by J. T. Cross
“How’s the patient in Room 202?” his nurse asked.
“She’s doing well. You can go in and visit her if you want.”
The nurse led him around the counter to her room.
“You can go in. I’ll be right back. I have to check on the patient next door.”
Luc walked in and saw Kate lying on the bed with her eyes closed. “Hello, anybody home?”
She opened her eyes and sat up in bed. “Luc, you’re up! How are you feeling?”
“I’m hangin’ in there. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
“You didn’t, come in,” she said, excitedly.
He walked over to her bed and hugged her. “I was so worried about you,” he said sitting down next to her.
“I’m actually feeling pretty good.”
“On the chopper, Christie said you weren’t moving.”
“All I remember is lying there in pain wondering if I was going to die,” she said. “The surgeon said I was lucky nothing vital got hit.”
“I guess we’re all pretty lucky,” he said.
The door opened and they turned to see Ishki enter the room.
She walked over to the bed and stared at Luc for a moment.
“You did it. I knew you would.”
“I guess it’s that Heart of the Hunter thing,” he said.
“It’s more than that. You have the heart of a hero.”
He glanced at Kate. She smiled at him and nodded.
He began to feel embarrassed. “I didn’t do this alone. I had a lot of help.”
Ishki took a deep breath. “I traveled last night, probably for the last time.” She paused for a moment to catch her breath again. “Things have changed. Your family’s lifelines are whole again but are now spread out across the world. I don’t know what that means. It’s different now,” she said.
“I don’t understand,” Luc said.
“That makes two of us.” Ishki turned to Kate. “Be strong and have faith. Most of all, don’t ever give up.”
She turned and slowly walked out of the room.
Kate and Luc stared at each other in silence for a moment.
“What do you think that was all about?” Kate asked.
“I have no idea,” He suddenly felt the desire to try and get one more look at Kelly and Stuart.
Standing up slowly, he walked over to the window and gazed out over the parking lot at the front of the hospital. He didn’t see them, but he did see a large black limo. Christie was standing at the side of the vehicle talking to someone.
He watched them for a moment and realized she was talking to Roland Valenkamp. He noticed that she was standing suspiciously close to him.
“I wouldn’t have believed it,” Luc said.
“Wouldn’t have believed what?” Kate asked, getting up from the hospital bed and walking over to join him at the window.
Her expression turned sour as she watched the scene below.
“What’s that all about?” she asked.
“He gave her a check for a million dollars. For her husband getting killed, she says.”
“And she took it? After all we’ve been through?”
He nodded. “He told her Victor had done it all on his own. She believes him. But then, that’s Christie. I don’t think she wants to see the truth. It might interfere with the world revolving around her.”
Kate put her arm around his waist and he turned to her. “You’re my hero,” she said.
“You’re mine,” he whispered into the nape of her neck.
They kissed then held each other for a while.
* * *
Kate walked into Luc’s house and threw down the newspaper onto the dining room table in front of where he sat. “I picked it up on the way over. You should look at the front page.”
He flipped it over and his eyes grew wide. At the top of the page was a picture of the President of the United States and the Secretary of Energy. He began to read the article below the picture. A frown appeared on his face as he read.
“I don’t believe it. The Secretary of Energy is asking the President to declare the valley a restricted area until the government determines the extent of the ore and its future impact on science and the country.”
“I thought you might find that interesting,” she said.
“Not only that but several countries are suing the United States for equal access rights to the ore.”
“Boy, news gets around fast,” she said.
He turned to the second page and saw Christie’s picture. Under her picture was the caption, “Paleontologist Makes Major Discovery.”
Luc quickly read the article. “It looks like Northern Energies is giving her credit for the discovery of the animals in the valley,” he said.
“As I recall, you were the one that found the tooth and almost got killed bringing it back,” she said derisively.
“Yeah, but she’s the one that got the pictures of the mammoth and her calf,” he said as he showed her a picture on the second page.
“That calf is cute.”
“I’ve got some sad news,” she said in a soft voice.
“What?”
“Gina called me yesterday and said goodbye.”
“Who’s that again?”
“Gina West, my friend who wanted me to mentor her. She’s decided she doesn’t want to be a bush pilot after all.”
“Oh her, yeah, yeah, I remember you talking about her. That’s odd. You’d said she seemed so excited about it,” Luc said looking up from the paper.
“I guess she wasn’t that excited. She left town early this morning. I’ll miss her.”
He shook his head dismissively and went back to the bottom of the front page.
“This is interesting,” he said. “The villagers are suing Northern Energies. Looks like they have attorneys waiting in line to join their team.”
“It doesn’t surprise me,” she said.
“Corporations. Politicians. Everyone wants a piece of the pie and it should belong to the villagers.”
“I thought that was native land. How can they just take it?” she asked.
“It’s ripe pickings up here for anyone with a team of lawyers. The tribal commission is no match for lobbyists and palms being greased behind their backs.”
“That’s horrible.”
“You’re telling me. It’s a mess.” He threw the paper across the table and stared out the dining room window.
“Do you think the villagers will ever get any money out of the ore?” Kate asked.
“Who knows? They might get some profits if the government doesn’t shut down the whole thing.”
He glanced across the table at her but noticed she was looking around the room, no longer seeming interested in the newspaper articles. She got up and walked into the living room.
“I think we should paint the place,” she said cheerfully.
“Paint?”
“Yeah, a light beige and put some pretty curtains on the windows.”
“I don’t know about pretty curtains. I kinda like the brown ones.”
“Some pretty, light-colored sheers would be nice.” She continued looking around the room.
“Don’t you think we should wait until we get married?” he said, beginning to feel a little uncomfortable.
“You’ve been out of the hospital for two weeks. I think it’s time we did something with this place. It never hurts to get an early start when you have a big design job ahead of you,” she said energetically.
“A big design job?” He stood up and walked partway into the living room.
“Luc, you’re beginning to sound like an echo.”
She smacked the brown curtains that hung on either side of the front window. He watched the dust fly off into the room.
“Luc, when’s the last time you washed these?” she asked, feigning mock exasperation.
“I didn’t know you were supposed to wash curtains,” he said and laughed.
She turned around and he watc
hed her look him up and down, as if she were appraising his value.
A big smile spread across her face. “What would you do without me, Luc Moon?”
“I don’t think I ever want to find out,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and realizing he felt happy for the first time in a very long time.
The End
Also available from J.T. Cross:
Beneath the Deep
Chapter 1
Megan O’Brien steadied herself on the deck of the forty-foot cabin cruiser, The Gypsy Queen, as she unbuckled and removed her diving tanks. She gently laid them at the side of the boat and picked up a towel.
Looking for her dive partner, she made a quick 360-degree scan around the boat. She saw only choppy water and a small flock of seabirds in the distance. Matt had been right behind her. She didn’t like it when they got separated. Finally, she spotted him twenty feet off the starboard side, swimming slowly toward the boat.
Relieved, she squeezed out her wet hair in the ocean breeze as she waited for him to bring up her archaeological finds.
Far above, the faint undulating hum of a plane caught her attention. She laid down her towel and looked up, searching for the plane. This time, she couldn’t find it as low clouds had begun moving in. Once again, she got the feeling that something odd was going on with that plane, as it was the fifth time that day it had flown over them. The thought occurred to her that the plane must be running low on fuel.
A large swell lifted the boat and she grabbed the back of a nearby seat to keep from falling. She glanced at her dive watch. It was 3:03 p.m. Thirty-five miles off the coast of Florida, it wasn’t unusual for the ocean to get rough at that time of the afternoon.
She heard splashing sounds just before Matt Turner’s head peeked over the side and he lifted a net bag to her. “Here, take your trinkets.”
She gave him a dirty look. “Where are the other two bags?” she asked as she took the heavy bag.
He gave her a sheepish grin. “Oh, yeah…they were too heavy for one trip.”
“You forgot them.” She shook her head in disappointment and walked to the rear of the boat. Kneeling down, she loosened the top of the bag and pulled out several pieces of broken pottery. A sense of excitement filled her as she began examining them.
“It would be a rarity to find them, especially here, but I think these could be Late Pleistocene ceramics,” she said as she turned over a small sherd in her hands.
Matt climbed up onto the boat. “Ha, I think they’re from the teapot I threw overboard when I was out here fishing a couple of years ago.”
“Very funny.” She cast him another dirty look and went back to examining the pottery sherds.
Matt took off his diving gear, grabbed her towel, and began to dry off.
She looked up at him. “Hey, that’s my towel. Use your own.”
He grinned at her. “You know, you need to relax. You also need to come up with more than some broken pottery if we’re going to make any money off this site.”
“I didn’t go into archaeology to get rich.” She turned away from him and continued picking through the pieces.
“Bits of pottery aren’t gonna put diesel in the tanks or food on the table.”
“Hey, there it is again,” she said standing and pointing up at the sky.
“There what is again?”
“The plane I told you about.”
* * *
Matt watched Megan standing there in her blue bathing suit, her long red hair whipping in the brisk ocean breeze as she gazed up at the plane with her startling green eyes. She had the most attractive and athletic body of any woman he had ever known.
Momentary frustration rose at the thought that, so far, she had flatly rejected all of his romantic advances. He ran his hands through his curly blond hair. She’d come around.
He watched her twirl her hair with her finger. He knew her well enough to know that she only did that when something was bothering her. “Why are you so interested in that plane?” He waited for her response as he listened to the sound of the wind and the ocean waves lapping at the sides of the boat.
“Just curious. It’s been going around in circles for hours.”
“No law against it.”
“No, but it doesn’t make much sense either. I think they’re searching for something.”
“No doubt, considering how many valuable artifacts are out here,” he said sarcastically.
Raising her eyebrows, she glanced across the deck at him. “Just the ruins of an ancient city, if my theory is correct.”
He stared at her, feeling his frustration rise. She just didn’t get it. “We’ve talked about this before. No intact artifacts, no money.”
She turned away. “There’s more to life than money.” She adjusted her bathing suit, sat down, and stretched out her long muscular legs, resting her feet against the side of the boat. She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “I’m bushed.”
He decided he wanted to get back to the marina as soon as possible. “I’ll tell you what,” he said. “I’ll go down and get your other sample bags while you rest.”
She glared at him. “We go down together or not at all.” A moment later, her expression changed to one of sadness.
He immediately realized he shouldn’t have suggested that, not after what had happened to her husband a year earlier.
She took her feet off the edge of the boat, scooted back in her seat, and sat upright. “Tommy thought it would be okay to go down alone and I didn’t stop him. We both know what happened.”
He raised his shoulders and put his hands up. “All right, we’ll do it your way…you okay?”
She looked out over the water. “I’m good,” she said softly.
“We’ll go back down together,” he said.
“It’s back,” she said, pointing off the rear port side of the boat.
It took him a couple of seconds to spot the plane. It was about a half mile away, several hundred feet over the water, and heading toward them. It continued to lose altitude as they watched in silence.
She stood. “It’s coming right at us.”
That got his attention. He stood and moved next to her. He estimated the plane was now no more than thirty feet off the water. “What the hell’s the pilot doing?”
The plane continued to descend and then banked to their left, correcting its course so it would pass just to the right of their boat. The wheels, attached to a rigid landing gear, were now only feet above the water.
“That pilot better pull up,” she said loudly.
The small plane’s engine suddenly quit, dashing all hope for that. For several seconds, it continued gliding silently, mere feet above the water, before the nose tilted upward, and the plane stalled. A second later, its nose fell and its front wheel dug into the crest of a small swell.
Matt winced as the plane flipped forward and cartwheeled. Time seemed to stretch out as the wings and tail were torn off and the sound of metal being hammered and ripped filled the air.
Megan gasped as the plane finally came to rest, leaving only the fuselage and pieces of the broken wings floating on the choppy ocean.
Chapter 2
Megan’s heart pounded and her stomach clenched as she stared at the pieces of wreckage. She had never witnessed a plane crash and was unprepared for the violent destruction of the small craft. She turned to Matt. “We have to do something.”
He didn’t respond but kept gazing at the wreckage with his mouth open, slowly shaking his head. He turned and looked at her. “Ouch, that’s gotta hurt,” he mumbled.
Frowning, she wondered if he ever took anything seriously. She looked back at the plane and saw movement in the cockpit. “I think the pilot’s alive.”
Matt went to the front of the boat and started the engines. He glanced back at her. “I’m going to pull closer to the plane. Maybe we can fish out the pilot.” He pushed the switch to raise the anchor.
She heard the sound of the lugging windla
ss motor as it reeled in the anchor, and then looked back at the plane. It was riding lower in the water than it had just moments before.
She climbed up on the side of the boat and yelled, “There’s no time for that. It’s sinking!” She took a deep breath and dove off the side.
The cold water was a shock to her warm body as she glided just below the surface in the direction of the plane. She felt herself slowing, came to the surface, and began swimming hard toward the front of the fuselage. A strong swimmer, she reached the cockpit in less than a minute. She glanced back at The Gypsy Queen. Matt was still bringing up the anchor.
She turned and looked into the cockpit window. Inside, a white-haired man held his head as water rushed in around him. Seeing that the water was already up to his waist, she knew she didn’t have much time to get him out.
She looked down through the water along the outside of the door and saw a handle. Grabbing it, she pushed it down and pulled. The door refused to open and she only succeeded in pulling herself closer to the sinking plane.
She repositioned herself in the water, putting both feet against the side of the fuselage, and pulled again. This time, she had more leverage and felt the door open, slowly at first, then more easily as water rushed into the cockpit. She pushed it back and out of the way.
Grabbing the man by the arm, she tried to pull him out without success and immediately realized his seatbelt must still be engaged. “Unfasten your seatbelt!”
He looked at her with glazed eyes. “What?”
She took a couple of deep breaths, ducked under the water, and pulled herself into the cockpit. She searched for the seatbelt clasp, working her way around his waist until she found and released it.
She pushed herself back out of the cabin, grabbed his arm, and began to pull. “Let’s get you out of here.”
To her surprise, he resisted, turned away from her, and reached around to his right to grab a floating yellow case.
He pushed the case in her direction. “Save this. It’s the most important thing,” he said in a strained, gravelly voice.
