in his care, someone had managed to reach her. And each time, the danger had drawn closer.
The next time might be the time the bullet found its mark.