She'd gotten close with him, but when things got difficult, she'd bailed. Maybe it was to save herself from drowning, or maybe she just wanted to be the one to leave first, so she could put the emotions away on her own terms.
He suspected she'd kept most of her friends in Houston at arm's length, too. He wondered about her patients. How did she handle working on people—on kids—who might not make it?
"How do you do it, Kat?" he asked.
"Do what?"
"Treat someone who might not survive?" He slowed down so they were walking side by side.
"That's an odd question to ask."
"Do you have an answer?"
"I think of them as their problem: broken arm, appendicitis, head injury, kid who swallowed a miniature car."
"That didn't happen."
"You'd be surprised what people, especially kids, put in their mouths."
"I don't think I want to know." He paused. "So it doesn't get to you? What happens when they're seriously ill, when you can't help them?"
"I never have a long time to think about it. It's on to the next patient. I work as a pediatric physician in the ER. Most kids I only see once—for a few hours. Sometimes I follow up, but usually they go back to their own doctors. I put out fires; I don't have long-term relationships."
That made complete sense. "Did you choose pediatrics because of Hailey?"
"She was definitely part of the decision, but I do like kids, and when you save them, you save all the life they have left to live, and that feels good. They can go on to accomplish all their dreams."
"I bet you're a terrific doctor."
She glanced over at him. "A compliment?"
"I've never questioned your intelligence, Kat, or your ability to be really good at something."
"I am good," she said. "It's not that I don't care about the patients—it's that I
can't
care. Emotions get in the way. I have to be the one focusing on fixing the problem. That's my job. That's what they need me to do. The recovery, the nurturing, the explanations—they come later."
"When the fire is out," he murmured.
She nodded. "Exactly."
And that was how she got through it. She kept moving and she didn't look back. It seemed that was the way she lived every part of her life.
He picked up the pace as they hit the foothills, leading the way up the slippery, rocky, wet hillside.
Katherine stayed close behind him. Occasionally, he reached back to offer her a hand, but she waved him away, saying she was fine. He hoped she'd remain that way because the hillside was getting steeper, and they still weren't high enough to see beyond the trees.
Half an hour later, he heard her breath getting a little rougher as they struggled through a particularly difficult stretch. Finally, they got beyond it and he paused to take a breather. "You okay?"
"Fine. I guess I need to get to the gym more often."
He pulled out his phone. "One bar," he said, excitement in his voice. His joy quickly faded when he couldn't get a call to connect.
"Maybe a text would get through," Katherine suggested, trying her own phone with the same results.
"I can send one and see." He debated on who he wanted to send a text to. He didn't want to alarm his mother if she hadn't heard anything yet, so he selected Rusty's number from his contacts and texted him the details of what happened. He pushed Send, but nothing seemed to happen. "I don't think it's working." He shoved his phone back into his pocket. "We're going to have to go higher."
"It's getting pretty steep, Jake."
"If we walk that way, it looks like a more gradual climb," he said, tipping his head to the east.
"All right."
He was about to turn back to the mountain path, when she grabbed his arm. "Wait. Look, Jake. I see something moving in the trees. Is that a car?"
He followed her gaze. In the forested area where they'd crashed, he could see flashes of metal in the sunshine and shadows moving through the trees. "Maybe we are going to be rescued," he said, somewhat amazed by that thought. "Someone must have seen the plane go down after all."
"Thank God. I was not feeling that optimistic about our plan to climb this mountain to find a signal."
They moved down the hill a lot faster than they'd come up. When they got to the bottom, they headed into the trees. They were probably fifty yards away from the plane when he heard men shouting. The tone of their voices gave him pause. Inexplicable shivers ran down his spine, and he stopped abruptly.
"What's wrong?" Katherine asked.
"Don't talk," he said quietly.
"Don't talk? I was just about to yell for help."
"I don't have a good feeling about this."
She stared at him in alarm. "What do you mean?" she asked, dropping her voice down to a whisper.
He didn't have time for an answer, but he did have time to pull her behind a tree as he saw shadowy figures coming in their direction. He wanted to see who was there before they showed themselves. He thought about grabbing the gun out of his bag, but he didn't want to make any noise. He should have had the gun out the whole time.
Katherine's fingers tightened on his arm as a man appeared a dozen yards away. He had a dark baseball cap on his head and wore a short-sleeved T-shirt and jeans. Both arms were heavily tattooed, and he carried a semi-automatic weapon in his hands.
The man paused as someone behind him yelled. He turned away and a man in a uniform joined him. They spoke in rapid Spanish and then headed back toward the plane.
"That second guy looked like a policeman," Katherine murmured.
"Yeah, but his friend didn't."
"If we stay hidden, Jake, we could be here for days. They could be here to rescue us. Could you make out what they were saying?"
He glanced back at her. "No." He was conflicted on whether or not to show themselves and ask for help or risk being discovered by the wrong people. Then he began to smell smoke.
"Oh, my God," Katherine said. "Fire."
He turned his head to see what had put the horror in her eyes and saw flames zipping up the branches of some trees not very far away.
"We've got to get out of here." He grabbed her hand and pulled her in the opposite direction of the plane. The smoke got stronger as they ran, and they were no more than a quarter of a mile away when an explosion knocked them flat on the ground. Rocks, dirt, and branches rained down around them.
Stunned, Jake struggled to catch his breath. Then, with ears still ringing, he scrambled to his feet and ran to Katherine, who'd landed a few feet away. She appeared dazed but not injured.
"Are you hurt?" he asked.
"I don't think so."
"We have to get farther away, Kat." He wasn't just worried about the men with the guns; the explosion had set off a blazing forest fire.
Katherine jumped up, and they took off running again.
They didn't stop for at least twenty minutes, staying on the edge of the forest, which gave them cover, and the nearby mountains, which he thought might provide an avenue of escape from the fire that was ripping through the trees. Finally, breathless, they paused for a moment to look back.
"What the hell happened?" Katherine asked in bemusement.
"They blew up the plane," he said shortly, fear turning his gut inside out. He'd been only semi-worried about surviving in the wilderness before. But now they didn't just have the elements to worry about.
"They weren't there to rescue us," she said. "Not if they blew up the plane. You don't think it could have happened on its own, do you?"
"No way. There was no leaking fuel. We were fine last night. Those men didn't want anyone to find the plane."
"Why? What did we do? Do you think this has to do with TJ? He told me if I tried to come after him, someone would know, someone might follow me. That's why I didn't fly commercial. But what if someone saw me get on your plane?"
"We don't know if this has anything to do with TJ. We could have trespassed on someone's very private property."
"Like a drug cartel?"
"Exactly. But it doesn't matter who we're running from. Right now we just have to make sure they don't catch us."
Nine
Alicia zipped her suitcase and called out to Michael in the adjoining bathroom. "We should hurry if we're going to catch our plane."
Her soon-to-be husband entered the bedroom late Sunday morning with a smile and a sexy gleam in his eyes. Her heart skipped a beat as she looked at him. She wondered when Michael would stop taking her breath away. She had a feeling it would be a very long time from now, if ever.
"You're telling me that?" Michael teased. "I wasn't the one who decided to help your mom make blueberry muffins from scratch for breakfast."
"It was our tradition when I was little. It was one of the few things she and I did together. Everything else was usually her and Dani. I couldn't say no."
He walked across the room and leaned over to give her a tender kiss. "I'm glad you spent time with her. I'm happy that you're getting closer to your mom again. And to the rest of your family, too."
"But just when I'm ready to get close again, everyone else goes away," she said with a sigh. "Dani sent me a text. She said her apartment has a view of the White House. She's very excited to be so close."
"I think your sister has her eye on the White House for her own personal ambitions."
"I'm sure. Dani always predicted she'd be famous and important one day. She's not quite there yet, but she's getting close. I do wonder how long she'll be content to work under other people, though. She has a tendency to like to run the show."
"She's smart enough to wait for the right opportunity. I don't think you have to worry about her."
"I'm not worrying about her; Jake is another story. Ever since he came by yesterday with Katherine, I've been thinking about him."
"He'll be in touch when he knows something."
"I just can't quite believe it's all still going on. Actually, I can believe it." She'd been frustrated for weeks at being shut out of the investigation into MDT. "I knew that this wasn't over. TJ's disappearance is directly related to Jerry's operation. I'm positive of that. I know Katherine asked us not to talk to anyone, but I'm thinking I should call Special Agent Wolfe. He, at least, was receptive to listening to my theories."
"Why don't you wait until you hear from Jake? This could all be over shortly."
"I guess."
Michael gave her another kiss. "As you said, we need to get a move on, so are you ready to head to the airport?"
"I am. Let's go." They were halfway down the hall when the doorbell rang. "I wonder who that is."
As she reached the bottom of the stairs, she saw her mom talking to a man on the porch. He was tall, with red hair. Her heart thudded against her chest. She'd seen this man before. He'd worked not only with Jake but also with her dad. He'd been the one to tell her mother that her father's plane was missing.
And now he was here—a day after Jake had flown to Mexico.
Oh, God!
She moved quickly toward her mother. "Mom?"
Her mother's face was stark white, and there was pure terror in her eyes.
"What's wrong?" Alicia asked, barely able to get the words through her tight lips. When her mother couldn't seem to answer, she turned to the man. "What's happened?"
"It's Jake," he said. "I'm sorry to tell you that his plane is missing."
She swayed from the shock of his statement. Michael came up behind her, and she leaned against his solid body as she tried to absorb what she'd just heard. "I don't understand."
"I'm Rusty Sampson. I'm the owner of Culverson Air Charters. Jake flew a charter to Mexico yesterday, but he did not arrive at his destination. There were a number of storms in his flight path, and he lost contact with air traffic control about two hours into his flight."
Her stomach turned over, and a wave of nausea ran through her. She grabbed her mother's icy-cold hand.
"It's just like before," her mother muttered in a dull, numb voice. "Just like your dad. It was Rusty then, too. He came to the door. He said the same thing."
She looked from her mother to the man who'd just delivered the terrible news. His eyes were bloodshot, his expression tense and worried. "It's not like the last time," she told him. "Jake is going to be all right. What are you doing to find him?"
"We've contacted Mexican authorities, and a search is underway. I've sent two planes down there to look for him myself."
She drew in a deep breath, feeling like she might pass out. Jake couldn't be dead. He couldn't be. He was too young, too strong, and he had way too much to live for. "You said he ran into a storm?"
"A severe electrical storm, yes," Rusty said, meeting her gaze.
"Like with my dad."
Rusty stared back at her. "Your father was over the Gulf of Mexico. I'm fairly certain Jake was over land."
"What difference does that make?"
"It will be easier to get him help, and he has a better chance of survival," Rusty replied.
"Why didn't you call us last night?" she demanded, realizing that Jake's chance of survival went down with every passing hour. "We could have been in Mexico by now."
"We were hoping to have made contact with him so that we could give you good news," Rusty said. "We're doing everything we can to find him. I want you to know that Jake is like a son to me. I won't stop looking for him."
"You stopped looking for my father," she said, feeling herself getting lost in the past now, too.
"I can't do this again," her mother said abruptly. "I can't." She let go of Alicia's hand and ran up the stairs to her room.
"I'm very sorry," Rusty said. "I'll be in touch as soon as I know anything."
"You need to find him and bring him home."
"I will do everything I can."
Alicia nodded and then closed the door. She turned in to Michael's arms, needing his strength. She felt like throwing up or crying or running away—maybe all three.
Michael held her close. "He's going to be okay, Alicia."
She lifted her head. "I want to believe that, but last time—"