“Over here,” he barked at Gentry.
Cameron tensed. A flicker of fear crossed her face, but she played the scene. When she got close, Malakua pushed Nica aside. In that second, Cameron almost leaped. But Malakua got his arm around Gentry’s neck, the knife aimed at her ribs.
Cameron’s temples throbbed with tight restraint as he caught his sister and searched her soul. “Did he touch you?” In a more violating way than a knife at her throat.
She shook her head, but there was a blankness to her expression he didn’t like.
“On da plane.” Malakua jerked his head.
With a final glance at TJ and Denny, Cameron boarded the Cessna and stood at the open cockpit. Malakua followed Gentry up the stairs, knife positioned to do deadly damage, though killing her no longer seemed his priority. As Gentry said, he worked by stealth for others. Those others seemed to have deserted him, and what mattered now was saving his neck.
He pushed Gentry into the recliner just behind the small galley counter and plopped into the other. Hands tied, Gentry managed her seat belt and sat erect. Knife in hand, Malakua stayed free to lunge if either of them tried something. Cameron wished Denny could have stowed a gun somehow, but with Malakua’s clear line of sight to the pilot’s seat, this would have to simply play out. Cameron drew up the stairs and shut the jet door, sealing them in. They’d fly in executive comfort and style—if he could get them off the ground. He ran a peremptory flight check and started the engines. The lights flickered and air-conditioning paused. He checked the hydraulic pumps for the brakes in case he had to abort takeoff, adjusted flaps for lift at a lower speed. No more excuses.
“Go,” Malakua ordered. “Get dis buggah in da air.”
“I have to notify Lihue we’re taking off. Colliding with an airliner won’t work for anyone.”
Malakua grunted. Cameron kept it short and sweet. Getting the go-ahead, he pressed back in his seat, wondering where he’d left his mind. Like Luke Skywalker, he closed his eyes and pushed the doubts away. But the force that impressed on him was one he’d openly questioned.
Okay, Lord. If you’re in this, make it happen.
He revved the engines and started the plane moving. Near one end of the single strip of pavement they reached V—1. No error lights. The noise and thrust increased. V—2 by mid-runway. More thrust and the exhilarating and terrifying physics of flight. No stopping now. The nose came up. V-R. On wings of angels they found open sky. He breathed, but this was only the start.
Cameron glanced in the mirror that showed him the richly appointed cabin and the passengers seated there. Island turbulence bobbled Malakua in his seat, but he seemed unperturbed. With the knife still clenched in one hand, he grabbed a muffin out of the tote and stuffed it into his mouth. Gentry sat stoically, believing.
Cameron returned his focus to the controls and the vista. Still climbing, he brought up the landing gear and managed a bumpy patch of air. The shoreline passed beneath, and they were over the water. In thirty minutes the Citation could climb forty-three thousand feet to transatlantic-crossing altitude. He could take her up to fiftyone and soar above other air traffic as soon as—
They hit a wicked pocket of turbulence. The air chopped; the plane bucked. In this kind of wind, piloting the midsized Cessna was like taming a mustang. He forgot the two behind him, forgot everything but what he’d learned too long ago. He imagined Denny in his place and subconsciously adjusted as he’d seen him do. Still climbing, the bucking increased.
“Kai?” Gentry sounded strained.
“Just some rough air. Stay buckled.” He fought another buffeting. Sweat slicked his palms. His jaw ached from clenching. Once he got over the prevailing winds … Even as he thought it, the air calmed, and his grip on the yoke softened.
Sweat beaded his temples as he reminded himself that passenger jets were stable. Denny’s Citation X was powered by two Rolls-Royce turbofan engines. Its highly swept, one-piece supercritical wing reduced drag for efficient transonic flight. This baby wanted to soar.
Easing forward with the yoke, he leveled out slightly, but a roar behind sent his heart to his throat. Malakua reared up. Gentry had gotten her hands free, and Malakua didn’t like it. The brute lunged. With hardly time to think, Cameron raised the aileron on the right wing, lowering its counterpart on the left. They banked sharply.
Malakua flew into the galley counter and landed hard on the floor. The knife skittered into the cockpit, but Cameron was fighting the adverse yaw of his extreme tilt with the opposite aileron and a little rudder, doing all he could to prevent a roll.
Gentry unbuckled and lunged for the knife.
“Don’t!” Cameron hollered. “We’re too rough.” He fought to get it back on the level in the buffeting winds. The jet canted and dipped. She fell against the copilot’s seat and hung on. Malakua rolled unconscious into the galley cabinet, spit and soggy crumbs sticking to his gelatinous neck. If he hadn’t been bleary already, that manuever might not have been enough.
As the plane to settled, he said, “Okay, tie him.”
Gentry crouched. She pulled one massive arm back, then the other, and used the rope with which she’d been loosely tied. Her knots were merciless.
“Buckle in.”
She groped until she found her phone in Malakua’s pocket, then dropped into the co-pilot’s seat.
He turned. “You okay?”
She looked a little green. “What wrong with Malakua?”
“I’m guessing the muffins.”
“The muffins?”
“Smell it? Kava kava. Causes a nice euphoric high that turns into a powerful soporific. Okelani’s an herbalist. What do you bet she provided his snack?”
Kava kava, momentum, and just maybe prayer had done the trick. The air smoothed as they reached cruising altitude, soaring over the blue expanse of ocean. He suddenly felt as though he could fly forever. But it was time to return Denny’s toy.
THIRTY-TWO
Bumping and weaving in the copilot’s seat, Gentry watched the white-ruffled golden shore give way to the fringe of green that became trees. Cameron had radioed their request for landing, and she checked her seat belt as the island came into focus beneath them. He took it up—her hands tightened on the armrests—he can take it down.
The Hanalei Valley spread like a jeweled plain in hues of emerald. Before it lay the one narrow runway surrounded by cane fields. Flimsy clouds whipped across the windows. The jet jumped. Her hands clenched.
The noise rose as the engines resisted the speed of their descent. Flaps on the wings came up. They dropped and rocked. She glanced back as Malakua rolled side to side on the floor, unaware of his changed circumstances. They dipped again, tore through some ragged wisps of cloud, and lined up with the runway.
She gasped. “Kai.”
“I see it.”
Directly ahead stretched a rainbow from the ground to the sky like a ribbon poured from the clouds. The stripes of light bridging heaven and earth caused a pang in her chest so sharp it hurt. The ground rose up, the single runway connecting them to the rainbow, fading but still visible.
Her hands softened on the armrests. The wheels touched down, rose up, and settled. Pressure pushed her into the seat as the brakes, flaps, and God’s will brought them to a stop. The jet released a long sigh. Euphoric without one bit of kava kava, she snapped off her belt as Cameron left his seat, and they embraced so tightly she couldn’t breathe. She didn’t need to.
She crushed his ribs, laughing against his chest. Sheer relief made her giddy. “You did it!”
“I think I had some help.”
“And we’re down, safe and alive!” That much was sinking in.
He rubbed her shoulders. “You were more afraid of my part than Malakua’s.”
“Duh.”
“You didn’t think I could do it?”
“You didn’t think you could.”
He cocked his head. “That obvious?” At her look, he shrugged. “Has been a while.
”
“Now you tell me.”
“Want to do it again?”
She slapped her palms to his chest. “No!”
He laughed. “So now we’re in for a different ride.”
“What?”
“Didn’t you notice the police cars and press vans?”
“No. Where… ?” She looked out the window. “I didn’t see anything but the rainbow.” She drew a shaky breath as reality settled hard. “I wish we were back in the air.”
He squeezed her hand. “You’ll be fine.”
She glanced at Malakua. “Are we in trouble?”
“I don’t know.”
She caught both his hands. “If we are, don’t worry. I’ve got a rich uncle.”
“Yeah. One who’ll rather skin my hide than save it.”
“I’ll tell him it was my idea.”
“Valiant, but worthless gesture.” He glanced at Malakua, moaning softly on the floor, then reached for the door. “Ready?”
“I guess.”
“Aw, come on. At’s one bombora wave.” He leaned back. “Unless you’re bailing.”
“What?” She narrowed her eyes. “Bring it on.”
She descended the stairs he’d lowered to the tarmac. No one seeing these pictures would miss their rapport, and she wasn’t sure she cared.
As she and Cameron desended the stairs into the crowd, the police cut through and boarded the plane to arrest Malakua. She looked for contempt in the faces around her but saw only excitement. Darla was right that her stock had jumped. What surprised her was how well Cameron played it. Complex and moody, transparent and opaque, he made a compelling leading man.
The police had already questioned TJ and Nica, the heliport tour director, and Denny Bridges. She settled into a chair in the small waiting area and crossed her legs, drawing every eye. If she could use her influence to get them all through this, she would.
“By the way.” She held up her phone. “I recovered this. Officers Bender and Severt might like to know.” She reminded them of the burglary they’d failed to take seriously and Malakua’s involvement in the “accident” that injured her uncle and her. Suddenly they wanted to listen.
Aware of the fact that they’d attempted to transport a fugitive and probably broken other regulations and laws, she asked, “Should we secure lawyers?”
The pink and paunchy chief of police cleared his throat. “Ms. Fox, we understand the difficulties you’ve faced in your short time on Kauai. I need your statements, but I don’t believe charges will be filed at this time.” He sent a stern look to TJ. “Beyond a departmental inquiry.”
“Officer Kanakanui has worked hard to resolve my situation from the start. His decisions today saved lives. I’ll be happy to testify on his behalf before any board of inquiry.” And she’d play it for all she was worth.
The chief ’s face softened. If he was wise, he’d avoid the publicrelations headaches she could cause him. She didn’t want to subvert the law, but they had all acted with good conscience.
He pushed up to his feet. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary. The press seems to think it’s a holiday and you’re all heroes. Ms. Fox, do you suppose you might stay out of the news for the rest of your stay?”
She refused to consider any other scenario. “I’m leaving in the morning with my uncle.”
He half smiled. “Hate to see you go.”
“I might be back.”
He gave a short laugh. “Fair warning.”
Cameron stood up. “Are we finished?”
“I think we can call it a day.”
As the chief and his officers left, Nica hugged Cameron. They stood a long time before he said, “Are you all right?”
She nodded.
“You’re sure nothing happened.”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t there.”
They shared a look Gentry couldn’t interpret.
Nica said, “It’s all right now.”
Gentry hugged her. “I’m so sorry.”
“For standing in my place?”
“For getting you into it all.”
Nica tipped her head. “Never hesitate to entertain strangers—who might be angels in disguise.”
“If there’s an angel here, it’s Okelani.” Gentry could hardly keep from laughing when she pictured Malakua weaving on his feet.
“It was your idea to call her,” Cameron said.
“Well.” She shrugged one shoulder. “I listen.”
That had been divine inspiration. She had no idea Okelani would use herbal skills, only that she might comfort Nica and make Malakua watch his step. But God was infinitely creative.
TJ came back in. “Da chief relieve me of duty for da week.”
“Sorry, brah.”
He shrugged and hung his arm around Nica. “Maybe fish some.”
Nica rested her hand on his chest. “TJ’ll take me home, Kai.”
“I figured.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “I’ll be over later.”
Watching them walk out, Gentry frowned. “What did Nica mean when she said she wasn’t there?”
“When she’s upset, she … goes away in her head. She says Jesus is there. He walks and talks with her.” His jaw tensed. “That’s where she went the day our parents died.”
“Oh.” She’d never heard anything like that, but Nica was different from anyone else she’d known.
“Ready to face your uncle?”
Dread settled. “He’ll have heard.”
“No doubt.”
The crowd in the small front lot barraged them with questions, but she didn’t sense meanspiritedness. Maybe some of their previous attitude had been hers. If she looked for enemies, she’d find them. If she looked for friends …
“Gentry, will you and Cameron Pierce be seeing more of each other?”
“We both have busy schedules.” Separate lives. “Besides I’m leaving with my uncle in the morning.” She didn’t know Cameron’s plans. Thrown together under intense circumstances, bonds were inevitable, but whether they had staying power, she couldn’t say. Certainly not to the world.
A microphone swept up to Cameron’s mouth. “Did you ever think you’d spend this kind of time with Gentry Fox?”
He formed a sideways smile. “I planned it.”
Uh-oh.
“Of course, I didn’t know who she was.” He moved steadily forward. “My sister asked my help for a stranger with amnesia.”
“Are you planning more time?”
He pressed the remote on the truck, swept his gaze over the reporters, then landed on hers. “I’d be crazy not to.”
The press loved it. He must still be riding the high of not having crashed and burned.
“Are you more than friends? Do you want to be?”
His smile told nothing and everything.
“What’s been the best part?”
“The best part,” he paused, “was seeing Gentry wrestle a giant centipede and win.”
She shook her head as he exaggerated one of her shakier moments. What was he doing? He pulled open the truck door. She slipped inside.
“Are you in love with her?”
“Isn’t everyone?” The door closed.
Her mouth hung slack as he rounded the hood and got in.
“What was that?”
“What was what?”
“Your interview.”
He backed out of the lot and started down the highway. “Thought you’d appreciate having the pressure off you for once.”
“Yes, but …”
“I gave them what they wanted. Besides, there’s nothing like facts to limit speculation.”
“Facts?”
He slid her a glance. “What wasn’t true?”
She stammered, “That whole centipede thing.”
“I said it the way I saw it.” He smiled. “That’s what’s bugging you?”
She shook her head. “I’m not—You took me by surprise. If they think we’re together—We could have pla
yed the bodyguard card.”
“Uh-huh.” He slowed for a rusty pickup with surfboards in the bed.
She rested her head back and closed her eyes. “Was it this morning we went surfing?”
“A year or two ago. You pack a lot into your days.”
“Me?” She laughed. “You’re the one with the secret skills package.”
“You mean piloting a jet or carving a wave?”
“Both.” She rolled her head to look at him. He was still riding the high. “You’ve mastered air and water. What about earth?”
“I think you’re the terrain expert.”
“And fire?”
He bent his wrist over the steering wheel and stared straight ahead. “Oh, I still get burned.”
Rob wondered if rage would be what killed him. Living with Allegra he’d learned to bottle tight everything that approximated anger. Now that control was shattered. Pain triggered fury; fear triggered rage. It came up through him with such violence as Cameron and Gentry walked into the room that he wanted to strike. Gentry had lied to his face, not by what she’d said, but by what she hadn’t.
She leaned down and kissed his cheek. “I know what you’re thinking.”
“Not even close.” His voice scratched through his fury.
She lowered her face. “Uncle Rob, I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” he rasped. “Sorry?” His hands shook, hands that had taken hers and led her into places, into experiences she would never have known without him. “I jumped in that water.” He sucked air into his lungs, reliving the treacherous plunge, the pain, the cold, the terror. “I lost my leg trying to keep you from getting hurt.”
She blanched. Beside her Cameron tensed.
Rob didn’t stop. He couldn’t. “I thought you knew what you meant to me. That you’ve been the daughter I never had. That …” His arms trembled, his chest quaked with pent-up fury.
He fired his gaze at Cameron. “And you. You gambled with my niece—”
Gentry shook her head. “That’s not how it was.”
He burned holes through Cameron’s face. “What kind of man pretends to care for a woman he’s willing to lose?”
Freefall Page 30
